Slumped in his wheelchair, Ji Jue couldn’t stop complaining. “How many days has it been now? Why hasn’t the Security Bureau made a move yet? Come on, there should’ve been some big news by now…”

Surely they weren’t actually going to leave him here to join the aberrants?

A gaunt, haggard face stared back at him from the polished surface of the mirror. His skin was paper-white, as though he had not seen sunlight in years. He was so thin that he was practically skin and bones, and his breathing was so slow that no one would have found it strange to see him lying in an intensive care unit.

And yet, amid the strands of hair that had turned white, an eerie light flickered deep within his increasingly dark eyes. Whenever his gaze swept past something or lowered in thought, that light smoldered. He looked like some ghostly demon inhabiting a corpse, radiating a chilling, deathly presence. Even if Mr. No-Fun stood right...