I am still here.

When I saw that, besides the shadows of Jin Ze and me, there was another shadow cast to the side, I was struck motionless. Who the hell did that extra shadow belong to? Was it a person or a ghost?

Then, out of nowhere, a thought flashed through my mind. Earlier, Kong Wei had been so terrified; I’d thought he was afraid of me. But now it seemed clear he was actually scared of the owner of that shadow.

What kind of monster could have frightened him to such an extent, to the point that he gouged out his own eyes just to avoid seeing it?

Instinctively, I wanted to turn my head to look, to see what was really going on. But Jin Ze’s glance urged me to stay calm and pretend I hadn’t noticed anything.

He then feigned nonchalance and spoke directly to Kong Wei, “Kong Wei, you’ve lost your mind. I’m placing you under arrest.”

With that, Jin Ze pretended to lunge at Kong Wei, but in a flash, he spun around, swift as lightning. In the same instant, he cocked his gun, folding his arm with practiced precision, and aimed it behind me.

I had to admit, this sequence of movements was breathtakingly impressive. My fear was instantly replaced by a sense of security.

I immediately ran toward Jin Ze, and as soon as I reached his side, I spun around to see for myself.

But when I looked, I was dumbfounded. There was no one there. So it hadn’t been someone sneaking up behind us.

Yet the shadow remained. Could it really be a ghostly apparition?

A chill crept up my spine. Suddenly, Jin Ze aimed his gun at empty air and fired without hesitation.

As the gunshot rang out, I instinctively looked up. I quickly spotted a body hanging from the rooftop of the abandoned factory in a grotesque posture, and Jin Ze’s shot struck it squarely.

The body’s position was bizarre, suspended in an almost S-shaped curve. Both arms were broken and twisted behind its back, as if it were flying.

Clearly, it was just a corpse dangling from above, and I immediately realized that its vertical shadow had fallen to the ground, making it seem as though someone was standing beside us. Someone had deliberately hung the corpse that way, likely to draw our attention and frighten us. But beyond fear, there had to be a deeper motive—perhaps to distract us before striking.

As I pondered this, a flash of cold steel swept across the rooftop. In the same instant, a deadly glint shot toward us—a weapon thrown in our direction.

“Chen Mu, get down!” Jin Ze’s urgent voice rang in my ear.

I instinctively dove to the right, rolling several times.

No sooner had I finished rolling than I heard a loud thud nearby. Reflexively, I looked up—and was stunned by what I saw.

Kong Wei, who had already gouged out his own eyes, suffered yet another brutal blow. A blackened kitchen knife was embedded in his forehead, splitting his skull with a deep gash. Blood, mixed with milky fluid, streamed down from the wound, and his empty sockets continued to bleed profusely. The sight was so horrific that I actually felt a pang of sympathy for him.

Yet Kong Wei was still laughing—not with a sinister edge, but with a sense of relief, as if delivered from torment. Soon, he collapsed to the ground in a faint.

It must have been whoever was hiding on the rooftop who killed Kong Wei with the kitchen knife—a ruthless individual, capable of a hundred ways to kill, yet choosing to split Kong Wei’s skull with a thrown blade. The brutality was staggering.

Who was this person? Suddenly, the image of Scar flashed through my mind. Could it be that Scar, not wanting Kong Wei to reveal more about him, had silenced him for good?

While I was still thinking, Jin Ze pushed off the ground and dashed swiftly toward the stairwell, racing up toward the rooftop of the abandoned factory.

Just as he was about to disappear from sight, his voice echoed in my ear, “Chen Mu, protect yourself. Call Team Leader Fang and the others.”

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and started running out of the factory. But before I could find Fang Qinghe’s number, I sensed someone behind me. I whirled around and threw a punch.

My fist struck something hard, sending pain shooting through my hand. I had hit the flat of the kitchen knife—Kong Wei had followed me, and unbelievably, he was still alive.

But my blow drove the knife deeper into his skull. Blood gushed forth, and this time, he collapsed for good, never to rise again.

A mix of unease and astonishment washed over me. Only now did I realize that, despite all I’d been through and all my fear, I’d always come out unharmed. My sensitivity to danger and occasional bursts of reaction seemed almost superhuman. Had I once been a monster myself?

That thought had barely formed when I sensed someone standing behind me once more. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I instinctively started to turn—only to have a damp cloth clamped over my mouth and nose. I couldn’t breathe. A moment later, I blacked out.

I have no idea how long I was out. When I came to, my mind was blank, unable to recall what had just happened. All I felt was pain.

Gradually, memories came flooding back. I remembered what had happened, and tried to leap up, only to discover I was strapped to a chair. My arms and legs were bound, my mouth stuffed with cloth. The room was pitch dark, and I had no idea where I was—only that I’d been kidnapped.

I let out a muffled cry. Suddenly, with a sharp click, a harsh white light flickered on—an old incandescent bulb, nearly obsolete. I seemed to be in a basement.

I didn’t know who had brought me here, but at that moment, I suddenly realized, damn, my clothes had been stripped off, and I was left wearing nothing but underwear.

My heart skipped a beat. Had I been kidnapped by some pervert? Was it that madman?

Just then, footsteps echoed, and a beam of white light swept across my eyes. I saw a man walking toward me, holding a kitchen knife.

He was not the madman. This man was massive, and when I saw his face, I shuddered. A deep scar slashed diagonally from his forehead to his chin, as though a single stroke had nearly cut his face in two. The resulting asymmetry, combined with the ghastly scar, made him look like a monster.

In an instant, I knew who he was—Scar. He must have been the one who killed Kong Wei. He had been hiding in the abandoned factory, keeping Kong Wei under surveillance. The things Kong Wei had done to me must have been under Scar’s orders. Scar had been testing me.

He came to stand before me, radiating an intense aura of violence—not the cold, clinical menace of the madman, but a brutal slaughterer’s bloodlust. It made me think of a butcher.

I instinctively struggled against my bonds, unable to meet his gaze. He tore the cloth from my mouth, lifted my chin with the tip of his knife, and said, “Chen Mu, we meet again.”

I didn’t know him, but I understood his meaning—I was his opponent in this game of murder.

I gave no reply. He jabbed my head up with the knife and continued, “I heard from Kong Wei that you lost your memory, that you’ve become a coward. I didn’t believe it. But now I see it’s all true. Chen Mu, I never thought I, Scar, would see you brought so low.”

Still, I said nothing. I didn’t know what to say, and I feared that any wrong word would cost me my head.

He kept talking to himself, “My task is almost complete. Everyone marked for death is gone—except you. By the rules, your life isn’t mine to take, but as you are now, you’re not fit to play this killing game anymore. I’ll end you myself. Chen Mu, die, you coward!”

With that, he raised the kitchen knife high, ready to bring it down on my head.

Terror seized me. Facing death, I blurted out, “No, don’t kill me! Don’t kill me—what do you want? Let’s talk this over—”

Scar glared at me with his hideous, sinister face, full of contempt.

At that moment, a familiar, magnetic voice echoed from nearby: “There’s no need to beg him. I’m still here.”

The madman—the lunatic!

He spoke again, this time with a voice no longer gentle, but filled with deadly resolve.

He said, “Even if Chen Mu is no longer himself, I, Bai Ye, will always be Bai Ye. If you dare kill him, I will kill you!”