Retreat

The middle-aged man stared in astonishment at the indigo liquid beneath his feet, glowing softly and flowing like water. He pressed down several times, but could find no point of resistance beneath him.

Before Ji Ning could say another word, a dull shadow emerged from the man’s body. Ji Ning had no intention of testing whether a slime could withstand a mental assault. He quickly flowed along the fine lines on the ground, but the shadow moved much faster than any puddle of water.

Just as the shadow was about to reach him, Ji Ning shifted back into human form and bolted like a stray dog freed from its leash. He had no thought of resistance—he only wanted to survive.

Qin Mo barely had time to process how Ji Ning had appeared when he was already racing toward her. In the blink of an eye, all she could see was the hand he offered—warm, solid, and strong, like a torch set ablaze in the dead of night. For someone blind who glimpses light for the first time, it’s impossible to look away, even if the brightness brings tears. But there was no time for her to gather her composure.

Ji Ning had no patience for wasted words like “Give me your hand.” He seized the girl, who was still dazed, and sprinted for the street corner. On this empty street, they were nothing but exposed targets. He needed an environment where he could use the terrain to his advantage—brains over brawn, at least until he found a way to fight back. For now, he had no intention of confronting the formidable cultist head-on.

“Roll right!” The voice of SCP-CN-655 rang out just seconds after Ji Ning grabbed Qin Mo’s hand. This time, its simulated tone was grave.

Without hesitation, Ji Ning instinctively cradled Qin Mo and rolled twice across the ground. Moments later, a trash bin from the roadside crashed down like an intercontinental missile, landing exactly where they had just been running.

Heavy footsteps thundered like a steamroller over gravel. Before the dust from the trash bin could settle, the middle-aged man appeared before Ji Ning.

There was no need for words. The sheer display of power made it clear to Ji Ning that the man was toying with them like a cat with a mouse.

“We surrender!” Ji Ning gasped for breath as he lay on the ground, then glanced at the motionless Qin Mo in his arms. Had she been frightened senseless? Having absorbed most of the impact, Ji Ning felt as though his body was coming apart, not to mention his already injured right hand. He could only use his left arm, still wrapped around Qin Mo’s waist, to nudge the girl, signaling for her to get off him. Though she was light, Ji Ning was in no mood to savor the feeling of holding a warm jade in his arms.

“Hand it over.” The middle-aged man extended his hand, unsurprised by Ji Ning’s decision. Surrender wasn’t the act of a weakling—it was their label, like clothes in a shop, only ever to be chosen by others.

“If I give it to you, will you let us go?” Ji Ning struggled to sit up. His clothes, new from a shopping trip that afternoon, now bore the grime he always avoided. Even now, his instinct was to brush himself off, but the pain in his right hand made it impossible to maintain even that last shred of dignity.

“Yes.” The man answered without hesitation, his voice deep and resonant, echoing down the deserted street like a beast’s snort.

“Mister, could you at least pretend when you lie? You agreed so easily, anyone could tell you’re deceiving us, right?” Ji Ning sighed and poked Qin Mo, trying to look less afraid. But his hand still trembled from t