Pristine Darkness

Chapter 53

We've seen what happened to Fang Qing and An Yan, and who knows where Jian Yao's been taken. Fu Ziyu and Han Yumeng's story comes to a tragic end in this chapter, before the focus turns to Bo Jinyan and his ongoing battle. At the moment, he seems to have the upper hand, but anything can happen. . . .

Warning: Until Chapter 56 (end of Volume 1), the story will contain scenes of violence and graphic descriptions of injuries.

********** 

Translator: shl

Editor/ Proofreader: Anks

**********

There was finally silence in the room.

The sound of someone's footsteps faded away into the distance.

Fu Ziyu crawled forward slowly, desperately striving to reach her hand.

She lay still, completely motionless.

In a split second, a huge wave of grief had engulfed his heart.

He was wrong, they were wrong. They thought they could beat someone at their own game, that they could escape to a faraway place, that they could avoid causing trouble for the people around them.

Instead, two corpses lay in separate places, yin and yang would forever be asunder.

Finally, he touched her finger and grasped it tightly.

Nothing can ever separate us again, little girl.

He lay on his back, gasping faintly, and shut his eyes.

Jinyan, the old enemy is here.

Please take care of yourself.

——

Bo Jinyan walked into the warehouse. The vast space was conspicuously, completely empty.

It should be an abandoned warehouse; several strong lights were strung here and there from the bare ceiling. There were also several huge machine parts hanging in the air. From a distance, they looked like bloated steel giants, silent spies.

Bo Jinyan gripped his gun tightly using both hands, bent low, and slowly made his approach. The lights shone brightly from all directions, bathing the entire space in uniformly tranquil, white light. His coat buttons were undone, revealing the white shirt underneath. His eyes were clear and sharp as he raised them to look around while keeping his head low, remaining still and soundless.

He noticed the corridor on the second floor. There were quite a few pillars, but no one in sight. Moreover, next to him, on the first floor, was a jumble of both high and low shelves. If someone were to attempt to make his or her way through the shelves, the shelves would provide some cover, and that person would only be intermittently visible.

In his mind, he calculated the angles and positions of the corridor, the hanging machine parts, the pillars and the shelves.

He raised his head and looked at the rooms beyond the corridor which were lit up.

He gripped his gun more firmly.

——

That man took a sip of alcohol and felt his entire body heat up.

He put down that wonderful, burning vodka and grinned like an imbecile.

Because he heard the sound of the warehouse door opening.

Oh, their prey . . . was coming.

Right into their bowl.

That man counted down in his heart: 60, 59, 58, 57 . . .