Vol. 4 Chapter 5: I’m Going to Become God of Justice

Chapter 5: I'm Going to Become Kami

Time rewinds slightly as Fu Bin, wearing a black mask and carrying a backpack, walks frantically down the nighttime streets. His mind is in turmoil after hastily packing a few items and fleeing from home without a clear destination, driven solely by the need to escape.

Regardless of the reasons, he had killed his father with his own hands. Overwhelmed by moral guilt and the fear of legal consequences, he fled aimlessly towards the outskirts of the city. However, as he passed through a small alley, the sight of a few punks mocking his black mask brought back painful memories of being bullied.

Black substance seeped from his skin, enveloping him. With his mind spiraling out of control, all he could think about was venting his rage. The black plankton-like substance drifted around him like smoke, solidifying into tendrils that grabbed the punks.

Ah De, who was on the phone, dropped his phone nearby as Fu Bin, shrouded in black, lunged at a punk bound by the black tendrils, mercilessly attacking his head. Those ensnared by the plankton tendrils could only endure the torment helplessly.

The plankton, influenced by Fu Bin's chaotic thoughts, formed various shapes. Simultaneously, Fu Bin endured the cacophony of information transmitted by the plankton, making him more frenzied. He wielded a black sword made of plankton, which emanated black flames as the plankton flew off the blade. With his enhanced physical abilities, he severed Ah De's leg in one swing, causing him to collapse.

As Zheng Long's call came through, Ah De, struggling on the ground, managed to answer only a few words before Fu Bin stabbed him to death, crushing the phone underfoot. The black plankton returned to Fu Bin's body like smoke, and his consciousness cleared once again.

This time, he didn't flee. Instead, he stood amidst the bloody scene, crying and shouting, "It's not my fault! It's their fault! They are the scum of society, and I'm just cleaning up the garbage. They all deserved to die!"

Most people, in the moment of committing a wrong, seek excuses. They like to justify their actions as correct. Having killed twice in a frenzy, Fu Bin started making excuses for himself.

He convinced himself that he killed his father because he was trash. He killed the punks because they were societal garbage. By rationalizing his actions, Fu Bin began to see himself as a righteous cleaner of society.

Wiping a handful of blood with his plankton-covered hand, Fu Bin steadied his trembling body, a twisted smile forming on his face. On the wall, he wrote, "All punks should die!"

With this self-hypnosis, Fu Bin began to accept his actions, clearing his muddled thoughts. Firstly, although this area was relatively secluded, the deaths of four people couldn't be concealed. He didn't have time to clean up the scene thoroughly.

The good news was there were no cameras on his way from home, and it was late at night with few witnesses. Moreover, he wore a mask and ordinary clothes. During his rampage, he was covered in black material, leaving no fingerprints or hair. As long as he cleaned up some evidence, he wouldn't be caught.

As for the trash at home, his father was a drunkard who rarely went out, and even when he did, it was to gamble or visit brothels. He had no neighbors who would worry if he disappeared for weeks. If Fu Bin got rid of his clothes and the garbage at home, his righteous identity wouldn't be exposed.

He cautiously returned home, altering his height and body shape with the black substance to mislead any potential cameras. Once back in his unmonitored residential area, he boldly entered his home.

Surveying the mess he made while hastily packing, Fu Bin took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and began cleaning. Opening his bedroom door, he noticed the trash—his father—was gone.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. His first thought was that his father hadn't died, but then he realized if that were true, he would've called an ambulance, and there would've been signs of it. Everything was quiet, with no traces of such an event.

Biting his lip, Fu Bin forced himself to stay calm. "Come out. You gave me the mask and cleaned up the trash. Surely, you're not afraid to show yourself?"

"And what do you want, Fu Bin?" The shadow assassin's crimson eyes fixed on the boy, emerging from a corner with a chilling voice.

"So, it was you. Why did you give me this mask?" Fu Bin's body pulsed with black substance as he spoke, his voice full of concern and greed. In a short time, his heart had transformed from panic to self-righteousness, believing himself to be a righteous cleaner of societal garbage. The mask was crucial to this new identity, and its original owner's presence made him anxious.

"No need to worry. The mask is yours," the shadow assassin assured, observing the plankton shifting with Fu Bin's emotions. "You're finally starting to act like a host."

"The mask you wear is one of the divine masks. There are seven in total, and I possess one as well," the shadow assassin explained earnestly. "Each mask grants unique abilities to its host. Though I am also a host, I am the custodian of all divine masks."

"Periodically, we distribute these masks to new hosts. What you do with them is your business. We even help you get established initially," the shadow assassin continued.

"All we ask is that you keep using the mask," he concluded sincerely.

"Is that so?" Fu Bin muttered, his ambitions ignited. Gazing at the dark world outside, he smiled maniacally. "Then let me change this world, cleanse the filth, and become the god of justice!"