novelraw Chapter 405 - 389: Threads of Destiny Interwoven Within Me
Chapter 405 - 389: Threads of Destiny Interwoven Within Me
The members of parliament did not respond to Wang Xinfa, appearing neither to agree nor to refute.
They just collectively and silently watched Zhang Deming close the window again, and the noise outside suddenly became inaudible.
Ten minutes later, the door of the meeting room was pushed open from inside.
Wang Xinfa was the first to leave, with Zhang Deming, despite his age, following closely behind with steady steps. Some other members of parliament were a few steps behind, while others took out their phones to compose and send messages.
At the stairway corner, Zhang Deming invited Wang Xinfa with a beaming smile:
"Mr. Wang, if you have no plans for lunch, why not join me for a meal?"
Wang Xinfa felt the buzzing vibration of his phone in his pocket, and a perfectly timed smile appeared on his face:
"Mr. Zhang, you are too kind. I actually have matters I wish to discuss with you in detail."
Inside the meeting room, the Chief Member sat quietly in the main seat, his gaze coldly sweeping over the empty round table.
Sunlight slanted in through the bulletproof glass, stretching his shadow long, like some sort of lurking monster.
He habitually rubbed the ring on his finger, the movement unusually slow, the black gemstone on the ring glistening with a cold light in the sun, as if an eye hidden inside was observing the human world.
Suddenly, his usually unflappable face seemed to be torn open by some invisible force, forcibly cracking into a smile.
The smile was extremely bizarre—only one side of his cheek was moving, the corner of his mouth slowly rising, revealing a few stiff arcs, while the other half of his face was expressionless, like an unyielding plaster.
"Truly... so interesting," he murmured softly, unconsciously licking his moist lips.
......
The vehicle was heading toward the Eighth Academy, passing in front of the Executive Government on the road.
In front of the Executive Government, streets were crowded with hundreds of bereaved families of the deceased prison guards.
They held aloft black-and-white photos, the smiling faces on the photographs frozen quietly in past times, contrasting sharply with the cries and wails before them.
Paper money floated through the air, the white fragments like snow whirling in the wind, covering the ground.
The air was thick with the scent of incense; the burning smoke twisted into elusive shadows in the "sunlight".
An elderly woman with white hair knelt on the ground, her knees covered in dust, clutching her son’s portrait tightly to her chest.
Her fingers trembled slightly from excessive force, her eyes overflowing with uncontainable sorrow.
"My son was only twenty-five! He had just married, and his wife is expecting a child..."
Her voice was hoarse, tears flowing down her wrinkled face,
"The warden killed him, you must give me an explanation!"
A little girl was held in her mother’s arms, clutching her father’s badge:
"Daddy promised to take me to catch the dolls..."
Her crying was sharp and piercing, "Give me back my Daddy!"
Some young people held banners, which read, "Punish the murderer, give us justice."
They chanted slogans loudly, their voices deafening: "Warden resign! Qian Huan is the executioner."
Feng Mu glanced slightly sideways, his gaze through the car window fell on the distant crowd mixed with cries and angry curses.
He remained silent for a moment and slowly rolled up the car window, isolating the external noise.
He was soft-hearted and could hardly bear such a scene.
Especially since those who died were considered his colleagues, even if he had barely spoken a word to the vast majority of them during their lifetimes.
Yet, despite this, he sincerely harbored feelings for the majority of them—a complex and secretive sentiment.
Because a part of them had already, in ways beyond secular comprehension, permanently merged into him, extended into the span of his life, and permeated his bones.
Storage of Life Essence: 1177 days
[Nine Nether Evil Iron (Edibility 17.1 /100%, Reserve 1.3%.)]
Their relatives could not see it, but Feng Mu’s retinas saw it clearly.
In just a few days, [Calamity Iron] that had been continuously indigestible within Feng Mu’s body began to rapidly digest, being decomposed at an astonishing rate.
5.1% was digested on the first day, 4.4% on the second day, 3.9% on the third day.
The rate decreased daily, but even now it remained remarkable, several times faster than the original digestive rate.
If he could maintain this digestion rate, would the day of unlocking the inheritance of [Calamity Iron] be far off?
Feng Mu reflected deeply, his feelings for his colleagues growing increasingly profound.
"They didn’t die because of me, but I still feel very sorry, however..."
Feng Mu closed his eyes and silently made a promise to the families of the deceased in his heart,
"I will properly digest their lives, and as for those who killed them, I assure you they will reunite with your husbands, fathers, or sons within me on some day in the future..."
So, the question arises, who exactly is the true culprit? Is it those already dead inmates, the warden Qian Huan whom they accuse, or possibly Zhou Hu, Zhao Xing, or some more deeply hidden big figures behind the scene, or perhaps it’s actually.....??
Who knows?
Regarding the culprit, perhaps everyone has their own answer in their hearts!
In that moment, Feng Mu suddenly realized:
"My body no longer belongs solely to me; within my body are countless resentful energies of the departed, silently intertwining the threads of Destiny!"
[Your thoughts are secretly evolving.]
[[Your Sin Index has increased by one point↑]
[Your Game Inheritance Level has increased↑]
A considerate prompt flashed across his retina; although the increase was small, it was enough to show that the system acknowledged his realization, that each advancement in Feng Mu’s mindset followed the right path.
The scenery outside the window sped past, trees and buildings by the roadside flashed by, and there was still a half-hour journey to the Eighth Academy.
Feng Mu, filled with complex realizations, suddenly decided to take this moment to open a mystery box—the lottery tickets saved from previous rewards.
Prior, there was never enough gold to unlock an equipment slot, but after befriending Li Shang that day, it happened.
Don’t ask where all this gold came from; just know that he and Li Shang both had a mutual close friend.
The only regret was that after silently saving up these days, the lottery tickets did not secretly ferment and upgrade themselves, and a D-level lottery ticket remained a D-level lottery ticket.
It’s somewhat disappointing.
[D-level lottery ticket detected, would you like to draw?]
[Draw!]
A virtual roulette appeared on his retina, spinning rapidly, the colorful hues flickering before his eyes like countless dancing stars, dazzling and mesmerizing.
In his mind, the information on the probability of winning emerged like a phantom:
[D-level lottery ticket, 20% probability of winning E-level equipment, 50% probability of winning D-level equipment, 20% probability of winning C-level equipment, 9% probability of winning B-level equipment, 0.9% probability of winning A-level equipment, 0.1% probability of winning S-level equipment.]
Feng Mu silently prayed in his heart: "The moment of Destiny’s favor has arrived, give me an S-level!!!"
The speed of the roulette gradually slowed, the pointer sliding past a colorful option, Feng Mu’s heart undulating with it, as if each pass was teasing his frazzled nerves.
Time seemed to stretch out.
Seven seconds of fourteen circles of rotation, like a lengthy trial of Destiny, Feng Mu could almost hear his heartbeat echoing like a drum, pounding away.
Finally—
The pointer began to slow, the speed gradually decreasing, and wavered to a stop at...