Chapter Thirteen: After the Thirtieth

At the end of May, Zheng Fan met Lin Yilin, and shortly after their acquaintance, the month was about to come to a complete close.

The day Zheng Fan had silently been anticipating had finally arrived.

May 30th.

“Do you want to go to the violent world?” Lin Yilin, who was engrossed in writing her notes, looked up at Zheng Fan upon hearing his plan.

Zheng Fan lay on the sofa, lazily toying with the energetic Toast, and replied, “This morning, while wandering around, I overheard some people discussing it. The police and the enforcement bureau’s uniformed personnel have been more active lately; it must be preparation for this.”

“Though there aren’t nonexistent dates every month, it’s natural to prepare in advance,” Lin Yilin nodded gently. “The Xixi Keke district, being a large area, will be the first to experience it and needs to be especially vigilant.”

“I just arrived and want to take a look. Maybe I’ll discover something. Are you coming?”

“No,” Lin Yilin refused decisively.

“Eh~ If the violent world overlaps, there should be many incidents to boost performance,” Zheng Fan said, somewhat surprised. After all, Lin Yilin had boldly confronted the ‘Chicken’-level violence alone to find him, a manifestation of black illusion.

He had thought she was the type who enjoyed venturing into chaotic places.

“An incident is an incident, and a commission is a commission. Without a client, such incidents are none of my concern and only create trouble,” Lin Yilin’s cool voice spoke somewhat coldly.

But she was not wrong.

“So I’ll go alone? Then I’ll just have to watch from the sidelines again,” Zheng Fan said with some regret.

Lin Yilin blinked.

The real reason Zheng Fan wanted Lin Yilin to come was simply to have her physically involved at the right moment.

“Woof!” Toast was eager, but it was just a ‘chicken.’ Without Lin Yilin’s body, if Toast met harm, Zheng Fan couldn’t save it, so it couldn’t come along.

It was just a piece of toast.

Rejected by Zheng Fan, Toast was instantly dejected, its little wagging tail drooping.

Zheng Fan didn’t mind; Toast’s carefree nature meant it would bounce back quickly.

“Didn’t you say you could level up over there? If you want to improve your combat power, maybe it’s a way?” Zheng Fan was still not giving up.

Lin Yilin took a sip from her cartoon earthworm teacup. “The violence index in the red world isn’t easy to raise. Increasing it through violent acts is convenient, but the blood-red factor gradually changes people.”

“Impulsive, irritable, paranoid, addicted to violence, accustomed to solving everything through violence, becoming maniacs, lunatics, psychopaths, butchers. Once the gray-white is completely dyed red, it remains there forever.”

“Will I become like that?” Zheng Fan asked.

“Mr. Illusion is already black to the core, it doesn’t matter. Black is the deepest color, it won’t be tainted by others,” Lin Yilin tilted her head in response.

It sounded as if she was implying Zheng Fan was already beyond help.

Afterward, Zheng Fan inquired about the specifics of the world overlap.

Lin Yilin generously shared the information: “When the overlap occurs, ordinary people might not feel anything obvious, but some more sensitive individuals may notice signs. Then, certain qualified people are drawn in and absorbed. Additionally, residents of the red world appear; they might be native inhabitants or those I mentioned before who have stayed in the red world.”

“Can these residents leave that world?”

“Yes. Even easier than illusions lingering in reality. After each violent world overlap, public security worsens for a while. Mostly because violence causes ordinary people to become impulsive and irritable, and partly because some violent world residents escape here…”

“So it turns the city into Gotham,” Zheng Fan guessed.

“What’s Gotham?” Lin Yilin asked curiously.

“A famous large city in my world, with high crime rates and a rich heritage, roughly like that,” Zheng Fan explained, though it was a fictional place. Well, actually, the real one wasn’t that different, just missing a few supervillains.

“Is it Mr. Illusion’s world?” Lin Yilin was quite intrigued.

Zheng Fan did not hide the fact he was a ‘transcender,’ because from this city’s perspective, he really was someone who came from ‘another world.’

When he revealed this, Lin Yilin showed not the slightest change in expression.

According to her, the depth of the black world far exceeded what ordinary people imagined, or rather, the depth of human thought and imagination matched the depth of the black world.

The black world was just a general term; it contained countless worlds. The more a manifestation grows, the clearer its origin becomes.

In this mature, powerful manifestation, their world also becomes more complete.

Lin Yilin believed it was entirely normal that Zheng Fan’s memory contained a complete other world, where he had lived a whole life.

What was strange was that Zheng Fan’s world was relatively normal and ordinary compared to most powerful manifestations, which was quite different.

This conversation almost made Zheng Fan doubt himself.

He couldn’t be sure whether his pre-transcendence world was part of that black world or not.

But Zheng Fan only dwelled on this briefly before letting it go.

Because thinking about such things was troublesome and he was too lazy to ponder further.

As dusk fell, Lin Yilin packed up and left the agency. Before leaving, she glanced back at the graffiti-covered signboard.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get too messy this time.”

With that, she turned and departed.

…

Zheng Fan stayed inside the agency with Toast until nightfall. Time passed; the clock’s hands on the wall slowly approached twelve, and the digital clock on the desk ticked accordingly.

He sat on the sofa, silently watching the clock’s movement, listening to the clamor passing by outside.

Siren wails flashed intermittently, and police lights shone in through the window repeatedly, then quickly receded.

Tick… tick…

Finally.

The hour and minute hands both pointed at twelve.

Silent, yet Zheng Fan’s eyes widened.

Outside, a crimson red light as vivid as blood suddenly illuminated, casting a thick red filter over his vision.

The true red world.

The clock’s hands continued to move, but the digital clock on the desk did not change the date. After May 30th, it was still May 30th.

The blood-red thirtieth.

He picked up the already sleeping Toast from the floor and placed it on the sofa, covering it with a blanket.

When still, Toast tucks in its short legs, ears, and tail, transforming back into the perfect shape of a piece of toast, making it hard to tell the difference.

Zheng Fan’s act of covering Toast with a blanket looked somewhat comical.

After finishing, he turned and walked outside, his body passing through the door.

Bang!

Not far from the exit, a loud crash echoed at an intersection.

It was a collision between a police car and a gray van.

People immediately jumped out from both vehicles; the police raised their guns, confronting the street thugs ahead.

At first, the thugs, armed with knives and bats, hesitated upon seeing the guns, but suddenly one thug in the crowd drew a gun and fired directly at the nearby police.

The scene instantly erupted into chaos.