The Daily Life Of A Cyberpunk Magician
Chapter 66 - 67: Saline and Adrenaline

Chapter 66: Chapter 67: Saline and Adrenaline

July 31st.

A day before dawn,

after Kirie had left, someone knocked on the door of the Magic House.

Jiang Shu opened the door to find Su Xiaoou standing there.

"What brings you here so late at night?" Su Xiaoou looked at him but didn’t enter.

"The matter of Jabba Clark," Jiang Shu smiled.

Su Xiaoou immediately walked in.

"Sit," Jiang Shu gestured to the seat opposite his desk, then walked over to his Magic Cabinet, opened the innermost drawer, and took out a set of notes.

Returning to his seat, he handed the notes to Su Xiaoou and said, "Read it, burn it, and then you may ask questions."

"Oh," Su Xiaoou took the paper notes, glanced at them, and tossed them back, "I can’t read."

Jiang Shu: "..."

"I’ve constructed a framework, but it needs the right timing," he continued.

"Framework?" Su Xiaoou didn’t understand.

"Yes, framework," Jiang Shu tapped the paper documents on the desk, "Jabba Clark, the second-in-command of the Black Fire Gang, is quite powerful near Twist Street in Zone E, connected with both lawful and criminal networks. Plus, he’s openly an investor in several entertainment clubs. So if he died, his cause of death would be thoroughly investigated."

"So?" Su Xiaoou furrowed her brow.

"Creating an accident is too difficult, and faking a suicide is impossible, so there’s only one possibility left," Jiang Shu shrugged, "Pin it on the Deception Group."

"Hm?"

"Just like the credentials given to me by the police station, Crime Consultant," he said with a smile, his eyes narrowing like a sly fox, "I understand Deception cases, so naturally I know how to create Deception cases."

Jiang Shu went on, "This is the initial theoretical framework—hitchhike murder. As soon as the Deception Group offers us a lift, we can start the plan."

"What should I do then?" Su Xiaoou looked at him.

"As a Crime Consultant, I only provide guidance, not actual help," Jiang Shu spoke slowly, "But you’re different, you’re special."

"Special?" Su Xiaoou repeated.

Jiang Shu smiled, "Let’s say, grand opening discounts."

"Hm..." Su Xiaoou was helplessly impressed.

This was a guideline Jiang Shu had set just a few days ago, with the first rule being never to act personally, always observing from a safe distance, never letting the fire reach him.

He could offer crime consultation to others but must not get involved as a result.

And his second rule was, all bad deeds were done by the Deception Group.

Deception cases, who else to blame but them?

They were just like a ready-made trash bin.

"Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Ding," Jiang Shu snapped his fingers.

The four Tablet Spirits understood and shut down all electronic devices in the Magic House, drew the curtains, and darkness instantly enveloped the room.

A light from above shone down on the center of the desk, with Jiang Shu and Su Xiaoou separated by the light at each end, their bodies half-submerged in darkness.

As the master of control, Jiang Shu considered atmosphere to be crucial when discussing such matters, necessitating a setting reminiscent of the old secret meetings.

"What should I do?" Su Xiaoou didn’t pay attention to her surroundings, just staring straight at Jiang Shu.

She had known Jiang Shu for only a week, but she chose to trust him.

"It’s simple, use Time Misdirection," Jiang Shu suddenly thought of something amusing and smiled, "Let’s give Wolf a chance to show his face."

"Time Misdirection?" Su Xiaoou murmured, tilting her head to look at Jiang Shu.

For some reason, seeing Jiang Shu’s child-like smile, she felt as though she was witnessing a young god.

If there really were gods in this world.

——

August 1st. Evening.

At this moment,

In the suburbs, a basement, gloomy, ungoverned.

She had found this place, well aware from her experience in Zone F that no one would meddle with a corpse that turned up here.

He walked down the corridor of the basement, where even the light was dim and moist, and he could hear the sound of dripping water from the depths of the darkness, along with the rustling movements of some creature.

In contrast to the tidy streets of Zones A, B, and C, this place truly had the ambiance of a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Simple descriptions of filth and disorder didn’t do it justice.

Every so often, he spotted sporadic bloodstains and yellowish-brown marks, the stench forcing him to cover his face and hurry away.

"!"

Suddenly, he saw a dirty, smelly blanket and its owner—a gaunt figure with a starved look—sitting on the right side of the corridor, draped casually with the blanket, leaving much of his skin exposed, unclear whether he felt cold or hot.

It was only when he passed by this person that the wanderer’s lifeless eyes showed some strange color, and then sized him up with a gaze as deep and bottomless as a dry well.

Such a person was already dead, only yet to be buried.

He remained expressionless.

This indeed was Lonely City, where heaven and hell coexisted, but heaven was heaven, and hell was hell.

Soon, he found the uninhabited basement she had told him about, she said, the wanderer who lived here had frozen to death last winter.

But winters in Lonely City weren’t cold.

He pushed open the door, and she was standing inside, her gaze fixed on the hospital bed in the center of the room.

"Mmm!" Under the dim light, the bald man restrained to the bed looked terrified and struggled fiercely, but it was futile.

The man’s mouth was sealed and he couldn’t speak.

She asked, "Do you remember me?"

The man’s gaze faltered, then he shook his head repeatedly.

"That’s good." She actually smiled, then looked at the man with an icy gaze, "Do you know why I sealed your mouth? Actually, I would really like to hear your screams."

"Just like, you never gave any of your victims a chance to plead..." she replied, a mocking smile curling her lips, "I have no intention of giving you a chance to beg either."

With that, she stepped forward, but was stopped by him, who was standing by, watching.

"Wait a moment." He halted her.

The bald man seemed to see a glimmer of hope.

"I brought a little gift." He continued, moving forward to insert a needle into the man on the bed, one end piercing into his vein, the other attached to a bag of IV fluid.

Then, he took out another injection and administered it into the man under his horrified gaze.

"This is saline." He pointed to the bag of clear fluid, "It will allow you to endure longer."

"This is adrenaline." He shook the emptied syringe in his hand. "It will make your nerves more excitable, your nerves will greedily absorb every moment of pain, and you will not become numb to it."

He turned to her with a gentlemanly smile and said, "Now, it’s your turn."

After that, he stepped out of the room and carefully closed the door behind him.

——

An hour later, she walked out, dazed, and looked at him waiting at the door.

"Done?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

She took out a box, "He used this to buy his life, it’s filled with Black Silver, a pound’s worth."

"Someone commissioned the collection," she continued.

He took the box, "Okay, I got it."

"Snap—" He snapped his fingers next to her ear and caught her as she fainted on cue.

He whispered in her ear, "When you wake up, you will find that your vengeance has been exacted, and you will forget all the details of tonight. From now on, your Sister Ran will be your motivation to move forward, not your shackle."

"Good night, sweet dreams."