The moment her eyes met Su Ya’s, Lu Shan found herself unable to refuse.
As if possessed, she let herself be pulled into an unremarkable bar next door.
There weren’t many people inside, but it didn’t feel deserted either.
Unlike the other girls in skimpy outfits who headed straight for the neon lights, Su Ya walked directly up to the bar and ordered a glass of Vodka.
As for Lu Shan, she cradled a coffee jelly in her hands.
Before she realized it, Su Ya was already gulping down her drink.
All Su Ya seemed to want was pure alcohol—one glass after another, as if she were drinking water.
Yet her face showed barely a hint of drunkenness, leaving Lu Shan completely dumbfounded.
“Are you friends with Su Mu?”
Lu Shan hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
Though her senior could be both good and bad towards her, their familiarity probably qualified as friendship.
“How did you two meet? Online?”
Another nod.
‘Why does she seem to know everything?’
Su Ya sized up Lu Shan from head to toe.
The latter, feeling nervous, sat stiffly with her hands and feet pressed tightly together.
This posture, however, seemed to satisfy Su Ya quite a bit.
Yes, she’s a bit of a weirdo, but probably not the kind to lead Su Mu astray.
“How should I address you?”
“Just call me Lu Shan.”
What followed was some casual conversation, much like a mom curious about what sort of friends her daughter had made—asking trivial things that quickly put Lu Shan at ease.
She must be Senior’s older sister.
But in the very next moment, Su Ya’s question left her too stunned to speak.
“You’re quite the powerful weirdo, aren’t you? I’m curious—how many people did you hurt before you made it this far?”
Although there was still a gentle smile on Su Ya’s face, with a hint of boozy flush on her cheeks, her words chilled Lu Shan to the bone.
Her pupils trembled uncontrollably.
“Senior, you’re not joking…right?”
“I know, weirdos have it rough too. I just simply want to know how you all got through it. I was once so extreme in my thinking that I dealt with many weirdos harshly. Of course, they were all butchers with blood on their hands. But I still have nightmares about it all the time.”
Su Ya’s eyes reflected the faintly trembling Lu Shan, occasionally flashing with an unfathomable light.
But like the Vodka she drank, these emotions had long been distilled by time, leaving no trace of sorrow or joy—only purity remained.
Hearing her words, Lu Shan grew even more frightened.
She didn’t dare say a word, afraid the other might just “deal” with her like she was nothing but trash on the roadside.
“Sigh, that really does sound scary, doesn’t it? Never mind, I should have waited until we were better acquainted before bringing this up. I guess I drank a bit too much.”
Unnoticed, Su Ya had already downed several more glasses.
Even the bartender’s gaze had changed.
Nearby men, drawn in by her charm, watched her for a while in shock, then couldn’t even find words.
Some even seemed ready to call for an ambulance.
Could she really not get alcohol poisoning?
“As for all that, just treat it as a friend’s fee from me. You’re not far from B-rank. All you need is a little push—so let me help you get rid of your troubles with Dark Magic Power.”
Su Ya placed her hand on the dazed Lu Shan’s shoulder.
Having already lost her sense of magic, Lu Shan just felt dizzy, her legs unsteady.
Her memories blurred up until she fell onto a bed, and when she woke the next day, she still had a splitting hangover headache and zero motivation, taking several days off in a row.
Lu Shan cobbled together a jumbled account, making the already messy truth even more confusing.
Su Mu was left utterly baffled, but at least there was one thing she understood.
Her own mother was no ordinary person.
But that didn’t put her at ease—instead, her brows drew together more tightly.
Because in Su Mu’s memories, Su Ya had always seemed so exhausted that even breathing looked like it drained her of all energy.
That wasn’t an act.
Even though Su Mu still resented her for ignoring her so much, it didn’t mean she didn’t care about Su Ya.
‘No matter what, at the very least, she raised me healthy.’
***
“Everyone, look this way. Take a good look at this young lady in front of the camera.”
In a dimly lit room, a woman tightly bound to a chair struggled in terror.
Somewhere behind her in the darkness, a demon-like shadow seemed poised to devour her at any moment.
But what the camera captured was only her fear-stricken expression.
“Allow me to introduce tonight’s guest—these days, she’s the most famous one out there. I’m sure you all recognize her face.”
With the coaxing of an unfamiliar male voice, the audience in the livestream finally recognized her face.
The barrage of on-screen comments flew by like a swarm of locusts—mostly unspeakable curses.
Clearly, she was a “focal figure.”
“Hey, don’t cry. Didn’t you look pretty excited on camera back then? Need me to help you remember what you did?”
A powerful hand stretched out from the shadows, pressing down on her head and forcing her to look at the on-screen comments.
– Gold digger! Tear her foul mouth apart!
– There’s a way to make money in this world: just find some naive guy to marry, then get a quickie divorce within a month and pocket tens of thousands in bride price plus half the guy’s assets. Faster than robbing a bank, tax-free, and you can even sue for assault if he resists. But I wonder—if you make money like this, what do your parents think back home?
– Mr. Justice, just chop her up already. No need for a poll.
The man called Justice gave a chilling smile, letting a cold glint flash out.
Amid the woman’s painful struggle, he gently traced a bloody line along her neck.
“Well said, but for fairness’ sake, I won’t make the call myself. It’s all up to your votes.”
As he spoke, the livestream popped up a voting window.
On one side was “Innocent” in white, on the other, “Guilty” in blood-red.
Almost instantly, calls for “guilty” surged to dozens of times that for “innocent.”
In just a few seconds, the vote maxed out.
Satisfied, the man took out a knife and stabbed it heavily into the wooden board before the camera, declaring to all: “Excellent. I think so too. This lady—is guilty!”
He adjusted the camera to focus as much as possible on the woman’s face, then produced some truly chilling tools.
Those bloody tweezers and scalpels—tools meant for saving lives on an operating table—were about to become instruments of torture in the man’s hands, catering to the perverse demands of the dark web audience as he began his cruel work.
In that moment, the darkness in people’s hearts was twisted in the name of justice, transmitted through the wires, and gathered as Dark Magic Power inside the man.
The sensation was sweet as wine, utterly addictive.
The man squinted in pleasure, savoring the moment.
‘Irina, you really are a genius.’