"Damn it," Fang Rui muttered as he gritted his teeth.
"Just... get home first. Then figure out what the hell these floating notifications mean. Why are they kept popping, anyway? And for fuck's sake—don't you dare collapse now, you useless piece of shit."
The more he took the next step… each step sent fresh waves of agony through his battered body.
"Argghh!" He leaned heavily against the alley wall as he dragged himself forward, his fingers leaving smears of blood on the damp brick.
Around him, he saw no people,
The alley was eerily quiet despite the daylight.
No bustling crowds, no curious onlookers—just the ragged sound of his own breathing echoing off the narrow walls.
Beneath him,
The ground was still telling the story of his humiliation. He saw scuff marks from the Lu brothers' boots, and the indifferent footprints of passersby who had stepped over him like garbage. And his own blood, still dripping from his split lip, stained the wet ground.
[Devoured Emotion: Pity (Chen Jian) – Obtained 1 Emotion Point.]
'Again? Who?' Fang Rui's brow furrowed.
'Chen Jian??'
He was now fully aware that the so-called system seemed to react whenever someone felt something toward him—pity, disdain, whatever.
He looked with his gaze, scanning the alley, searching for the source of the emotion, but he saw no one.
Then—
Just as he reached the mouth of the alley, a concerned voice cut through the silence.
"Sigh. Boy... do you need help?"
Fang Rui lifted his head, only to see a figure standing before him, silhouetted against the daylight. An older man was leaning on a walking stick, as his face was lined with visible concern.
Even through his blurred vision, Fang Rui still recognized the old man. Mr. Chen. That's right, the old man was Mr. Chen, who always wandered these streets, stick in hand, observing the world with quiet detachment.
As for the old man's background? Fang Rui didn't know anything about it, but he was sure that it was not that simple.
But he cared little about it.
Fang Rui just shook his head and did a stiff bow.
"I'm fine," he replied.
"But... thank you."
With that, he began to move away slowly. Did Fang Rui need help? Absolutely. But would he ask for help? Absolutely not.
[Devoured Emotion: Respect (Chen Jian) – Obtained 1 Emotion Point.]
The notification flickered before his eyes. Fang Rui exhaled sharply.
Respect?
That was new. In all his years of being kicked around, no one had ever genuinely asked if he was okay. 'How interesting'
Meanwhile, Mr. Chen just watched him for a moment, his gaze heavy with something unreadable.
"What a pitiful sight," the old man murmured, more to himself than to Fang Rui.
"Don't die just yet, boy. If you survive... you might still have a future. They say only those with strong wills can move forward in this world… But…" He sighed, adjusting his grip on his stick.
"But without talent and opportunity... how far can willpower alone take you?"
A bitter chuckle escaped him. "Ah, another fallen genius. This era is drowning in prodigies, and the world keeps shifting beneath our feet. I wonder if these old bones will last long enough to see where it all leads..."
For a moment longer, Mr. Chen stood there, his eyes locking Fang Rui's stumbling form until... the younger man disappeared around the corner.
"I couldn't help your son, my friend. I hope you won't blame me, as I have my own reasons." Regret flashed in his eyes, and with another quiet sigh, he turned and limped away, his stick tapping softly against the pavement like a fading heartbeat.
***
The sun climbed higher, a silent spectator to the world below,
Its golden gaze bathed the streets in indifferent light as life carried on with normalcy—merchants hawking their wares with practiced smiles, while children darted between stalls with laughter like a curious puppy, and the scent of roasted chestnuts curled through the air.
And there, amidst the lively vibe, a lone shadow staggered forward.
Battered and broken.
Fang Rui finally emerged from the alley's gloom, each step felt like a rebellion against gravity's cruel pull.
The pain was everywhere, like an omnipresent — it was a familiar companion he'd learned to wear like a second skin.
'Well, what is a man without suffering?' The thought slithered through his mind.
'To endure is to exist. To bleed is to prove you still draw breath.'
His cracked lips twisted in a humorless smile.
'I don't curse the pain. I don't even curse this wretched world. Only the hypocrites who infest it like maggots on rotting flesh.'
He then looked around, only to see the marketplace erupt around him in a cacophony of color and sound—a pantomime of normalcy that made his teeth ache.
Vendors barked prices with voices sharp as cleavers, while customers haggled with the fervor of holy warriors.
Moreover, children could be seen playing around, while parents looked from afar with a bright smile.
"Hehe"
A child shrieked with happiness. Her sticky fingers clutching a sugar-dusted pastry as its sweetness dripped between tiny fingers like golden liquid.
The mingled scents of spices and sweetness hung in the air, which was... enough to choke a starving man to madness.
Seeing this, Fang Rui's throat constricted as his stomach began to rumble.
'What the absolute fucking nonsense is this?' he cursed inwardly.
Every smile he saw felt like a brand searing his flesh.
Every burst of laughter was a lash against his ribs.
The happiness around him was stirring something ugly in his chest, like a corrosive jealousy as he recalled his parents' faces. Even now, he could hear echoes of their voices: his mother's gentle hum as she braided his hair, his father's booming laugh as he lifted him onto broad shoulders.
He tried to smile, but his mouth betrayed him, twisting instead into a grimace as he forced himself onward.
He was neither happy nor sad. He was just angry at some point.
The crowd parted around him like water around a stone. Furtive glances came his way, faces flashing with pity, disgust, and disdain before quickly looking away. He felt their judgmental gazes—as if mere proximity to his tainted existence might corrupt them too.
To these people, Fang Rui was more than an outcast; he was a living cautionary tale, a walking reminder of… total disgrace.
Who could blame them? The rumors had spread like wildfire after his banishment from the Niyanta Harmony Sect. The official story was damning enough, but the whispered and rumours exaggerated even more.
As he was making his way forward, the whispers were also following him like hungry ghosts as he devoured their emotions one by one.
Then—
A rock came flying.
Thud.
Fang Rui, already in a weakened state, didn't—couldn't—dodge in time. The stone struck his temple with a dull thud, sending a fresh trickle of blood streaking down his brow.
"Demon! Why not just die?! Because of you, none of us are safe!"
[Devoured Emotion: Hate (Xiao Tiang) - Obtained 1 Point]
"..."
Fang Rui turned his head slowly, his gaze landing on a young girl. He could see that her face was filled with hatred. Then he looked around, only to see the same expression lurking on other people's faces.
'Ohh…?' Fang Rui said nothing; he just kept moving.
Blood was dripping down, but he didn't fall.
Could this puny rock knock him down? Of course not. His head was the hardest part of him.
"Little girl Tang Tang, don't go around throwing rocks at people." A middle-aged man stepped in, grabbing the child's wrist.
"But Uncle," Xiang Tang whined, pouting,
"Isn't he a demon? Mother said that demons are the worst beings in the world! Shouldn't we get rid of them? The storm must be done by him."
The man's grip tightened. "Hm... Demon? Yes, he is one of a kind... but still, you shouldn't provoke them. They're dangerous. What if he had hurt you?"
Their voices began to dissolve into the hum of the marketplace.
Then another voice came:
"Isn't that Fang Rui?" A hissed whisper slithered from a nearby stall. "The one who was banished for... you know... what they say he did to that junior disciple?"
"Look at him. Pathetic." The second voice dripped with malice. "He deserves worse than death."
"But... is it true?" A third, hesitant.
"Does it matter?" The reply was cold.
"...The Niyanta Sect doesn't banish disciples without cause. Stay away. People like him... they're worse than demons. Just being near him invites ruin… just like yesterday's catastrophe. You know what, we should not judge by the cover… His innocence is nothing but a total facade."
Their words should have cut like daggers, but after hearing variations of the same accusations for years, Fang Rui had grown numb to it. His face remained a mask of indifference as he trudged forward.
Seeing him pass, an elderly woman paused mid-bargain, her wrinkled face tightening in recognition.
[Devoured Emotion: Curiosity (Hao Xixi) - Obtained 1 Point]
"Isn't that the Fang boy?"
"...He looks worse than last time. And something about him... I wonder if the rumors are entirely true."
Her companion—a sharp-faced man with beady eyes—dismissed her immediately:
"What? You want to help him now? Have you gone soft, Old Hang? The Law Enforcement Division already ruled on his case. There was evidence. Unless you're saying you know better than the Sect Elders?"
The woman's eyes lingered on Fang Rui's gaunt figure. "But what if he's innocent? What if it's all a lie? Wouldn't that make his suffering—"
"Whether he's innocent or guilty," the man interrupted,
"...it's not our place to question. If this involves powerful people, we'd only bring ruin upon ourselves and our children." He lowered his voice further.
"...Besides, look at his wrist. Isn't it strange? That's the Dawnbringer's mark. Best not to speak of those already halfway to their grave."
The woman—Hao Xixi—sighed and made a warding gesture. "May the Almighty guide us from misfortune."
"Almighty? What Almighty? If the gods truly watched over us, would they let children starve in the streets while fat merchants throw away leftovers?"
Fang Rui walked on, their voices fading behind him like smoke in the wind.
He knew one truth behind their words—the cowardice masquerading as wisdom, the self-preservation dressed up as righteousness. This was the world's true face: a theatre of hypocrisy where everyone played their part while pretending not to see the blood staining the stage.
And he? He was just another prop in their morality play—the villain they needed to feel better about their own quiet compromises.
The thought almost made him laugh.
Almost.