Capítulo 21: Chapter 21: Wilson in the Underground Passage
Target confirmed, Mr. Wilson, and a pair of metal wings!
"I need to use this wooden box, and I will try my best to find your husband, but I can't guarantee that I will definitely find him." Holding the wooden box, Wen Wen walked out of the villa.
"I hope you can definitely help me find him. What would I do without him?"
Melissa grasped Wen Wen's hand, said sorrowfully, and simultaneously slipped an envelope into Wen Wen's hand. Wen Wen gently pinched it, felt its thickness, and his promise to Melissa became even more sincere.
Walking on the street, Wen Wen took out a small vest, an article of clothing that retained Wilson's scent, which could help Wen Wen locate Wilson.
Actually, the scent on the underwear was stronger… but Wen Wen did not want to sniff a man's underwear in the middle of the street.
Then, he deeply sniffed the wooden box. The wood had a unique fragrance, and the wings that had been kept in the box for years had likely absorbed some of that scent.
"With these two scents, though I can't directly locate him, I can at least pinpoint his direction and save quite a bit of trouble."
His keenly trained sense of smell came in handy here. Wen Wen chose a direction and chased after it. After covering a significant distance, the scent disappeared.
"Next, I'll have to rely on the old methods to find him."
After scanning his surroundings, Wen Wen entered a store. Before becoming a superpower user, he had been a detective, and searching for people, even without the aid of special abilities, was something he could manage.
Finding a person with distinct characteristics was not especially difficult for Wen Wen.
Following various clues, by nightfall, Wen Wen found an underground clinic.
Based on the information he gathered, this clinic specialized in shady deals. Criminals wanted by the police and members of the underworld from Furong River City liked to come here after getting injured.
Wen Wen knocked on the door but received no response. His pupils suddenly contracted as he smelled the scent of blood and... the rotting smell of humans!
He kicked the door open and was met with a scene inside the clinic resembling a slaughterhouse!
...
In an underground passage, a muscular Wilson, dressed in tight clothes, huddled in a corner, looking rather pitiful.
All his original clothes were covered in blood; this outfit belonged to the clinic's owner, hence the ill fit.
Wilson muttered to himself, "I don't know if you can understand, but could you not take action on your own all the time? If you don't want to get off me, then listen to me, okay?"
No response came from behind him, but the cold touch was real. These few days had been utterly insane for Wilson.
Truth be told, he wasn't even sure if he had gone mad himself.
Under his jacket, there was a large bulge that made him appear to have a severe hunchback.
But only Wilson knew that behind him was a pair of steel wings, unfolded and stretching over four meters wide!
He had purchased these wings from the chief of a Native Tribe in the Aifei Region. They were a sacred object worshipped by the tribe.
But the chief did not tell his tribesmen that he had sold the wings, he claimed they were stolen, so the people of the tribe searched everywhere nearby for traces of the wings.
They sent out messages, vowing to subject the thief who stole the sacred object to the most severe punishment unto death!
Though Wilson had some wealth, he did not want to face constant danger to his life, so he took his family and the steel wings and moved to the Capital District to live.
As for why he did not return the wings to the natives, he felt a faint connection with the wings when he bought them, and now that he had them, he was even less inclined to give them back.
He had carried the wings with him for over a year and though Wilson would stroke them alone during the quiet of the night, they never showed any sign of their marvels.
But a few days ago, while playing with them, he accidentally cut his finger on the wings, and then the wings attached themselves to his back and no matter what he tried, he could not remove them!
The wings had their own consciousness; they did not require Wilson's consent to act, so to keep his family out of danger, Wilson chose to leave home.
However, after a few days of adjustment, the wings became somewhat more restrained, at least when there was no severe provocation, they were willing to lie dormant on Wilson's back.
"In a few more days, a few more days... if it stops causing trouble, I want to go home for a visit, then leave here and find a place where there are no people, never to return."
Wilson did not want to be seen as a monster. On the first day the thing possessed him, he went to an underground doctor, hoping to have it separated from his back.
The doctor anesthetized Wilson until he was knocked out, and the wings seemed to have lost their vitality, but as the doctor approached Wilson with a scalpel, the wings suddenly lashed out, impaling the doctor, followed by a bloody massacre.
When Wilson woke up, he found that in this small underground clinic, there was no one else alive except for him.
It was then that Wilson realized it was basically impossible to remove this thing, and he should no longer think about returning to his family, as the thing on his back might take the life of someone close at any moment.
He only planned to return for a moment, to make arrangements with his wife and children, then to flee far away to a place where he couldn't harm anyone.
"Hey, look, there's a homeless old man sitting over there."
Sitting on the ground asleep, Wilson suddenly woke up and saw several young people with multicolored hair pointing at him.
He recognized the style; it seemed it had become popular in the Capital District in recent years, known as 'Slaughterhouse Nobles,' a way of dressing he personally disliked, but he respected others' choices and wouldn't criticize their attire.
Wilson ignored them and continued to bury his head in his knees, not in the mood to chat with these youngsters.
Now they liked to stand out, calling it identity, but one day they would realize how immature their current appearance really was.
"Tsk tsk, this black uncle seems pretty rich, I recognize that watch, looks like it's worth several thousand..."
The young men exchanged smiles, approached Wilson with a smirk, and said disdainfully, "Uncle, you don't look like a homeless man."
"What I look like is none of your business," Wilson snapped, his mood not very stable.
"Oh, tough talk, eh?"
A tall, thin youth with rainbow-colored hair pulled out a baton from his waist and poked it at Wilson's body.
At that instant, Wilson's back bulged!
Capítulo 22: Chapter 22: The Outbreak
Wilson suppressed the restless steel wings, and then pushed aside the stick, glaring at the youngsters surrounding him.
He somewhat understood that these youngsters were not just somewhat 'individualistic' as he had previously thought.
They had already upgraded that 'individualism' a step further, evolving into a new existence, the scum of society, contemptible and constantly despised by others.
In the future, they would suffer vicious beatings from society, but now, they posed a significant threat to ordinary people.
"I know what you want to do, you better leave now, or you'll be the ones to suffer," Wilson advised earnestly, hoping to avoid conflict if possible.
"If you understand, then give us some spending money, Huahua. It's dark and deserted here, nobody's around for miles, and whatever we do to you, no one will find out, so you'd better be sensible."
The rainbow-haired youth, seeing signs of Wilson softening, continued to threaten.
"I told you, get lost!"
Wilson roared, his temper already explosive, and the recent events pushing him nearly to the brink. With his usual temper, he would have already started fighting with these people, but he couldn't lay a hand on them.
The rainbow-haired youngster was startled by the roar, Wilson, having held a high position, had shouted with quite an imposing aura.
But he quickly realized that Wilson had fallen so low as to spend the night in an underground passage, plus he was a hunchback, what was this black man trying to prove?
He picked up the stick and struck Wilson on the head; his underlings also gathered around, punching and kicking Wilson.
Having not lived normally for several days, Wilson was exhausted and still had to suppress those steel wings, so he ended up being trampled under the feet of these youths, brutally beaten.
In the dimly lit underground passage, a type of violence that few people experience but that indeed happens every day was occurring.
Enduring the brutal beating, Wilson curled up, whispering to himself.
"Don't move, stay quiet, don't move, they don't deserve to die, they shouldn't die..."
Behind him, the metal wings trembled slightly, wanting to unfold and slice the surrounding frail flesh creatures into pieces.
But Wilson, with his back against the wall, tried his best to hold them off, to prevent them from unleashing their might, he felt that all he had to do was to endure until they left.
Over the past few days, he had managed to reach a certain agreement with the steel wings, so he could still barely control those metal wings.
Yet he didn't seesome faint black qi flashing in the eyes of these youngsters; they wouldn't stop until Wilson was beaten to death.
After a few hits, the rainbow-haired youth grew somewhat tired and stepped out of the beating circle, lit a cigarette, and enjoyed the cruel scene.
"What are you enduring now, do you think those scum of society are worth the pain and humiliation you're suffering?" A frivolous voice rang in Wilson's ears.
"Who are you?" Wilson asked, struggling to get the words out amidst the punches and kicks.
"Who I am is not important, what's important is who you are.
You are harboring a strength that these mortals do not possess, you should be above the common folk, an existence completely different from these mundane creatures.
Why suffer in this filthy place, enduring humiliation you shouldn't have to, follow your true feelings, show your true form!"
Accompanied by the bewitching words, the same black qi also appeared in Wilson's eyes, and his expression visibly turned merciless.
Whoosh!
A pair of immense and shiny metal wings unfurled behind Wilson, in the dim light, they looked as dazzling as an angel's wings.
With a few rapid flaps of the wings, the youths closest to Wilson were instantly severed, their blood splattering on the ground...
Wilson stood up, and the metal wings behind him became clear. Each wing was made up of twenty steel feathers of various sizes, these feathers were sharper than steel knives and were connected by rivets and chains. There was no transmission device on them, yet the wings were incredibly flexible, even more so than real bird wings.
"Actually, your words don't make much sense. I'm not nobler than anyone else, I should endure..."
Wilson wiped the blood from his face, and the darkness in his eyes also faded away.
"But I really don't want to endure anymore!"
The several young men who had been beating Wilson were now dismembered, but the rainbow-haired boy had narrowly escaped catastrophe. His mouth agape, the cigarette fell from his lips to the ground.
"Monster! You're a damn monster!"
The expression of the rainbow-haired youth collapsed, and he screamed as he turned and ran, hoping to escape the nightmare.
He ran almost ten meters, and upon looking back to see that Wilson hadn't followed, he felt a surge of relief — at that distance, it would be difficult to be pursued.
But immediately, he discarded that thought as he saw Wilson's left wing bizarrely extend. The twenty steel feathers spread out to form a long chain of knives connected by chains. The knife chain flickered and impaled the rainbow-haired boy with a chill to the heart.
Clap clap clap.
A man wearing a red vest and with black and white face paint emerged from the shadows, clapping his hands.
"What a marvelous display. It's a combat ability, isn't it? I must say, I'm quite envious of such a skill."
"Was it you speaking in my mind just now?" Wilson asked the man with a deep voice.
"That's right, it was me," the man answered with a smile.
"What do you want?" Wilson asked cautiously.
"You may call me Mr. J. It's a waste for someone with your talents to languish in a place like this. Superpower users should be the overlords of this world, enjoying higher power. I hope you will join our organization," Mr. J said smilingly.
"You wouldn't happen to belong to some sort of cult, would you?" Wilson suddenly asked.
"Of course not, we don't engage in the worship of Evil Gods," Mr. J answered with a laugh. Due to the face paint, he looked as if he was smiling even when expressionless.
"Forget it, no matter what you're up to, I'll go with you. I can no longer turn back," Wilson said a bit sorrowfully, his wings behind him quivering slightly to shake off the blood.
...
Wen Wen stood before a pile of dismembered corpses, his slender eyes emitting a dangerous light.
This was the underground passage where Wilson had just gone on a killing spree!
The marks on these people's wounds matched exactly the cutting traces found in Wilson's study — it was clear who had committed the deed.
"Sigh... still too late. Including the basement clinic and this place, he must have killed at least ten people by now. If this continues, who knows how many more will die. We can't drag this on any longer."
After coming out of the basement clinic, Wen Wen followed Wilson's tracks all the way here. As long as Wilson left any trace, Wen Wen could use them to find Wilson's whereabouts.
If it weren't for Mrs. Wilson not seeking Wen Wen right away, he would have already found Wilson and stopped the two massacres.
"We need to be ready to take action. Our target may no longer be in a state to negotiate, but..."
Wen Wen closed his eyes and carefully discerned the scents in the air. Wilson must have just left recently.
Which scent is a vampire most sensitive to?
The scent of fresh blood!
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