Chapter 61 Do You Think I'll Do?

At night, beneath a rusted iron gate, a blurred, faceless figure was crouching in the corner, twitching intermittently.

From time to time, strange scraping sounds echoed through the air.

Do not misunderstand; this person was not here to relieve himself, nor to practice martial arts, but rather to saw through this utterly dilapidated iron gate.

He needed to escape.

Some dogs are simply born unable to be penned up; every single strand of his dog-like fur radiated the brilliance of freedom.

The iron bars, long neglected and caked in rust, were as helpless against the saw the young man had somehow acquired as a middle-end husband in an adult film who discovers his wife is having an affair with his boss and can only hide in a corner to weep.

Snap.

The corner of the iron gate was finally sawed through.

Then, just as the youth prepared to saw through another bar, a familiar voice echoed: "What~ are~ you~ doing~?" As the words faded, the iron gate slowly swung open.

It revealed a narrow gap wide enough for a person to pass through freely.

The gate wasn't even locked.

The youth: "..."

"As expected, my divination was correct. Today is a favorable day for prison breaks."

He looked at the opened gate, then down at the saw in his hand, waved dismissively, and decisively tossed the saw away. He grabbed a broom missing several tufts of bristles from the side and wedged it firmly between his thighs.

"Local gangs are truly lacking in basic manners."

The youth grumbled, "After finally managing to become a double agent and being dispatched thousands of miles away to this ghost town, I get arrested the moment I arrive."

"On what grounds? All I did was try to stuff myself into a washing machine at a laundromat. Why on earth did they lock me up in here?"

"Good thing I managed to find a Nimbus 2000. Now, I can finally take flight."

The young man squeezed the broom tightly with his thighs, then broke into a ludicrous, pigeon-toed run.

He looked as though he had suffered from cerebral thrombosis for twenty years.

His hands and feet gripped the broom tightly, refusing to let go.

"Woohoo~ Liftoff!"

The youth happily bolted with a gait that defied all familial ties, his eyes narrowed as he began to jog his memory regarding the reason he was here.

"Let me see, what was my mission again? Oh... right... surveillance. To monitor someone."

"That person's name is..."

Pale moonlight spilled through the sparse, dark clouds. Behind the youth, a building sign gleamed with an eerie light in the darkness.

[Beisui City Mental Health Center]

...

Mo Bai had successfully been discharged from the hospital.

The person who came to pick him up was Mo Mo. She walked beside Mo Bai, glancing at him with lingering worry—up and down, left and right—stopping just short of laying hands on him... well, actually, she had already laid hands on him.

Mo Mo reached out and touched Mo Bai's face. "Brother, are you really alright? Should we stay a few more days just to observe?"

Mo Bai half-closed his eyes. "I'm fine, truly."

"I've been eating five meals a day, everything tastes amazing, and the elderly gentleman in the neighboring room along with the nurse ladies all said I possess the poetic soul of the Wanquan Prefecture."

He had encountered a weary corporate slave youth in the hospital, whose record of five hearty meals a day was truly godlike and impossible to defeat despite all efforts.

The reason Mo Bai ate so much was simple: first, he was hungry; second, he had asked Mo Mo beforehand, and every legitimate hospital possessed a specialized department catering to boundary-crossers.

Because of various complicated reasons, the expenses for Mo Bai's hospital stay were fully covered by the hospital itself.

Coupled with the recollection of having his blood drawn and God knows what else extracted, Mo Bai strongly suspected that he had essentially been written off as a research expense...

Turning his sorrow and anger into motivation, Mo Bai began mercilessly shearing the hospital's wool, reigning supreme in the cafeteria. The veteran head chef practically cried out, "Young man, please stop eating, I'm terrified, and the stray dog at the hospital entrance has already missed several meals..."

The stray dog at the entrance: I might not be human, but you are genuinely a beast.

"That's good then." Mo Mo withdrew her hand from Mo Bai's face, her fingers sliding smoothly downward to naturally link arms with him. "By the way, Brother, has there been any change in your bloodline over the past few days?"

"Yes, Sister, there has."

Mo Bai replied with a proud expression. "I can now make wet paper dry just by glaring at it."

Mo Mo: "?"

She tilted her head with an innocent, naive look. "Brother, why would you want to make wet paper dry... Oh, I get it."

Mo Mo coughed lightly and turned her head away. "I won't press for details. As long as you're happy, Brother."

Mo Bai: "?"

"What on earth are you talking about, little sister???" Mo Bai was dumbfounded. "I literally just spilled milk on a piece of paper while drinking, and tested it out of sheer curiosity!"

"Don't let your imagination wander off into weird places!"

Mo Mo nodded earnestly. "Mm-hmm, I understand."

"I believe in my brother."

"No matter what my brother does, I am still your sister."

Mo Bai: "..."

Forget it, there was no point arguing with his little sister; the more they talked, the more chaotic it would get. Better to just let this matter pass naturally...

Darn it, when did his pure, well-behaved, soft, and adorable little sister turn into this type of person (sorrow).

In a few years, would she be chasing after him and shouting: "Old timer, time to drop some loot!"?

And then she'd confiscate his underwear from the washing machine, look at him with utter disgust, and say: "Next time, don't wash your clothes together with mine; they smell like corporate exploitation."

Mo Bai: "Hiss..."

Gosh! May such a thing never, ever happen!

He silently hugged Mo Mo tighter.

The siblings walked out of the hospital, and Mo Mo glanced at her phone. "Brother, I have business back at the bureau shortly. Are you heading straight home?"

"No, I actually have business there too. I need to find someone."

"Find someone?" Mo Mo instantly became alert. "Who are you looking for?"

Mo Bai thought for a moment and uttered a name that hadn't been mentioned for quite some time:

"Ye Zhi."

...

"Ye Zhi, you big jerk!"

In the laboratory, Shen Qiqi lay flat on the floor, wailing and throwing a tantrum. "You won't let me do this, and you won't let me do that! I want it anyway!"

Mo Bai, standing at the doorway of the lab: "?"

Was his timing off?

After waiting a few more seconds, Mo Bai slowly pushed the door open. Upon entering, he saw Ye Zhi squatting beside Shen Qiqi with a distressed expression, while Shen Qiqi writhed back and forth on the ground like a salted fish.

"What on earth are you two doing? Performance art?"

Mo Bai casually picked up a bag of potato chips from the table and started munching. "Or are you trying to peek at Shen Qiqi's underwear, and when she resisted to the death, you harbored malicious intentions and tried to..."

"What kind of nonsense are you babbling about?" Ye Zhi stood up, looking utterly helpless. "How could I possibly threaten a magical girl? That's what villains do."

Ye Zhi sighed. "It's just that she suddenly felt she was too weak and lacked power, so she's been pestering me to make her stronger."

Since the prototype of the magical wand was manufactured by Ye Zhi, it was entirely logical for Shen Qiqi to ask him for a power boost.

Mo Bai helped the tearful Shen Qiqi up. "And how did you answer her?"

"Aside from taking shady drugs that ruin one's future, how on earth can a bloodline suddenly grow stronger just like that?"

Ye Zhi shrugged. "The only close alternative is installing a formal Armament. It's safe, effective, and yields direct results. Everyone who has tried it praises it."

Mo Bai tilted his head. "Then just install one for her. Why is she still crying on the floor?"

He couldn't help but complain: "Seriously, apart from that old lady who tried to stage a fake traffic accident on Cross Street a few years ago, you're the first person I've ever seen crying on the ground."

"It makes me want to whip out my phone and take a picture as a souvenir."

Shen Qiqi, still sobbing, instantly bristled. "You are not allowed to take pictures!"

Before Shen Qiqi's short little arms could flail menacingly for more than a few seconds, Mo Bai deftly pressed her down, patted her head in praise, and effectively neutralized her combat capability.

Seeing that Shen Qiqi had been subdued by Mo Bai, Ye Zhi offered an explanation: "When it comes to Armaments, the trickiest part is actually the compatibility rate."

"Shen Qiqi hasn't been here long, so it's hard to craft something tailored specifically for her using available materials. Slapping a random one on her would not only waste resources, but replacing it later would also be a hassle."

"Besides," Ye Zhi looked at Mo Bai, "the bureau's current priority is to craft a suitable Armament for your sister. If you want Shen Qiqi to cut the line..."

"Then never mind." Mo Bai replied in a split second, looking at Shen Qiqi with pity. "Be a good girl now. Installing an Armament is bad for your health, we don't want it anymore."

"Just keep playing with your magical wand."

Shen Qiqi: "???"

"Brother Mo Bai, you're biased!"

Shen Qiqi resorted to acting cute. "Look, I call you brother too! I'm your sister as well!"

"You've got to treat us equally, Onii-chan!"

Mo Bai: "..."

A wicked, charming smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You said it yourself, no backing out now, hear?"

Shen Qiqi: "Eh?"

"Backing out... means what?"

Mo Bai covered Shen Qiqi's mouth to silence her, then turned to look at Ye Zhi. "Say, I heard from Mo Mo that you're an alchemist who crafts Armaments, right?"

Ye Zhi nodded. "That's right, is there a problem?"

Mo Bai chuckled slyly. "Then, let me ask you..."

"Am I suitable material to be crafted into an Armament?"