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Chapter 162: Some Nights
Uncle Kai’s house loomed at the edge of the hill like an old memory—quiet, steady, and out of place with the chaos they'd just escaped. Neither of them spoke. Their feet dragged across the dirt path, the crunch of gravel beneath them the only sound besides the distant sirens still echoing in their heads. Miles was caked in blood, drying against his skin, crusted into the seams of his shirt, his jeans, his arms. His face was smeared with it, and every step felt heavier than the last. Why had he run? Why hadn’t he just stayed, let the cops take him, let justice—or whatever version of it they believed in—decide what happened next? Then he looked at her. Lei. She hadn’t said a word since they left the school. Her arms were wrapped around herself. Her eyes were empty. But the tears were still fresh. That was why. He had run for her. Because she had looked at him like she needed him—needed someone. Because he wasn’t ready to let her go to pieces alone. He felt the urge, the respo
Chapter 161: Cost Of A Model
Miles didn’t move. He couldn’t. It was like something inside him had shattered, snapped clean in half, and buried itself somewhere deep in his chest. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t seeing. He was just... staring. At nothing. At everything. At what he’d done. Viktor's body lay there, soaked in red. Unmoving. Lifeless. A part of the courtyard now. A stain that couldn’t be washed out. And Lei—Lei was still on the ground beside him, sobbing quietly. Her hand had slid into Viktor’s, whether out of pity, guilt, or some impossible mix of both. Her shoulders shook with every breath she took. Miles could barely hear her. There was a ringing in his ears. A heavy hum like electricity beneath the skin. His breath was shallow, mechanical. He was no longer Miles Wangchun, not really. Not the boy who grew up in the tunnels, who dreamt of food and escape and Tian Lou. That boy couldn’t have done this. That boy had never crushed someone’s skull with his own hands. But he had. He did. Th
Chapter 160: Meat 'n Bones
Miles staggered to his feet, chest heaving, blood dripping from his split lip. He looked up at Viktor—his vision blurry, his mind racing. No. This wasn’t normal. Viktor wasn’t normal. How was he so fast? So strong? Miles clenched his fists and ran toward him again, forcing his tired legs to move. He ducked low and grabbed Viktor by the waist, trying to lift him and throw him across the small lawn toward a thick maple tree nearby. It should’ve worked. He had the strength—he had done crazier things. He’d crushed a metal tray into a man’s skull without thinking. He had attacked a security guard and thrown him against a wall. He knew he was strong. But Viktor… Viktor was stronger. Miles barely had time to process it before Viktor’s elbow came crashing down on his spine. The blow was sharp, brutal, and surgical—like Viktor knew exactly where to hit to cause the most pain. Miles dropped instantly. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the dirt with a heavy thud, gasping for air
Chapter 159: Wax And Bone
The night draped itself over Kowloon City like a veil dipped in ink and salt. Neon signs sputtered in the distance, casting fractured lights over the cracked concrete of the street, flickering red, green, pink, like dying fireflies. Rain hadn't fallen yet, but the air tasted like metal, and the wind was starting to hum with warning. Miles stepped out of the alley beside Lei, the soft buzz of city life dulled in his ears. The air was warm but tense, like it knew something he didn’t. Or maybe something inside him already did. They walked side by side past shuttered shops and rusted scooters, the old bones of the city crowding in, whispering stories through damp bricks. He’d never really noticed how alive the city felt at night—not in the safe houses, not in the orphanage bunkers, and definitely not on the run. But now, it was like every window was watching him. Every puddle mirrored someone he wasn’t sure he recognized. Miles Wangchun. Or just Model-13, or 14, or 412, depending on
Chapter 158: Ugly Face Of The Past
Lei heaved a heavy sigh. “I um… I met him in high school. He was the hottest guy in town. But as you must have figured, I really didn’t give a damn. I did not give a fuck about him or any other person.” She laughed bitterly, but there was no joy in it. “I cared more about rebellion. About burning down everything the world said I couldn’t touch.” Miles leaned on the wall, arms folded, eyes steady. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t smirk. Just listened. “We met at Blackwell Academy.” “That elite school up in Kowloon?” Miles asked. Lei nodded. “Elite, yeah. You remembered,” she scoffed. “Elite, it was, sure. But behind the walls, it was a pressure cooker. Rich kids. Abandoned kids. Perfect kids pretending they weren’t broken. I fit right in.” Her voice lowered. “Viktor wasn’t just charming. He was a leader. He had… this way of making you believe you were part of something bigger. Something righteous. We hated the rich. The real ones. The ones with billions who let people rot.” She t
Chapter 157: The Past That Won't Die
Outside, the streets buzzed with midday noise. When Miles flagged down a rusty old taxi, Lei raised an eyebrow. “Really, dude? A taxi? You do know what Uber is, right?” He frowned. “I… I don’t have the app.” “Wow. You really did spend half your life in a bunker. Tragic. And now you’re a millionaire. You should have your own damn car. Not be hailing taxis like an old man.” “I’m still figuring stuff out,” he said defensively. “Well, start by not flashing that black card around,” she whispered sharply. “You might as well hang a sign that says ‘please rip off my arm and steal my money.’ Bad guys can smell wealth like sharks smell blood.”********** They soon arrived at a boutique with glowing glass signage that shimmered in pink and gold. Maison de Lumière. Lei whistled. “Holy crap. This is fancy. First time I’ve been inside.” They walked in. Everything looked like it belonged in a rich kid’s fever dream—soft silks, designer sneakers, perfume hanging in the air like music. Lei da
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