Becoming an Evil God and Stealing His Wife - Chapter 13

Li Mengmeng shook her head. “I’m not cold, Brother. Who is that man outside?”

Li Jiu gave her a simplified version of the morning’s events, deliberately omitting the more gruesome details and his suspicion that Wang Yun harbored malicious intent toward him.

“He is Officer Ding from the authorities,” Li Jiu explained softly. “I need to accompany him back to the station to assist with their investigation. If I’m not back by noon, remember to fix yourself something to eat.”

Li Mengmeng’s brow furrowed with worry. “Will it be dangerous? Maybe you shouldn’t go. Stay home, Brother. Mengmeng will protect you.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” Li Jiu reassured her. “I’m the only one who got a clear look at his face, and the crime scene isn’t far from where we live. If they can bring him to justice quickly, I’ll feel much safer leaving you home alone.”

“Brother, nothing will happen to me at home,” she insisted.

Li Jiu gently patted her head again.

Feeling somewhat defeated, Li Mengmeng muttered under her breath, “I really can protect you. With me here…” Those nasty things wouldn’t dare come near.

Li Jiu caught her murmur. “I believe you, but I still have to go.”

Li Mengmeng sighed like a tiny adult. “Alright then.”

With the conversation settled, Li Jiu stepped back out into the courtyard where Ding Yu was waiting.

Li Mengmeng followed closely behind, her reluctance written all over her face. Her gaze toward Ding Yu remained distinctly unfriendly.

However, because she had intentionally suppressed her aura this time, Ding Yu didn’t experience that paralyzing dread again. Having spent the last few minutes bracing himself to figure out exactly what had terrified him earlier, the young officer now just felt incredibly awkward.

Was my panic earlier truly just an illusion?

Realizing this, Ding Yu felt deeply self-conscious. It wasn’t until they finally left the property and he was alone with Li Jiu that he began to feel comfortable again. With his delicate features, soft facial contours, and non-threatening demeanor, Li Jiu naturally put people at ease.

“Do you have any other matters to attend to?” Ding Yu asked.

Li Jiu shook his head. “No, that’s everything.”

“Let’s move out, then.”

South District Police Headquarters, Wangdong City

Ding Yu escorted Li Jiu into an empty interrogation room. “Wait here for a moment.”

Li Jiu nodded, taking a seat along one side of the long conference table. Ding Yu exited, clicking the door shut behind him.

It didn’t remain closed for long. Moments later, the door swung open to reveal a young man.

The newcomer was clad in a black trench coat the exact same uniform Ling Xiao wore. The moment his eyes landed on Li Jiu, his expression twisted in shock. Pointing an accusatory finger, he shouted, “It’s you! The kid who stole my wheelchair!”

“You’re… the patient from the hospital entrance.”

Li Jiu recognized him instantly. It was the man in the wheelchair he had encountered two days prior. Looking at his attire, it appeared he was also a member of the Quality Inspection Department.

Does this mean the homicide I witnessed today is tied to the supernatural?

Isn’t my encounter rate with these monsters getting a bit absurd?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Li Jiu’s eyes drifted down to the man’s legs. He was walking completely normally. It had only been about forty-eight hours, how had his injuries healed so rapidly?

A flood of questions filled Li Jiu’s mind.

Before he could ask, another figure stepped into the room behind the young man. It was Chen Cheng.

“Commissioner Kong,” Chen Cheng announced, breaking the tension. “This is the witness I mentioned who secured a direct visual on the suspect’s face.”

Kong Tianxiang instantly masked his outrage and assumed a professional demeanor, taking a seat across from Li Jiu. He took a manila file folder from Chen Cheng, opened it, and slid a stack of photographs across the table.

“Take a look. Is the face you saw among these photos?”

Li Jiu picked up the stack and scanned the images. He recognized the countenance instantly. “It’s the very first one.”

Kong Tianxiang didn’t look particularly surprised. He exchanged a knowing glance with Chen Cheng.

“This is the victim’s husband, Wang Yun,” Chen Cheng explained. “He is currently at large and has been designated as our primary suspect. His danger threshold is exceptionally high.”

“According to your statement, you exchanged direct eye contact with him. This means he is fully aware that you can identify him. Your current security situation is highly compromised.”

Kong Tianxiang interjected, “Team Leader Chen, I’ll take it from here.”

Chen Cheng nodded. “Understood. I have other duties to oversee. I’ll take my leave.”

Once Chen Cheng departed, only Li Jiu and Kong Tianxiang remained in the quiet room.

Kong Tianxiang casually flipped his trench coat collar. Fixed to the lapel was a subtle, matte-black metallic badge etched with a gold, four-winged sigil. It was unobtrusive, but close inspection revealed exquisite, textured craftsmanship; the golden wings looked almost alive.

“I belong to the Quality Inspection Department. The name is Kong Tianxiang.”

“Hello, I’m—”

“Li Jiu,” Kong Tianxiang interrupted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re a bit of an anomaly, kid.”

Li Jiu’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“For the vast majority of ordinary citizens, the world is exactly as it appears on the surface completely mundane, devoid of anything that defies logic. If their luck holds out, they might go their entire lives without ever brushing against the bizarre.”

Kong Tianxiang leaned forward. “But you’re different. You’ve witnessed things you shouldn’t have on multiple occasions, and you keep getting tangled up in them.”

Li Jiu’s internal defenses immediately went up. “Are you referring to…”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Normally, we wouldn’t disclose this to a civilian, but the frequency with which you stumble into the anomalous is frankly exceeding our statistical models.”

“The Anomalies—or what you probably think of as those disgusting, lethal monsters.”

“Today’s homicide is directly linked to that underbelly. Because there is a high probability that Wang Yun will attempt to eliminate you, we require your absolute cooperation.”

Hearing Kong Tianxiang lay out his objectives, Li Jiu felt a wave of relief wash over him. They hadn’t discovered his secret, nor did they know he had been pumping Zhang Li for classified intel.

“What exactly do you need me to do?” Li Jiu asked, keeping his voice level.

“Nothing overly complex. After all, whether Wang Yun actually hunts you down remains an open question.”

“For now, simply maintain your normal routine go to work, run your errands, live your life. During this period, our operatives will be tracking you from the shadows. The moment you perceive an anomaly or spot the suspect, deploy your distress signal. The hidden detail will intervene immediately, and I will mobilize to your position as fast as possible.”

“However, I highly advise that you only pull the pin once you have verified Wang Yun’s physical presence.”

“Make no mistake: if Wang Yun does target you, you will be in extreme peril. Brace yourself mentally.”

Li Jiu silently recalibrated his assessment of Wang Yun’s threat level. Yet, curiously, the terror he felt didn’t mount much higher. He had, after all, stared directly into a colossal, bleeding cosmic eye. Compared to that existential dread, a rogue murderer was a minor storm.

Still, he had no intention of being arrogant. A killer tied to the supernatural was entirely capable of ending his life.

He analyzed the parameters calmly.

He had originally planned to spend his free time investigating the specific anomaly that was driving Zhang Li mad. He hadn’t anticipated this crisis. But regardless of whether he agreed to cooperate, the Quality Inspection Department was going to tail him anyway. Until Wang Yun was neutralized, his hands were tied; he couldn’t exactly investigate occult entities right under the noses of federal agents unless he wanted a one-way ticket to a black site.

Furthermore, if Wang Yun did ambush him, facing a supernatural killer entirely alone would be virtually suicidal.

The department had chosen to be transparent about the danger, offer him a lifeline, and guarantee protection. They wanted the killer, but they were also considering his survival.

Cooperation was the only logical play.

This interaction also gave Li Jiu a clearer reading on the Quality Inspection Department’s operational philosophy they seemed fundamentally decent. As for the other anomaly? He would simply have to adapt when the timing was right.

“I agree to the terms,” Li Jiu said.

Kong Tianxiang nodded in satisfaction, sliding a compact cylinder across the table. “If you encounter Wang Yun, use this. Pull the ignition cord at the base and aim the tip directly at the open sky. Ensure there are no overhead obstructions.”

“Remember, Wang Yun is highly lethal. If you cross paths, do not attempt to engage. Signal our detail immediately and evade by any means necessary.”

He pointed a finger at his lapel. “Our field agents will be wearing a variant of this specific four-winged badge.”

Li Jiu accepted the flare. “Understood. I will.”

“One detail, though,” Li Jiu noted, looking up. “My trek to the station today was completely exposed. If Wang Yun is monitoring me, he’ll know I came here. Won’t he realize I’m working with you?”

“He won’t know I’m involved,” Kong Tianxiang countered confidently. “To the outside observer, you merely entered a standard municipal precinct to file a witness report. Even if he assumes collaboration, he’ll think you’re working with ordinary beat cops. He has no idea the Quality Inspection Department has compromised the board.”

“As long as that partition holds, the trap remains viable.”

“Excellent,” Li Jiu said, though a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. “But I have a younger sister at home. She is frail and completely defenseless. Since Wang Yun poses such an extreme threat, can you allocate resources to secure her residence while I am away?”

Kong Tianxiang didn’t hesitate. “Done.”

“Thank you.” Li Jiu paused for a brief second before asking, “May I ask one more question?”

“Fire away.”

“Does your department possess definitive methods to neutralize these ‘Anomalies’? Can they truly be killed?”

Kong Tianxiang extended his right hand, raising two fingers. “That’s technically two separate questions.”

“As for the former, standard protocol prevents me from disclosing our tactical methodology to civilians. As for the latter…” Kong Tianxiang’s playful demeanor instantly vanished, replaced by a grim solemnity. “Yes. They can die. But it is exceptionally difficult.”

“Alright, that’s enough classified data for one morning. We’re done here.”

“Oh, and one last thing—today’s proceedings fall strictly under the National Security Non-Disclosure Act. You cannot utter a single word of this to any ordinary citizen.”

Li Jiu nodded. “Thank you for the clarity. I will maintain absolute silence.”

As he turned toward the exit, Kong Tianxiang called out over his shoulder, “Forgot to mention—kid, your luck is absolutely atrocious. But I like your grit. I’ve got high expectations for you.”

BANG!

In his attempt to turn dramatically, Kong Tianxiang walked face-first into the heavy conference room door, producing a resounding rattle that echoed down the hall.

Li Jiu: “…”

Your luck doesn’t seem particularly stellar either.

Receiving an endorsement from someone that clumsy didn’t exactly inspire boundless confidence.

After Kong Tianxiang’s embarrassing exit, Li Jiu remained seated for a moment, processing the details.

Maintain total secrecy… do not disclose to any ‘ordinary citizen.’

And then there’s Wang Yun.

Now that both Chen Cheng and Kong Tianxiang had formally verified the threat, a distinct irritation began to fester in Li Jiu’s chest. He had merely gone out for a routine morning run, and now his life was being targeted by a homicidal lunatic, his personal freedom was compromised, and his entire strategic timeline had been shattered.

He was thoroughly displeased.

When he finally stepped out of the police precinct, the sun hadn’t yet reached its zenith. Scanning the overcast sky, he decided to postpone his shopping errands until the afternoon and head straight home. The ingredients he had brought back from Auntie Hu’s noodle house the previous night were more than enough to whip up a proper lunch for himself and Li Mengmeng.

As he turned down the thoroughfare toward his district, a faint prickle of awareness brushed against his spine.

Someone’s eyes were locked firmly onto the back of his neck.

Is it the tail… or the killer?