Humans always cling to luck. They think their filthy secrets will stay hidden. They think time will bury their sins under desert sands and erase them. They think they can dodge punishment. They think money and power fill every void. They think they sit above everything and can do whatever they want.
But they’re wrong... wildly wrong...
Mirror October savored those smug faces—their expressions when Saw appeared were pure gold. His spotless gloves tapped lightly, rhythmically on the cold ceramic bar. Standing just behind the spotlight’s shadow, his scarlet eyes swept the bar’s obscene sights, icy and merciless. This place, Red Apple, wasn’t a bar in the simple sense. It was a hub under a black syndicate’s hand.
After a short date with Little Beast, Mirror October donned his black coat with a blood-red lining again. He became Saw, the supercriminal who walked the edge of law and morality. Eyes like bleeding rubies hunted his prey—the brute at death’s door, still blind to his own sins.
In fact, calling Wu Jianguo a beast felt like insulting the word.
His penetrating gaze seemed to pierce the bar’s stacked darkness. He saw the dance floor’s soul-shaking heavy metal frenzy. He saw men and women thrashing their bodies, indulging hard. He saw drug deals in shadow. He saw naked bodies in private rooms, piston motions on the beds. Filthy. Foul. This was the black edge of society, a no-man’s land even Superhero would never notice, blocked for all kinds of reasons.
“I keep wondering why sin never runs out, why it can’t be wiped clean.” Mirror October stared at every stain and ugliness. His crystalline heart mirrored all that disgrace. He answered himself, the sarcasm at his lips deepening a bit. “Maybe it exists so justice can stand out. If there were no trace of evil, then the good that opposes it would lose meaning.”
But that is never an excuse for evil.
The crisp beat, sharper than the heavy metal, cut off. A group strode in, swagger in every step, and the bar stared. Mirror October’s pupils, redder than blood itself, tightened a little. His eyes narrowed.
I can see you, while you know nothing about me...
I can hear the innocent souls crying from your hands...!
I can see the sins that won’t wash off your body!
This is... an outrageously hateful stench.
Wu Jianguo wore a floral shirt. He had a heavy frame and a shaved head. His smile looked like a jolly Buddha’s. The joke? He toyed with a string of precious jade prayer beads. His crafty eyes scanned the bar’s lightless corners like a starving wolf spotting a bloody bone.
“Boss!”
The bar’s security didn’t dare meet his gaze. Heads bowed, one after another. They knew how changeable their boss, Wu Jianguo, could be. A tycoon who colluded with both sides of the law, with blood on his hands. Here, he was a local tyrant. He had a protective umbrella above him. Who could touch him?
With money, you really can do whatever you want.
“Boss, everything’s set. A high-school girl, looks innocent. Her parents are just ordinary office workers, no connections. Even if you ruin her, we’ll clean it up, and no one will know. She’s waiting in the inner room.”
The henchman’s fawning smile said it all. He knew the boss’s taste—preying on schoolgirls. He finally had a chance to flatter him. If Boss Wu promoted him, life would be sweet.
“Mm. Not bad.” Wu Jianguo nodded, satisfied. He liked watching victims break down and sob under him.
When he got bored, he’d throw her to his men to handle.
Money could make anything go away. If some nobody didn’t know his place—heh—did they think he ran a charity? He’d woven his umbrella for years, even tying it to certain Superhero. If a powerless nobody annoyed him, he’d tear their home apart.
Wu Jianguo lit a cigarette. He waved impatiently, telling the flunkies behind him not to follow. He wasn’t like those big shots who liked group scenes and palace games. He was a nouveau riche with a bit of cunning, willing to spend to protect himself.
The world had gotten messier these years. The rise of Superhero had almost made him slip. Good thing he seized a chance and boarded a big player’s ship. That’s how he enjoyed his days as a local tyrant.
But the recent incident left a tremor in his heart—like a great axe hanging over his head, ready to drop and take his life. It was just a mining accident. To cover certain dirty tails, he delayed rescue. He threatened the families who came to raise hell, sending them away. Yet that vague unease only grew stronger as time passed.
Worse, after the late-arriving recovery team dug up the remains, Wu Jianguo couldn’t sleep day or night. He’d survived this long by trusting such instincts, dodging disaster again and again.
“Damn it. Maybe I’m just overworked. Why does this keep feeling off? ...Forget it. I’ll find time to ask that big shot for a protective boon.” He cursed, venting the pressure inside. He dragged a heavy breath of smoke into his lungs, savoring nicotine’s dizzy comfort.
He remembered the innocent-looking girl waiting in the inner room, and his lust surged hotter. He quickened his pace toward the end of the hall. When a man’s in a foul mood, venting it on a woman in bed is the best outlet. He couldn’t recall who said it, but he treated it like gospel.
He reached his private room and pushed the door open. A trace of something eerie fell over him.
The first thing he saw—
was a mask smiling with a chill that crawled under the skin. A pale face painted with blood-red marks. High cheekbones circled in mocking red rings. Eyes that seemed to see everything, cold and scornful. A mouth curled into a crimson grin. Under that gaze alone, Wu Jianguo felt his body seize with terror, out of his control.
That slender figure rose slowly. The mask’s menace deepened.
