A Novelist’s Guide for Side Characters to Survive

Chapter 28: “My Chu Zu Is a One-of-a-Kind Monster in This World.”

The drizzle grew heavier, rain piercing the holographic projection like sharp needles.

Luciano’s figure dimmed from its blinding brightness, the final frame frozen on him reaching out to someone.

As the storm surged, that outstretched hand vanished completely.

In its place stood Tang Qi.

He had been hiding in the projection, using the light and shadow to conceal his position.

“Do you hate me for killing him?” Tang Qi asked.

Chu Zu seemed still immersed in the earlier projection.

After a few breaths, he refocused his gaze, locking eyes with Tang Qi.

His face remained translucently pale, wet black hair clinging to his forehead and cheeks.

After processing Tang Qi’s words, he tilted his head slightly.

Seconds later, Tang Qi’s heart chilled.

The complex emotions swirling within him vanished, for he saw the change in Chu Zu’s expression.

The man’s eyes curved slightly, the deep red in them seeming ready to spill out with the rain, yet tightly bound within his sockets.

His lips curled upward bit by bit, settling into an arc that could barely be called a “smile.”

If Dai Xi’an were here, she might have recognized that this smile was far more genuine than the faint one he once showed her.

But Tang Qi had never seen it.

He didn’t even know someone like Chu Zu could smile, and in such a… bizarre way.

He could only describe it as bizarre.

Chu Zu’s words went beyond Tang Qi’s comprehension.

“I thought, if you didn’t come to the grave, I’d go to the Esposito Building to find you.”

Chu Zu said, “I’d kill everyone I saw, whether they did anything wrong or not. I’d only need to know they were in my way—I’d become the person I least wanted to be.”

Tang Qi’s eyes widened in shock, pupils shrinking.

Chu Zu continued, “How ridiculous.”

“Even the people I got killed are stopping me from becoming you.”

Tang Qi instinctively stepped back twice, a creeping horror rising from his heart, choking his throat, making it hard to find his voice: “You…”

Chu Zu was still smiling.

He lifted the rain-soaked, heavy blanket from his lap, tossing it to the ground, and propped himself up on the wheelchair’s armrests, slowly standing.

Since his “revival,” he’d always been in the wheelchair, no matter the occasion.

His well-proportioned frame and long legs didn’t reveal his height when seated.

But when he stood, his towering 1.9-meter frame reasserted itself in people’s perception.

Chu Zu stretched his joints, adjusting to his long-idle body, then strode toward Tang Qi.

He stopped in front of him, looking down with a commanding gaze.

He spoke incomprehensible words.

“You wanted to save Ace. I gave you the surveillance station’s location. Ace died.”

“You wanted equality for the Lower District. I gave you the chance to kill Luciano. The Lower District fractured.”

“What else do you want to do? Save me?”

They stood close, Tang Qi’s pupils reflecting the scarlet in Chu Zu’s eyes.

He couldn’t look away, forced to see his own disheveled disbelief in those faintly amused eyes.

Chu Zu scoffed, “Tang Qi, you’ve never accomplished a single thing you said you would. Not one.”

Tang Qi began retreating uncontrollably.

In his eyes, the smiling Chu Zu was more terrifying than the unhinged reaper of before.

The world’s most frightening thing wasn’t violence or power—it was a monster cloaked in human skin, mocking everyone while wielding both.

Tang Qi finally understood.

He understood that Chu Zu wasn’t trapped in a nightmare called Luciano.

The pity and leniency others showed him were a joke.

The man watched coldly, scorning everything, not even valuing life—his own or others’.

Chu Zu was the nightmare itself.

“What have you done? What have you done?” Tang Qi’s voice rasped.

As before, Chu Zu struck without warning.

As Tang Qi’s words fell, the man was already in front of him.

This time, he needed no weapon—his half-replaced body was the weapon.

Still a close-quarters fight, Chu Zu’s behavior had completely changed.

He moved with raw aggression, seizing Tang Qi’s collar and slamming him onto the stone ground!

Thud—!

Tang Qi shielded his head, his back arching.

The pain in his spine was excruciating; he didn’t know if bones were broken but could only dodge the incoming fist, rolling several times to stabilize himself.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Tang Qi struggled to his feet, staggering.

He looked up to see the ground cracked from Chu Zu’s punch.

Chu Zu straightened slowly, turning sideways, his cold eyes locking onto him.

Lightning flashed behind him, illuminating his sharp features, upturned lips, and chilling gaze.

“What have I done?” He stretched his joints again, speaking slowly, “I’ve done everything.”

“I gave you the surveillance stations, angering Luciano, making him lash out at others, earning me the support of Esposito’s people.”

“I let myself ‘die’ in front of you, pushing you to attack the Upper District. Luciano had to act against a near-dead me, letting me step back.”

“I let their small moves play out, waiting for you to kill Luciano—”

He paused.

“Honestly, you shouldn’t have killed Luciano, giving me a reason for revenge. The Upper District pities me, supports me, thinking I’m a fool loyal to him despite his torment.”

Chu Zu’s voice was eerily casual: “What else do you want to know?”

“The Lower District…” Tang Qi rasped.

The Lower District, their shared “homeland.”

Tang Qi always thought Chu Zu felt something for the Lower District—hatred or nostalgia.

When there, he’d show a blank, lonely expression for no reason.

He couldn’t explain why someone tormented by the Lower District would care about it.

He feared hearing more cruel truths from Chu Zu, whose nightmarish thoughts were beyond human comprehension.

Incomprehensible, unrelatable, they confirmed his inhumanity, instilling fear.

“The Lower District…” Chu Zu chewed the term indifferently, “I actually agree with you.”

“The Upper and Lower Districts are just a vertical geographic divide. No one’s nobler than another. You, me, Luciano—we’re no different.”

“Tang Qi, from that position, everything is the same to me.”

As if pierced through, Tang Qi froze, his soul plunged beneath an icy glacier.

Chu Zu understood everything.

He’d even climbed over his and Luciano’s ideals, step by step, like at the train accident site.

Disasters were just his stepping stones.

Bang—

The gunshot couldn’t shake the rain.

Chu Zu dug a bullet from his mechanical collarbone, holding it between two fingers, framing Tang Qi’s pale face in the circle.

“With a cyborg hindering aim assist, you can’t even hit my head?”

Tang Qi’s left eye twitched.

Tang Family cyborg tech combined with Esposito’s military industry—Chu Zu was now a biomechanical war machine with uploaded consciousness.

Forget firearms—even a fully armed Inspection Control Department wouldn’t stand a chance!

“So I’ve said many times, why pity me? I’ve done everything I wanted. And you, Tang Qi? Besides self-consolation, what have you done?”

In their few encounters, Tang Qi was the talkative one.

This was the first time he was speechless, with only Chu Zu’s mocking taunts echoing in the rainy night.

Chu Zu gave him no time to catch his breath; the one-sided melee continued.

One wielded overwhelming skill and strength, the other fought desperately.

The pristine garden was half-ruined, petals scattered, crushed into stone cracks by the rain.

Someone triggered the hologram.

Luciano’s figure reappeared in the night, the waterlogged speakers barely working.

Did you get my gift?

Pretty good choice this time, right?

Why’d it take you so long to deal with those losers, Chu Zu? We had dinner plans—did you forget?

Sneak to the Council Hall without Jeeves.

You in?

Haha, I knew you wouldn’t say no.

Come on, let’s go together.

The young, reckless Luciano shone in the rain, his smile bright like a spilled palette on flowers, a dazzling spring.

He reached out to Chu Zu again.

Chu Zu responded with a thunderous elbow strike, precisely hitting Tang Qi hiding in the projection.

Struck in the neck, Tang Qi felt like an entire building crashed onto him, his bones making a terrifying crack.

He dodged mechanically, watching Chu Zu crush the projector with a stomp.

The blond man in the rain flickered, finally vanishing from his garden.

In a daze, Tang Qi recalled the Lower District.

Back then, Chu Zu had also dominated him.

He couldn’t tell if the man’s words were lies, but the killing intent was strikingly similar.

The two Chu Zus merged in his vision, but this time, there was no “painful accident,” no Luciano to restrain him.

Death’s scent was vivid, mingling with the rain’s chemicals, seeping into his mouth and lungs with each breath.

Pain blackened Tang Qi’s vision.

He hadn’t expected his life to end in this storm, like the train accident—a natural disaster where human will was powerless against fate.

In the darkness, a voice broke through uncontrollably in Tang Qi’s mind.

You could easily kill him.

Like a blade slicing through a deadlock, the voice cut through the rain and despair.

His life is in your hands.

Don’t you want to deny him?

Tang Qi knew this voice well; it had echoed in his mind countless times.

Whenever he faced a decision, it appeared, tempting him.

Be ruthless, go all the way, abandon your pathetic pity.

Neither the Upper nor Lower District cares for your persistence.

Tang Qi had always ignored it, preferring a million curses to heeding his inner whispers.

Taking the easy path was too simple.

Everyone in both districts lived easier than him.

Hand over control, and laziness was the reward—at worst, you’d be at others’ mercy.

Everyone in this era was at someone’s mercy.

It wasn’t shameful or weak.

But Tang Qi refused.

Anyone could kneel gracefully.

He wouldn’t kneel, nor did he want to see those like him kneel.

Did only the strong pouring resources on the weak ensure their survival?

No.

Resisting this wretched world needed no meaning—resistance itself was meaning.

Even gears had their pride.

That’s what Tang Qi used to think.

But… but…

If you don’t kill him, he’ll drag the world into hell.

He is hell.

Tang Qi didn’t know how many injuries he had.

Lower District fights were like beasts tearing at each other.

The Upper District was more refined, calling it combat.

Families didn’t teach heirs to kill with their hands—plenty of others did that for them.

Tang Qi had blended both, but he was no match for Chu Zu.

That was clear.

Last time, Chu Zu stopped because of sudden pain.

If the genetic report hadn’t clearly stated it, Tang Qi would’ve thought the pain was another lie.

Now, Chu Zu has mastered his pain.

He wouldn’t falter again!

Thus, the voice whispered like a devil in his ear, urging him.

If people aren’t born for pain and despair, then only madness remains.

Tang Qi clutched his neck in agony, coughing blood.

He recognized it as his own voice.

He seemed to be speaking but couldn’t tell if the words were spoken aloud.

Blood and rain blurred his vision; he couldn’t see if Chu Zu was still smiling.

A victorious smile.

He’s right.

I’m no different from Luciano.

In a daze, Tang Qi thought.

When pushed, Luciano ignored years of companionship.

When cornered, Tang Qi, too, abandoned his principles.

Now he understood: every word Chu Zu said had its own meaning.

Luciano didn’t grasp it, nor did he.

So Luciano died, but he… didn’t have to.

Right, you have the code.

The cyborg’s core control is in your eye.

If you want, you can kill him anytime.

Do it, just this once.

Chu Zu isn’t worth your oaths.

To this world, breaking oaths was commonplace.

In both districts, verbal promises were cheap and lowly.

Tang Qi finally woke from his idealistic dream.

He knelt in the rain, soaked, the ground’s red washed away repeatedly.

As if his soul had detached, he hovered above, watching his every move.

He gouged out his right eye and, as Chu Zu closed in, shut his remaining eye, softly reciting a string of memorized numbers.

Cyborg scan… nearby unit confirmed.

Voiceprint scan passed.

Soundwave analysis passed.

Voice pattern passed.

Voice code tracking passed.

Emergency self-destruct protocol activated.

Come on, our madness needs an end.

That’s what “archenemies” are, right?

Tang Qi thought.

It happened in an instant.

The lethal strike didn’t reach Tang Qi.

The sound of a heavy fall was lighter than the rain.

Tang Qi opened his single eye.

Chu Zu lay in the ruins, blood seeping from where machines met flesh, growing thicker, undiluted by the rain.

Blood soaked into the stone, staining delicate petals.

The cyborg’s failure disrupted connected nerves.

On a normal person, it might’ve caused violent thrashing, but Chu Zu’s nerves were already fragile.

He had no strength to struggle.

His death would be slow, with unimaginable pain.

Tang Qi vaguely saw Chu Zu’s chest heaving violently.

Opening his eyes was a struggle, but his gaze, washed clean by the rain, held none of its earlier eeriness.

Clean…?

“I really hate your eyes…” Chu Zu rasped. “You always… think I’m pitiful…”

Tang Qi opened his mouth, voiceless.

He didn’t know what Chu Zu meant.

“You’re really… pitying yourself… But you’re the only winner…”

Chu Zu said, “Hypocritical savior… No need… to feel bad. I wasn’t… going to live long anyway… Genetic defect… right?”

The words snapped Tang Qi’s consciousness back, his heart skipping a beat.

Under the man’s relentless pressure, he’d broken his oath never to use the code.

That same despairing pressure made him forget why he’d come alone.

Tang Qi suddenly remembered.

Chu Zu was already dying.

Instinct screamed, a fierce fear gripping him.

He couldn’t explain why—perhaps Chu Zu’s earlier words were proven true.

Tang Qi, you’ve never accomplished a single thing you said you would.

Not one.

No, no, no.

Chu Zu’s dead, the rain stops, night passes, the sun rises.

The dark nightmare controlling everything is gone.

Things will only get better.

Even if you’re like Luciano… you’re still different.

You’re not that bad, not that undignified.

Tang Qi desperately convinced himself, stumbling toward Chu Zu.

The man looked at him with knowing, weak eyes.

Tang Qi’s fear deepened.

His cursed intuition kept screaming about the wrongness.

He went to the Genetic Engineering Bureau because Chu Zu said: This is the pain you caused, Tang Qi. I’ll make you pay.

Pain is easily linked to Chu Zu’s sudden agony.

So he investigated, finding Chu Zu’s genetic defect worsening rapidly.

What would a vengeful man, knowing his days were numbered, do?

Without hesitation, Tang Qi deleted the data and detained the doctor in District 32.

Back then, he thought the only conflict between him and Chu Zu was Luciano’s death.

Chu Zu shouldn’t die for someone like that.

Tang Qi had wanted to talk it out.

The Tang Family’s genetic tech might find a breakthrough for the defect.

They could call a truce, set aside pain and hatred.

He’d prepared a hibernation pod.

Even if Chu Zu refused, he’d force him in.

Nothing mattered more than staying alive.

Chu Zu gave him no chance, cruelly tearing off the mask of pretense.

Once his thoughts raced, they couldn’t stop.

Tang Qi’s head throbbed, splitting.

Strange ideas flooded his mind along the clues, exploding without conclusion.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with this indirect communication.

Before, Chu Zu’s “Are you in pain?” led him to investigate, meet, and receive the surveillance station data.

This time, too, Chu Zu lifted a corner of the curtain, and Tang Qi, ever generous, walked onto the tragic stage.

The stage had actors, a story, a writer, a director.

Chu Zu played multiple roles, inviting everyone up, using useless corpses as stepping stones to be the stage’s sole star.

What about… that kid?

Chu Zu’s child?

When Luciano was alive, Chu Zu brought the boy to his side but never mentioned him.

His son stayed invisible in all matters, silent as if he didn’t exist.

Tang Qi dreaded the truth he was reaching for, still grasping for arguments to convince himself.

Maybe Chu Zu didn’t care about the kid, just a weakness placed under Luciano’s nose.

Even if not, so what?

Didn’t his actions prove his vileness?

Maybe he truly loved his child, but how much?

More than what he pursued?

Blood spilled from Chu Zu’s mouth.

He convulsed in pain, coughing out the blood in his throat after a while.

“You finally got it right… What are you scared of now… Don’t be childish…”

Tang Qi, supporting his knees, stood, staggering to get away from Chu Zu.

His face was paler than the bleeding man’s, but his exhausted body wouldn’t obey.

He fell, gravel embedding into his wounded palms.

Tang Qi stared blankly at his bloodied hands.

Seconds later, a pain sharper than his gouged eye hit his brain.

For the first time, he knew the wound of avoidance hurt more than breaking an oath.

Chu Zu let out a soft laugh.

Tang Qi turned his neck mechanically, numbly facing the man on the ground.

He really could smile, eyes gently curved, without discomfort, like a friendly tease after seeing a friend’s blunder.

“Listen, tell everyone what I did… You’re the savior who defeated the devil…”

“Lower District autonomy… Revise it your way… The bill’s passed; the Council has no excuse…”

“Don’t rush… You can’t rush it… You have time, just be patient. Unless you give up… the power to define is in your hands… This is your new world…”

Tang Qi stared blankly at Chu Zu, tearing his throat to speak.

With unknown strength, he lurched forward, propping up Chu Zu’s upper body.

Everything became ethereal.

He wanted to get the man treatment now—there was still time… there had to be!

Chu Zu didn’t resist, too weak to resist, only saying, “It hurts.”

He said those words with stark clarity.

“I’m more pathetic… than you think… It hurts, really hurts…”

To keep talking through such pain could only be described as a final flare of life.

Both were trembling.

Tang Qi didn’t know what else he could do.

Kneeling, he let Chu Zu rest on his lap, afraid to touch him further.

“Don’t think… too highly of me… I wanted to kill you. I lost… so I had to die by your hand… Only you. I trusted you once… your world…”

Chu Zu’s half-closed eyes met his, trying to lift his metal arm, but misfiring nerves only made half his body twitch faintly.

So he said, “Pocket… Tang Qi… my pocket…”

Tang Qi pulled a dark brown leather wallet from his coat pocket.

It held only a few crumpled Lower District papers, ruined by the rain.

“Now… this is all I have.”

Chu Zu said, “Good guy… do me a favor…”

Tang Qi said blankly, “What favor?”

“Sidney…”

Chu Zu’s eyes softened, as if they’d spilled with the rain.

“Sidney’s… mango trees… water them…”

His weak words echoed in Tang Qi’s mind.

He thought he’d misheard.

He didn’t know where to begin; commentary felt redundant.

Was Chu Zu this simple?

Simple to the point of foolishness.

He’d kept the junk Luciano discarded from childhood, thinking it still held value, entrusting such trivial matters.

So calculating, yet in the end, all he cared about was… whether someone would water his kid’s trees?

What was this?

Family?

He and Sidney had barely spent time together, not even a fraction of his time with Luciano.

Where did Chu Zu learn family?

“Go yourself.”

As if waking from a nightmare, Tang Qi gasped like an asthmatic, swallowing cold, painful rain, feeling nothing but carefully cradling the man’s shoulder, slinging his arm over his own.

“Get up. Your scraps are worthless. Your son’s business is yours to handle! Hear me?”

The man didn’t answer.

His arm slid back to the ground, splashing rain onto Tang Qi’s chin.

The storm raged, heavier than bullets, piercing the world with illuminated spikes.

Thunder and lightning roared, a fleeting daylight pooling into the blood, reflecting two pale faces.

The Upper District had never seen such ferocious rain, heedless of human lives.

Tang Qi looked down, unable to find those deep or shallow red eyes.

Chu Zu, eyes closed, was quiet, defenseless, unguarded against the world.

Rain pooled on his lashes, dripping along his cheeks.

Tang Qi stared for a long time.

Something faint in his remaining eye dimmed, and he suddenly held him tightly, weeping silently.

He’d meant to save Chu Zu.

But Chu Zu was dead.

Those words became a nightmarish prophecy, an unsolvable curse.

Tang Qi, you’ve never accomplished a single thing you said you would.

Not one.

*

“You didn’t have to use the Physics Beast now…” the System sobbed.

It had been crying buckets, muting itself to avoid disturbing its host.

Only when the host abruptly said to use the item did it pull itself together.

Chu Zu watched the System’s relayed aftermath, taking deep breaths to ease the strain on his voice from intense pain.

To achieve the planned ending, Chu Zu hadn’t let the System give him painkillers.

When Tang Qi used the code, he nearly passed out from the pain.

“Without it, how long would it hurt?”

“About six hours…”

“There you go.”

Chu Zu exhaled deeply.

“With painkillers, I couldn’t act, but any more pain, and I’d lose my mind.”

The System agreed.

The 3,000-point item was worth it here.

“Should we exit Neon Crown now? Afterwards, we can apply for settlement.”

Wiping tears, the System said, “I estimate at least an A. If not, I’ll protest hard, drown the boss in digital tears!”

No bias—any neutral standard would agree this was the best outcome.

Logical, consistent, with solid character arcs.

Knowing his time was short, Chu Zu gambled.

If he could kill Tang Qi, he’d win.

If not, he’d secure a path for Sidney.

Tang Qi finally took a step for his ideals, no longer Dai Xi’an’s obsessive idealist.

He’d be more practical, softened by Chu Zu’s death.

No one could’ve done better than the host.

But Chu Zu asked a question the System couldn’t grasp: “Where’s Sidney now?”

Thinking he was worried about the boy, it checked.

It was stunned.

“At… Esposito Building, fifteenth floor!”

“Sixteenth… seventeenth… He’s in the elevator, heading to the rooftop!!!”

The System panicked. “Wasn’t he supposed to be in the Lower District? Is he here to fight Tang Qi? Is he a match? He…”

Chu Zu asked another unexpected question: “How much time left on the Physics Beast?”

It had been a while since using the item.

Easing the pain took effort, and Tang Qi hadn’t left Chu Zu’s body.

By that count…

“Less than three minutes…” the System said.

Chu Zu smiled: “You think, as the ultimate boss, I was betting on killing Tang Qi?”

“Yeah…”

“But killing him, I’d still die soon. Why bet on that?”

“…”

“Tang Qi’s family died because of me, indirectly. Luciano’s lethal move was spurred by him, but Tang Qi didn’t intend my death.”

“We were always one step from breaking that window. We never truly hurt each other.”

“But he had to act. I’d force him, in the most extreme, unsolvable way. Only by breaking his oath, destroying me with the code, would he truly feel guilty.”

Perhaps because Chu Zu was truly pleased, his tone carried a rare lightness.

“Guilt would still wrestle with pragmatism. He wanted to save me, but compared to his ideals, my life was worthless. That’s who he is—gradually swayed by reality. A warped, emotional lunatic isn’t worth saving. Dead is better for everyone…”

“Unless relentless facts shatter his cost-benefit reasoning in a short time.”

As he spoke, Sidney sprinted from the elevator to the garden.

Seeing the two red figures in the rain, his steps grew heavy.

He dragged leaden legs against the rain, nearly tripping, but rushed forward, crazed.

“Get away!” Sidney roared.

He lunged, shoving Tang Qi aside, holding Chu Zu, shouting desperately, “Dad! Dad, it’s Sidney, Dad!”

“He’s already dead,” Tang Qi said hoarsely.

Sidney ignored him, pressing his cheek to Chu Zu’s, gentle and careful.

He knew Chu Zu’s limp state, how to care for him.

Dad would get better…

After the doctor woke and told him about Chu Zu’s genetic report, hadn’t he rushed back?

Even without Dai Xi’an’s contact, he’d detonated the surveillance station’s equipment in the pollution zone, sending snow-like pollutants up the mine shaft, affecting the Upper District.

The alarm triggered, forcing Dai Xi’an to fetch him.

He had to be by Chu Zu’s side.

He finally understood the man’s words.

Chu Zu said he didn’t know much.

Before Tang Qi, he never imagined a new world, but he learned, cared, and passed it to his kid.

Dai Xi’an always said Chu Zu didn’t know how to be a father—laughable.

Was there a better dad than Chu Zu?

Sidney had raced against time, doing everything he could in the shortest span.

Why did it end like this?

Tang Qi could only listen powerlessly as the boy called out to Chu Zu.

Clutching the brown wallet, he couldn’t speak, his mind blank.

The large and small figures drowned in rain, their despair nearly identical.

No moment felt more like a “funeral”—utterly tragic.

Suddenly, Sidney froze, pressing his ear to Chu Zu’s nose.

“Tang Qi.”

The boy snapped his head up, blue eyes blazing with a terrifying storm.

“Dad’s not dead. You have to save him.”

Whether it was the familiar blue eyes, distinct from the data, or Sidney’s shocking words, Tang Qi couldn’t react.

“I’m Sidney Esposito, Luciano Esposito’s illegitimate son. Dad brought me out of District 18.”

Tang Qi: “Wh… what?”

Sidney: “You can’t handle Dai Xi’an or Lazar. They don’t care about profit or ideals. You killed Chu Zu—they’ll hate you to the bone. As long as they breathe, they’ll destroy you, everything and everyone you care about.”

Tang Qi shuddered.

No child would say this—not even Luciano at twelve was this mature!

“Dad doesn’t ask anything of me, but I can give you a lot. You’re a Tang, with Tang blood. Whether it’s cyborg issues or genetic defects, you have the clearance to try fixing them, don’t you?”

The boy’s voice was eerily steady in the rainy night, cold, almost reminiscent of the man he called Dad.

When Tang Qi turned his broken gaze to that man—Chu Zu’s chest was faintly rising.

Sidney repeated coldly, “Don’t you, Tang Qi.”

The boy’s hair was soaked, rain dripping from the tips, yet he wasn’t disheveled—like a fierce cub with hackles raised.

The System was stunned.

This was beyond its calculations.

It only knew Sidney found the doctor last night… and its host had set the funeral for tonight.

The System thought he wanted to end it before Sidney returned.

Not at all!

The host timed it perfectly, knowing Sidney would rush back!!!

No wonder he barely asked about Dai Xi’an—he knew, however Sidney returned, she’d fetch him.

Her absence proved things were unfolding as planned.

That hidden setting… it wasn’t about pain or ending himself.

Only Tang Qi could solve the genetic defect.

From the start, Chu Zu planned this outcome.

The process was always controlled.

Even without Sidney, he’d find another variable.

The coin soared in the sky, not yet landed.

Who could know which side faced up?

If anyone could foresee, it was Chu Zu.

He created the coin, tossed it, knew where the wind blew, where the rain fell, and mastered every development!

“Even a child unrelated by blood, Luciano’s son, wasn’t used by the emotionless Chu Zu. To his death, he only thought of the kid’s mango trees, hoping he’d live well.”

“And this kid now promises a new world, demanding his dad’s salvation.”

“It’s a demand, not a request. Sidney’s forcing it as ‘Chu Zu’s child’ and ‘Esposito’s sole heir.’”

“No matter what, no one’s acting for themselves—exactly the ‘right’ relationships in Tang Qi’s envisioned world. This is enough to shatter his cost-benefit reasoning.”

Chu Zu said with a smile.

“Look, I can’t find a reason for Tang Qi to let me die.”

Sure enough, adrenaline and endorphins gave Tang Qi a burst of strength.

He took the man from Sidney, supporting his full weight, hurrying to the elevator.

Sidney followed.

Lazar and Dai Xi’an, sensing something wrong, rushed out of the elevator.

Seeing Tang Qi, killing intent flared, but Sidney’s “Get away” froze them.

They exchanged glances, their intent fading.

One contacted the Neural Prosthetics Studio and Genetic Engineering Bureau; the other cursed at the terminal’s councilor, demanding the damned rain stop.

Tang Qi gave the location of the Tang Family’s hidden experts.

The System trembled.

“I gave him a decisive victory, and he’ll give me everything.”

“A guilt-ridden savior will free me from pain, from the threat of genetic defect’s threat.”

“He’ll strive to create a new world where conflicts are resolved, eagerly awaiting my awakening.”

Chu Zu said, satisfied, “Third-rate authors obsess over plot, using clichés to tug heartstrings, assuming every character must yield to the protagonist. I’m no third-rate author, and that’s not what ‘Chu Zu’ would think.”

“My Chu Zu is a one-of-a-kind monster in this world.”

“I admit Tang Qi’s new world is better. I love Sidney, too. As a dad, I did my best to let him live freely in the new world I judged best. But before that—”

The System, speechless, could only echo: “Before that…”

Chu Zu answered, “Before that, as a proper final boss, I had to bet my life.”

“What’s better than that?”