Chapter 152: I Am An Evil Pen (IX)

Previous Chapter ◊ Table of Content ◊ Next Chapter

Chapter 152: I Am An Evil Pen (IX)

“Brother Xiong, I only asked you to burn down an empty workshop. How did you end up getting people killed?” Bai Lin demanded angrily over the phone, his expression ugly as he watched the news playing on television.

“How was I supposed to know there were people inside? Only two nobodies without any real background died. You don’t need to be so nervous.”

“Nobodies?” Bai Lin roared in exasperation. “Didn’t you see that Wen Jingrong nearly burned to death too? And you actually used Black Ignition Fluid as an accelerant! That stuff is prohibited. If they trace it back to us, we’re going to prison!”

Brother Xiong replied carelessly from the other end, “I had no choice. Wen Jingrong’s workshop was built almost entirely with fire-resistant materials. If I wanted to burn it down, I had to use extraordinary measures. I only did it to complete the job you gave me. You can’t dump all the responsibility on me now.”

“Did I tell you to use Black Ignition Fluid? Did I tell you to burn people to death?” Bai Lin felt as though someone had dragged him straight into a pit.

“Heh. I recorded the call where you told me to set the fire. No matter what happens, you’re going down with me.”

Bai Lin’s face reddened with fury. After a long moment, he asked coldly, “You were setting me up from the beginning?”

“What do you mean, setting you up? I’d do anything for you.” Brother Xiong chuckled. “We’re in the same boat now, so we ought to cooperate. Come to Room 711 at Fuwei Hotel tonight at ten. We’ll discuss how to handle what comes next.”

Bai Lin remained frozen with the phone in his hand. Even after the busy signal sounded, he still had not recovered from his fear…

At the villa, Wen Jingrong leaned against the headboard and stared blankly at the evil pen in his hand. He had weathered plenty of storms in his life, but never anything this far beyond his understanding. His lover had turned into a pen—and that pen was the keepsake his father had left him, the very object Wen Jingrong had carried on his body every single day.

In other words, all this time he had been dating a pen, having sex with a pen, eating meals cooked by a pen, and imagining a future together with a pen?

No wonder he could never uncover Keke’s background. Keke was not human in the first place!

【It belongs to you. It won’t abandon you and run away.】

The words Shang Ke had spoken not long ago suddenly resurfaced in Wen Jingrong’s mind. He had not understood them then, but now their true meaning was obvious.

Wen Jingrong gently stroked the pen’s now-dull surface. One thing was perfectly clear: far more than the shock of discovering that Shang Ke was a pen demon, what truly frightened him was the possibility of losing him.

Wen Jingrong had escaped the fire with only minor injuries, something even the firefighters found unbelievable. Only then had he realized that Shang Ke had used his own power to protect him and had disappeared because that power was exhausted. If he had not been forced to the limit, why else would Shang Ke have revealed his true form right before him?

Perhaps Wen Jingrong should never have rushed inside. It was because he appeared that Shang Ke had been forced to overuse his power protecting him.

Even though Wen Jingrong knew nothing about creatures like pen demons, one look at the pen’s loss of luster was enough to tell him that Shang Ke’s condition was bad.

“Keke, what am I supposed to do for you?” Wen Jingrong murmured despondently.

At that moment, the phone beside him chimed. Wen Jingrong casually opened the message, and his secretary’s voice came through. “President Wen, the public relations department has already handled the media coverage. All that remains is to wait for the police investigation.”

A cold gleam flashed through Wen Jingrong’s eyes. This incident had clearly been deliberate, but one thing made no sense: why go to such lengths to burn down a workshop that had not even officially opened? They had even used Black Ignition Fluid, a substance explicitly banned by the government. Losing a single workshop meant almost nothing to Wen Jingrong. It neither caused him any meaningful financial damage nor harmed his reputation. On the contrary, his act of rushing into the fire to save someone had greatly improved his public image.

Could it simply have been an act committed by some antisocial criminal lashing out at society? But then how had they obtained Black Ignition Fluid? Its black-market price had been driven extraordinarily high. Anyone capable of affording it was unlikely to be under serious financial pressure. How likely was someone like that to commit a random act of revenge against society?

Unable to make sense of it after thinking for a long time, Wen Jingrong could only instruct his secretary to closely monitor the police investigation and report any developments immediately. He had no intention of going out for the next few days, lest the media surround him.

Two people had died in the fire, and many outsiders believed Shang Ke was one of them. After all, he had never emerged after charging into the flames for the third time. Videos of him rescuing people had spread all over the internet, and countless viewers were awestruck by that breathtaking figure moving through the inferno.

Wen Jingrong watched the videos over and over again, his heart aching a little more every time.

Wen Jingrong placed the smartpen on the pillow and opened his laptop to review some company documents. Almost immediately, however, he felt uneasy, picked the pen back up, and tucked it securely into the pocket over his chest.

After working for a while, he repositioned the smartpen, opened an animated show, shrank the video into one corner of the screen, and continued reading documents amid its lively sound effects.

Less than ten minutes later, something bothered him again. He picked up the pen, examined it from top to bottom, and asked, “Keke, where exactly is your head? Can you even see the animation I’m playing?”

Shang Ke: “…” I don’t even have the energy to comment.

The smartpen’s body served as Shang Ke’s protective shell. As long as he remained inside it, he did not have to worry about Wen Jingrong’s good fortune harming him. Unfortunately, it also prevented him from absorbing baleful energy, making it difficult to restore his power.

In his current condition, Shang Ke could not even enter Wen Jingrong’s dreams. His only hope was for the man to darken emotionally enough to squeeze out a little baleful energy and help repair his body.

Unfortunately, Wen Jingrong’s mental fortitude was far too strong. He had discovered that his lover was an evil pen and had not been frightened in the slightest. In fact, he had accepted it remarkably well. Was there something fundamentally wrong with this man’s worldview?!

Wen Jingrong searched online for information about supernatural spirits and demons, only to find a chaotic mix of truth and nonsense. Finally, he posted a request for help:

【My lover is a pen demon. He’s badly injured and currently unable to assume human form. How can I help him recover?】

Within minutes, he received plenty of replies.

【OP, are you an idiot? How could pen demons possibly exist? What are those of us waiting for thousand-year-old fox demons, rabbit demons, and flower demons supposed to think?】

【You’re the idiot upstairs. Who says pen demons don’t exist? I’ve got a flowerpot demon at home that tends my plants every day. Couldn’t be more considerate!】

【Hey, all of you are going off topic. OP’s pen demon is injured. Could you show a little sympathy and actually help solve the problem?】

【Speaking from my experience as a demon, OP can take his pen demon somewhere with dense demonic energy and let him absorb it to recover naturally.】

Wen Jingrong thought that sounded somewhat plausible, so he replied:

【What places have especially dense demonic energy?】

【Bars, karaoke clubs, nightclubs, haunted houses, hair salons, the entertainment industry…】

Wen Jingrong: Manually sends a goodbye emoji.

Watching from beside him, Shang Ke was so entertained that his entire pen body trembled with laughter.

President Wen, your entire character image is collapsing!

Feeling the pen vibrate, Wen Jingrong held him up in front of the screen. “Keke, what do you think?”

What do I think? It’s useless! What I need is baleful energy—baleful energy!

Shang Ke thought for a moment, then painstakingly gathered his power and slowly wrote across the screen:

【Do you know anyone in prison?】

If they were looking for a place saturated with violent baleful energy, a prison was the obvious first choice. Shang Ke estimated that a single visit would be enough to replenish him substantially. But they could not remain there for long, because an environment like that would wear away at Wen Jingrong’s good fortune.

Wen Jingrong was delighted to receive an actual response from Shang Ke and hurriedly asked, “What do you need to go to prison for?”

【The demonic energy there is dense. It can help me recover.】

“I understand.” Wen Jingrong asked no further questions and immediately made a call to arrange a prison visit.

A former manager at Wen Jingrong’s company had been sent to prison for embezzlement. Coincidentally, the man was also a distant relative, so visiting him was perfectly reasonable.

The next day, Wen Jingrong drove to the prison with his Shang-Ke-brand evil pen in tow.

The moment they reached the prison entrance, Shang Ke felt waves of rich baleful energy rushing toward him. They were like platter after platter of delicious food, practically making him drool.

Once Wen Jingrong completed the visiting procedures, he met the former manager in the visitation room.

Shang Ke paid no attention to what they discussed. He was far too busy frantically absorbing baleful energy. Although Wen Jingrong’s good fortune purified most of it, the strands that slipped through were still enough to give Shang Ke a wonderfully satisfying feast.

By the time the visitation period ended, Shang Ke had replenished almost all of the baleful energy he had consumed during the fire.

On the way back to the villa, Wen Jingrong asked while driving, “Keke, how was it?”

“Very good.” A soft voice reached Wen Jingrong’s ears.

Wen Jingrong glanced around but saw no sign of Shang Ke.

“Here, over here.” Shang Ke’s voice sounded again, this time directly in front of him.

Wen Jingrong looked down and was stunned to see a thumb-sized little person sitting on the steering wheel, cheerfully waving at him.

Wen Jingrong’s fingers tightened so hard that he nearly twisted the steering wheel apart. Fortunately, he regained control at the last second. Not a trace of alarm showed on his face; only his rigid muscles betrayed his astonishment.

His lover had turned into a thumb-sized doll and was sitting on his steering wheel waving at him. What expression, exactly, was appropriate for greeting such a magnificent entrance?

After thinking it over, Wen Jingrong decided that the first priority was probably removing him from the steering wheel. Watching Shang Ke sway along with every turn made him feel distinctly uneasy.

Wen Jingrong gently circled Shang Ke’s body with two fingers and carefully placed him on the passenger seat.

“Keke, why are you so small?”

“To conserve power.” Maintaining a full-sized adult physical form required a considerable amount of energy. Shang Ke intended to accumulate more baleful energy inside Wen Jingrong’s dreams before returning to his normal size.

“Do you need me to visit prison a few more times?” Wen Jingrong asked solemnly.

“No.” A prison was a place where baleful energy accumulated heavily. If there had been any other choice, Shang Ke would never have brought Wen Jingrong somewhere like that. Wen Jingrong was bound to him by contract, and without the protection of his good fortune, Shang Ke probably would have dragged him down long ago. An evil pen was not something an ordinary person could safely possess. Even the kindest people had darkness somewhere inside them. Someone as genuinely pure-hearted as Wen Jingrong’s father was extraordinarily rare.

Wen Jingrong’s good fortune was both the weapon that harmed Shang Ke and the protection that allowed Shang Ke to remain safely by his side.

That night, Shang Ke eagerly entered Wen Jingrong’s dream, where the two entwined intimately and poured out their hearts to each other… All right, in truth, most of their “communication” consisted of deep and shallow thrusts.

“What are we going to do about the workshop?” Shang Ke asked during a break.

“I’ll arrange for the workers to train at another factory first. Once this workshop is rebuilt, they can formally start work here.” Wen Jingrong remained draped over Shang Ke, counting his fingers one by one while privately marveling at the pen demon’s transformation ability. Even the shape of his fingernails was flawless.

“I still don’t understand who set that fire. They destroyed a workshop and killed two people. What could they possibly gain from doing that?”

Frost covered Wen Jingrong’s eyes. “I’m going to investigate this until I know exactly what happened. Anyone who dares cause trouble on my territory will pay the price.”

More importantly, they had nearly made him lose his pen!

His one and only evil pen in the entire world!

Shang Ke: Why do I constantly feel like someone is insulting me…?

Previous Chapter ◊ Table of Content ◊ Next Chapter