82 Mob mentality

Yuliang was on his way back to the university when he was stopped in his tracks by a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait, you're Yuliang Davos, aren't you? The Healer?"

Yuliang scowled at the girl, "Yeah, what about it?"

The girl squealed and turned to the three other people waiting a few feet away, with their phones pointed at him. "Guys, it's really him! It's Yuliang Davos!"

They were in a relatively populated area close to the university, and this was a weekend, so there were plenty of people around the shopping area.

Yuliang felt hyper-aware of the attention the girl's announcement had brought to him, and the memory of Yukio telling him to be careful about going out barefaced belatedly came to the forefront of his mind.

Way too belatedly, because the next thing he knew, he was surrounded by screaming people left and right.

He was trapped.

He was trapped in a crowd of people who were all grabbing at him and talking to him all at the same time.

Such a crowd couldn't possibly have just gathered because of him. Yuliang wasn't such an important figure to garner so much attention by himself, even if the media had popularised his face due to his efforts from three weeks ago.

It was more likely that a few people had gathered because of him, and the rest of the people around had just jumped the bandwagon or been drawn in due to mob mentality.

For a second, he couldn't breathe, gripped by a sense of dread that he had not felt since he was a kid and getting beat down on the regular.

Yuliang forced his lungs to work, taking in much-needed air, but every inhale only brought forth the smell of human body odor, omega sweetness, and perfume, which did the opposite of calming him.

He grits his teeth, letting a more comfortable, familiar rush of anger fill him with the strength to move his locked muscles and begin pushing through the crowd.

"Could y'all please kindly, fuck off. I really don't have time for this shit," he managed to force out with minimal wavering.

"Is that the kind of language someone of your profession should be using, young man?" some snobbish bitch in the crowd asked, setting Yuliang off.

"Like I fucking care," Yuliang sneered, "Now, stop fucking blocking the way. I'm trying to get back home, thanks."

"Unbelievable! You're a disgrace, Yuliang Davos! Nothing like the hero everyone seems to have been brought to believe."

A few cries of agreement and muttering spread across the crowd in a wave as the overwhelmingly positive energy that had infected the crowd shifted into one of cold judgment and condemnation.

Yuliang snapped, "It's your own fault if you believed some fantasy the state media cooked up, I had no say in it. I was fucking unconscious the whole time it was going on. I didn't ask for any of that! I just did my job, got it? I did my job, just like every other medical professional that day. Nothing more, nothing less. As a Healer, it's my fucking job to save lives. I didn't go out of my fucking way to do anything special! So, whatever ideas all you folks have of me being some kind of fucking hero or whatever, get fucking rid of em. Now, if y'all could just continue going about your day and letting me through, that would be great, thanks."

Yuliang hadn't intended to say so much, but he had little control of what he said in such an emotionally heightened state. Thankfully it seemed to have the effect of at least snapping some people back to their senses, as people began to part the way for him to at least get out.

Yuliang's memories from that point were still hazy, but he somehow managed to get back to the university and sneaked back into his apartment, feeling paranoia creeping at the edges of his conscience.

It was only once he was certain that he was safely locked away and tucked under the covers tightly curled around the biggest and softest pillow he had available that he finally relaxed.

Yuliang was never going out without a disguise ever again!

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