Chapter 223
by Need_More_SleepChapter 223: Weather Report!
The weather forecast got slapped in the face again. The typhoon didn’t move in the predicted direction at all. One second they said there would be no rain today, and the next second, heavy rain came pouring down.
Then, based on the latest meteorological analysis, they hurriedly updated the forecast with information about heavy rainfall for the next three days.
But the rain stopped again.
The sky remained oppressively dark. The clouds had gathered into a terrifyingly thick mass. What should have been a blazing hot summer noon now looked like six or seven in the evening.
With even the weather forecast being untrustworthy, it wasn’t surprising that the typhoon, which was supposedly going to brush past, ended up arriving right overhead. Schools were closed, shops shut down—only some unfortunate company employees still remained at work, diligently grinding away.
“A man who controls the wind?”
That’s quite the coincidence. The weather these past two days has been especially weird. Saying the typhoon was man-made wouldn’t even be strange.
Deliberately locking down flights to keep planes grounded, just to trap them here?
With that level of power and range, if it really were man-made, then the person behind it definitely wasn’t some small fry. Yet, none of them had even heard of such a person.
It was understandable that Okulet hadn’t heard of it—he’d been unemployed for six years. But even the eldest aunt from the logistics team had no clue.
Had the Easter faction gotten so arrogant that they were now grabbing people openly in the metropolis? Or was it snatched from the Lasvedo family?
Okulet didn’t feel any danger.
The old man’s face was very unpleasant—whether it was because the authority of the Lasvedo family had been provoked, or because his prized aged wine had been ruined, it wasn’t clear.
The kind-hearted girl who came in to give a warning was tied up and hanging upside down from a ceiling beam. Mi Xiaoliu was gently pushing her to make her swing.
This girl wasn’t completely hopeless—at least she knew to give them a heads-up when something happened.
But…
“Eighty thousand for one jar.”
The old man expressionlessly stated the price.
The old man clearly had no intention of being lenient.
The girl widened her eyes. “Even if you sold me, I wouldn’t be worth eighty thousand! Your family is so rich, and you still care about this small amount?”
Mi Xiaoliu stopped pushing her and turned to hide behind Okulet.
I didn’t want to pay.
Okulet placed a hand on her head to comfort her. “Don’t worry, you’re family. You don’t have to pay. If he dies, part of the inheritance still goes to you.”
“Mm.” Mi Xiaoliu relaxed.
“When I die, it all goes into the grave with me. Don’t even think of getting a cent.” The old man glared at him.
“What happened to the patrolling officers who were attacked?”
“They were paralyzed by electric shocks. One of them died, but it wasn’t the electricity—it was a stab to the heart with a sharp weapon after being paralyzed.”
The speaker was Mi Xiaoliu’s eldest aunt, a short-haired, thin woman.
“Vivi was there too. She was also electrocuted. From the surveillance footage, it doesn’t look like something stopped him from delivering the finishing blow—it seems he just chose to kill one person and then left on his own.”
“Was there something special about the person who got killed?”
“He was the captain of the patrol team.”
“You mean… he could tell who had the highest status?”
“Gentlemen, unless it’s just the blood rushing to my head affecting my eyesight… is it foggy outside?”
Prompted by the tied-up thief girl, everyone looked toward the window.
The wind had inexplicably stopped, replaced by thick fog.
The kind of thick where you couldn’t see anything beyond two meters.
The eldest uncle sniffed the air. “Just fog. Not smog.”
It seemed that person’s ability wasn’t just controlling the wind.
“Manipulation of weather?”
That really was a troublesome ability, though it was unclear how far this person could take it.
Using abnormally dense fog to conceal one’s movements was indeed a decent tactic—at least, without considering fog-piercing equipment.
Okulet expressionlessly opened his phone and looked at the red dot displayed on the map.
So, what was the point of this?
Okulet lightly patted Mi Xiaoliu on the head and once again asked an absurd-sounding question.
“Can you put all the fog inside?”
His ability allowed him to erase fog—even a typhoon, he could make it disappear.
If it were just clearing a patch in front of him, it was fine. But trying to clear it all out at once might blow up the entire metropolis.
His power wasn’t like Mi Xiaoliu’s system space, which worked directly on individual objects.
Mi Xiaoliu didn’t answer. She just stared blankly at the fog above.
She reached out as if trying to grab something, but didn’t open the system space to collect it.
—
Fitness Plaza.
The faceless man leaned against the horizontal bar, flipping through something on a smartphone as thick as a brick.
“Hey friend, out in such thick fog? What do you do for work?”
A portly middle-aged man reached out and patted the faceless man on the shoulder.
In his forties, with thinning yet noticeably glossy hair, he wore a white shirt, red tie, and frameless glasses perched on his nose. He looked every bit like an aging CEO straight out of a TV drama.
“Garbage disposal.”
A mechanical voice, surprisingly.
“Sanitation worker, huh?” The middle-aged man chuckled. “Then why are you wearing a mask to scare people? Only psychic cops, super criminals, or… Defectives dress like that, no?”
The faceless man didn’t answer. He glanced up at the man, then went back to scrolling on his phone.
“What, have you ever lost control before?”
His silence only seemed to embolden the other man further.
“I’ve always wondered why the Control Bureau even allows mutated freaks who’ve lost control to keep living. If you’re just weapons, why compete in other industries? ‘Ability users’—let’s be real, you’re just mutants. What do you think, Defective?”
Demon Hunters.
It sounded both cringey and badass, but in reality, it was just an online nickname for people who discriminated against ability users—like “time cops” or “meme police.”
Compared to those who’d actually witnessed an ability user lose control, most were just middle-aged corporate drones who’d been replaced by ability users.
Big cities were already cutthroat. How were they supposed to find new jobs at their age? Slaving away for decades, only to be replaced by some young punk was bitter enough—but when that young punk was an ability user, the resentment that should’ve been directed at their bosses instantly shifted targets.
Still, outright face-to-face mockery like this was rare.
This guy wasn’t just mocking for the sake of it.
The faceless man finally looked up from his phone.
As he pocketed it, the middle-aged man caught a fleeting glimpse of what looked like a list of names, each accompanied by a photo.
The faceless man scanned his surroundings.
Hidden in the fog, multiple gun barrels were trained on him.
These were extremists—far worse than Demon Hunters.
In broad daylight, in the heart of the metropolis, they wouldn’t dare act so brazenly. But this unnatural fog was the perfect cover.
“You want to die, is that it?” The faceless man finally responded.
Even with guns aimed at him.
“Oh-ho?” The middle-aged man stepped back. “Easy there, kid. No need to get aggressive.”
Getting the reaction they wanted, the others didn’t hesitate—they pulled their triggers.
But the guns didn’t fire.
It was bizarre. More precisely, the bullets had misfired because the gunpowder inside the casings had been drenched.
Disarmed, there was only one possible outcome when facing a powerful ability user.
“Weather Report!”
Predictably, it was a one-sided slaughter.
They didn’t even realize what was happening before inhaling lethal gas and collapsing.
Ignoring the others, the faceless man grabbed the middle-aged man by his tie and delivered a dozen sharp slaps to his face.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
“Trash. You disgust me.”
The middle-aged man clutched his head.
“I-I’m sorry!”
He folded instantly.
“Spineless coward. On your knees! You want me to rip out your pig tongue, you motherfucker?!”
The faceless man mercilessly kicked him to the ground with his rubber boots.
He didn’t hold back—savage kicks rained down on the man’s face, not avoiding even the most vulnerable parts.
Until his head was a bloody mess and he lost consciousness.
Even if the thick fog obscured the violence, the sounds alone made it unmistakable.
A young mother, who had just picked up her daughter from kindergarten due to the bad weather, hurried away with her child in her arms. In her rush, she accidentally let go of the balloon the kindergarten had given out, sending it floating into the sky.
A gust of wind carried it straight into the faceless man’s hand as he emerged from the fog.
The mother immediately shielded her daughter, staring at him in terror.
The faceless man held out the balloon.
“Thank you,” the little girl said, reaching for it.
Pop!
The balloon exploded.
The faceless man tilted his head, then glanced behind him.
[Translator’s Note: See the index page for this Novel if you want to see the Amazon Link for the eBooks.]
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