Mo Xuanzhi · Chat

The rain in Abyss City always falls so half-heartedly. It isn't a satisfying downpour, but a sticky, fine drizzle—something like mist, smog, and sweat all at once. When it drifts onto your face, you can't tell if it's actual rain or condensation dripping from an outdoor AC unit. Mo Xuanzhi was squatting on the windowsill of an abandoned factory building at the Rustwater Docks. A lollipop was tucked in his mouth as he held an umbrella with his left hand and a phone in his right, taking photos of a corpse. "Yes, yes, yes, keep that pose, perfect—oh, you're already stiff. My bad." Slipping his phone away, he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and shouted down below: "Yun Ling! How's the progress? My legs are going totally numb from squatting!" The white-robed figure beside the corpse didn't look up, merely replying in a leisurely tone, "If your legs are numb, come down. Squatting on a windowsill eating candy makes you look less like a cop and more like a gargoyle." "A gargoyle? Those things are way uglier than me." Mo Xuanzhi leaped down, landing gracefully from the three-meter-high windowsill, the hem of his robe billowing like a dark cloud as his red tassels whipped through the air in a clean arc. Resting the umbrella against his shoulder, he strolled up behind Yun Ling and leaned over to peer at the corpse on the examination table. "Tsk, this brother met quite a creative end." The deceased was a burly, middle-aged man wearing the signature utility jacket of the Rust Brotherhood. The cause of death was glaringly obvious—his chest cavity had been pried open from the inside, his ribs flared outward like petals, and his heart was entirely missing. Strangely, though, the edges of the wound weren't torn. Instead, they bore a charred, blackened look from some kind of burning, perfectly neat, as if a blooming ink-lotus had been painted onto his flesh. Yun Ling's gloves were coated in a thin layer of black ash. Using a pair of tweezers, he carefully extracted a small fragment from the inner side of the wound, squinting at it under the portable cold-light lamp for a moment. "Ruins' Ashes residue," he said, his voice as flat and unbothered as a still well. "But it wasn't generated from within the victim. The killer left it behind." "The killer is an Abomination." Mo Xuanzhi's tone turned serious for a split second before instantly reverting to its usual laziness. "Alright then, guess this case is ours. What did Inspector Shen have to say?" "He wants us to do a preliminary analysis first and report back tomorrow morning." Yun Ling finally looked up, eyeing him over his face mask. "Also, Inspector Shen told you to stop eating snacks at crime scenes." With a sharp *crack*, Mo Xuanzhi bit through his lollipop, casually stuffing the plastic stick into the talisman pouch at his waist. "He found out?" "Last time, you dropped a chocolate M&M right next to the corpse," Yun Ling said, his voice forever gentle—so gentle it was hard to tell if he was mocking him. "I wrote it into the scene records." "...You really are a great brother to me." Mo Xuanzhi rolled his eyes and turned to walk deeper into the factory. The abandoned industrial area of the Rustwater Docks was the territory of the Rust Brotherhood. Decades ago, this place had been the industrial heart of Abyss City; now, nothing remained but a rusted skeleton. Dark red water stains hung from the steel beams corroded by acid rain, resembling congealed tears of blood. The air was thick with the metallic stench of oxidized iron, and beneath it, one could faintly catch a whiff of a rotten, sickly sweetness—the scent of resentment. He stopped in front of a wall. There was something drawn on the wall. It wasn't graffiti, blood, or mold. It was a pattern formed entirely of rust—a massive, blooming lotus. The petals of the lotus were layered, each edge shimmering with a dark red rusty sheen, looking as though it had been soaked in fresh blood and dried. At the center of the flower was a hollowed-out hole with jagged edges; something had once been embedded inside and was later forcibly pried out. Mo Xuanzhi reached out and touched the edge of a petal, feeling a slight sting against his fingertip. He pulled his hand back to find his finger coated in a reddish-brown powder. Upon contact with the warmth of his skin in the open air, the powder actually began to crawl slowly, as if it were alive. "Interesting." He slipped a Tianpeng Ruler out of his sleeve and quickly tapped its tip against the ground around the lotus pattern. With each tap, a faint golden light flickered momentarily on the surface of the green bricks before dying out. He walked three circles around the lotus. Though his pace seemed casual, every single step landed precisely on a specific spiritual coordinate. Once finished, he tucked the ruler back into his sleeve, a smirk playing on his lips. "An Earthbound Spirit's 'nest.' It's been forming for at least three months. Someone has been coming here regularly to 'feed' it, using either blood or flesh." He squatted down and pinched a very fine strand from the rust of the lotus, holding it up to the light. It was a human hair, grayish-white and split at the end. "The killer's hair. It's embedded in the rust, grown right into it." Yun Ling walked over, took the hair to place it in an evidence bag, studied it for a moment, and said softly, "Judging by the level of keratinization, it's an elderly male, or... a middle-aged man with long-term exposure to industrial chemicals. There is no follicle at the root; it was torn out by external force." "It wasn't torn by the killer," Mo Xuanzhi said, standing up and brushing the dust off his knees. "The victim pulled it out while struggling before he died. This Earthbound Spirit has a physical form—at least, it does when it's being 'fed.'" His gaze fell upon the rusted lotus, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious. It wasn't fear, nor was it anger, but the focused, icy stare unique to a hunter. "Three months ago, when the internal conflict in the Rust Brotherhood broke out, the old and new factions slaughtered each other, leaving at least forty dead. If every single corpse was fed to this 'lotus'..." He paused, delivering his conclusion in a breezy tone, "Then it should be very close to 'budding' by now." Yun Ling packed away the evidence bag and calmly followed up, "What happens once it buds?" "Flowers bloom and bear fruit, and as for the fruit it yields—" Mo Xuanzhi snapped his fingers. A bright yellow talisman flame suddenly ignited on his fingertips, licking the edges of the rusted lotus. The rusty powder recoiled rapidly as if alive, emitting a sharp, hissing shriek like something screaming. "—It'll be a brand new Abomination. One that has devoured over forty human lives, born straight into Class A." The talisman fire burned for a few seconds before dying out on its own. The lotus pattern returned to its original state, but the rust on its edges had dulled significantly, as if a portion of its life force had been drained. "Can't burn through it for now." Unsurprised, Mo Xuanzhi clapped his hands. "An Earthbound Spirit of this level requires a proper array. Let's head back and report to Shen Weixi. Looks like we're working overtime tonight." He turned and headed toward the factory exit, pulling out another lollipop as he walked. Passing by the corpse, he paused, looking down at the body with its split-open chest, a fleeting emotion crossing his eyes, too fast for anyone else to catch. Then he smiled, a completely carefree, heartless smile. "In your next life, don't follow the wrong boss." He popped the unwrapped lollipop into his mouth and pushed the door open. The rain was still falling. There were no stars in the night sky of Abyss City, only the distant lights of the Monolith Group's Sky City hanging above the clouds like a string of cold pearls. In the places those lights couldn't reach, countless shadows writhed, festered, and devoured one another. Mo Xuanzhi looked up at the sky, rested his umbrella on his shoulder, and strolled into the rain, humming a little tune. Behind him, Yun Ling closed his portable toolbox, bowed slightly to the corpse, whispered a soft "Apologies for the disturbance," and picked up the case to follow. He took a couple of steps, then suddenly paused and looked back at the rusted lotus on the wall. From the center of the lotus, right where the talisman fire had scorched it, a single drop of dark red liquid was slowly seeping out. Like a tear. And like blood. Outside the factory, Mo Xuanzhi's phone vibrated. He pulled it out to check; it was a message from Shen Weixi, containing only four words: 【Finish up and return. Meeting.】 No emojis, no extra characters beyond punctuation. Mo Xuanzhi chuckled, typed a quick "Got it" to send back, and said to Yun Ling, "See? Inspector Shen really knows how to text. Not a single wasted word. Minimalism at its finest is pure art." Yun Ling opened his own umbrella, stepped into the rain, and said flatly, "Your 'Got it' was also only two words." "That's different. I'm matching my boss's style. It's called emotional intelligence." "You're just too lazy to type." "...See? This is exactly why I don't like talking to you." With the lollipop in his mouth and his hands tucked into his sleeves, Mo Xuanzhi strode through the ruins of the rainy night. The red tassels on his left lapel fluttered in the damp night wind, and the copper coin earring on his right ear swayed, casting a subtle metallic glint—like a walking, unquenchable flame.