It was past nine in the evening.
Kamui did not know how he had left that alley.
He only remembered sitting there for a long time.
Long enough for the rain to stop, start again, and then stop once more.
His right leg didn’t hurt as much; at least he could bend it now.
Although the range of motion was small, it was enough for him to stand up and walk.
This was not normal.
His knee had been stomped on like that.
Based on his previous experience in boxing, it should have been at least a ligament strain.
Perhaps even a hairline fracture; how could it have mostly healed in just a few hours?
He didn’t have time to think about this.
There was only one thing on his mind now.
Money.
His daughter’s surgery fees, hospital fees, and medication costs.
And Sun Debiao’s face.
And that red down jacket Zhou Fang was wearing when she got out of the car.
Kamui walked along the side of the road.
His right leg would occasionally twitch with pain, but it was much better than before.
His hands were tucked into the pockets of his cotton-padded jacket.
The palm of his left hand felt hot, as if he were holding a hand warmer.
The heat was neither too high nor too low; it was very comfortable.
But at the same time, it made him feel uneasy.
“Go and take back everything that belongs to you.”
That sentence echoed repeatedly in his mind.
He walked past three intersections.
Passed a row of small restaurants that had already closed for the night.
Finally, he stopped on a street he was very familiar with.
Opposite him was a nightclub named “Debiao Club”.
The neon sign was flickering in the night.
Seven or eight cars were parked at the entrance, and two security guards in suits stood by the door.
Kamui looked at the sign, and the vein in his neck pulsed.
Sun Debiao’s business.
He was the one withholding the construction site money.
His wife was someone Sun Debiao had “helped introduce a job” to, and his knee had been stomped on by Sun Debiao’s men.
Kamui stood in the shadows across the street, watching the neon sign for thirty seconds.
Then he walked forward.
He stopped when he was fifty meters from the nightclub entrance.
He pulled his left hand out of his pocket.
There was nothing in his palm.
But he could feel something wriggling under his skin, moving faster and faster.
“What do you want to do?”
The voice came again.
Kamui did not answer, but his gaze shifted from the nightclub entrance to the black BMW SUV parked at the door.
It was exactly the same as the one from the afternoon.
He recognized the license plate number.
This was the car parked on the side of the road in the afternoon, the one Zhou Fang had stepped out of from the passenger seat.
Sun Debiao had been sitting in the driver’s seat, smiling as he watched Kamui being pinned to the ground.
Kamui gritted his teeth.
He did not hesitate any longer and strode toward the nightclub’s entrance.
The two security guards at the entrance saw a man in a dirty cotton-padded jacket approaching, and one of them reached out to stop him.
“Buddy, this place is closed to the public.”
Kamui didn’t look at him and continued walking inside.
“I’m talking to you, can’t you hear me?”
The security guard’s hand pressed onto Kamui’s shoulder.
Kamui raised his left hand.
He grabbed the security guard’s wrist in one motion.
The security guard’s expression changed instantly.
That kind of strength did not seem like something a human hand could exert.
His wrist bone creaked as it was gripped, as if it had been caught in a hydraulic clamp.
“Let… Let go!”
The security guard’s voice cracked.
He used his other hand to pull at Kamui’s arm, but it didn’t budge.
Kamui tore the guard’s hand off his shoulder and pushed him away casually.
The security guard’s body flew three or four meters away, crashing into a parked car nearby.
The car body dented significantly, and the alarm started Shriek.
The other security guard backed away in fear.
He reached for his waist and pulled out a stun baton.
He kicked open the nightclub’s glass door.
Boom!
The entire door, along with the door frame, was smashed to pieces by the kick.
Shards of glass scattered across the lobby floor.
The lobby was dimly lit, and the music was deafening.
A dozen or so guests were drinking and chatting in the booths and at the bar.
The sound of the glass door shattering made everyone turn their heads to look.
Kamui stood in the middle of the broken glass.
His jacket was covered in water stains and dust, and there was no expression on his face.
Then, the change began.
Starting from his left hand.
A layer of dark gray substance oozed out from the surface of his skin.
It quickly covered his entire left hand like molten liquid metal.
Then his wrist, forearm, and shoulder.
The speed of the coverage became faster and faster.
Chest, abdomen, legs, right arm, and finally his head.
The entire process took less than two seconds.
The person standing in the pile of broken glass was no longer Kamui.
It was a two-meter-three-tall gray giant.
His whole body was covered in thick, liquid fluid, with muscles bulging high.
Each muscle looked like embedded stone, and his shoulders were over a meter wide.
His face was completely covered by the liquid fluid, and his features were blurred.
There were two white, sunken eye sockets, and his mouth was shut.
His feet stepped on the broken glass, and the shards crunched under his weight.
Ah!
Someone in the lobby screamed.
A woman sitting at the bar was so scared she fell right off her high stool and scrambled backward.
Several male guests stood up, but none dared to move forward.
Riot did not look at them.
His two white eye sockets stared straight at the private room door at the back of the lobby that read “VIP Only”.
He began to walk.
With every step he took, the lobby floor vibrated slightly.
The decorative crystal chandelier above swayed, making a clinking sound.
The VIP room door was made of solid wood, covered with a layer of leather on the outside, and looked quite sturdy.
Riot didn’t push the door, nor did he kick it.
He raised his right fist.
He threw a punch.
The entire door, along with the walls on both sides, was blown through.
Splinters of wood and brick debris flew into the private room.
A fist-sized chunk of concrete smashed onto the coffee table in the center of the room.
The coffee table snapped in two.
Four people were sitting in the private room.
Sun Debiao was sitting in the main seat, holding a glass of foreign liquor.
Next to him sat the two bodyguards in black jackets who had beaten Kamui in the afternoon.
Opposite them was a middle-aged man in a suit, likely his business partner.
All four of them were stunned.
The glass in Sun Debiao’s hand fell to the floor.
The red liquid splashed onto the carpet, soaking into a dark patch.
Riot stood in the hole in the wall.
The dust had not yet settled, and his silhouette appeared exceptionally huge within it.
The two bodyguards in black jackets reacted quickly.
The first one pulled a folding knife from behind his waist.
The other grabbed the iron table leg left behind after the coffee table broke.
Riot tilted his head, looking at the one with the knife.
It was the one who had stomped on his knee in the afternoon.
He raised his left hand and grabbed the black-jacketed man’s entire head in one go.
His palm was so large that it covered almost half of the man’s face.
The black-jacketed man’s folding knife stabbed into Riot’s arm.
Riot’s arm hardened instantly.
The moment the tip of the knife touched it, there was a crisp sound.
Bang!
The tip of the knife broke.
Riot applied force.
His five fingers closed.
The black-jacketed man’s body was lifted directly off the ground.
Riot looked at him for two seconds.
Then he threw him out.
Boom!
The black-jacketed man’s body crashed through the tempered glass of the floor-to-ceiling window.
Broken glass and the body flew out of the window together, headfirst, and he was likely dead.
The private room was on the third floor.
Below was the parking lot.
The other black-jacketed man holding the iron table leg saw this scene, dropped the leg from his hand, and turned to run.
Riot did not give him a chance.
He took a step forward; the distance of over two meters required only one stride from him.
His right hand grabbed the black-jacketed man’s back collar, lifted him up like a chicken, and backhanded him onto the carpet.
Under the carpet was a concrete floor, and the floor trembled when the man was slammed down.
The black-jacketed man’s eyes rolled back, and dark red liquid gushed from his mouth and nose simultaneously.
Only Sun Debiao and his friend in the suit remained in the private room.
The man in the suit had long since rolled off the sofa into a corner.
He curled into a ball, covered his head with his hands, and muttered something unintelligible.
Sun Debiao stood up.
His legs were shaking, and the gold chain on his chest swayed back and forth.
The trademark smile on his face had completely disappeared, replaced by naked fear.
“You, what exactly are you?”
Riot walked up to him.
His two-meter-three height loomed over Sun Debiao, who was just over one meter seven.
His shadow completely engulfed him.
Riot did not speak.
He reached out his right hand, grabbed Sun Debiao by the neck, and lifted him off the ground.
“Let… cough, cough… let me go…”
Sun Debiao’s face turned a deep purple.
“You want money… I’ll give you money… whatever amount is fine…”
Riot carried him to the shattered floor-to-ceiling window.
The cold wind from the third floor blew into the room, carrying a light rain.
Outside the window in the parking lot, the black BMW SUV was parked directly below.
Riot carried Sun Debiao to the window, letting his body hang outside the third-floor window.
Sun Debiao looked down, terrified out of his wits, his legs kicking wildly in the air.
“Don’t… Don’t! I beg you!”
Riot let go.
Sun Debiao’s body fell from the third floor.
He slammed onto the roof of the black BMW SUV.
The roof dented inward under the massive impact.
All the airbags deployed, and the car windows shattered all over the ground.
Sun Debiao rolled his eyes and went still, but his chest was still rising and falling weakly; he wasn’t dead.
Riot stood at the third-floor window and looked down for a few seconds.
Then he jumped from the window.
The two-meter-three-tall, two-hundred-plus-kilogram gray giant jumped down from the third floor.
He slammed onto the BMW’s hood.
The entire front half of the car was crushed flat by his weight.
The hood folded up, the front bumper flew off, and the wheels were forced to splay outward.
Riot stood up from the scrap heap and looked at the BMW, which had already turned into a pile of scrap metal under his feet.
He also looked at Sun Debiao, who was unconscious and stuck in the dented roof.
He stepped out of the wrecked car, and the liquid fluid began to slowly recede from his head.
Kamui’s face was revealed.
Expressionless.
Because he had already spent all his emotions.
He turned around, limping across the parking lot, and disappeared into the night.
Behind him, the nightclub’s fire alarm only started ringing half a minute later.
Deep in a rock crevice hundreds of meters beneath the city, Knull was lying quietly.
What Riot fed back was calmness.
These words appeared in Knull’s consciousness.
He savored this brand-new flavor of emotion.
His main body stretched slightly against the rock wall, and his volume increased by a small margin.
Two now.
Carnage and Riot.
Two different types of emotions.
Knull opened both links in his mental network simultaneously.
On one side was the hunger-driven repression of Haruka in the Abandoned Cement Factory.
On the other side was the hollow silence of Kamui after leaving the Debiao Club.
He switched between the two emotions, like a sommelier alternating between tasting two different vintages of red wine.
The weakness from the previous separation had already been more than half digested.