AITAMITB Chapter 92

When Guan Huimin was taken to the hospital, it was hard to recognize her as a person.

Her skin was severely burned all over her body, and although the black color on her abdomen was gradually fading, it remained swollen. A large amount of fluid accumulated inside, constantly threatening her life.

The doctor, even one who had worked with Nightwalker for years, was alarmed by her condition. They wore full protective gear before daring to make the first incision on Guan Huimin’s abdomen, cutting through the outermost layer of muscle.

As the wound appeared, black blood began to flow out.

Tubes were inserted, draining the viscous liquid that resembled asphalt, and collecting it in a specialized container.

Through the protective mask, it felt as if they could still hear the wailing of the evil god.

One nurse, momentarily dazed, received a sharp tap on the hand from the doctor’s hemostatic forceps. Only then did she regain her senses and nervously said, “I’ll go out and switch shifts with the nurse waiting outside.”

Being a superhuman’s doctor was like this—danger lurked everywhere. Even after leaving the most hazardous situations, the risk of infection and contamination remained higher than in a regular infectious disease hospital.

It was a day and night later when Zhao Xiaokui saw Guan Huimin again.

After nearly fifteen hours of resuscitation, she had been forcibly pulled back from the brink of death multiple times. Now, she lay quietly in the ICU room.

The burned skin had left a patchwork of wounds, even with the special medicine developed by Nightwalker. But for an ordinary person, the effects were limited. After all, alongside the immense power granted by the superhuman particles came severe and daunting side effects. Non-superhumans would struggle to endure such consequences.

It was akin to the vial of holy water poured down Guan Huimin’s throat. 

Saved her life, but also pushed people to death.

“Did the surgery succeed?” Zhao Xiaokui looked at the scene in the ward. It was hard to imagine that just over ten days ago, they were sitting at the same dining table, talking about their aspirations for the future. The woman lying on the bed blushed slightly when she talked about wanting a child.

“The surgery was successful, but whether the patient can pull through is uncertain,” the doctor pushed up the glasses perched on the bridge of their nose. Their face bore an air of professionalism and rigor. “Her will to survive is average, or perhaps even low. I’m not sure if she can withstand it.”

Quietly, Hong Ying stepped forward and whispered, “That woman’s words have had a significant impact on her.”

The doctor, clutching the medical records, involuntarily shivered. Zhao Xiaokui had grown accustomed to Hong Ying’s sudden appearances. She stared at the glass wall for a while before saying, “Notify Nie Fu. Just say… Actually, I’ll go tell him myself.”

As soon as the call came, Nie Fu rushed to the hospital where he collaborated with the Nightwalker.

Seeing Zhao Xiaokui in uniform, he anxiously asked, “Did you find her? Is Huimin found? Where is she? Is she inside the hospital?”

Zhao Xiaokui looked at him.

Among the male stars during the recording of “Seven Days, Six Nights,” Nie Fu was the most image-conscious and meticulously groomed. Zhao Xiaokui could tell that he wasn’t like Gu Tianming or Ren Hua, who were perfect only in front of the camera. In real life, he was likely someone who valued quality living, with every detail impeccably managed. When people saw him, they thought of one word: gentleman.

But at this moment, Nie Fu looked disheveled, almost like a vagabond. His coat was unfamiliar to Zhao Xiaokui, but the clothes underneath were the same as the last time he visited—emitting a faint, sour odor as if dredged from a sewer. His hair was unkempt, and his beard had grown long. If it weren’t for his voice, Zhao Xiaokui, who had a slight facial recognition disorder, might not have recognized him as Nie Fu.

“We’ve found her, but you need to prepare yourself mentally.”

Nie Fu stared, “What’s wrong?”

Zhao Xiaokui said, “Ms. Guan is currently under ICU observation. I can take you to see her from outside the ward, but you must promise me that you’ll control your emotions and absolutely not disturb her.”

Nie Fu raised his hand like a child and urgently pleaded, “I promise, I promise. Officer, please, let me see her.”

Zhao Xiaokui didn’t say much, turning around and leading the person into the intensive care unit.

As they stepped out of the elevator, they encountered a doctor and nurse in white coats, both looking exhausted as they emerged from a room.

Zhao Xiaokui asked, “Another incident just happened?”

The doctor replied, “She went into shock again recently, but fortunately, we caught it in time and managed to stabilize her.”

Approaching the glass-walled room, Nie Fu stared at the figure lying on the hospital bed. His voice trembled with disbelief, “Is… is that Huimin?”

Zhao Xiaokui nodded, her tone devoid of emotion. “Yes, it’s her.”

Suddenly, Nie Fu turned away, crouching on the floor. He covered his face, tears streaming through his trembling fingers.

“It’s my fault. I’m useless. I’ve burdened her…”

“What’s the use of crying? Tears are the last thing she needs right now, and they won’t help. We called you here because, based on our investigation, Ms. Guan lost both her parents and her relationship with her siblings isn’t good. You’re the closest person to her.” Zhao Xiaokui’s voice turned icy. “Her will to survive is very low. You have two choices: turn around and leave—she’s the victim in this case, and we’ll handle it—or disinfect and change into protective clothing, use every means to motivate and encourage her and give her the will to live.”

“Yes, crying won’t help. It won’t.” Nie Fu wiped his face with his sleeve, standing up. He looked at Zhao Xiaokui, pleading, “Please let me in. Let me take care of her. I can do it.”

Zhao Xiaokui raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with malice. “Her wounds may never fully heal. I’ve seen Ms. Guan’s photos—she’s a stunning beauty. Even if she survives this, the scars on her body, especially those on her face, might stay with her for a lifetime. Are you truly sure you can handle that?”

“I can,” Nie Fu declared firmly. “I’ve already contacted my studio to release a statement about leaving the entertainment industry. Once Huimin recovers, I’ll take her on a world tour, explore different places, and show her the world’s beauty. If she doesn’t want to venture out, I’ll settle with her in a remote, sparsely populated area—a peaceful rural life.”

He leaned against the glass wall; guilt, pain, and sadness were evident in his eyes, but there was no trace of disdain.

Zhao Xiaokui fell silent for a moment, then patted his shoulder. “You should take a shower first. We’ll discuss going inside later.”

Nie Fu belatedly noticed his disheveled appearance, his face reddening. “I’ll go right away, I promise.”

The hospital had washing facilities, but as for fresh clothes, Zhao Xiaokui doubted he’d remember. She walked to the information desk, inquired about spare clothing, and transferred money from her phone. She asked a male nurse to bring a set of clothes for him.

Nie Fu held the clothes the nurse brought, tears streaming down his face.

Following the doctor’s instructions, Nie Fu disinfected himself, donned a full protective suit, and entered the ICU.

Standing by the hospital bed, he hadn’t even spoken yet when silent tears began to fall.

After a while, he hoarsely called out, “Huimin…”

Guan Huimin’s body was covered in open wounds. He didn’t dare touch her; he could only stand beside her and say, “Huimin, can you hear me? I’m Nie Fu, your Ah Fu. I used to dislike that name, thinking it sounded like calling a dog. But once you wake up, I’ll be your loyal dog. I want to hear you call me Ah Fu a thousand times, ten thousand times… I’ll even bark, woof woof…”

“I remember you loved children. Unfortunately, we never had that chance. We couldn’t have our own baby, and I always disagreed with adoption. But when you wake up, let’s go to an orphanage. We’ll choose a child you like. One to raise is good, two is even better, and three or four would make things livelier.”

“Do you think you’re not attractive now, so you refuse to wake up? You have no idea how happy I am seeing you like this. Back when you were so beautiful, so young, and surrounded by all those handsome young men in the entertainment industry, I used to wonder if you’d find me too old, lacking charm. Don’t think I don’t know. That Zhang guy, always calling you ‘Beautiful Sister.’ But I have my pride too, and it’s hard to say out loud. Besides, I still have to support your work. You have no idea how much it hurts inside…” 

“If you’re worried about me, once you’re better, I’ll find a pot of boiling water and scald myself too. That way, when we step outside, we’ll be the ‘Burned Couple.’ No one should look down on either of us, and no one will fear being stolen away by someone else…”

“Huimin…”

Nie Fu spoke through tears, not noticing that the person lying on the hospital bed had subtly moved her fingers. A barely visible curve appeared at the corner of her mouth.

The capture operation had concluded before the true arrival of the evil god.

Alongside Guan Huimin, four other women had also been treated as sacrificial offerings.

However, not everyone was as fortunate as Guan Huimin. Among the five offerings, besides her, only one other survived. The remaining three, despite timely administration of holy water, lacked the mental strength. During the evil god’s extraction process, they turned into black, fleshy pulp, leaving behind empty husks.

In the meeting room, an unprecedented heaviness hung in the air.

“Based on the information from our investigation, the Local Sect has sacrificed over three hundred people in the past thirty years. Some of these victims were even on the missing persons list within the police system,” said Yu Youmin, his voice sounding weary. Suddenly, he slammed the documents in his hand onto the table and demanded, “I want to know why so many people went missing. Why did this cult secretly thrive right under our noses for so many years without anyone noticing?”

Among those present was the local police chief, a resolute-faced man who sat there, his face flushed. He spoke hesitantly, “Our work wasn’t thorough enough. We lacked attention to detail.”

“Not thorough enough! Is that a problem that can be solved with just those words? I break into a cold sweat just thinking about it. If—if Fan Ying hadn’t drawn the cult symbol at Nie Fu’s house, if our detection system hadn’t flagged the images you recorded, if we hadn’t disrupted the cult’s ritual in time… Would the entire population of over twenty million people in the city have to pay the price for your carelessness?”

Zhao Xiaokui, serving as the mascot, sat silently. Her lips pressed into a straight line as she examined the freshly delivered documents in her hands.

Over three hundred people… vanishing so silently within a population of two million. If it weren’t for this fortuitous opportunity, not even a ripple would have been stirred.

And although they disrupted the ritual, there were still numerous cult members who had gained power through it, now fleeing.

Capturing these cultists who had become superhumans would require an unknown amount of effort and resources. Yet all of this could have been resolved when the missing persons’ cases first occurred—when the evil god’s power was weakest and the cult was no more than a few kittens.

The meeting grew increasingly somber. In photos from earlier years, the cult’s symbols were indeed visible, but the investigating officers hadn’t paid attention at the time. The images were also insufficiently clear, preventing timely retrieval by the Nightwalker system.

At that moment, Lin Bai abruptly entered the room, his expression grim. “Captain Yu, please step outside.”

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