Chapter 59: Extraction by the System-Supreme Champion of the Racing World(Shuyuan Sheng)

Smack! Mo Shu slapped Black Mirror hard across the face, but even that wasn’t enough to quell his anger. He followed with a heavy kick, toppling Black Mirror to the ground, and then unleashed a relentless barrage of punches at his face.

Yet Black Mirror did not dodge or resist. He simply endured the blows, his indifferent expression etched with a sorrow that could have been either shame or despair.

Thud!

With each punch, Mo Shu struck harder, his blows fueled by a growing brutality.

On that quiet street, the only sound was flesh meeting flesh, bone crashing against bone—a haunting symphony of violence.

Soon, bright red blood streamed from Black Mirror’s nostrils and lips, yet Mo Shu seemed only more possessed, his excitement mounting with every blow.

Thud!

Mo Shu’s face twisted into something monstrous.

The crimson blood not only covered the face he so despised, but also stained Mo Shu’s furious fists, spraying across his once-white shirt.

Why? Why did the sight of blood bring him such twisted pleasure? Mo Shu was shocked at himself for how much he relished this.

And yet—why wouldn’t his fists stop?

None of the passersby dared intervene. Every one of them turned away, choosing instead to take a detour and avoid the scene.

“Mo Shu, he’s still my brother. Please... have mercy,” Wang Yining pleaded, tears brimming in her eyes as she sobbed uncontrollably.

At that moment, only Wang Yining might have been able to soothe Mo Shu, to bring him back to reason.

A weak, hollow laugh escaped Black Mirror, his eyes glistening with tears.

“All right, Mo Shu, that’s enough. You were the one telling me to stay calm just now,” Wang Yu interjected, unable to bear the sight any longer. If this continued, Mo Shu really might beat Black Mirror to death.

Black Mirror chuckled again, a choked sound. “It was you. You took the glory that should have been mine. You’re the reason I lost my chance to become a Celestial Lord. You—Mo Shen the Extraordinary, the one Vilmin most desires to possess. If it weren’t for your arrival, how could I, Zhao Yibin, have fallen so low…” His words were laced with sorrow, and Mo Shu’s fist hovered in midair for a long, long time.

A cold drop landed on Black Mirror’s face.

It was a tear—Mo Shu’s own.

He didn’t pity Black Mirror, nor did he feel sorry for him. Rather, he was reminded of his own past, of times when he too had struggled and suffered.

The feeling was uncannily familiar, though when he tried to recall, it was also strangely foreign.

Abandoning principles, letting go of persistence.

Mo Shu sighed inwardly. Perhaps that was the greatest difference between himself and Black Mirror.

Seeing Mo Shu’s pause, Black Mirror slowly climbed to his feet. Wang Yining hurried over to wipe the blood from her brother’s face, and for a fleeting moment, a rare gentleness flickered in Black Mirror’s eyes.

“Here, look at this,” Black Mirror said, lifting his long, blood-streaked hair to reveal a wound at the center of the back of his neck—a gaping, pen-sized hole oozing blood.

“Brother! What happened to you?” Wang Yining recoiled in shock, stumbling back three steps and anxiously scanning the ground.

Could something sharp on the ground have pierced him? Mo Shu, too, grew uneasy. If Black Mirror had fallen onto something sharp, a wound to the back of the head could be fatal!

“Don’t be nervous. Look here as well…” Black Mirror said with a strange laugh, pulling back the hair on the right side of his head.

There, another identical wound—same size, same shape, same bloody hole.

“Heh, and here…” Black Mirror continued, parting his hair again.

Three, four, five...

Ten bleeding wounds, arranged with unnatural regularity from the base of his skull down to his neck.

“Brother! What happened to you? Who did this to you?” Wang Yining’s tears fell without end.

It was obvious this wasn’t the result of Mo Shu’s beating. Even if there’d been something on the ground, it couldn’t have pierced Black Mirror’s head so evenly.

But what on earth had Black Mirror endured?

Once so arrogant, the young master of Kunsheng who dominated Nanshan City—how had Zhao, the scion of the Zhaos, fallen to this?

“Vilmin.” A voice sounded abruptly. The group turned in surprise to look at Ruslein.

“Yes, I recognize this method. Vilmin did this,” Mo Shu said quietly, never having seen Ruslein so grim.

“Vilmin wanted to extract the system from the human brain, so in recent years they’ve begun experimenting on people. These wounds... If I’m not mistaken, they are the marks left by those experiments. Am I right, Black Mirror?” Ruslein’s voice trembled slightly.

Black Mirror let out a bitter laugh and nodded.

“I’ve only heard rumors,” Ruslein continued. “Vilmin hired a team of brain specialists to use a newly developed brainwave transplant technique, repeatedly trying to extract systems from the minds of system holders. The procedure is rumored to be extremely cruel. So, seeing these wounds on Black Mirror, I suspected as much.” Even as he spoke, Ruslein felt a chill run down his spine.

“But why would they want to extract them? Wouldn’t it be better to keep these drivers working for Vilmin?” Wang Yu asked, puzzled.

“Vilmin has her own methods. Those she favors may be kept temporarily, but it’s important to note—only temporarily. The ones she deems unworthy are subdued by other means and taken away for experimentation. As for what happens after the system is extracted, I don’t yet know,” Ruslein admitted, his knowledge limited.

“Ruslein, how do you know all this? Does it mean that you Celestial Lords of the Six Realms are truly under Vilmin’s control?” Mo Shu asked cautiously.

Ruslein nodded in acknowledgment, but after a moment, he explained, “It was never my wish to serve her. But in this world, sometimes, there’s no choice but to bow one’s head.”

Mo Shu understood. Vilmin wanted to assassinate Ruslein because he refused to submit, so she resolved to kill him and choose a replacement. Black Mirror, once, was her first candidate, and Mo Shu, who would not yield, was the second. The question now was, who would take Ruslein’s place? Each of them was lost in thought.

After a long while, Wang Yining, having calmed somewhat, still sniffled as she asked, “Brother, what about President Zhao—our father? Is he all right?”

This time, Black Mirror could no longer force a smile. He sighed. “That’s one of the reasons I came to find you. When Black Gold took over Kunsheng and destroyed Hengxing, they also expelled all Kunsheng’s senior management. Now, Kunsheng Group is an empty shell, and after the staff’s loyalty collapsed, our father disappeared again. I strongly suspect Vilmin is behind it.”

“You… you came to ask for our help?” Wang Yining asked, uncertain.

“Yes. If it wasn’t a last resort, I would never have come to you for help,” Black Mirror admitted, his tone unexpectedly soft.

Wang Yining turned to look at her companions, seeking their opinion.