Chapter Twelve: No Longer Walking Alone

Short limbs, with triangular corners at the front that looked like ears, and a small short tail at the end. From a distance, you might not be able to tell it apart from a corgi dog.

“Awwooo!” As Toast approached and saw “Lin Yilin,” it suddenly let out a clear cry.

“Hey, you remember me? Dad’s come to find you,” Zheng Fan greeted using Lin Yilin’s body.

Toast seemed to lift its head slightly. Although it had no eyes, Zheng Fan felt as if it was observing him.

“A dog?” Lin Yilin asked calmly.

“Probably. Not sure if the Cat Gun likes it.” Zheng Fan waved the gun in his hand. The cat’s head let out a meow, its emotion unclear.

“Awwooo!” Toast’s body trembled as if it finally recognized Zheng Fan, letting out a joyful bark.

Although it had bitten Zheng Fan once when it was born and ran off, after struggling through the world, it seemed to have finally realized the warmth of family. It looked very happy.

Just as it was about to run over on its little legs, Zheng Fan opened his arms, ready to embrace it.

He thought to himself that he actually had the chance to stage such a touching scene.

He decided to forgive Toast for biting him.

After all, it was only a piece of toast.

Bang!

The gunshot suddenly rang out. Toast’s running stopped abruptly, a charred hole appeared on its back, and it instantly died.

Zheng Fan’s embrace froze in place. He then casually withdrew his hands and looked helplessly at Lao Sang, who staggered out from under the car.

“Come on, it’s already the victory ending animation — it even turned its back and ignored the explosion. Don’t you have any sense of drama? And it’s just a piece of toast! You’re shooting at toast?!”

Lao Sang didn’t have the energy to argue. His vision darkened; he had lost a lot of blood and slammed himself hard.

Fortunately, in his last desperate moment, he made the right choice—not to keep pawing at the toast but to fasten his seatbelt.

Combined with the invincible airbags, he barely survived.

Now he could finally avenge this damned piece of toast!

He kicked Toast forcefully, feeling immensely satisfied, then glared fiercely at Zheng Fan, gun aimed.

“We’re unlucky, and you’re one lucky bastard.”

“Who’s behind you? Who dares touch our goods? Who sent you? What’s your purpose? Doesn’t matter—I won’t survive to see rescue, but I’ll drag you down with me!”

“...” Zheng Fan and Lin Yilin fell silent together.

“Scared? Too afraid to talk?!” Lao Sang felt a burning heat in his body, his emotions surged, and he was highly agitated, while his judgment sharply declined.

“No one steals our goods!”

“...No, dude.” Zheng Fan raised a hand to interrupt. “I just want that piece of toast you just spectacularly kicked flying.”

Lao Sang: “...”

“Ahhhhh!”

After a brief silence, Lao Sang’s emotions suddenly collapsed—the breakdown of most underworld thugs happens in an instant.

---

He pulled the trigger, firing continuously at Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan was even faster, raising the Cat Gun, a child’s toy pistol that shot with a soft “meow.” Two bullets grazed past each other.

Zheng Fan caught the opponent’s bullet and crushed it. Lao Sang’s forehead burst open, his face contorted as he fell backward.

Until his body collapsed, Zheng Fan paid little attention to this “gangster extra.”

He hurried to the crushed piece of toast by the roadside and picked it up with pity.

“Wah…”

“It’s okay, I’ll remember you. Even though you bit me once, and I didn’t get a chance to bite back... or maybe I could’ve done it while it was still fresh, but you just got kicked, you’re covered in some unknown white powder and some weird ‘strawberry jam’—I really can’t bring myself to bite you now...” Zheng Fan used Lin Yilin’s body, wearing a tearful expression, though his words were hardly pleasant.

“Wah…”

“Hm? Any last words? Speak up, I’m listening.”

“Awwooo…”

Zheng Fan paused, then casually tossed Toast back onto the ground. “You should’ve said you just needed some flour to recover. What a waste of expression.”

“Awwooo…” Toast’s nonexistent expression suggested some silent disbelief.

...

After buying a bag of flour from the nearby supermarket and sprinkling it on Toast, it immediately returned to its original state. The bullet holes vanished, and the crushed part quickly refilled.

Still perfect as ever, a delight to behold.

Then they carried Toast away from the scene.

On the way back, Lin Yilin’s shadow asked, “So its actual function is just to keep regenerating itself as long as you sprinkle flour on it?”

“Hm? Doesn’t it bite too? Its violence index might even be higher than yours.” Zheng Fan lifted Toast like Simba.

Toast was surprisingly docile, only occasionally twitching its four little legs.

Lin Yilin: “...”

At most, it was at the level of a “chicken.” If anything, slightly stronger than her—a difference between an ordinary chicken and a fighting cock.

“Can we keep it?” Zheng Fan asked.

“But the commission…”

The client wanted the fantasy creature, and they had to fulfill the contract by handing over Toast.

“Awwooo~.” Toast made a sound.

“Since this fantasy creature was created under your influence, it naturally belongs to you once it’s in your hands. It’s just a trivial little commission. Let it go.” Lin Yilin quickly made a decision.

Zheng Fan was more agreeable than she expected.

Though bizarrely powerful, evident from subtle traces, he was indeed a dangerous illusion. When he controlled her body, he killed without hesitation; the previous factory was littered with corpses. Beneath the playful surface lay an unfathomably dark abyss.

Yet he still interacted and conversed with Lin Yilin like a normal person.

---

Though it was respect from an illusion and somewhat strange, Lin Yilin accepted this respect and therefore offered the illusion more honesty.

Was she someone who would stop at nothing for her goals?

Lin Yilin asked herself honestly. Under certain circumstances, definitely yes.

This time, she didn’t care about the illegal drug trade—it was unrelated to her commission. The agency only needed to handle its own business; everything else was beyond consideration.

They were no superheroes; they were no different from the underground gangs.

If not for the easygoing illusion, she might have continued dangerous attempts to attract black terror due to anxiety over her power.

She didn’t really care much about the people and things around her.

But at this moment, Lin Yilin watched as the illusion embraced a little toast dog using her body, the Cat Gun in her bag softly purring in sleep.

She slowly realized that since her adoptive father, she was no longer alone.

...

The next day, Lin Yilin pushed open the agency’s door.

She saw a piece of toast chasing and playing with a baguette inside.

“Isn’t Mr. Illusion practicing turning into birds and flying? Why did he turn into... a baguette?”

The running baguette suddenly stopped, then was knocked over by Toast, rolled over, and turned back into Zheng Fan, awkwardly collapsing on the ground.

“Well, I was afraid Toast would be lonely and wanted to find it a companion, but there was only one bead left, so to save it, I just used myself.”

“Alright.” A very convincing excuse.

Lin Yilin sat down at a desk deep inside, opened her computer, and immediately received an email.

From the Xixi Keke Street Police Station?

She opened and skimmed it quickly, then stared blankly.

“What’s wrong?” Zheng Fan noticed and came over holding Toast.

“We were commended for disrupting the gang’s illegal drug trade, exposing the Black Scorpion Gang and related illicit trade chains,” Lin Yilin answered.

Zheng Fan moved using her body; the image was naturally recorded by street cameras.

Usually, the authorities weren’t keen on praising the agency and often pretended not to notice such things. The police could even take all the credit themselves if convenient.

But Lin Yilin had someone at the station. Her Uncle Drake slipped in some help, and the commendation came through.

“Not bad. A quality little commission failed, but there was another gain. For your current agency, any bit of popularity or reputation is a good thing. The righteous Miss Lin Yilin, indeed.”

Zheng Fan smiled slightly and rubbed Toast on Lin Yilin’s face. Toast cooperated and snuggled up.

Just as Lin Yilin reached out to take Toast, he suddenly pulled back, danced around, and turned into a baguette to play with Toast again.

Lin Yilin watched helplessly but her smile lingered for a long time, not fading immediately.