If I stepped out to pull him, I’d have to face that cartoon mascot suit head-on.

That was like staring death in the face.

“What should I do?!”

Just then, the mascot turned its head and glanced at me—as if reading my thoughts. Those watercolor-painted eyes sent an icy chill straight to my core.

I’d die.

Stepping out meant certain death!

This was An Li’s personal vehicle. She must’ve left some protection on it—on the car or the doors—to keep the interior safe. But the moment I stepped outside? Torn to pieces.

That’s what those fake watercolor eyes screamed at me.

A flicker of guilt crossed my heart. I couldn’t bear to look at the little boy, so I shifted my gaze to the woman lying on the ground.

She’d been bleeding for a while. Her throat was silent. Only despair remained on her face—no pain.

A man came sprinting past, screaming. He wasn’t even watching his path—just running blindly, desperate to escape. Seeing his trajectory, the woman with the severed leg, though dying, mustered her last strength to clutch her injured limb, even as sand scraped the wound raw again.

Then, with a final heave, she dragged her unresponsive half-body two steps aside. The man, who would’ve tripped over her, only stepped in a puddle of murky blood and kept fleeing.

That act stung my eyes red.

Even in utter despair, in her final breath, her last act was to clear someone else’s path to survival.

Grind… grind…

My molars felt ready to shatter—the final clash between impulse and calm.

“Screw it—I’m saving him!”

In a blink, I was outside the car. My mind had gone blank; my body moved on its own.

My calves trembled slightly, then surged with hot blood. I didn’t know if vampires were cold- or warm-blooded—but right then, my heart hammered like a colossal pressure pump, forcing scalding blood through every vein.

Even flooding my brain.

The mascot stood between me and the boy. It had paused at the car door’s click. But I still had a chance: catch it off guard, sprint full-speed to him—even if I fell—scoop him up, and get back. Safe.

I stepped forward. The instant my foot landed, its arms twisted violently toward me. Without turning, its noodle-like limbs snapped 180 degrees, lunging straight for my chest.

Cold sweat soaked my back.

One touch—anywhere—and that part vanished.

My life with it!

In that life-or-death instant, hot blood flooded my mind again. Bloody words flashed before my eyes—

Bloodstrike Assault.

Power erupted from my back. Crimson bat wings unfurled, folded forward into a blood-tipped spear, and met the noodle arms head-on.

Shhk!

The blood-wings pierced its hands, speared through its arms and torso. Like a punctured inflatable, the suit instantly deflated with a hiss.

In under two seconds—just a torn, empty costume.

The wings vanished. Exhaustion washed over me—but exhilaration burned brighter.

So strong! I actually had combat power!

“Come on, little brother, get up! Follow your big brother—uh, big sister!”

I rushed to the boy. He was frozen in terror, sobbing toward his mother’s still form.

“Mommy… waaah… Mommy…”

“Stop crying! What if another comes?!” My voice cracked. “Please, just get up! Don’t call for Mom—I’ll call *you* Mom, okay?!”

I couldn’t tell him she was gone. Severed leg, massive blood loss, sand grinding the wound deeper…

Even with basic biology knowledge, I knew. No hope.

“Waaah, no! I want Mommy!”

He was too young to understand. Pure fear. Panicked, I fumbled in my pocket—fingers brushing something hard.

Will this work? Doesn’t matter. Try it.

“Shh… big sister’s giving you candy.”

His sobs softened as he stared at the Zhenweizi chocolate lollipop in my hand.

Ten seconds later, I pulled the lollipop-sucking boy back to the car. Several mascot figures lingered outside, leering a moment before slinking away.

“Sit quietly in back. Nap if you want. All the lollipops are yours,” I murmured, settling him in the rear before sliding into the front seat. “No tears now. Listen to big sister—more candy for you.”

He wiped his tears, silent.

I shook my head with a bitter smile. Bought these six lollipops for six yuan on a whim while grabbing eighty-yuan “social obligation” snacks… Why did the cheap candy work better?

What a messed-up world.