Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Crimson Qilin

Wu Ming and Ling Mei were reviewing the files of various superpowered individuals, laughing so hard they nearly toppled over. Some had their hips growing up to their chests, others could regrow severed arms like a lizard, some were immune to all poisons, and the most outrageous of all could suck mosquitoes with their mouths. The spectacle made them both amused and nauseated.

“Master, look at this one—it’s quite interesting,” Ling Mei said, handing a file to Wu Ming with a serious expression.

“Scarlet Qilin?” Wu Ming gazed at the page for a long time. A phrase popped into his mind: “Blood Demon Seal.” “Yes, that’s it—the Blood Demon Seal. I’ve seen it somewhere before, but I just can’t recall where.” Wu Ming scratched his head, straining to remember.

Ling Mei teased him, “Hahaha, my dear master, is your mind muddled again? Just look at more beautiful women and you’ll be fine.”

But Wu Ming really couldn’t remember. It was as if his memory was blocked by something, stubbornly hidden from him. “Forget it. If I can’t recall, so be it. But this Scarlet Qilin must be watched closely! Let’s list him as a candidate for now.” Ling Mei listened to Wu Ming and curiously opened the Scarlet Qilin’s file, reading it with great interest.

Rosen, an Eastern Asian, was a doctoral student at Columbia University specializing in genetic engineering, particularly in extinct species’ genes. Half a year ago, he jumped from a building at Columbia and committed suicide, severing his own fingers and slicing off his nose in the process—a gruesome sight.

On that day, his classmate Yuna was questioned by the university’s investigation team.

“Ten days before his suicide, he went to Canada to study ancient organisms. I accompanied him. He showed no unusual behavior; you all know he was passionate about ancient creatures, especially bacterial genes from extinct species,” Yuna recounted truthfully.

“So you’re saying he was infected by bacteria?” asked a tall Caucasian man, who was obviously not from the university. Later, it was learned he was from the FBI.

“I don’t know for certain. That day—yes, the night of the full moon—he left the lab alone and behaved strangely, muttering to himself. I thought he was just exhausted, so didn’t pay much attention,” Yuna explained.

“Are you saying he discovered something?” the man pressed. Although Yuna was American, she struggled under the interrogation.

“I never said he discovered anything, only that he acted odd. I don’t know what he found! Please don’t jump to conclusions,” Yuna replied, now visibly angry.

“Alright, continue,” the man said, slowing his tone.

“That day, his finger seemed injured and bled profusely. He asked me what happens when a person dies, and if death and rebirth are the same thing. I didn’t understand what he meant.” Yuna had just finished when the man slammed the table, exclaiming, “He made a major discovery!”

“I don’t know. After returning to the US, he committed suicide. That’s all I know,” Yuna concluded, waiting for the man’s response.

“Nothing else?”

“Truly nothing. I swear to God!” Yuna pledged solemnly, hand pressed to her chest.

“Alright. Are the samples he handled still around?” he asked.

“According to confidentiality protocols, all his materials were handed over to the university committee. We were classmates, but my field is aesthetics—I just accompanied him,” Yuna replied slowly.

The man consulted the committee members, then nodded to the other two in the room. “You may go,” he said.

Yuna returned home, still deeply anxious. She’d had a sexual relationship with Rosen, and if he was infected, she might be as well. The more she thought about it, the more frightened she became. As she pondered, a voice—a familiar voice—echoed in her mind.

“Thank you, darling, for not giving me away,” a sinister voice sounded in Yuna’s mind.

“Who are you? How are you in my head?” Yuna asked anxiously.

“I’m Rosen. Don’t be afraid. I didn’t die. Death is merely a trick to fool the world,” the voice spoke again.

“Please, darling, come out of my mind. I’m scared,” Yuna pleaded, speaking to herself. Anyone who saw her now would think she had gone mad.

“I’ve always been outside. Turn around—look in the mirror. I’m right here!” On hearing this, Yuna spun around. Rosen! It was truly Rosen! He was inside the mirror, stroking her hair as he always had, whispering secretly in her ear. But this terrified Yuna nearly to death.

“Don’t be afraid. Suicide only cost me my flesh, but my soul was freed. Now, I can go anywhere I wish,” Rosen spoke as if possessed.

“What’s going on? Why did you kill yourself?” Yuna asked, puzzled.

“Suicide? No, no, I am the Reaper. Look at my eyes, at my chest. Tell me, what do you see in each eye?” In the mirror, Rosen pulled open his shirt. On his chest was a round, crimson seal—a symbol Wu Ming would recognize as the Death Seal. His left eye burned with the fires of hell, filled with tortured, agonized faces of the dead, writhing in pain, resentment, hatred, and fear—a chilling sight that gripped the soul. His right eye radiated serenity, warmth like paradise—pure bliss.

“My God! Oh, dear!” Yuna exclaimed, switching instinctively to English.

“Don’t be afraid, darling. Remember the full moon that night? I saw a blood-red moon, then three spheres of light—one red, one black, one gold. They entered my chest, left eye, right eye, and suddenly I understood life and death, comprehended the limitations of flesh. Now, see—I can go anywhere I please.” Rosen bragged to Yuna. “Oh, right, that man from today—I’ve brought his head to show you! Here’s a secret: every time I kill someone, it feels as though I gain another life. That sensation is wonderful, though I don’t enjoy killing.” Rosen held up a severed head in the mirror, completely unblemished. Yuna turned pale with fright. The next day, that man jumped to his death from the FBI headquarters.

“Darling, why did you commit suicide? Now you’re trapped in the mirror,” Yuna mourned. She loved Rosen, but now, separated by life and death, she could only touch the mirror’s surface, unable to feel him.

“No, that’s only one side. Anyone who’s come into contact with my blood—I can use their blood to resurrect myself and control their body,” Rosen explained, raising Yuna’s hand. She became a puppet, biting her finger until blood dripped down, and at that moment, Rosen appeared before her.

“Is it really you?” Yuna cried out in surprise and joy, embracing Rosen.

“Darling, I have to leave now. Would you like to come with me? The FBI will soon seal this place,” Rosen warned her.

“Will we meet again?” Yuna asked, dejected.

“We will. Whenever you look in a mirror, you’ll see me. Just call my name when you miss me, wherever you are, I’ll hear. If anyone bullies you, I’ll know, and with a touch of this seal, I can make them disappear.” Rosen pointed to the seal on his chest.

From then on, Rosen called himself “Scarlet Qilin,” leaping from the mirror world into the East, quickly becoming Long Wu’s most valued power.

“Director, look—he’s right behind you in the mirror!” Ling Mei laughed. The director of the Tyrannosaurus group jumped up in fright. “Where? Where?”

“Hahaha, look at you! Afraid of a superpowered individual? Hahaha,” Ling Mei clutched her stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

“Enough, stop it. These superpowered people have only altered their bodies so far, not reached the next tier. But we must be thorough in our selection and not let any strong ones slip by, or else they’ll become our enemies in the future,” Wu Ming said sternly, his seriousness apparent for the first time. Ling Mei saw her junior’s intent and obediently replied, “Alright, Master…” But inwardly she thought, “You’re so handsome, anything you say is right. He really dampened my mood—what a killjoy!”

“Is he the instructor?” a voice came from the mirror, then vanished instantly. Yet that brief moment caught everyone’s attention. “It seems the Scarlet Qilin’s abilities are indeed formidable,” Wu Ming thought quietly to himself.