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Chapter 35: Unlocking
His plan was simple: use his newfound ability to unlock the locks on Lin Song’s body.
“Can you guarantee...”
“No, Old Liu.” Li Xingyuan cut him off with a shake of his head. “I can’t guarantee anything. He might survive, he might die, or he might… end up like me. I don’t know what will happen.”
If unlocking the keyholes on his own body had allowed him to survive, perhaps the same could work for Lin Song. It was worth a try. Whether this impulse stemmed from genuine hope or the insistent pull of a key yearning for its lock was something even Li Xingyuan couldn’t discern.
Old Liu stared at him, emotions churning in his dark eyes. Then, exhaling deeply, he said wearily, “Let’s give it a shot.”
“If I fail, what will you do?” Li Xingyuan met Old Liu’s gaze, unflinching. Beating around the bush wouldn’t help. He needed assurances—if he didn’t get them, he wouldn’t risk such a dangerous attempt.
“Nothing,” Old Liu replied, rubbing his temples. “Without your intervention, he’ll die anyway. I understand that, Mr. Li.”
Li Xingyuan nodded. He trusted Old Liu.
When Li Xingyuan turned his attention to Lin Song, he saw countless keyholes drifting across the young man’s body. Ignoring the smaller ones, his focus landed on two prominent locks—one over the heart, the other centered squarely on the forehead. Both were closed. The one on Lin Song’s forehead occasionally emitted faint flashes of light, while the one on his chest pulsed rhythmically.
Li Xingyuan flexed his fingers, their tips brushing together with a sharp metallic clink. In his vision, his fingers morphed into spinning keys, eager and restless. Glancing at Old Liu, he noticed the older man watching him curiously. “What?”
Apparently, only he could see the transformation of his own hands.
“Nothing,” Li Xingyuan muttered, shaking his head as he studied his fingers.
His right index finger didn’t ache—it simply changed shape, resembling a bone-like key whose teeth shifted constantly. It hungered to fulfill its purpose. Every key longs to unlock; every lock waits to be opened.
A choice had to be made. Lin Song’s breathing grew weaker by the second. Li Xingyuan extended his finger toward the lock above Lin Song’s heart.
The gears within clicked softly against the grooves of the key as Lin Song’s body arched slightly. Through his fingertip, Li Xingyuan felt a delicate chill—the mechanisms here were fragile. Carefully, he twisted his finger, afraid of damaging the lock. A faint click-click echoed, accompanied by an eerie stillness. Lin Song’s eyes fluttered open—but they were devoid of life, like those of an empty shell.
“Lin Song?” Old Liu stepped forward, concern etched into his face as he watched his young comrade.
The key hadn’t fully turned yet. Li Xingyuan continued rotating his finger gently. Lin Song gasped for air, but his eyes remained vacant. His body began convulsing violently, like a wind-up puppet thrashing about without direction.
“Mr. Li!” Old Liu placed a hand on Li Xingyuan’s shoulder. “That’s enough. Let go.”
The key reached its final position. As Li Xingyuan withdrew his finger from the lock above Lin Song’s heart, the young man’s body shuddered violently. Sweat poured from his skin, and he writhed on the ground like a dying fish. Finally, he rolled onto his knees, letting out a guttural cry of pain.
Old Liu drew his gun—not aiming at Li Xingyuan, but at Lin Song.
Li Xingyuan watched nervously, unsure of what would happen next. His finger tingled with satisfaction from unlocking the mechanism, yet it already craved the next challenge.
After nearly fifteen minutes of spasms, Lin Song’s convulsions subsided. Breathing heavily, his forehead pressed against the snow, he raised his head and looked at Li Xingyuan and Old Liu. Clarity returned to his eyes. “Mr. Li, Old Liu… what happened? And Mr. Li—where are your clothes?”
Old Liu hauled Lin Song to his feet and pulled him into a warm embrace. Lin Song accepted the gesture awkwardly, still confused about the situation. “The fire… did we succeed? What happened to the monsters?”
“It was you,” Li Xingyuan said. “You blew up the gas station. The creatures chased after the flames and burned to death. As for my clothes…” He gestured vaguely. “They got burned. Couldn’t wear them anymore, so I stripped them off.”
Lin Song stared at Li Xingyuan’s eyes. “Mr. Li… your eyes are…”
“I have no idea either,” Li Xingyuan chuckled. “I died once, came back, and now I’m like this. Seems like you’ve had a similar experience.”
Li Xingyuan truly felt joy—for the first time since discovering his strange abilities, he didn’t view them as a curse. They were merely scars left behind from that fateful accident at No. 1 Residential Community, reminders of trauma that throbbed painfully before storms. Was that really something to boast about? No, these were wounds, marks, proof of suffering—and nothing more.
But now, he’d saved someone using his powers. How could he not feel elated?
Perhaps not everything happening to him was bad. What if his abilities could also help with genetic diseases?
Old Liu shared his relief. Though usually reserved, even he wasn’t shy about expressing emotion in moments like this.
“I died?” Lin Song sounded astonished.
“Almost,” Old Liu slapped Lin Song’s shoulder firmly. “Mr. Li saved you.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Li Xingyuan waved dismissively. “You’re just lucky. Now that everyone’s okay, let’s get moving. Jiangcheng isn’t far.”
Neither Old Liu nor Lin Song objected. But as Lin Song turned around, Li Xingyuan caught sight of something alarming—a patch of bruise-like purple discoloration where Old Liu had hugged him tightly. Lin Song’s skin was deathly pale, almost corpse-like.
The smile faded from Li Xingyuan’s face.
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