Chapter Nineteen: Revenge

After watching Liang Jing head upstairs to the second-floor room, everyone in the hall let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Phew... That was terrifying," a girl said, patting her trembling chest repeatedly.

"Yeah, I could hardly breathe. It was so frightening..."

"Exactly! When Liang Jing got angry, the whole house felt suffocating, as if the air itself had solidified," the pockmarked young man exclaimed.

"Damn, is this what they call an aura? I felt like someone had their hands around my throat—I could barely breathe. If he wanted to kill us, we'd have to stretch out our necks for him to chop."

Everyone in the hall couldn't help but share their feelings, occasionally glancing at the middle-aged security guard collapsed on the floor, their eyes flickering with contempt, disgust, and other negative emotions.

"Let's all quiet down for a moment. What exactly happened just now? Why did Liang Jing get so angry?" Yang Yuyuan asked, returning to his senses.

Just a glance from Liang Jing had left him shaken—even though the murderous intent wasn't directed specifically at him, he still felt its effect. Only now did he truly recover, his heart still pounding with fear.

Liang Jing had once been a butcher, slaughtering countless animals over the years. When that aura was awakened in him, it was no ordinary presence—few could withstand it. Today, he'd spent the entire day in bloodshed and finally killed Baroque, who had evolved into a golden-tier boss. There hadn't been a chance for him to calm down, and so disaster fell upon everyone.

After listening to the chaotic accounts from all sides, Yang Yuyuan pieced together what had happened. He glanced at the security guards—Old Li, the middle-aged captain, was still sprawled on the ground, oblivious and unresponsive. The other three guards were as pale as drenched doves, trembling with fear. He couldn't help feeling speechless—they'd been so brazen just moments ago.

Still, he had to warn them. If this happened again, he doubted he could stop Liang Jing. The image of Liang Jing's earlier gaze flashed through his mind, sending a chill down his spine.

"You'd better not provoke Liang Jing again. If something like this happens once more, no one will be able to stop him—especially if you insult him. Liu Nengtian and the others were killed for that reason. Think hard about it. In fact, as long as you speak to him properly, Liang Jing is easy to get along with. At the very least, he never stirs up trouble," Yang Yuyuan said. He knew this well—Liang Jing didn't seek trouble, but he could not be trifled with.

"As long as you don't provoke Liang Jing again, I promise he won't cause you any more trouble."

"Alright!"

"Definitely, definitely..."

"..."

The middle-aged security captain remained sprawled on the floor, eyes blank as before. The other three guards hurriedly promised that they'd never dare cross Liang Jing again. They were truly terrified—even now, they half expected Liang Jing to storm downstairs and target them. They eagerly patted their chests as they made their promises, not caring about dignity or pride. At a time like this, survival mattered more than saving face.

...

In the dark, sealed-off room on the second floor, the door was shut and locked. Liang Jing lay half-reclined on the bed, pillow propped against the wall.

Outside, night had fully fallen. The moon was nowhere to be seen; only a few stars, closer to Earth now, cast a faint glow, serving in place of the absent moon. Through the cracks in the window, the fleeting shadows of creatures flying by could be glimpsed against the night sky. Various cries and howls of wild beasts echoed—loud, distant, and haunting—reverberating through the barren, desolate night. In the distance, a few houses flickered with pale yellow firelight, as if humanity had returned to the primeval age, struggling to survive against nature.

All the neon lights, the bustling crowds, the vibrant city life seemed so far away—perhaps irretrievably lost. Beneath the black veil of night, with the wind howling and monsters shrieking, this was a paradise for predators, suffused with a wild, primordial atmosphere.

A cold draft seeped in through the cracks; compared to the day, the temperature had plummeted below zero. Out of habit, Liang Jing pulled the blanket over himself, but still felt little warmth.

If Yang Yuyuan hadn't stopped him earlier, he would have killed the middle-aged security guard—and perhaps finished off the remaining guards as well. Now, Liang Jing felt ill at ease. That familiar sense of discomfort from before the world changed was returning; he knew he was growing ever more out of place here. Even though the guards' voices in the hall had been low, his heightened senses made it impossible to miss any word—his physical abilities now equaled those of nine ordinary men combined.

From their conversations, it was clear they knew Hong Bin and Jing Hui, perhaps were even part of the same group. Liang Jing recalled Yang Yuyuan mentioning that the guards had come looking for him shortly after he left the security office. Judging by the timing, Guo Qingyu must have already gone to inform Hong Bin and Jing Hui—perhaps they had been sent by Hong Bin from the start.

Liang Jing didn't realize how close his suspicions were to the truth.

Not killing the guards left him deeply unsettled. Ever since Hong Bin and Jing Hui's sneak attack not long ago, he had become resolute—if only he had killed Guo Qingyu then, Hong Bin's revenge might have been delayed or even averted entirely, since they wouldn't have known who was responsible.

Even so, if given another chance, Liang Jing probably still couldn't bring himself to kill Guo Qingyu. But as for those security guards, it was a different story. Liang Jing didn't believe the cowardly guards could pose any real threat, especially now that Hong Bin was likely dead, but it all left a thorn in his heart—a bitter, uncomfortable feeling. He hated it, but social obligations forced him to act against his nature, leaving him restless and frustrated.

He shook his head, thinking of Yang Yuyuan and the others. It was clear he didn't belong with them. If this continued, conflict was inevitable, and he would never find comfort among them. Nor did he want to endure their alienation or force his company upon them.

He made up his mind: he would leave tomorrow. With his current strength, he might even be safer alone in the wild—at the very least, he would be freer, able to act as he wished without hesitation or concern for others. He had no desire to return to the indecisive existence of the past twenty years.

...

In another room of the same building, four men sat facing each other. One was a middle-aged man in a gray suit. The others—a tall, skinny man, a short, dark-skinned but stout man, and a relatively young man—all wore security uniforms. They were the four-man security team.

The middle-aged captain had recovered, having showered in cold water in the bathroom and changed into the homeowner's clothes. His hair was wet and disheveled, his face pale with blue-purple lips. Perhaps the lack of electricity and the icy water had left him shivering, but his expression was intensely dark and oppressive, his eyes flickering with a tumult of emotions—grief, laughter, rage, deep resentment, and something even more deranged.

"I want revenge on Liang Jing. I want to kill him. Will you help me?" The middle-aged security guard's voice was hoarse and flat, devoid of emotion.