They left in dramatic fashion, but after running some distance, the two men and the tiger collapsed in a hidden corner, panting heavily.
Su Cha’s wrists were sore. He managed to pull out a nutrient vial and handed one to Ji Tianjin.
They could hear each other’s breathing, the pounding of their hearts, but neither spoke.
Su Cha tried to imagine things from Ji Tianjin’s point of view: a relaxing vacation had turned into a desperate escape; the enemies they’d killed turned out to be giant rats in disguise; and unseen foes still lurked in the shadows, watching their every move.
Just thinking about it was numbing.
He kept sneaking glances at Ji Tianjin. When the other’s lips finally moved, Su Cha instinctively tensed.
“Who do you want to kill?”
“…Huh?”
Su Cha, just thinking how to begin explaining, was momentarily caught off guard.
Ji Tianjin asked bluntly, “Who do you want dead? Make a list. Once we’re done, we’ll figure out how to get back.”
It wasn’t by chance that they ended up in this world. Whatever force had led them here would probably offer some kind of after-sales service. Besides, since Cyril knew the truth, it was only a matter of time before he located them.
Su Cha was stunned. “You’re not even going to ask why?”
Ji Tianjin was replacing the batteries in his mechanical gloves. “No matter what, I’m on your side.”
It wasn’t a grand vow, nor did he say it with any particular emphasis. He just said it casually while looking down, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
But that offhanded sincerity made Su Cha’s heart pound violently.
He’d never been in love, but he’d seen others fall into it. Su Cha keenly realized that Ji Tianjin’s feelings for him might not be limited to friendship.
After a brief silence, he asked, “What kind of person do you think I am?”
This time, Ji Tianjin answered with genuine seriousness. “Tough and hardworking. You have your own ideas, you know your limits… and you’re someone who needs to be taken care of.”
“…” Are you blind?
Even the lotus magnolia spirit thought that only love could produce such delusional admiration.
Emotionally, Su Cha was always one step ahead. Ji Tianjin, on the other hand, was purely driven by instinct—and since arriving in this world, had been too busy running for his life to examine their relationship any further.
Su Cha quietly drank a nutrient vial to calm himself down.
Blissfully unaware, Ji Tianjin remained focused on the problem at hand—dealing with Su Cha’s enemies. “I need to learn everything I can about this world.”
Not Su Cha’s past—this world. The more he knew, the more strategic he could be when taking action.
Su Cha thought it over and said, “The people on this planet aren’t born with spiritual power. They follow a cultivation system, kind of like the Zerg evolutionary model. Creatures with spiritual potential can cultivate into human form and are usually referred to as ‘yao’—monsters.”
Seeing that Ji Tianjin had no particular reaction to the word, Su Cha continued, “As for how far things have developed here, I’m not sure.”
He’d been gone for too long. Things changed fast.
One thing was certain: in terms of tech, this world was leagues behind the advanced planets. Forget spaceships—even basic aircraft probably didn’t exist. That guy who was secretly filming earlier? He was using a basic model phone.
After regaining some strength, they continued forward. As they walked, Su Cha mused aloud: “I’ve imagined so many ways I might return—countless warships in the sky, an army of 100,000 behind me. And with one command—”
Ji Tianjin suddenly stopped walking.
Su Cha instinctively looked up. Ahead was an abandoned bridge. Underneath it lay a large open area overgrown with weeds.
Ji Tianjin said seriously, “We can rest there tonight.”
“…,” Su Cha twitched. Not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined this.
But reality was cruel. They were basically undocumented refugees now.
Just as Su Cha was mentally spiraling, Ji Tianjin suddenly chuckled and pulled a wallet out of nowhere.
Catching a whiff of rat, Su Cha instantly realized it was looted from the rat demon they’d killed earlier.
“Good habit,” he said. If you kill someone, you might as well rob them too.
Ji Tianjin’s steady mindset was impressive—he’d watched a corpse turn into a rat and still had the presence of mind to swipe its wallet without anyone noticing.
Su Cha leapt into a tree, scanned the horizon, and finally raised an eyebrow. “Friend, let’s head into the city.”
They had money now, after all.
Only one problem remained: and it wasn’t vanity—anyone with eyes would turn around for another look if these two walked down the street.
As if sensing Su Cha’s thoughts, Ji Tianjin said, “Your teacher could read others’ perceptions. You can use spiritual power to blur yours too.”
Su Cha had been asleep for four years and lacked a lot of theoretical knowledge, but he caught on quickly. Ji Tianjin taught him step-by-step, and soon he had the hang of it.
Over the next half hour, they crossed two mountains. By the time they emerged from the tunnel, night had already fallen.
They stood on a busy city street, neon signs flashing on both sides. Su Cha took a step back to avoid the exhaust of a passing car.
Priority now was to find a place to stay and make a plan. Without ID, hotels weren’t an option. So Su Cha turned to one of those seedy motels lining the street of internet cafes—places where the owners cared more about a quick buck than rules.
The motel owner was dozing off. Hearing footsteps, he cracked open his eyes. “Eighty-one per night.”
“Standard room. One night for now.”
The owner took the money, handed over the key, and flopped back onto the desk. Half-asleep, he thought the two men had good presence—but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall what they looked like.
The room reeked of moisture. The walls were yellowed, the lighting dim. Su Cha figured it was worth maybe forty, at most.
The TV was still on—clearly the last guest had just left, and no one had bothered cleaning up.
Some melodramatic rich-people love triangle was playing out onscreen. The male lead was torn between love and status.
Zzzt—zzzt—
At first they thought it was bad wiring. Ji Tianjin was about to check when he realized the sound was coming from Su Cha’s teeth—he was grinding them.
This was someone who had experience playing a mermaid in a school play. Ji Tianjin didn’t believe the drama was making him that mad. Thinking back to Su Cha’s intense spiritual awakening, Ji Tianjin had a vague guess.
The more he watched, the more annoyed Su Cha got. He shut the TV off and turned to see Ji Tianjin staring at him, then sheepishly rubbed his nose.
The room was run-down. Even the water heater was broken. But some things were oddly well-stocked—like couple-themed mini umbrellas, overpriced alcohol, and other amenities marked up several times over store price.
Su Cha opened two bottles and sat cross-legged in a chair.
After clinking glasses three times, he stared blankly at the floor and finally opened up about a buried part of his past: “It all happened a long time ago. Basically, it was two geniuses from different species who fell in love across boundaries… and in the end, I got blamed for all of it.”
“…Didn’t expect I had such a tough life. Ended up working for a friend for a long time in exchange for a chance to reincarnate.”
Ji Tianjin’s grip on the bottle tightened slightly—not because of the reincarnation part. He asked, “No one heard you out?”
Not even one person willing to stand up for him? Were the people here all blind?
Su Cha cleared his throat, shook the bottle, and imitated a typical villain line from TV: “Scream all you want, even if you scream your throat hoarse, no one’s coming.”
His acting was vivid, but he quickly fell into a long silence.
“Back then, they poisoned my throat. I couldn’t speak, let alone explain myself.”
Thinking back now, it showed that some people knew the truth but chose to let the blame fall on him. The Flower Demon Clan had already suffered once. If the real culprit turned out to be a beloved prodigy with countless admirers, the entire clan might have collapsed in disillusionment.
But every injustice has a source, every debt a debtor. What did it have to do with him? It’s not like he deserved to take the fall.
Su Cha took a sip of liquor, letting it burn slowly down his throat, inwardly mulling over how he was definitely going to twist off their heads one day.
A bitter breath was caught in his chest when a sudden crack pierced the air.
Wine flowed between his fingers to the ground—Ji Tianjin had accidentally crushed the bottle. The two spiritual forms had appeared without them noticing. The lotus-magnolia spirit raised its leaves as if about to roll up its sleeves and fight. The white tiger’s fur fluffed up like snow, tail whipping the floor hard enough to leave cracks.
“…” Su Cha sobered instantly and quickly tried to calm them. “Everyone chill out—we’ll have to pay for damages at this rate.”
The white tiger bared its fangs, its killing intent only growing stronger.
Su Cha’s eyelid twitched. Spiritual forms were manifestations of the host’s rational mind—Ji Tianjin looked calm, so why was his spirit form freaking out first?
As he crouched to soothe the tiger, he happened to glance at Ji Tianjin’s eyes—and froze. That cold gleam said it all. Maybe he wasn’t that calm after all.
“The list,” Ji Tianjin brought it up again.
Su Cha coughed lightly. “It’s a long list, and a few of them aren’t weak.”
Ji Tianjin replied, “Then let’s start by lightly killing one.”
“…”
Su Cha’s original plan was to go on a slaughter spree. Now, it seemed he needed to be the one telling someone else to cool down.
“Not yet.” He sighed. “If we’re going to act, we should hit them where it hurts. I’ll spend tonight figuring out how to take out a few of the Flower Demon Clan’s most troublesome elders in one move.”
He got up and walked to the window, lips curling into a cold smile.
If he wasn’t going to sleep, no one else would sleep peacefully either. Tonight, quite a few people were fated to lie awake.
After a while, he turned back around, eyes sweeping between the white tiger and Ji Tianjin. “At first, I thought exposing the truth didn’t matter… but I’ve changed my mind.”
The Flower Demon Clan had never figured out how he escaped back then—but now, a ready-made story practically wrote itself.
For example: the person entangled with him back then was Ji Tianjin. The best proof of their relationship was that Ji Tianjin risked everything to rescue him. As for that human exorcist—both ability and gender ruled him out as Su Cha’s type.
Anyone with eyes could tell who liked who.
Nice.
As for how to spread the story, that was still up for discussion.
Su Cha was just about to delve into that with Ji Tianjin when he noticed something: the display on Ji Tianjin’s mechanical glove had never gone dark.
“What are you doing?”
“Recording.” Ji Tianjin replied coolly, “So we can let teacher hear it when he gets here.”
What he was recording was mainly Su Cha’s story about being silenced and wronged.
Ji Tianjin was worried that even his harshest strategies against the enemy might not go far enough. If some punishment fell short, then this recording would allow Cyril to pick up where he left off. Ji Tianjin had full faith that once Cyril heard it, Su Cha’s old enemies would live to regret ever setting foot in this world.
Su Cha let out a dry laugh.
He had never told Cyril the full story, mostly because he had a feeling that once Cyril found out, things would spiral out of control.
Clearly, Ji Tianjin had no such qualms—and was calmly pushing the matter to the extreme.
“If you want the world to know what really happened, I can hack the platform and livestream it across the entire net,” Ji Tianjin offered another option. “Or we can pick a place you like and grab someone in the know as our breakthrough.”
