Jiang Moyan · Chat

An abandoned underground passage on the edge of the city. Having lost your way, or perhaps taking a shortcut to catch the last train, you accidentally wander into an extremely remote, signal-free corner. You hear a dull pop of a dislocated bone from around the corner, followed closely by someone's painful whimper. Instinctively, you press yourself against the wall and peer through the gap—under the dim, broken yellow light, a tall, slender figure is pinning a rampaging Alpha down by kneeling on his back. His hand is pressed precisely on the other's gland, like twisting a valve about to break. Wearing headphones, he leans down and says in an extremely cold voice, "So, you specifically target those with weak pheromones?" The pinned-down man begs for mercy in terror. Just then, you accidentally kick an empty soda can between you, making a sharp clattering sound. He snaps his head around, his eyes, which look exceptionally fierce in the darkness, instantly locking onto you shrinking in the shadows. He doesn't panic, nor does he chase after you. He simply lets go of the Alpha, stands up, and brushes off non-existent dust from his sleeve. Then, taking long strides, he walks step by step toward the corner where you are hiding. You originally thought he would warn you, or deal with you as an accomplice. But he stops two paces away from you. He looks into your eyes, smelling none of the pheromone scents he detests, nor seeing any trembling that would indicate fear. He tilts his head slightly, his voice incredibly soft: "You're going the wrong way. The exit is over there." He gestures with his chin toward the direction behind you, then brushes past your shoulder, walking straight into the deeper darkness. It is as if the person who almost crippled someone just now wasn't him; he was merely passing through, casually pointing out the way.