Chapter 3

He had never seen neon lights before, so when he looked up and saw the words “Red Light District” enveloped in neon, a strange feeling welled up in his heart.

The Red Light District—this building’s name. The three characters flickered with a bewitching light all around them, bursting with dazzling brilliance even in the daytime, but no matter how he looked at it, this place did not seem like anywhere good.

“Let’s go, get in there.” Wang Wudao urged, while pushing Horne once.

Horne nearly dry-heaved.

As soon as he stepped into the first-floor lobby, the clamor inside came flooding over him—people crying, people screaming, the rapid whir of spinning dice, the clatter of falling coins, all weaving together into a cacophony. The dizzying haze of alcohol, the thick fumes of terpenes, red walls, red tables, red ceilings; this mess swirled and churned in Horne’s mind.

He had not taken two steps when a figure rushed out, half-naked, crashing straight into Horne. Horne grunted dully, his hand immediately going to his shoulder—the spot that had been shot earlier by the recon drone.

That figure stumbled away as he ran, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Humanity’s done for! Done for!!”

He had not run two steps before two people chased after him from behind, grabbing the half-naked man and kicking him in the knee. A shrill scream rang out as the man knelt down, then he was dragged back. His calf bent at an extremely unnatural angle, his heel dragging two meters across the ground before completely coming off.

As they hauled him away, the man shouted, “I have no money left, no money! Save me!”

Occasionally, someone turned to see what was happening, but everything was commonplace.

“What a sinner, another one who lost and tried to run.” Wang Wudao did not spare it a single extra glance. Seeing a staff member pass by, he immediately grabbed them. “Hey, Ye Shu? Call her out, say Wang Wudao’s looking for her.”

The staff member glanced at the newcomers and froze for a moment, but still said respectfully, “Alright, please wait a moment.”

This place gathered casinos, bars, arenas, game halls, and the Red Light District.

Everywhere he looked, people spoke in exaggerated tones—either fierce grief or unrestrained ecstasy—as if this was a dark corner of the apocalypse where one’s true self could be unleashed.

Stepping through this door meant voluntarily abandoning most of human society’s legal restraints. But none of that mattered right now; what mattered was that Horne felt like he was about to faint, everything before his eyes slowly doubling in his vision.

Before long, a woman with yellow skin and brown eyes walked out, looking to be in her forties. She walked slowly, her steps unhurried, each one precisely placed to deftly avoid the recklessly colliding crowd, swaying slowly up to Wang Wudao.

As soon as she opened her mouth, her voice carried a feigned sweetness that clogged the chest. “Oh? Who’s this? It’s been so long, and you haven’t come to see me. Have I gotten old? Not to your liking anymore?”

The pungent smell of cigarette smoke and perfume lingered. Horne had just taken a step back when Wang Wudao grabbed him.

Wang Wudao irritably waved his hand. “Bah, aren’t we here now? Look at the fine goods I’ve brought you?”

Wang Wudao pushed Horne forward.

Horne stared expressionlessly at the woman before him, watching her long eyelashes droop lightly, a glint like a crocodile’s pupil flashing in her eyes.

“Oh?” Ye Shu looked Horne up and down from head to toe, the probing in her eyes gradually turning into a hint of amusement. She slowly circled around Horne, tilting her head back slightly and blowing teasingly at the hair dangling over his forehead, chuckling softly. “Wow, no expression at all? So cool? Handsome, what’s your name?”

Horne answered coldly and stiffly, “Horne.”

Ye Shu straightened up, nodding in satisfaction, and said to Wang Wudao, “This young hunk’s not bad. Where’d you scam him from? The guests love dragging a high mountain flower like this to bed and bullying him. It’ll definitely be a thrill.”

Hearing this, Horne finally understood what Wang Wudao meant by his “conditions.”

He seemed to have been sold.

Wang Wudao pulled a filter tip and some tobacco from the pockets of his heavily patched pants, makeshift-rolling a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. Amid the swirling smoke, he said impatiently, “You said it yourself it’s scammed, so who cares where I scammed him from.”

The gray smoke converged into a poisonous serpent coiling in the air. Ye Shu waved her hands rapidly left and right, her tone turning harsh. “Don’t smoke that cheap crap in front of me!”

Wang Wudao pursed his lips helplessly, snuffing out the just-lit cigarette.

Ye Shu stood before Horne, scrutinizing his face carefully. Soon, her tone grew flat again, and she showed disgust. “Handsome, why’s your face like this? Haven’t eaten? Looks weak as a kitten—what if he dies on me?”

Wang Wudao scoffed. “How many have died in your place? Cut the crap—fifty thousand.”

Ye Shu eyed Horne several times more, then quickly held up five fingers. “Five thousand.”

“Thirty thousand!”

“Five thousand.”

Wang Wudao spat. “Pah, five thousand it is, you cheapskate. Transfer the money.”

Ye Shu waved her hand, and someone came over immediately. She said lazily, “Give this stinky fish and rotten shrimp five thousand.”

“Got it, Miss Ye.”

No one asked the person involved for his opinion. Horne said nothing, ignoring the surrounding clamor as he pondered how to get food, water, and rest before leaving this place.

Wang Wudao patted Horne’s back, revealing a smirk, and whispered low, “Heh heh, kid, I didn’t trick you, did I? Look at that skin of yours—such a waste to be a bum. People here will fight over you, and weren’t you looking for the military? See, lots of military folks here. Most importantly, that guy I told you about—he comes here sometimes, but I’m warning you out of kindness, watch out for him…”

At this point, Ye Shu’s gaze alertly darted between their faces, interrupting him. “Hold on, who’re you talking about? Who’s looking for who?”

Wang Wudao glanced around, confirming no one was eavesdropping, then covered his mouth with his hand and whispered, “Who else? Your boss.”

A chill flashed in Ye Shu’s eyes, and she suddenly turned cold. “I told you to find me pitiful worms, not troublemakers.”

Wang Wudao did not care at all. He glanced at Horne again and said disdainfully, pointing at him, “Trouble or not, would Hels even glance at him?”

Ye Shu figured he had a point.

Through the glass doors, Horne saw his own appearance.

He saw his face clearly.

A stranger’s face clung seamlessly to his original features, without any anomaly.

This made him extremely uncomfortable. He touched his chin and had just peeled up one corner when Ye Shu’s startled cry came from beside him. “What are you doing!”

Ye Shu frantically slapped at Horne’s face, making him put the mask back on. Only then did she pat her chest with lingering fear. “You can’t take this thing off! How did you…”

Before she finished speaking, a horrific scream exploded throughout the Red Light District.

“Ah—help!”

The voice was piercingly shrill, like nails scraping glass. Instantly, many gazes in the Red Light District turned toward the sound.

A little girl, about fifteen or sixteen years old, was dangled in midair by a man gripping the back of her collar. She cried for help loudly, her hands flailing in the air but grasping nothing.

“Help! Put me down, I’ll pay you back!” The little girl screamed hoarsely, her neck choked by her collar, making her face flush red and her eyes bulge.

Horne frowned.

A man walked to the arena area, stepping up onto the platform in one stride, hoisting the little girl high overhead without a shred of mercy, just wanting everyone there to see. He laughed twice. “Finally caught this thief. Always pulling little tricks to distract people, then swiping valuables the next instant. So young and coming here to steal—brothers, anyone want to fight in the arena? Winner takes the thief.”

The people below stirred restlessly, whispering among themselves. Horne could not make out what they said, but the little girl’s shrill screams grew louder.

“Help—”

Ye Shu found it odd. “What’d this little miss come to my Red Light District for? No one stopped her?”

“Come on! Anyone want her? Come up if you do!” the man shouted.

Soon, someone below responded. “Coming!”

“This kid looks untouched still.”

Such things happened often. Once in the Red Light District, death was par for the course.

“Save me, save me—” The little girl screamed until she was nearly voiceless.

Suddenly, her gaze crossed the arena crowd from above, locking straight onto Horne at the entrance—as if calling louder might attract passersby, even someone just standing at the door, who seemed cleaner than those inside.

“Save me! Please save me!” Her voice was hoarse from shouting, but panic kept her from stopping. “Save me, save me, I don’t want to die!”

The instant her terrified eyes met Horne’s, the little girl shouted, “Big brother—”

Horne’s heart contracted violently, and his mind “buzzed” open.

Who?

Ye Shu wiped the sweat from her palms and sighed, her gaze drifting lightly away from the scene. “Whatever, let them have at it, got nothing to do with me. You, come…” Ye Shu had just turned her head when she realized her five thousand was gone.

Horne did not like such things happening right in front of him, even if they had nothing to do with him—he could not ignore it.

What was most precious in a person?

When he was young and the aliens had just arrived on Earth, his father told him it was freedom.

Later, when the aliens tried negotiating with humans, someone told him it was trust.

Even later, as he grew up fumbling on his own, he thought it was heart.

Horne stepped onto the arena. The man holding the little girl high frowned at his slender frame and cursed, “What the hell are you? Get up here, and one punch from me’ll leave you crippled for life.”

Horne looked at him indifferently, as if at a bug struggling on the brink of death.

He had fallen countless times, but no one had ever kept him from standing back up.

His stamina was waning, but dealing with ordinary people was more than enough; no risk of accidents. With that thought, Horne steadied himself through a wave of dizziness.

The man bared his mouth, revealing yellowed teeth, not bothering to bandy words with Horne, and turned elsewhere. “Anyone else!”

“Help! I was wrong, I won’t steal anymore, put me down!” The little girl sobbed loudly.

Ye Shu glared at Horne, who had somehow gotten onto the arena, then turned her neck toward Wang Wudao, fuming mad. She raised her voice sharply. “And you said he wasn’t trouble?”

Wang Wudaos expression was stunned; he had not expected things to develop this way. “Well, he’s the one seeking death, what can I do? Worst case, eat the five-thousand loss.”

Ye Shu’s mouth hung slightly open as she muttered “no way” several times, then immediately beckoned a nearby staff member and shrieked, “No way, no way! Quick, go call You Wenjie for me—I can’t take a straight five-thousand loss!”

There were no laws in the Red Light District. If one had to impose some rules artificially, those rules lay in the hands of the winners—winners by any means.

Winners at gambling, at fighting, at games. Of course, there were safe zones too: booth areas centered around a bar counter, where some just came to drink and watch the demonic revelry.

No laws, no morals—the filthiest, most chaotic spot in the human world, where the desperate could come to stake it all on life or death.

All this sin stemmed from a man named Hels.

Before Ye Shu flew into a complete rage, Wang Wudao slunk away.

In the end, seven or eight people of all sorts stood scattered on the arena. The little girl was tied to the edge of the platform, her hands and feet bound so she could not move a muscle, her terrified eyes darting among the men before finally fixing on the red-brown-haired one closest to her.

Horne’s expression was indifferent as he tilted his head slightly and said softly to the little girl, “Don’t be afraid.”

The gentle words from his mouth carried a hint of chill. The little girl’s eyes widened.

Horne took a deep breath, silently regarding the muscular brutes before him. In this situation, he began to wonder why he was standing there.

That “big brother” pierced the cracks in his memory, trying to burrow deep into his mind, but it tore not even a fraction before his head ached. He glanced at the little girl, unsure if this face was in his memories, but even if it was, it was now hidden under the mask.

He had thought it was a one-on-one arena match, but when everyone piled on, Horne sensed something was off.

A free-for-all.