The Savior’s Despair and Zhuo’s Fierce Loyalty

Yuan Zhanhui was utterly bewildered when he was tied up by the strange youth. He initially thought his cover had been blown and the authorities were coming to arrest him, but upon seeing his captor, that notion quickly vanished.

He wasn’t sure how official government personnel typically conducted their missions, but he was certain they were nothing like the madman standing before him.

The one who had bound them was a young person, seemingly around twenty years old, acting erratically. As they stared at Yuan Zhanhui, their pupils constantly fluttered, as if unable to focus.

“Why hasn’t the Savior arrived yet?” the youth murmured softly to themselves.

Meanwhile, Yuan Anqing tucked a steamed twisted roll into Zhuo’s mouth. “Do you like these?”

“Yes, I do,” Zhuo affirmed, taking the paper bag from Yuan Anqing’s hand.

“Do you want any steamed buns?” Yuan Anqing asked again.

“Yes, I want the meat ones,” Zhuo nodded.

Yuan Anqing bought Zhuo a few more buns. “Anything else you’d like to eat before we go in?”

“Can we get some noodles?” Zhuo glanced toward the direction where a massive maelstrom of desire was forming. “It’s pitch black over there, and I can hear thunder.”

“Then let’s go,” Yuan Anqing sighed. He knew there was no avoiding it.

“I’ll protect you, so you don’t need to be afraid,” Zhuo reassured him.

“I know you’ll protect me.” Yuan Anqing simply wasn’t eager to go; he wasn’t a qualified Savior and didn’t care much for the lives of strangers. He harbored no intention of harming anyone, and that was the extent of his capability.

Unaware of Yuan Anqing’s limited desire to save people, Yuan Zhanhui was anxiously waiting. He believed that since Yuan Anqing was the legendary Savior, such an obvious, apocalyptic storm of desire should have been noticed by the authorities long ago.

Should we take a taxi or a bus? Yuan Anqing wondered.

“A taxi,” Zhuo decided, sensing the growing urgency of the situation from Yuan’s grim expression.

“Is that kidnapper a boy or a girl?” the short-haired woman whispered to Yuan Zhanhui, both tied back-to-back.

“They’re likely a Differentiated Being, or perhaps neither,” Yuan Zhanhui replied.

“Don’t speak!” The captor they were discussing turned their head sharply. “Did I give you permission to open your mouths?”

“Did I allow you to discuss things about me?!” The youth approached step by step, their clothes covered in their own blood. They had been sitting there muttering to themselves, constantly self-harming with a small knife.

With a swift, manic motion, they grabbed Yuan Zhanhui’s collar, pulling him so close their noses almost touched.

“Are you discussing me?” For a fleeting moment, the youth’s eyes widened with innocent curiosity, but then their neck twitched, and their lips began to tremble. Yet, their unsettling smile never faltered as they introduced themselves to Yuan Zhanhui. “My name is Zhou Qiong.”

“Uh… hello?” Yuan Zhanhui was unsure what this madman intended.

After introducing their name, Zhou Qiong seemed to fall into a trance. Their pupils still trembled as they stared at Yuan Zhanhui, but their gaze couldn’t focus. “I’m a student; I’m in my sophomore year… No, that’s not right, junior year?”

“Huh? I… I should be… huh? I… I don’t think I ever went to school.” Zhou Qiong desperately tried to recall their life, but their memories were fragmented and chaotic. Their expression constantly shifted, as if they could no longer control their facial muscles. Finally, two streams of tears fell from their wide, unfocused eyes.

“Hey.” Zhou Qiong’s hand shifted from grabbing Yuan Zhanhui’s collar to pressing against his neck. “You’re just like me.”

This series of erratic actions sent shivers down Yuan Zhanhui’s spine. “Like you in what way?”

“You have the same aura as me. An inferior species.” At this moment, Zhou Qiong’s mind seemed to briefly clear. Their other hand, holding the knife, raised it and pressed the blade against Yuan Zhanhui’s neck. “You’ll become like me too. Sooner or later, you’ll all become like me.”

“All of you will become mindless monsters.” Zhou Qiong’s smile widened. “You’re trembling. Why are you trembling? Do you think I’ll stab you?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Zhou Qiong lightly grazed Yuan Zhanhui’s skin with the blade. “Don’t think you’ll get off so easily.”

“What do you mean?” the short-haired girl asked, terrified.

“Don’t speak anymore!” the pink-haired man hissed in a strained whisper.

Zhou Qiong looked at the short-haired girl but didn’t answer her question. They simply stared at her face. “You’re really pretty.”

The girl recoiled in fear.

“But pretty things die too,” Zhou Qiong said, touching their own temple. “They get eaten away, little by little.”

As they spoke, Zhou Qiong looked down at the knife in their hand again. “My name is… what was my name again?”

Yuan Zhanhui suddenly noticed something amiss with the wounds on Zhou Qiong’s arm. They weren’t random cuts from self-harm; they were carefully carved letters. Zhou Qiong had carved their name and age.

Zhou Qiong. 21. Sophomore.

Their home address was a bit long, extending down their forearm… Yuan Zhanhui felt a sense of absurd horror; Zhou Qiong was on the verge of carving their entire national ID number onto their arm.

But Yuan Zhanhui couldn’t laugh. He had a strong feeling Zhou Qiong was trying to communicate something to him before their mind was entirely gone.

“Zhou Qiong… yes, my name is Zhou Qiong.”

The long-haired man, who had been silent, finally spoke. “He’s becoming an ‘individual’.”

The long-haired man was a powerful psychic. “He’s about to turn into one of those mindless, vortex-level monsters.”

Zhou Qiong’s mental breakdown wasn’t purely neurological; their innate power was growing stronger, and their individual personality was being devoured by it. They were transforming into an empty vessel, a container for pure, chaotic power. This transformation had no external guidance; Zhou Qiong seemed to have simply reached a natural, horrifying growth stage—a “cocoon-to-butterfly” cycle. The “imaginal disc” of raw power within them was rapidly consuming the “caterpillar” of their conscious self.

Once the caterpillar was fully absorbed, the butterfly would emerge. However, this butterfly would bear no relation to the original, human caterpillar.

“What was my name again?” Zhou Qiong forgot. They lowered their head to look at their arm, but this time, they couldn’t understand the carved characters. They had forgotten they had ever learned to read. The familiar strokes now appeared as meaningless symbols in their eyes.

Zhou Qiong collapsed, wanting to wail, but in an instant, they forgot why they had looked down, or how the wounds on their hand had appeared.

Wounds… what were wounds again?
What was I thinking just now?

Innumerable grey mists seeped from their now-healing wounds.

With a deafening BANG, the room’s door was kicked in. Yuan Anqing rushed in, with Zhuo close behind. Zhuo had kicked the door, but he dodged quickly, instantly hiding behind Yuan Anqing, always maintaining his “helpless bodyguard” persona.

Zhou Qiong looked toward Yuan Anqing. In Zhou Qiong’s eyes, everything in the world was a dull gray. They could see everyone’s hidden desires.

Only Yuan Anqing and Zhuo were exceptions: one a vast, blinding whiteness, the other a searing, impenetrable scarlet. The scarlet one posed too great a threat, but the white one… they wanted it. They wanted to devour it.

This was an instinctive, primal drive; the empty husk of a body craved a warm soul, even if just for a fleeting moment of comfort.

However, Zhou Qiong appeared far more complex in Yuan Anqing’s eyes. He could see a chaotic maelstrom of desire, even more potent than the last, yet Zhou Qiong themselves weren’t entirely chaotic. They were heavily enveloped by gray mists that almost filled their entire body, but faint, flickering specks of light still scattered within. These lights were being broken and scattered by the gray mist, slowly leaking from their body.

“They’re dead,” Zhuo stated bluntly. “They’ve become an empty vessel.”

“Is that what you think?” Yuan Anqing stared intently at those tiny specks of light. “Can’t you see those glowing fragments?”

No sooner had he spoken than Zhou Qiong lunged directly at Yuan Anqing.

They stared straight into Yuan Anqing’s eyes but remained completely unaffected by his passive “golden gaze.” Their shell was already empty—devoid of thought, past, or personality. Zhou Qiong had desperately tried to leave a part of themselves behind, but even the name carved on their arm was no longer recognizable to them.

Just as Zhou Qiong was about to reach Yuan Anqing, Zhuo’s massive tail lashed out, flinging Zhou Qiong away with brutal, casual force. Zhou Qiong crashed through the sofa, tearing a large hole in it.

Yuan Zhanhui’s eyes widened in alarm.

Zhuo then looked at Yuan Zhanhui with a predatory grin. “If you saw that, you’ll have to be silenced. Don’t expect to leave here alive.”

Yuan Zhanhui: “Oh, crap.”

“Killing them is a bit troublesome,” Zhuo remarked, turning his attention back to the monster. “If we just break down their body, the maelstrom of desire will only grow larger. They’re like a cockroach ootheca; very troublesome.”

“They’re still alive,” Yuan Anqing pointed at Zhou Qiong’s body.

“Just a living dead, that’s all,” Zhuo dismissed.

“I mean their personality still exists,” Yuan Anqing clarified.

“Huh?” Zhuo frowned. “Are you serious?”

“You really can’t see the light fragments?” Yuan Anqing asked.

“See what?” Zhuo felt Yuan Anqing was speaking in riddles. He squinted, observing the room carefully, but could only see the dusty maelstrom of desire and the red lightning buried within it.

Zhou Qiong, who had been slammed into the sofa, rose again and lunged toward Yuan Anqing, claws outstretched. Their left arm was dislocated from the impact, but they felt no pain; they only wanted to devour the white light.

“Zhuo, hold them down,” Yuan Anqing commanded.

Zhuo obeyed, firmly pinning Zhou Qiong to the ground. Zhou Qiong roared in fury, pounding the ground so violently it cracked the floor tiles, yet was still unable to break free from Zhuo’s restraint.

Yuan Anqing reached out into the air, grasping the scattered specks of light. As his fingers touched one, a paralyzing chill ran through him.

In that instant, Yuan Anqing felt all emotion drain away—weariness, annoyance, even his faint, possessive fondness for Zhuo. Nothing remained.

No, that wasn’t quite right. He still had emotions, but they no longer affected him. He was observing them from a great distance.

He felt like he had become something… strange. He heard a child crying sorrowfully in his mind.

“Yuan Anqing?!” Zhuo had no idea what Yuan Anqing was seeing. He only knew that Yuan Anqing had suddenly reached out toward an empty spot, then froze, becoming like a statue.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Zhuo was anxious but couldn’t release Zhou Qiong.

“Yuan An—” Zhuo hadn’t finished calling out when the latent golden light in Yuan Anqing’s eyes suddenly flared, engulfing Zhuo’s entire vision and consciousness.

This psychic diffusion was incredibly rapid; no one had time to react.

In the government monitoring room, the energy technician screamed. The shift supervisor quickly leaned over. “What’s happening?”

“Desire levels just reset to absolute zero,” the observer pointed to the real-time chart.

Normally, the collective desire value in the city should be within a thousand. Anything exceeding that indicated a potential anomaly. The value had just spiked to a hundred thousand—a clear sign of a forming maelstrom. However, in less than a second, this off-the-charts indicator had plummeted directly to zero, without the slightest buffer.

“Is the machine broken?” The observer was baffled. “What are the field teams evacuating citizens near the maelstrom saying?”

The supervisor immediately sent a message to their colleague, but no reply came.

“Pull up the live surveillance! Quickly!” The supervisor’s expression changed. They had a terrible feeling.

The observer quickly brought up the surveillance system for that street. The cameras weren’t damaged, but everyone in the footage was lying motionless on the ground.

It was bizarre; the entire street seemed to have been paused. The cars had also stopped in the middle of the road. The vehicles hadn’t collided; the drivers and passengers inside had simply closed their eyes and collapsed. They seemed to have fallen asleep, and before doing so, the drivers had instinctively parked their cars.

“Confirm the range of the effect! Then cordon off the entire area immediately!” The supervisor made a swift, panicked decision.

Yuan Anqing was unaware of the immense impact he had caused. Even if he knew, he wouldn’t care now. He simply walked toward the crying child in the void.

“Why are you crying?” Yuan Anqing asked.

The child turned to look at him, startled. “What… what are you?”

All around was pitch black, devoid of sky, land, or scenery. In the child’s eyes, Yuan Anqing was merely a glowing, warm figure, their features indistinct, only vaguely humanoid.

“You don’t need to know what I am.” Yuan Anqing found it difficult to explain what he truly was. “You just need to remember who you are.”

“Who am I?” The child was stunned.

“Yes. Do you still remember? Who are you?”

The child shook their head. Though called a ‘child,’ it was merely a tiny speck of light, like a dust mote illuminated by sunlight. It didn’t even have a human form, yet Yuan Anqing felt he could clearly perceive its shape.

This child was pitiful, and Yuan Anqing should have felt empathy, but he didn’t feel sad.

No empathy? Not necessarily. Yuan Anqing clearly understood what the child wanted, and he was prepared to give it to them.

Innumerable tiny specks of light converged from all directions, solidifying into a blurry, palm-sized human figure.

“Child,” Yuan Anqing called to them.

The child looked up at Yuan Anqing. They had nothing; their soul was utterly empty. They felt sad but didn’t know why. Yuan Anqing, the light-being, made the child feel at ease, like a kindred spirit, a source of their own being, though not intimately close.

Yuan Anqing held the child in his palm. “Do you want to remember who you are?”

The child didn’t answer immediately; they tried to discern Yuan Anqing’s features but failed. “Are we relatives?”

“We are not,” Yuan Anqing shook his head.

“Then why are you so kind to me?”

“I’m not particularly kind to you,” Yuan Anqing answered truthfully. “I’m just taking you to where you belong.”

“Where do I belong?”

“You have your own life.” Yuan Anqing’s voice was gentle, yet it didn’t feel warm. It carried an inexplicable, cosmic sense of detachment.

“I’ve forgotten.”

“Do you want to find it again?” Yuan Anqing repeated the question. “If you wish to find it again, you can return. If you don’t, I can let you dissipate now.”

The child was given a choice.

“I want to find it again,” the child said. “How?”

“It’s simple.” Yuan Anqing reached out and touched the child’s forehead.

Then, the surrounding environment shifted. The world was born from the child’s mind. Yuan Anqing used the child’s own fragmented memories to create a brand-new, terrifyingly real world. It seemed boundless yet bore the marks of time. The sprouting and wilting of every leaf, the cracks in the wall, the growing mold, even the birth and death of a single insect.

Yuan Anqing watched dispassionately, as if standing in the heavens, observing everything. He watched the child’s first cry at birth, watched them being named Zhou Qiong. This was a very ordinary child, raised in an orphanage. The orphanage was somewhat special; the children there were all inferior Differentiated Beings, but Zhou Qiong’s power wasn’t strong enough, so they grew up peacefully like ordinary people.

Zhou Qiong’s ordinary childhood was abruptly cut short during their sophomore summer. Their body began to develop problems; their desires started to swell, uncontrollably. Their body gradually lost control until one day, the orphanage director decided to abandon them, using them to create trouble for the newly born Savior.

Their unremarkable life was pushed to its breaking point. The director threatened the health of other children, demanding Zhou Qiong complete the mission. Their body and mind began to collapse simultaneously. They arrived at the Savior’s friend’s house, kicked open the door, and attacked those people in a state of chaos.

They grew stronger and stronger, yet they were forgetting their own name.

Just as Zhou Qiong was about to futilely carve their name onto their arm with a knife, a voice pulled them back.

“Look. You’ve found it again.”

Zhou Qiong’s memory suddenly expanded.

Yuan Anqing stood before them. Zhou Qiong’s discomfort vanished. They looked around in horror. “This place is fake?!” They had truly lived in this world for twenty-one years!

“It’s fake.” Yuan Anqing had been watching Zhou Qiong. As for time, time was merely a broad concept, proven only by aging and accumulating memories. Yuan Anqing had silently observed Zhou Qiong for twenty-one years, and those twenty-one years could also have been a single second in his mind.

Zhou Qiong felt a sense of absurd horror. Was the life he had so truly experienced merely a dream in the end?

“They are real to you. These were originally your memories; only the sequence was mixed up.”

The order of time held no meaning. For Yuan Anqing, Zhou Qiong’s self-proclaimed precious life was not so special—ordinary and unremarkable.

Zhou Qiong stared intently at Yuan Anqing. “You are the Savior?” He couldn’t comprehend such a god-like existence.

“Something like that,” Yuan Anqing lowered his gaze.

“So, do I return to reality now?” Zhou Qiong asked.

“As you wish. You can stay here; whatever you desire, I can grant you,” Yuan Anqing said. “If you return to reality, your future will be uncontrollable.”

“Does the Savior love everyone? To grant me everything?”

“No.” Yuan Anqing looked into Zhou Qiong’s eyes. “A soul merely needs an ending. As for what kind of ending, I do not care.”

Everything was Zhou Qiong’s choice.

“…I want to return to reality,” Zhou Qiong said.

“Then go,” Yuan Anqing said indifferently. He waved his hand, and Zhou Qiong vanished.

The surrounding illusion faded away as well. Yuan Anqing stood alone in the void for a while. He didn’t know where he should go, but he also had no desire to go anywhere. He would just stay there.

Yuan Anqing stood alone, lost in thought. After an unknown period, footsteps suddenly echoed.

“You bastard! Did you trap me in here?!” a clear, youthful voice rang out.

Yuan Anqing turned to see a young Zhuo.

Zhuo’s horns hadn’t fully grown yet, only two sharp nubs were visible, and his cheeks were puffed out like a hamster’s. This wasn’t because he was hiding food, but because his baby teeth had just been pulled, causing swelling. Zhuo’s memory was trapped in his most painful age. Yet, unlike ordinary Differentiated Beings, Zhuo was incredibly powerful. After several loops of the dentist’s office, he had finally realized he was trapped.

Yuan Anqing watched the child-monster without speaking.

“I’ll eat you!” Zhuo yelled. “What kind of trick is this?! Trying to play god with me!” He seemed genuinely furious, disregarding his usual high-class villain persona and immediately resorting to cursing. “Even if there are truly gods in this world, it can only be your grandpa, me! Understand?!”

Yuan Anqing decided to ignore Zhuo.

However, Zhuo at this age was more easily provoked than his adult self. “What do you mean?!” Zhuo circled in front of Yuan Anqing. “How dare you ignore me?!”

Zhuo incessantly yelled at Yuan Anqing, and Yuan Anqing finally felt a strong emotion—he found Zhuo incredibly noisy.

Zhuo, realizing this scoundrel continued to ignore him, extended a leg to kick Yuan Anqing. He missed. This was Yuan Anqing’s mental world; Yuan Anqing was the absolute master. Zhuo’s current state was merely an anomaly.

But Zhuo was not one to give up so easily. He reverted to his original, child-like monster form.

Zhuo’s current original form also differed from his adult self. While both looked massive, his horns hadn’t grown, and the proportions of his body were more like a toddler’s, with a larger head.

After reverting to his true form, Zhuo began chasing Yuan Anqing, trying to hit him. Yuan Anqing could only dodge, but the more he dodged, the angrier Zhuo became, and the angrier Zhuo became, the more agile his movements grew.

Yuan Anqing dodged for an unknown period. Eventually, feeling somewhat impatient, he asked, “Do you want some candy?”

“I’ll eat you!” Zhuo fiercely retorted.

“I asked if you wanted candy.” Yuan Anqing gestured to a spot beside them; a table appeared out of thin air, laden with all of Zhuo’s favorite foods. Some of these foods, Zhuo at this age likely hadn’t even tasted.

Zhuo glanced at the table, smelled the aroma, then rushed over, grasping it with both hands and flipping it over. All the food tumbled to the floor. “Do you think your grandpa, me, is your pet?! Trying to appease me with food?! Dream on!”

Not only did Zhuo not feel happy, he felt his dignity had been insulted. Was he some monster who would sell his noble soul for a piece of cake?

Yuan Anqing: “…” I’m about to hit this child.

Zhuo was relentless; Yuan Anqing couldn’t have a moment of peace to himself.

In this space, Yuan Anqing was the absolute ruler. He conjured ropes and bound Zhuo, then created a rattan cane to whip the troublesome brat.

“Hit me!” Zhuo, though restrained, refused to yield. “As long as you can’t kill me! You just wait! I will absolutely get my revenge!”

“Do you think I’m afraid of you?” Zhuo defiantly stuck out his neck, incredibly brave.

“This will hurt more than having your teeth pulled,” Yuan Anqing reminded him.

But Zhuo still showed no sign of bowing his head or admitting fault. “Fine! I’ll remember this grudge today! Don’t you dare fall into my hands!”

His words were firm, but tears welled up uncontrollably. Zhuo had probably estimated the specific degree of pain; he was afraid, but he felt he needed to maintain his dignity. He sobbed to himself, his tail carefully wrapped around his own body.

Yuan Anqing sighed in resignation. He crouched down, intending to wipe Zhuo’s tears, but before his hand could even touch him, Zhuo—bundled up like a caterpillar—suddenly sprang up, leaping and attacking Yuan Anqing.

He bit Yuan Anqing’s neck with such force that it was clearly aimed at suffocating him.

“Ugh!” Yuan Anqing fell backward.

Upon hearing that genuine cry of pain, Zhuo’s heart suddenly tightened, and he instinctively eased his grip a little.

“Zhuo!” Yuan Anqing’s tone was filled with actual, human anger. With this surge of fury, the ethereal, detached, god-like state completely withdrew from his body. At this moment, that eerie tranquility also vanished.

The desire values began to climb again. The people who had fallen to the ground gradually awoke. They unconsciously got up, then resumed whatever they had been doing, completely unaware they had been lying on the pavement for so long.

Everyone affected in the room also snapped back to reality.

Zhuo sprang up, releasing the now-cured Zhou Qiong, and rushed to Yuan Anqing’s side, reaching out to touch his neck. There was no wound; Zhuo breathed a sigh of relief.

Yuan Anqing was also awake, his face as pale as paper. Before Zhuo could speak, Yuan Anqing covered his mouth and rushed to the bathroom to vomit.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Zhuo quickly followed, not forgetting to threaten Yuan Zhanhui and the others before entering the bathroom. “If any of you try to escape, you’ll die a miserable death!”

Zhuo gently patted Yuan Anqing’s back. “Are you feeling very unwell?”

Yuan Anqing threw up nothing. He felt unsteady, his head feeling as if it had been stirred with a knife.

“Is it because I bit you?” Zhuo still remembered what happened in the mental world. “Is it because I…”

“Zhuo,” Yuan Anqing interrupted them. His expression remained calm, but his body trembled uncontrollably. “It’s a good thing you bit me.”

Zhuo thought they had misheard. “What?”

Yuan Anqing was silent for a moment. He swallowed hard, feeling as if something was lodged in his throat. “It’s a good thing you bit me. A very good thing.”

Zhuo was a major variable; they weren’t as psychically powerful as Yuan Anqing, but after being affected, they could still react and break free from the influence to the greatest extent.

“If you hadn’t been there bothering me…” Yuan Anqing looked at Zhuo. “I might already be dead.”

At that time, Yuan Anqing had been in a state of pure “emptiness,” detached from the mundane world, without desires or pursuits. If he had persisted in that state, he would have eventually forgotten his own name and simply faded away. This “emptiness” of his was not an enlightenment gained after many trials; this “emptiness” would have consumed Yuan Anqing himself.

Zhuo in that state had merely been indignant and stubborn. Yet, he was the one who pulled Yuan Anqing out of that “emptiness.”

Zhuo was also stunned. “You… what did you say?”

“If it weren’t for you, I might already be dead,” Yuan Anqing repeated.

“How could you die?! You were so powerful!” Zhuo had been trapped in that mental world, unable to find a way out, and he had been truly terrified.

Yuan Anqing shook his head, and Zhuo quickly held him tighter to steady him.

“You don’t know me, but I know you. You remember my state at the time, right?” Yuan Anqing’s head still ached.

Yuan Anqing didn’t have time to continue speaking; Zhuo’s tail wrapped around him. Zhuo’s tail was actually very strong; it could lift Yuan Anqing directly. Zhuo held Yuan Anqing tightly in their arms with their tail and both arms. They had been scared by Yuan Anqing’s sudden collapse, and the safest place Zhuo could think of was close to themselves.

They ran out of the building, carrying Yuan Anqing. The monitoring team from outside also rushed in. Zhuo met the team leader, shouting loudly, “Arrest everyone in that house! And also, I need a car! As fast as possible!” He wanted to take Yuan Anqing back to their lair; it wasn’t safe here.

“What happened to Mr. Savior?” The team leader couldn’t see Yuan Anqing’s face at all, making it impossible to judge his condition.

“He’s perfectly fine! AND! He can’t go on missions anymore! I won’t allow it!” Zhuo noticed Yuan Anqing’s skin was still cold, and his breathing hadn’t yet stabilized.

Yuan Anqing was indeed not in good shape. After being encircled by Zhuo, he fell into a semi-conscious state.

He felt that at some point, he had temporarily become a god. This state surely wasn’t an occasional occurrence; he would likely become like that again in the future.

Was this what a Savior truly was? To be able to change all rules with a mere thought, to create a perfect world in the spiritual domain. But if he didn’t master it, he would be trapped within it, dissipating into nothingness. This immense power made Yuan Anqing very uncomfortable. On the contrary, he feared it.

Were the early deaths of the other Saviors also due to this?

Yuan Anqing did not yearn for that all-controlling power; he only wanted to go back to sleep.

“Yuan Anqing! Yuan Anqing!” Zhuo called out to him. “You… you’re not dead, are you?”

Yuan Anqing lifted his heavy eyelids and looked at Zhuo.

“You can’t die.” Zhuo reached out and stroked Yuan Anqing’s cheek. “You really can’t die!”

“I’m not in danger anymore,” Yuan Anqing reminded them softly.

“You are.” Zhuo’s mental power was equally formidable; they already understood what Yuan Anqing’s “god-like” state had been. “You’ll always be in danger.”

Yuan Anqing pursed his lips. “Otherwise, how about we talk about you chasing me and trying to hit me in the mental world?”

Zhuo felt even more sorrowful. “You’re starting to change the subject. Have you not found a new way to live yet?”

How could he find a new way in such a short time? The existential problem had just surfaced! Yuan Anqing was just trying to ease the heavy atmosphere because Zhuo was so upset.

Why was Zhuo so quick to react to his deflections? So clever.

“You should rest well and not bother trying to comfort me,” Zhuo said, just needing to know Yuan Anqing wasn’t dead. Without waiting for Yuan Anqing’s reply, they pressed Yuan Anqing’s head into their chest and gently patted his back.

Yuan Anqing was very unwell and needed to rest. But trouble would inevitably find them.

Fortunately, Zhuo had many hands. After returning home and confirming Yuan Anqing was asleep, Zhuo’s other arms broke free. Their clothes were torn from the partial transformation, but Zhuo didn’t care. They furiously typed a message to Bai Tian, denouncing the entire organization: [He will die! Do you understand?! He will die! I cannot accept him leaving me!]

[If he dies, all of you are finished too! I’m not trying to scare you!]

Zhuo didn’t put Yuan Anqing on the bed; they felt Yuan Anqing was unsafe even a little distance away from them. He kept him cradled on the sofa.

Bai Tian’s side was slow to reply, probably because the officials were also bewildered by this incident and were still discussing it.

Zhuo ignored them, focusing solely on his own angry output: [If it weren’t for Yuan Anqing, I would bite all of you to death right now.]

[You don’t care about the Savior at all! Only I care about him!]

[Don’t be so anxious yet.] Bai Tian finally replied. He felt that if they delayed any longer, Zhuo would come to demolish the government building. However, he was mistaken about this point. Zhuo wouldn’t prioritize revenge; they knew very well what was most important to them, and right now, Yuan Anqing needed rest. [If your wife had an accident, wouldn’t you be anxious? You truly are a good husband.]

Bai Tian was convinced that if he were in front of Zhuo, Zhuo would beat him up before listening to him speak.

Bai Tian was helpless but had to communicate with the frantic chimera: [Even without performing missions, Saviors will all experience this. It’s an awakening.]

[Living a good life, why would they experience such a mess?] Zhuo thought Bai Tian was trying to bluff him.

[Your Father-Body died this way.] Bai Tian’s answer was simple and clear. [Their mental power awakens at an unknown time, suddenly breaking free from all restraints, suddenly ‘seeing through’ the mortal world, and then their spirit simply dissipates.]

Zhuo’s typing hand paused.

Finally, they could only threaten: [If Yuan Anqing is gone, I will take revenge on society!]

[According to our analysis, Yuan Anqing is already the safest Savior.] Bai Tian replied. [He emerged from that state; this is the first time anyone ever has.]

Zhuo was stunned.

[Do you know how Yuan Anqing emerged from that state?] Bai Tian and the others only knew the Savior had an outburst but hadn’t personally experienced Yuan Anqing’s mental world, so they couldn’t analyze it.

[I annoyed him out of it.] Zhuo didn’t really want others to know about this, as it concerned their pride. However, Yuan Anqing’s survival ranked above their pride, so Zhuo recounted the entire story in detail.

Bai Tian on the other end was silent for a long time.

Zhuo thought they were shocked by his childish behavior and was about to threaten them again, but Bai Tian’s message came through: [Do you love the Savior?]

[Yes, I do.] Zhuo’s attention was diverted. [The Savior is much better than all of you.]

Bai Tian continued: [What kind of love?]

[The kind where I want to sleep with him.] Zhuo didn’t know what shyness was; they only felt it was natural to state their desires. [The kind of sleeping involved in reproduction, even though we can’t reproduce.]

[We can find a way to get the Savior to marry you.] Bai Tian meant they could all work together to win Yuan Anqing’s heart.

However, Zhuo exploded: [What do you mean? An arranged marriage?! Whether he wants to marry me is HIS business; why are you interfering so much?] Although they would bite to death anyone who might develop a romantic relationship with Yuan Anqing, they would not force Yuan Anqing himself.

[If you have so much free time, go manage your own children! You and your wife haven’t had kids in so long; is there something wrong with your body?] Zhuo immediately resorted to personal attacks again.

[It’s not an arranged marriage.] Bai Tian felt Zhuo was like a cornered hedgehog now. [It’s us working together to find a way to anchor him.]

Zhuo still wouldn’t listen: [If your method works, then will Yuan Anqing like YOU or like ME?]

Bai Tian: “…”

[I’ll definitely overthink it. Whoever’s method works, I’ll bite them to death.] Zhuo’s movements on the phone were exceptionally swift and forceful.

“Mm…” Yuan Anqing’s brows furrowed in his sleep.

Zhuo quickly looked down. Yuan Anqing was sleeping against their chest, and at this moment, Yuan Anqing opened his eyes, looking a bit groggy.

“What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” Zhuo extended two more hands to gently massage Yuan Anqing’s temples.

“Nothing. I’ll be fine after resting for a bit.”

“If I get a bit bigger, you can lie down more comfortably,” Zhuo offered, shifting his true form.

“No need.” Yuan Anqing wanted to wrap his arms around Zhuo, and if Zhuo got any bigger, they wouldn’t be able to hug him back.

“Does your head still hurt?” Zhuo felt Yuan Anqing wasn’t sleeping peacefully.

“It’s okay,” Yuan Anqing pursed his lips.

“Sleep a bit more, and we’ll eat when you wake up,” Zhuo gently comforted. “You can eat anything you want. My cooking is very good.”

Yuan Anqing fell back asleep under Zhuo’s soothing.

Zhuo gently patted Yuan Anqing’s back with one hand, massaged his temples with two hands, and their remaining three arms started typing again: [Where’s your staff’s small chat group? Add me!]

[Why do you want in?] Bai Tian had a bad feeling.

[I want to see what methods you’ve all thought up for me.] Zhuo said fiercely. [I’ll try them one by one, and if even one works, you’ll lose a colleague.]

[No one’s thinking of ideas for you.] The high-ranking officials in the group were discussing Yuan Anqing’s recent departure from his ‘god-like’ state; this was a first, a very promising start for the future of all Saviors.

[Not helping me think of ideas? So you don’t take me seriously, huh? Pull me in, I want to scold them.] Zhuo wouldn’t give up. [After scolding them, I’ll bite them to death.]

Bai Tian began pressing his temples. He felt that if Yuan Anqing hadn’t been there to hold Zhuo back, Zhuo would have already devoured the world.