Chapter Eighty-Three: Remember to Have Him Light My Cigarette

In truth, the shattering of the light barrier was indeed as simple as Su Jiuming had imagined.

But it wasn’t because Du Fang merely glared at it. In fact, it wasn’t even Du Fang who broke it—it was Luoluo.

Luoluo raised a finger and lightly tapped the black barrier that enveloped the entire hospital. Instantly, the barrier shuddered, then opened up into a wide, circular gap.

“What a lovely laugh. Luoluo is going to find a playmate now,” she said cheerfully.

Perched quietly and elegantly on Du Fang’s shoulder was the Hand of the Wife, holding Luoluo’s hand. Watching Luoluo’s jubilant expression, Du Fang could only sigh helplessly.

For Luoluo’s sake, he had no choice but to disrupt Captain Zhang’s arrangements.

Captain Zhang had instructed everyone to wait outside, but now, that was clearly impossible.

With such a gaping hole in the barrier before Luoluo, it would feel wrong not to enter.

So, Du Fang offered Su Jiuming an apologetic smile from afar. “Brother Su, I’ll go in first. I just want to take a look and see if I can assist Captain Zhang.”

Su Jiuming watched, expression wooden and his smile stiff.

As long as you’re happy.

If you can open the barrier so effortlessly, why even bother consulting me?

Du Fang, with Luoluo in tow, stepped into the barrier, which instantly sealed itself behind them.

Su Jiuming approached the barrier, tentatively reaching out a finger to touch it.

Bang!

A powerful rebound flung his finger back.

His expression grew grave. “This power… Anyone below a High Dreamwalker shouldn’t even think about breaking through this barrier!”

“How did Du Fang manage it?”

He drew a deep breath.

Without employing the monster within him, he had no chance of breaking the barrier.

Su Jiuming took several steps back.

“Everyone, move out—seal off the area and secure the scene. Be ready to provide support at any moment. Chen Xi, prepare your medical kit. If any wounded emerge, treat them immediately.”

With Zhang Changlin absent, Su Jiuming naturally assumed command.

Chen Xi, Si Nan, Zhao Lu, and the assistant all acknowledged the orders and sprang into action.

Above, the black sky continued to pour rain. The tense atmosphere pressed down like a storm cloud, stifling every breath.

...

Ruined, decayed, and damp...

Zhang Changlin strode through the hospital corridor. Flames burned beneath his feet, surging over his entire body. His heart pounded fiercely, pumping energy through him and making him appear as a living blaze.

His eyes, marked with the pattern of a phoenix’s tail, glowed like twin suns.

“A man-made dream calamity…”

“It blankets the entire hospital, treating thousands of lives as nothing.”

He gripped his broken blade, stalking through the corridors, his whole being simmering with suppressed rage.

For such scum, Zhang Changlin had only one thought: kill them.

“I must find a way to break the dream calamity and reach the hospital tower.”

“Sun Yaohai and the mastermind are battling atop the tower.”

He slowly closed his phoenix-flame eyes, the dream energy within him surging.

Without hesitation, he bit his finger and drew blood across the broken blade.

He was going to unseal it.

One layer, two layers...

After the second seal was released, a shadow burst forth from the blade.

“Find the node that breaks the dream calamity for me!” Zhang Changlin, his massive frame ablaze, spoke coldly.

The shadow froze.

Dog, you’ve changed! You actually dare to talk to it like this!

The shadow wanted to protest, to go on strike. Before, making it risk its life was one thing, but now, to be ordered about?

Zhang Changlin, you’re getting cocky!

Zhang Changlin glanced indifferently at the shadow. “I’m begging you.”

The shadow was speechless.

There was just no dealing with this fool.

It couldn’t be bothered to argue further. With a sudden surge, it drifted swiftly down the hospital corridor and vanished, clearly off to find the node of the dream calamity and help Zhang Changlin awaken.

Time slipped by, second by second.

About a minute passed.

Gripping his broken blade, Zhang Changlin’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

Boom!

The scene before him receded like a tide, as if waking from a dream.

Unbeknownst to him, he found himself standing in the hospital corridor.

A black shadow darted back and dove into the broken blade, evidently exhausted and unwilling to deal with Zhang Changlin any further.

Zhang Changlin smiled at his blade, then suddenly dashed up toward the hospital’s top floor.

...

Hospital rooftop.

The sudden downpour had left the rooftop flooded, a thick layer of rainwater pooling like a small pond.

Rain still poured from the sky, drumming the surface and sending ripples across the water.

The plague rat, thick as a mountain of flesh, rolled its crazed eyes in all directions.

Mirrors surrounded it on every side, reflecting its grotesque form.

Yet Sun Yaohai was nowhere to be seen—not only invisible, but gone even to the plague rat’s dream perception!

Impossible. How could he not be found?

Rage flickered in the plague rat’s eyes.

Suddenly, in one mirror, Sun Yaohai’s figure appeared behind the plague rat, his one arm wielding a mirror blade, stabbing down savagely.

Splurt!

Foul blood spattered as a wound opened on the plague rat’s mountainous body.

And the wound in the mirror was mirrored perfectly on the real plague rat!

Whoosh!

The plague rat lunged, smashing that mirror with overwhelming force, shattering it into fragments.

“You’re the real rat—hiding in mirrors, cowering!” it roared. “Come out!”

One mirror, then another, then a third...

In three mirrors in succession, Sun Yaohai appeared, swinging his mirror blade, each strike landing on the mirrored plague rat, sending gouts of reeking blood to pollute the glass.

In reality, the plague rat’s body split open with wounds, growing more twisted and terrifying by the moment.

Its aura grew increasingly frenzied.

A rat’s tail lashed out behind it, shattering the air with each crack!

One mirror after another shattered, only to be replaced as new mirrors reformed instantly.

“You think hiding in mirrors makes you immortal?” the plague rat sneered, its voice cold and mocking as its bead-like red eyes darted about, hunting for Sun Yaohai’s true body.

“Come on, I’m waiting!” it taunted, but every mirror remained silent—no answer, as if the rat were performing a monologue.

But the plague rat was patient, waiting for Sun Yaohai’s next move. The moment Sun Yaohai acted, he was certain he’d find the real body.

Who knows how much time passed.

Rain trickled endlessly across the rooftop.

Suddenly, the plague rat’s eyes flashed sharply.

For in the mirrors, Sun Yaohai appeared again.

But this time, not in one mirror—

In every single mirror.

Countless one-armed Sun Yaohai, mirror blades raised, bloodied cigarettes between their lips, all sneering, “I was waiting for my big move—what are you waiting for?”

As he finished, every mirror blade slashed down.

Splat, splat, splat!

In an instant, the plague rat felt as though his body was being torn to pieces.

Agonized screams burst from his lips.

Blood sprayed, flesh flew.

Boom!

Within the plague rat, a dreadful energy erupted, like a storm on the verge of total awakening—a demon from hell clawing its way into the human world.

Crash!

Every mirror spiderwebbed with cracks, then shattered completely.

Amidst countless shards...

A pair of black shoes splashed through the puddles.

Then Sun Yaohai appeared—hair drenched, cigarette bloodied and sodden—emerging within the rain-swept fragments of mirror.

“I have no wish to be a hero. But as a Dreamwalker, it’s my duty to save lives and guide dreams.”

“I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do,” Sun Yaohai sneered around his cigarette, answering the plague rat’s earlier words.

He raised his hand, swung the blade.

With one clean stroke, he slit the plague rat’s throat.

In the rain-soaked night, the blade reflected in the mirrors shone with a light that was both gentle and sharp, severing the grotesque, masked head from the rat’s mountain of flesh.

...

Guided by Luoluo, Du Fang made his way to the rooftop.

He gently pushed open the door.

The thick, acrid stench of blood, mixed with rain-soaked air, rushed into his nose and mouth, making him uncomfortable.

He frowned, holding the now-quiet Luoluo’s hand—her lips pulled into an exaggerated smile—as they stepped onto the rooftop. The rainwater soaked his sneakers and socks in an instant, leaving everything clammy and unpleasant.

Du Fang scanned the rooftop. Everywhere, pieces of stinking flesh littered the ground. A hideous, grotesque head lay on the floor, rain soaking it and black blood turning the water murky.

It was the plague rat’s head, its eyes still wide with malice.

“So it’s you...” a weak voice called out.

Du Fang turned and saw, slumped alone against the wall under the downpour, a figure missing an arm, nearly losing the bloodied cigarette between his lips.

A little haggard, a little world-weary.

Sun Yaohai looked at Du Fang, surprised that he was the first to arrive.

“You’re the new recruit from Wildfire, aren’t you?” Sun Yaohai said, coughing violently, spattering black blood across his white shirt.

“I’ll call for help…” Du Fang began.

“No need—there’s no time,” Sun Yaohai replied.

“At least let me try,” Du Fang insisted.

“It’s no use. I’m dying anyway. Don’t trouble yourself—let me sit quietly for a bit.”

“Alright.”

“If you’re here, then Zhang Changlin must be close.”

“Captain Zhang is on his way.”

“Good. I have a request.”

“Go ahead.”

Du Fang noticed a flicker of light in Sun Yaohai’s weary eyes at the mention of Captain Zhang.

“Tell Zhang Changlin...”

“Don’t think I’m really weaker than him. This time, I single-handedly took down one of the Zodiac Guardians from the Divine Core Organization. I saved thousands in this hospital. What’s Zhang Changlin compared to that? Don’t let him act all high and mighty just because he came from the capital!”

“He’s just a Silver Squad Captain! I, Sun Yaohai, am a Gold-tier Assault Team Captain... cough, cough...”

“I’m better than him!”

Leaning against the wall, black blood streaming, Sun Yaohai’s voice grew weaker and weaker.

By the end, he wasn’t really speaking to Du Fang, but talking to himself.

His eyes glazed over, his head drooping.

Du Fang watched, clenching his fists.

Here was a Dreamwalker who had guarded the entire hospital with his life—a Dreamwalker worthy of respect.

As he looked at the dying Sun Yaohai, Du Fang, for the first time, understood what it meant to be a Dreamwalker, and the responsibility and duty that came with it.

Sun Yaohai’s head drooped, his hair falling in strands. He parted his lips, his voice barely a whisper.

“Tell Zhang Changlin... when he gets here…”

“Remember… have him… light a cigarette for me…”

And with those final words, his head bowed, his body slumped completely.

The bloodied, rain-soaked cigarette fell from his lips, drifting on the water like a single leaf.

Sun Yaohai was dead.

The rain kept pouring.

Du Fang stared blankly at Sun Yaohai’s body. Upon his chest, the gold badge of the Gold-tier Assault Team gleamed brightly in the darkness—so dazzling.

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