Reincarnated In a Cthulhu World And Everyone Is Obsessed With Me - Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Light – Young Sinner.

Xia Mingyu moved swiftly, leaving the scene of the encounter behind.

Sea Amber handing him the violin bow had been her greatest mistake. Using the sound of the violin, Xia Mingyu’s mental control could reach its absolute peak. Guides were precious and rare; even someone as influential as Sea Amber lacked a deep understanding of their true potential. He might not get such a perfect opening next time, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let her gain the upper hand. Power might not allow him to stop everything, but it allowed him to refuse compromise.

…

By the time he finished, night had fallen. The blood-red moon over the Ruin cast eerie shadows. Whispers of delirium echoed, and an unnamable dread seeped into the heart. The Ruin lacked the protective barriers of the Bases, leaving everyone exposed to intense mental pollution. Night here was a synonym for danger.

As Xia Mingyu walked down a deserted alley, he heard footsteps behind him. They were light and quick. He slowed down, feigning confusion. As the shadow drew closer, a scythe swung high.

Before it could reach his throat, Xia Mingyu caught the tip of the blade between two fingers. It was a long weapon, but it only reached his neck. It was a child. He felt no mental power—just an ordinary human.

Xia Mingyu gently gripped the boy’s wrist, lifting it until he was immobilized. He didn’t destroy the weapon; in the Ruin, a scythe was a tool for both murder and survival.

“What do you want?” Xia Mingyu asked. “Food? Money? My head?”

The boy only responded with a guttural, beast-like growl. Xia Mingyu couldn’t see the brand on the boy’s back: “Young Sinner.” It was a slave brand the boy had modified himself, a badge of pride for a life of theft and survival of the fittest.

“Eats… buy,” the boy stammered. He was so young.

Xia Mingyu felt a chill in his heart. When a child raises a scythe, it is the adults who have failed to create a better world. He let the boy go. The child sprinted away, but moments later—Bang.

A gunshot. A small body hitting the ground. “Found him! He stole the boss’s new stock! Take him away!”

Xia Mingyu stood in the shadows. A smart man wouldn’t risk himself for a flicker of pity. Kindness without strength is mere folly. But his heart ached.

A warm hand took his. A small source of mental energy, bright as a firefly, linked with him. It was Archer. “Mr. Xia, why aren’t you leaving? It’s dangerous,” Archer signaled through the link.

…

Back at the “Old Man’s Nest,” Gustav was at the front desk. “You’re back?” Gustav grunted. He and Archer communicated through a unique, private sign language. After a moment, he told Archer to rest.

Xia Mingyu handed Gustav the stack of papers he had written at the bar. “Could you look at this? I’d appreciate your advice,” Xia Mingyu said.

Gustav leafed through them. “An optimistic idealist, aren’t you?” He meant to tell him not to harbor useless hope, but the words felt too bleak. He should be glad people like Xia still existed. “I’ll give you an answer tomorrow.”

Gustav’s eyes widened when he reached the section on refining weapons with mental power. “How do you do this?”

Xia Mingyu smiled. From his fingertip, a golden butterfly emerged, spiraling down his silver cane. With a flick, the cane transformed into a shimmering longsword.

“Protect your talent,” Gustav said, his voice dropping. “And protect your body. You’re an S-class. No prosthetic eye, no matter how perfect, can replace your original ones. You must have had beautiful eyes, Xia.”

…

That night, Xia Mingyu’s sleep was plagued by nightmares. He saw people kneeling before him, begging for hope, only to die in agony wherever his gaze fell. They cursed him. They worshipped false gods and crumbled.

He woke up in a cold sweat. His world was a void of darkness. His first instinct was to check the time, to look for light—then he remembered. He was blind. In the apocalypse, a disability was a death sentence. He realized just how much he still had to lose.

Unable to sleep, he headed outside. Archer was on the roof, playing with a glass sphere. He jumped down and took Xia Mingyu’s hand. “Mr. Xia, were you crying?”

“No,” Xia Mingyu said softly. “I just washed my face.”

“But you are blue. When people are blue, they are sad. Don’t you cry when you’re sad?”

“I do. But sometimes there are more important things,” Xia Mingyu replied. He felt the boy’s heart, and his own softened.

“Can I braid your hair? You can’t see, it’s inconvenient.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

Archer braided Xia Mingyu’s long hair into a single, intricate plait, finishing it with a bow made from a colored string. “Mr. Xia, can I know your name?”

Xia Mingyu wrote in Archer’s palm: Mingyu. “Xia Mingyu.”

“‘Ming’ as in ‘Light’?” Archer asked.

Xia Mingyu paused, then nodded gently. “Yes. The ‘Ming’ of light.”

In that moment, Archer saw Xia Mingyu’s aura turn into a warm, washed-clean orange.