Chapter 68: The Gallant Ma Xiaoling and the Mayor’s Concealment
“Huh?”
Zheng Tian was stunned for a few seconds before slowly coming back to herself.
She finally recalled the fervor with which Madahu sent Ren Zhong off two nights ago and suddenly understood.
Oh! Really, why am I panicking?
With the king of connections, there’s no need for me to worry.
I was scared for nothing, almost thought he was about to blow his top like Wen Lei.
Turns out he’d already planned his escape route before making his move.
Since Ren Zhong hadn't gone out hunting with the team this time, everyone hadn't yet witnessed his masterful, almost superhuman strategy.
Zheng Tian’s imagination ran a bit late and wasn't quite as intense, but better late than never.
As the group discussed, the Hunter arrived with a roar.
They quickly retreated to the side, watching as the Hunter expertly opened the lid, retrieved the goods, and departed.
After finishing, the Hunter didn’t immediately take off but only raised its altitude slightly, then headed for another alley—apparently someone else had just died there too, keeping it busy.
Once the Hunter left, Wen Lei was reluctantly dragged away by Zheng Tian.
Ren Zhong, however, wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Since he'd already killed the man, it seemed only right to check the body.
He bent down and removed the temporary wristwatch from the burly man's right hand, placing it on his own left wrist, attempting to read the wealth balance.
Nothing—there was a password. A pity.
“Boss, I know his password.”
The monkey-faced man from across the door had somehow come out and now stood in front of Ren Zhong.
One foot rested right atop the skull cap the Hunter had tossed to the ground.
At that moment, he nudged it with his toe as if wiping spit from the floor; whether intentional or not, who could say.
Ren Zhong squinted, “You even know his password? Were you in league with him?”
“How could that be! Boss, just look at me, I’m nothing like him!”
Ren Zhong nodded, “You’re not. Earlier, you tried to help her.”
He gestured toward the young girl lying nearby, utterly petrified with fear.
Ren Zhong thought, this man looked vile, but his heart wasn’t rotten to the core.
The monkey-faced man sighed and gave a thumbs-up, “Boss, you really have sharp eyes. Saw right through me.”
“Enough clowning. Let's talk business. What’s his password, and how do you know it?”
The guard hadn’t arrived yet, but the murderer in the street was conducting an interrogation.
The monkey-faced man rolled his eyes. “We grew up together. When we started scavenging as kids, we exchanged passwords. If one died, the other could keep using their money—better than letting it get reclaimed for nothing.”
“Then you two are brothers-in-arms. Don’t you want revenge?”
“I only wanted him dead.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I never had any talent for the profession. Spent half my life as a scavenger, barely survived by luck. He was different. Last year he measured his brain-machine synchronization, started prepping to become a mech warrior. Then…he needed money. I don’t need to say more, do I? Boss, look at my clothes, my bones.”
Ren Zhong asked, “Then why didn’t he kill you?”
The monkey-faced man shrugged, “Because I was cowardly enough. If he said go east, I never went west. I even gave him money sometimes. How could he bear to kill me?”
Ren Zhong pressed, “How are you sure he didn’t change the password?”
“He said he did, but I don’t think so. Changing the password costs ten contribution points—and he couldn’t even save up for a basic exoskeleton, why waste points? He knew I’d never dare touch him.”
Ren Zhong said, “Makes sense.”
“So let me try. If I’m wrong, no loss.”
Ren Zhong, “How do you want to split it?”
“Twenty percent for me, eighty for you.”
“Deal.”
Transfer complete: 61.2 points credited, Ren Zhong’s account now at 429.11.
As the two divided their spoils, people from the alley slowly emerged from their homes, gathering around.
At first, Ren Zhong thought they were just here to watch the spectacle, as always.
But to his surprise, in the eyes of these normally numb and indifferent bottom-dwellers, he saw a light of excitement.
“He’s dead? That scum is really dead?”
---
“Hahahaha! Dead! Good riddance!”
“Damn it!”
“Finally dead!”
The monkey-faced man cheerfully kicked the skull cap into the crowd.
The people started cheering, kicking it about like a football, and one boy even managed to curve it through the air.
Men and women embraced, sobbing and wailing, their grievances pouring out like a flood.
Ren Zhong listened for a few seconds to the couple’s cries, realizing the woman, who was rather pretty, had long suffered at the hands of the burly man, abused whenever he pleased.
Her partner could only watch, crouched in the corner, crying, still forced to prepare meals for the brute.
Others raised their fists to the sky, muttering about divine justice.
Some, both grateful and anxious, stole glances at Ren Zhong, murmuring that only evil can vanquish evil.
Two minutes of listening was enough to make Ren Zhong’s scalp tingle.
He felt he'd come too late.
The burly man was not just a nightmare lingering over the street’s people—“evil incarnate” barely did him justice.
“Sir…thank you.”
At some point, the girl emerged from the brute’s house, stood before Ren Zhong, head bowed in gratitude.
Her enemy was dead, but her face was still full of sorrow.
Ren Zhong nodded, “Did you find medicine in his house?”
“No…no, I didn’t. If there was, it should be yours. I only wanted to borrow it from you.”
Ren Zhong shook his head, “You really are foolish. Wait a moment…”
Just then, a woman who appeared to be fifty or sixty but was probably only in her thirties hurried over, panic written all over her face, grabbing the girl and pulling her away.
The older woman muttered, “Go! Hurry! No one here knows us, it’s not safe.”
The girl looked up, bewildered and struggling, “Mom, what about Dad? Is he alright?”
“He’s already gone. The Hunter came earlier. Forget it, let’s go!”
“Ah? Ah!” Hearing this, the girl’s body went limp, no longer resisting.
Her wailing echoed through the night.
Ren Zhong rubbed his nose, unsure what to say.
In the past, this would have upset him deeply.
But after living in the town for so long, he’d seen it all.
He wasn’t numb, just passively accustomed.
He knew that tragedies like this happened daily, over and over, until the world ended.
To change things, there was only one path: to realize his own ideals.
Ren Zhong’s journey would be long—nothing else.
From afar, a blinding white light suddenly shot forth, wind howling closer.
The crowd quieted instantly, driven by instinct to move under the eaves, clearing a passage.
A column of eight hovering motorcycles arrived in single file.
They resembled Lin Wang’s team’s bikes but were larger and moved with greater agility, painted conspicuously silver-white.
Lin Wang’s team had blue bikes—useful camouflage among blue vegetation in the wild—but the guards had no such need.
“You’re the killer?”
The lead bike stopped before Ren Zhong, its glaring headlight turning his vision snow-white, unable to see anything.
Ren Zhong didn’t mind, raising his head, “I am.”
“Huh, Mr. Ren Zhong?”
A bright, clear female voice called out, and the headlight switched off.
Ren Zhong blinked, “That’s me, too.”
Vision restored, he could see the newcomer.
She was tall, draped head to toe in a silver, form-fitting mech exoskeleton.
She removed her helmet, her ponytail bouncing behind her.
Her face wore a serene smile, phoenix eyes, and eyebrows thicker than most women—confident, poised, heroic.
---
It was Ren Zhong’s second time seeing her, but he’d heard her name more than once.
Captain of the town guard, initial brain-machine synchronization close to 16%, currently acknowledged as the strongest level-four mech warrior in town—Madahu’s daughter, Ma Xiaoling.
“I’ve heard my father mention you.”
Her bike lowered, and Ma Xiaoling jumped off, facing Ren Zhong.
Ren Zhong replied, “I’ve heard much about you, too. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Ma Xiaoling nodded, then glanced casually at the corpse nearby. “Though you’re an acquaintance, someone has died. According to our earlier report, you and this man weren’t acquainted?”
Ren Zhong didn’t deny it, “No, we weren’t.”
“Then, sorry, but you’ll have to come with me to the town office.”
Ren Zhong, “No problem.”
The guards behind Ma Xiaoling moved forward, producing chains from their hands.
The crowd watching from the street grew restless.
Some angrily demanded who had filed the report.
Others seemed eager to speak up on Ren Zhong’s behalf.
But in the end, everyone chose silence.
Ren Zhong wasn’t disappointed—it was exactly as he’d expected.
He didn’t blame them; it was meaningless.
Ma Xiaoling waved her hand, stopping her team, “No need for chains.”
“Captain?” A team member hesitated.
Ma Xiaoling turned and patted the seat behind her, “Mr. Ren, sit behind me. I’ll take you. My father thinks you might be a good person, so there’s no need to restrain you.”
Ren Zhong paused, then shook his head, “These days, being called a good person—I’m not sure if that’s praise or an insult.”
...
On the road, Ma Xiaoling lowered her voice, “Mr. Ren, I want to know where you heard about the census officer.”
Ren Zhong didn’t answer, instead asking, “Has your father checked with Spark Resources?”
“No. He said there’s no need. But you haven’t answered me.”
“Sorry, I can’t share that. But the information should be absolutely reliable.”
“When do you plan to leave Spark Town?”
“I haven’t made plans yet.”
“You’re waiting for the census to end, for the town to be dissolved before you go?”
Ren Zhong shook his head, “I really don’t know—I can’t decide right now.”
He sensed Ma Xiaoling was probing, trying to dig for information.
Thinking further, perhaps Madahu had begun investigating and found something, but the old fat man was hiding some details from his daughter.
The central tower of the town government drew closer.
Ren Zhong couldn’t help but think—his impromptu decision to see Old Ma today was absolutely right.
He should be able to get new information.
So, Comrade Old Ma, what have you discovered?
Ren Zhong instinctively felt it must concern the life and death of the town’s twenty thousand outcasts.
Thinking of this, he unconsciously clenched his fists.
“Mr. Ren, you’re holding on too tight.”
“Ah, sorry!”
When they boarded, Ma Xiaoling had told him to hold her waist.
The hover bike changed direction violently; it was easy for passengers to be thrown off.
Ren Zhong figured she was armored—no skin contact. There was nothing between them, so since she’d asked, he didn’t refuse out of politeness.
He was also curious to feel the surface texture of a level-four mech exoskeleton with his fingers, to gauge its performance, but hadn’t expected, lost in thought, to hold on too tightly.