“What’s happening?” Lance supported the barrier, looking inside with concern.
Zhan Pingchuan’s expression was particularly grave as he looked up. The mere distance of a few floors had now become an insurmountable chasm: “His soul has been damaged. He must return to his body immediately, otherwise…”
Lance looked up at him: “Otherwise what?”
Zhan Pingchuan gritted his teeth, his voice carrying undisguised anxiety: “Otherwise his fourth-tier ability will be passively triggered, and then things will get troublesome.”
Lance: “Fourth-tier ability?”
Zhan Pingchuan: “My uncle’s fourth-tier ability is called [Gate of Rebirth]. You can understand it as another self inside his body—this self is his complete dark side, a completely opposite version of him. When this self controls the body, his combat power increases tenfold—even my father wouldn’t be a match. But summoning the dark side comes with a price. If my uncle’s will isn’t strong enough, he might be swallowed by darkness, and the person we know would disappear.”
“So my uncle rarely uses this ability, and the dark side always sleeps within his body. But if his soul faces major threats outside and the body senses danger, the dark side will awaken, occupy the body, and eliminate the threat.”
Adrian’s body bleeding meant his soul was already damaged outside. When the body judged the soul at risk of dissipating, it would awaken the dark side for self-preservation.
Actually, everyone has both bright and dark sides that usually alternate within a person. But because of his special family environment, Adrian had learned from childhood to suppress his needs and meet others’ expectations, striving to be a perfect elite. So his dark side never had a chance to appear and be released.
These emotions gradually accumulated together, completely separating from his elite side and falling into slumber, now having the possibility of awakening due to his ability.
Lance frowned: “He won’t dare leave Lucas. We must go up immediately.”
Adrian had been struggling on the second level for half an hour. His ability to persist this long was entirely due to his never-neglected combat skills.
He fought in close quarters, seized guns, changed cover, and maneuvered with the guards, actually managing to protect Lucas.
Lucas was also smart enough not to burden Adrian. He crouched in the back, pinching his nose while using dirty, stinking corpses as shields to prevent stray bullets from hitting him.
Seeing fewer worries behind him, Adrian could move more freely.
“Damn, bullets aren’t working—blow them up!”
Several guards stood at a distance, pulling pins and throwing grenades toward Mad Clown’s cell.
Adrian’s pupils contracted. Against his body’s instincts, he rushed toward the grenades. He gripped the bars with one arm, thrust his waist and abdomen, leaped up, and kicked at the grenades rolling in midair.
Fortunately, the white coat’s body was light, so his movements were still agile. He kicked back three grenades, but one slipped through, flying toward Mad Clown.
“Lucas!” Adrian’s heart went cold, his mind blank for an instant.
He didn’t think of dodging but gripped the thick, hard bars tightly, even knowing that at such close distance, if the grenade exploded, he’d be blown to pieces too.
But Mad Clown hadn’t been idle in Black Lantern Society these years. He wasn’t panicked by the grenade but sneered coldly.
His eyes turned vicious as he grabbed the grenade and threw it through the small hole connecting to the adjacent cell without a second’s hesitation.
The talkative prisoner who’d reported them was grinning as he watched the show when suddenly an iron ball hit his leg. Confused, he looked closely and was scared out of his wits!
“No—” The explosion swallowed his voice. A strong heat wave poured through the hole. Lucas immediately covered his head, then the stone wall collapsed with a crash, leaving only charred flesh and blood on the ground.
Simultaneously, the grenades Adrian had kicked away exploded in midair. The blast knocked several guards to the ground, and Adrian’s ears rang with a sweet taste in his throat.
But this completely reversed the situation.
Thanks to that genius who suggested throwing grenades, over ten guards were now blown over and lost combat ability, while Mad Clown’s adjacent cell was completely blown open, even the bars shattered beyond recognition.
Mad Clown’s eyes lit up. He immediately endured the burnt smell, climbed over the stone wall, and squeezed out through the adjacent cell’s bars.
He grabbed Adrian’s sleeve: “Are you stupid? Why aren’t we leaving!”
Seeing him unharmed, Adrian finally relaxed. The two fled frantically through the second level.
Without cell door constraints, they moved much more freely. Though neither could use abilities now, at least Mad Clown had fighting capability.
Lucas chattered while running, saying viciously to Adrian: “You should go back. I can run by myself. I don’t want to see you at all!”
Though he said this, his hand gripping Adrian’s sleeve didn’t loosen at all.
Adrian sighed lightly: “I’m worried about you.”
Lucas glanced at him sideways, then speculated darkly: “Ha, I know—you’re afraid of being punished by your guild leader for failing the mission.”
It was just a joint operation—who knew what kind of joint operation High Tower and Ghost Eye were conducting!
Turning a corner, Adrian pulled Lucas over. The pursuers hadn’t caught up yet, so they could finally catch their breath.
Adrian gripped Lucas’s shoulders, making him face him directly: “Is that what you think of me?”
Lucas’s eyes darted away as he struggled against Adrian’s grip, saying fiercely: “What! Isn’t that what you said? We haven’t seen each other for eight years—shouldn’t I be suspicious? Didn’t you just leave back then too!”
“I wanted to save you myself.” Adrian didn’t release Lucas’s shoulders.
His gaze was deep, expression serious. “Don’t say that again.”
Lucas was actually quite sensitive and perceptive. He could feel Adrian was angry—the kind of anger from being misunderstood and helplessness at his deliberate provocation.
Just like when he’d confessed to girls on Adrian’s behalf years ago.
Lucas hadn’t expected that after all these years, he’d still feel pleased by Adrian’s emotional outbursts, especially when he was the cause.
He really was a naturally bad seed. Adrian, such a stuffy, annoying guy, was destined to be bullied by him.
Lucas got the answer he wanted, but his face would never show it—he’d never had the ability to naturally express genuine emotions.
Because in childhood, every time he sincerely expressed his needs, Howard would mock, insult, and despise him. Over time, he’d deliberately ignore what he wanted and disdain what he liked.
Only in front of Duma did Lucas have to speak directly, because that little mechanical brain couldn’t understand anything said indirectly.
“Your face is really ugly,” Lucas stopped struggling but remained sharp-tongued.
What a round face, full beard, short neck—wrapped in that white coat, he looked like a steamed bun. Even talking to him felt unlucky.
“Do you think I looked better before?” Adrian wasn’t deliberately teasing Lucas—he was asking seriously. His thinking was always linear; in his understanding, others must share his love of exploring fundamentals and pursuing facts.
Lucas jumped at this, his neck flushing red with urgency: “I never said that!”
Adrian nodded: “Alright, we need to keep running. They’re all on the lower levels.”
Actually, appearance had never been something he cared about. With Lucas’s looks, finding him unattractive was understandable.
Having reached this conclusion, he felt the topic didn’t need to continue. The urgent matter was reuniting with the main force—they weren’t out of danger yet.
Just as they were about to leave the corner to find stairs, the ground beneath their feet suddenly shifted, and the stone wall nearby became a bright passage.
Before Adrian could react, the passage changed again. The three-dimensional planes around them rotated chaotically like a Rubik’s cube, making them dizzy.
Lucas cursed angrily: “What the hell is this thing!”
He didn’t know about the old madman’s existence—this was his first time seeing space that could change at will.
“Be careful, this is a spatial ability. Someone’s controlling the entire prison from the shadows,” Adrian quickly explained.
As soon as he finished speaking, a rough, hoarse laugh came from behind: “You know quite a bit.”
Asmodeus emerged from what clearly looked like a wall, his steps lazy, single eye slightly narrowed, lips curled in pleasure, a bronze knuckle duster on his right hand fingers.
This knuckle duster was more vicious than ordinary weapons—iron rings around four fingers with his palm naturally clenched into a fist. The striking outer side had four sharp steel spikes embedded, plus a thin joint blade at the pinky position.
Being hit by such a fist would cause immediate bone fractures and death within a few strikes.
Adrian reacted extremely quickly. The moment the voice sounded, he pushed Lucas away and fired, the bullet precisely aimed at Asmodeus’s forehead.
Bang!
The rare lead ore bullet passed through Asmodeus’s body, embedding hard into the stone wall.
Asmodeus was unharmed—his previously solid body became like ethereal dust, gradually fading until it disappeared.
The voice soon appeared behind Adrian and Mad Clown again. Asmodeus rotated his wrist leisurely: “I’ve been watching for a while. Doctor Bai, you haven’t used your ability at all—don’t know how, or can’t use it?”
His light brown left eyeball held a cold, cruel insight into everything, the bronze knuckle duster gleaming with deathly cold light.
Adrian didn’t speak. His gaze was cold as he fired another shot.
Again a perfect hit, but Asmodeus’s body disappeared once more, this time appearing to their right.
“I don’t really like guns—too boring, too gentle. I prefer beating people to death punch by punch, watching blood splash on my face, hearing bones break one by one, truly feeling life drain away.” Asmodeus explained methodically, his boots echoing through the corridor as he walked toward Adrian and Mad Clown step by step.
“I’ll send you off this way in a moment. How’s that?” His chest resonated with hoarse laughter from his throat.
Adrian could see that Asmodeus could create duplicates, making it impossible to distinguish his real location.
Just then, Lucas suddenly grabbed Adrian’s gun, turned around, and cleanly pulled the trigger—bang bang bang, three bullets toward the left cell door.
“Dream on, one-eye! You’re not sending anyone anywhere!”
Asmodeus’s expression changed as he quickly dodged, bullets grazing past him.
With only one eye, his vision was limited, making his evasion somewhat clumsy.
“Oh, I forgot—you’re wearing rare lead ore, so you can see my real body.” Asmodeus ground his molars, tightening the knuckle duster. “Too bad bullets run out eventually. You’re just an ordinary person now.”
Ordinary people couldn’t compete with S-level physique and reflexes—killing them was just a matter of time.
“Enough bullets to kill you before then,” Mad Clown curled his lips, sneering as he shot at Asmodeus.
Bullets hit everywhere, sparking. Asmodeus dodged and weaved, finally tearing open cell doors and grabbing prisoners as human shields.
Adrian counted the bullets, knowing the magazine was nearly empty.
He suddenly yanked Mad Clown hard, his grip leaving five red finger marks on Lucas’s arm.
“Stop shooting! You can see him—run!”
Lucas was stunned: “What are you—”
“You can distinguish visual errors. This prison is Colosseum-type—run toward the center, listen for fighting sounds. They’re there.” Adrian spoke rapidly, then pushed Lucas away.
“What about you?” Lucas staggered from the push, brow furrowed.
“Don’t waste time. Once you’re safe, I’ll immediately return to my body.” Adrian’s tone was calm, not at all like someone making a desperate gamble.
Lucas was half-convinced but didn’t dawdle. He darted into a small path, running hard away from Asmodeus.
His heart and lungs ached from exertion beyond his physical limits, but he didn’t dare slow down. The faster he escaped danger, the sooner Adrian could return to his body.
Once back in his body, Adrian would be completely safe!
“Ugh!” Adrian had just taken Lucas’s gun to reload when sharp pain shot from his cervical spine.
The knuckle duster struck his spine from behind, spikes piercing deep into flesh and reaching bone. Adrian’s vision went black, veins bulging as his knees crashed to the ground.
Asmodeus withdrew the knuckle duster, bringing up sprays of blood.
“Holding back your screams so he won’t come back, right?” Asmodeus mocked.
Adrian bit down hard, turning toward the sound and kicking backward.
The kick hit Asmodeus’s kneecap squarely, but how could an S-level be hurt by an ordinary person? Asmodeus swung his right hand, smashing viciously toward Adrian’s left ear!
The sound of jawbone fracturing rang in his ears. Adrian’s blood sprayed from nose and mouth as he was sent flying, rolling several meters on the ground.
His left face was completely numb, his left eye filled with bloody red. His soul felt torn by invisible giant hands, trying to pull him from Doctor Bai’s body back to his own.
But no—not yet, not enough. Lucas hadn’t run far enough.
He knew that with Asmodeus’s brutal, cruel nature, he wouldn’t lose interest and chase Lucas until he watched Adrian completely die.
Adrian struggled to crawl up from the ground, supporting himself on knees and elbows, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
The next strike hit his ribs, spikes piercing his chest and easily shattering five ribs.
Adrian flew out again, his white coat soaked with blood. He tried twice to prop himself up, both attempts failing.
“Still not screaming? How much longer can you hold out?” Asmodeus looked down at him, opening his mouth to lick the warm blood from his knuckle duster.
Adrian deeply felt the pain of approaching death, his soul screaming hysterically as some dark power stirred restlessly.
If this continued, his will wouldn’t be able to suppress his dark side much longer.
“Before you die, I’ll reluctantly tell you—though Mad Clown isn’t affected by visual distortions, no matter where he runs, spatial movement will send him right to me. Everything you’ve done is completely meaningless.”
With these words, this strike hit Adrian’s still-supporting kneecap.
Crack!
His knee shattered completely. Adrian finally let out a muffled cry of pain, his right leg twisting grotesquely.
“Die.” Asmodeus delivered the final punch.
Blood splashed high as Adrian’s entire back lost all sensation. His vision went black, his ears heard nothing, and his soul slowly withdrew from this dying body.
In the void, he seemed to see that dark self slowly opening its eyes—smiling, excited, tearing apart reason and virtue.
—
**
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152