Chapter 10: Repulsion

Chapter 10: Repulsion

Xu Qingran, of course, had no children.

He had none in his previous life, and certainly none in this one.

By now, he could pretty much guess that most of the people detained in the Tower of Evil were mentally disturbed. He had seen a few who claimed to see ghosts, but this one seemed particularly agitated by his presence.

Listening to the murmurs of the unfamiliar man in the cell and his terror upon seeing him, Xu Qingran didn't retreat. Instead, like a nosy bystander, he deliberately took a few steps closer. The man, as if seeing a death-dealing ghost, started kowtowing even more frantically, his head banging loudly against the floor, his forehead quickly turning red, yet he refused to stop.

Xu Qingran didn't know who the man was referring to, but he had little respect for people like that.

What, you kill someone with a knife when you're sober, and then want to claim you were possessed by a ghost afterward?

He crouched down and beckoned to the man inside the cell.

Perhaps it was the first time someone had responded to him this way, the balding man slowly crawled over, his eyes filled with fear and confusion.

Xu Qingran, with a cold face, lowered his voice and said, "Begging won’t help."

"Both of you will die, just wait, I'll come for you tonight." He then stretched out his hand towards him and put on a serious expression, putting on a ghostly act.

System: "..."

???

...

Xu Qingran was eventually dragged away by the furious staff.

As they pulled him away, they snapped, "You... you, you knew he was mentally unstable and fragile, why did you deliberately scare him?"

"Now look, you gave him a heart attack, and we have to go through the trouble of sending him to the medical department!"

Xu Qingran replied earnestly, "Ah, I didn't know, did you tell me about this?"

"I didn’t mean to; I thought he was just messing with me."

The staff member opened his mouth but couldn't find the words to respond.

...Isn’t this obvious to anyone with eyes?

Xu Qingran followed the staff member who had been leading him all along, passed through two security doors, and stopped in front of an empty cell.

The environment inside the cell was fairly clean, with a metal bunk bed covered with a thin mattress. Across the room lay a gaunt male prisoner, motionless, unsure if he was dead or alive. On either side, one was sobbing, and the other was cackling wildly.

It was said that the decision to bring him to this place today was made by Interrogator Niu, who had questioned him. Even all the punishments he would receive before leaving the Tower of Evil, and the results of the tests he’d face in the future, had to be approved by him, with him making the final judgment.

The cell door was activated with an energy-sealed lock, and the sound of the staff member’s footsteps faded away.

Xu Qingran sat on the cold, hard iron bed, resting his chin on one hand, gazing out at the cityscape through the small window.

He thought to himself, he’d eventually kill that interrogator.

"By the way, host, aren't you in pain?" The system’s worried voice suddenly rang in his head.

He looked down at his other hand, where the stinging pain still lingered and the uncontrollable trembling beneath the skin.

"It hurts a lot."

He responded, recalling the day he transmigrated.

From that day, he noticed that this body was far more sensitive to pain and other external forces than his previous one. Even the gentlest pinch could leave a bruise. Thus, even the smallest pain was amplified several times over.

Back in his previous life, when he first acquired the lightning-based ability, he also experienced a similar situation. The electric shocks he endured were dozens of times more excruciating than the bracelet's punishment.

With this in mind, he raised the hand adorned with the new bracelet, slowly clenched his fist before slamming it hard against the nearby wall. The wall, a blend of metal and stone, stood unyielding, while his knuckles slowly flushed a faint red.

A sharp pain shot through his muscles, accompanied by the familiar surge of electric current. Yet a smirk curled his lips, a glint of ruthlessness in his eyes.

"Still, it's a useful tool for adapting to this body."

This body was far too weak. Now, it had gained a bit more strength thanks to the heightened level of the spiritual pool, but it was still far from the ideal state needed to fully harness his abilities. He needed not only to acclimate it to pain but also to train it rigorously.

·

In his days at the Tower of Evil, Shen Tingyu roamed from Tower 5 to Tower 3.

The towers' vast expanse meant he could only conduct a cursory inspection of a few key areas.

His true destination was Tower 2, reserved solely for Type E users—criminals with blood on their hands.

Tower 2 was often shrouded in a deathly silence. Prisoners were isolated in multiple closed cells, with only small iron windows, shielded by electronic energy, to keep them from suffocating.

Shen Tingyu walked alone through the desolate space, where patrol staff were scarce. His military boots echoed softly yet deeply on the smooth floor. Yet, the prisoners, sharp and alert, quickly noticed the movement, a sensation all too familiar to them.

They approached the small windows, their gazes a mix of fear and hatred as the handsome figure passed by.

Type E users were inherently intolerant of others like them. Like two tigers vying for the same mountain, they would clash violently upon meeting, fighting to the death until one prevailed.

As part of the Empire's ranks, Shen Tingyu stood at the pinnacle of Type E users.

Most of the Type E users who had been in Tower 2 for a long time had been trained by him. So they hated him but couldn't help fearing him, only able to express their anger through their eyes.

After all, if they dared to utter a single word, this devil could really pull them out of their cells and use his spiritual and physical strength to suppress them, making them experience what true spiritual fear was.

Type E users never knew mercy.

Of course, there were also newcomers who had just entered the Tower of Evil, still holding onto their arrogant and domineering attitudes.

They didn't know about Shen Tingyu's perversity and ruthlessness. They would glare at him with aggressive eyes and even curse at him—

"Shen Tingyu, you useless trash!"

"You're also a Type E user, yet you choose to be the Empire's lapdog, I spit on you!"

After the man with a stubbled face finished these two sentences, the floor of Tower 2 instantly fell into a hellish silence.

Even the sound of flipping pages stopped.

In the corridor, the man in dark golden military uniform stopped his steps.

Then he walked to the cell of the stubbled man, still wearing that leisurely smile, like an elegant and polite nobleman.

The cell door opened, and the Type E user who had only been in for a few months rushed out with killing intent, holding a short dagger that he had somehow smuggled in, which could be connected to his spiritual power.

The glowing blade stabbed fiercely at the man's vital points in the corridor. However, the intense spiritual attack was caught and blocked by the other party in time, as if he had already seen through all his actions. In an instant, he was thrown to the ground.

He got up to counterattack but couldn't even touch the hem of his clothes. By the time he was drenched in sweat, he realized he had been played like a dog.

The bearded man's eyes burned with rage. Confronting such a top-tier Type E user, he couldn't resist the urge to destroy his opponent. Yet, even with his weapon in hand, every surprise attack was perfectly anticipated, and he was thrown to the ground once again.

Even the tightly gripped dagger in his hand had vanished into thin air.

Just as he was about to get up to search for it, his hand, barely off the ground, was suddenly stabbed. He had no time to struggle or fight back before a foot accurately stomped on his chest. A powerful burst of mental energy followed the crushing blow, penetrating his mental defenses in an instant.

A few ribs cracked.

"Even among Type E users, there's a hierarchy," Shen Tingyu's deep and pleasant voice leisurely sounded from above. "And you're at the bottom."

"You've got strength, but it's all brute force—no finesse."

He bent down, pressing on his wrist. The seemingly effortless force rendered him immobile.

The dagger was yanked out in one swift move. He chuckled softly, his tone calm but laced with ice: "Besides, if I weren't the Empire's lapdog, how else could I legally beat you here?"

Shen Tingyu was the epitome of an extremist.

Of course, he didn't like Type E users either, to the point of outright hatred.

He was just better than most at keeping his instincts in check, but for those who didn't know how to respect and actively sought trouble, he wouldn't continue to restrain himself.

He tugged at his collar, his eyes slowly turning crimson: "So, which hand was it that held the knife just now?"

In the empty corridor, the man's voice grew hoarse from screaming. The others in the cells stood silently by the doors, saying nothing. Some, scarred by trauma, huddled in the corners, as if returning to that ignorant night.

Until the device in Shen Tingyu's pocket suddenly beeped a warning.

For the first time, he stopped before silencing the Type E user completely. His azure eyes shed their ferocity, gradually regaining clarity and rationality.

He stood still, gazing down at the gasping man for a moment, then reached into his pocket and took out the beeping device.

A tiny device, no bigger than his palm, its screen unsurprisingly displaying fluctuating curves.

Two of them.

This was something given to him by the staff of the Tower of Evil, used to monitor the status of the two punishment bracelets of the potential Type E user he was responsible for assessing.

Fluctuations meant the other was acting up again.

Shen Tingyu looked down at it, and suddenly laughed.

This was easily the umpteenth time tonight, but he clearly knew what the owner of those two bracelets was doing.

Because many years ago, he had done exactly the same thing in this tower.

Shen Tingyu watched for a while before putting the small device away again, then opened his communicator and connected to the management department of Tower 2: "39th floor, severe injury, emergency medical assistance needed."

"Ah, received! We're really sorry, the Type E users in Tower 2 have been disrespectful to you again, General. Are you injured?"

"Thank you, I'm fine," he responded with a light laugh. "The newcomers don't know the rules, just need to be educated."

Thanks to General Shen's watchful eye, Tower 2 stayed calm and quiet tonight.

·

"Hahahaha, oh dear, hahahaha..."

In a single room in Tower 4, Xu Qingran, dark circles under his eyes, sat by the window, clearly in a foul mood.

Ever since he moved to this place, he hasn't been able to sleep well.

The crazy person next door, whose gender is unclear, deliberately laughs as if they've won the lottery during rest times, disturbing his sleep.

On the other side, there's an old man, also out of his mind, who yells out the window every day: "Wife, wife? Are you coming to get me?"

Otherwise, he huddles in the corner, crying pitifully.

He glanced at the partition bar with the cell on the right, where the laughing maniac was again gripping the bars, laughing at him with a provocative look.

After a few seconds of staring, he also laughed, stood up, and walked over to him.

"Stretch out your hand, I've got something for you," he said quietly.

Hearing about a little gift, the other person stopped making noise and laughed, extending his hand.

Xu Qingran lowered his eyes, slightly tugged at the corner of his mouth, grabbed the outstretched palm, and suddenly pinched one of the fingers, forcefully bending it back—

Crack—the sound of a bone breaking.

A piercing scream instantly echoed through the entire corridor, and even the other crazies in the cells briefly stopped their antics upon hearing such a terrifying scream.

Xu Qingran, without changing his expression, grabbed another finger and repeated the action without hesitation. When the other person was in too much pain to scream, he coldly asked, "Why aren't you laughing anymore?"

"I want to hear you laugh now," he said, reaching his other hand through the bars to grab the other person's messy, unkempt hair.

He slightly curved his eyes, smiling so charmingly that the maniac was momentarily stunned.

The next second, his head was forcefully slammed against the bars, the pain making him feel as if he had seen his ancestors.

The old man who had been whimpering in the cell immediately covered his mouth with both hands, wide-eyed, not daring to make another sound.

"Laugh," he commanded.

The captured maniac, unable to escape, could only force a smile uglier than a frown, stammering, "You, you... bad guy..."

Xu Qingran replied, "Yes, just like that, spread the word about me, tell everyone you meet."

After saying that, he fiercely smashed the other person's forehead again, knocking him out cold.

The area instantly fell silent.

But there were too many noisy crazies near his floor. After a moment's thought, he came to the door with several laser-like, aggressive anti-escape features, and slowly rolled up the long sleeves of his coat.

The system, seeing him like this, cautiously asked, "Host, what are you up to?"

"I've figured it out, the damn inspector sent me here to clean up the place, right?"

"Today, I'll teach them how to shut up."

Mental patients are those whose mental pools are permanently damaged due to various reasons, causing mental disorders. They can no longer use their mental powers effectively, so the protective doors in the 4th Tower's cells are aggressive but not overly powerful.

Moreover, his fever has gone down, and his mental pool has temporarily stabilized at level B.

Using his mental power to get out, he would at most suffer minor injuries.

No one knows what the prisoners on this floor of the 4th Tower experienced tonight.

So much so that the entire latter half of the night was as quiet as a dead city, until the next morning when someone came to inspect and found that many of the usually noisy and arrogant prisoners were lying in the corners as if seriously injured, unwilling to move.

"Man, everyone's on their best behavior today, huh?"

Then, as he arrived in front of Xu Qingran's cell, he glanced casually and suddenly exclaimed—

"What the hell!"

Xu Qingran finally had a good night's sleep and woke up to the staff's startled shout. The cuts on his body, still bloody, were beginning to scab. He sat on the iron bed and gave a casual wave to the shocked staff.

"Good morning."

·

The staff finally called in the medical team to apply medicine and provide simple treatment for the mysterious wounds on Xu Qingran's hands and legs.

Even the bystander cringed as the medicine was poured on, but Xu Qingran's expression didn't flicker.

The people in the cells on either side had huddled into the farthest corners, staring at the unnervingly calm young man like they'd seen a ghost.

"...Although this is only Tower 4, the security doors aren't something to mess with. Don't try anything next time," the inspecting staff kindly reminded.

Xu Qingran answered meekly, "Got it."

Next time, he'd do it again.

After a few people helped him with his wounds and left, he was just about to go back to sleep when he suddenly noticed someone still lingering.

Outside the door stood a young guard in a silver dragon uniform, who gave him a smile when their eyes locked.

Xu Qingran didn't recognize him, but he thought he might've seen this guy during the transport.

The newcomer spoke, "I heard that because your bracelet's been showing some crazy readings lately, your examiner slapped you with a day of no food yesterday?"

Xu Qingran shrugged it off.

He'd gone without food for four or five days back in the worst of it; a day without food was nothing.

Just as he thought this, the guy outside the cell held out a piece of bread: "Want some?"

...

Wasting food goes against his principles.

So of course, he couldn't say no.

Xu Qingran didn't hesitate, took it, tore open the bag, and started taking slow, deliberate bites.

His cheeks puffed out a little as he ate, expressionless but oddly endearing.

Although the other person had given him food, he kept his guard up, still wary of the guy's motives.

Until the man asked again, "Xu Qingran, don't you remember me?"