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墨書 Inktalez
MR. K leaned slightly forward, his hands clasped on the table, his expression stern and indifferent, as if he intended to extinguish all of Li Mu's doubts in this dark space. His gaze was deep, calm yet tinged with ruthlessness, exuding a chilling authority that created an invisible pressure. At that moment, his voice was low and undeniable, the tone as cold as a verdict.
"Ghost Shadow..." he began slowly, his tone carrying an undeniable weight. "You have understood from the very beginning that this world is a cruel jungle. Here, there is no need for excessive compassion or emotion; strength and weakness, survival and extinction are all natural laws. I do not know what Mao Ba went through, nor do I care about the cause of his death. The only thing I am clear about is that he is dead, and that is a fact."
He paused for a moment, casting a fleeting glance at Li Mu, as if observing his reaction. But soon, that gaze turned cold and distant again, as if he were facing not an ally but an object, a task. "Yes, Mao Ba was indeed a capable worker—steady in character, efficient, and had certain principles he cared about. But he is dead—in this world, death means disappearance, being discarded. No matter how insignificant his death may seem or how many questions it raises, it holds no meaning for me."
MR. K's tone grew colder, imbued with a terrifying decisiveness that made Li Mu feel the profound indifference hidden within his words. "Ghost Shadow... in this world, we are merely cogs in a machine, tools to be manipulated. Even if you are the sharpest knife, you are still used by others. This system consists of countless screws and gears; Mao Ba was just one of them. Now that this screw has loosened and fallen out, another can be easily replaced at any time; the system will continue to operate without any impact."
His voice was frigid, his eyes devoid of any emotion, as if this speech was merely the professional coldness he had honed over many years. Yet the intimidation it carried made Li Mu unable to take it lightly. MR. K's words were like a cold winter wind that chilled the air in the room to suffocation, seemingly reminding Li Mu that he was just a pawn in this grand game—unable to challenge or resist, only able to obey the game's architects.
"I hope you understand my point," MR. K's voice lowered further, his tone carrying an underlying pressure while his gaze was sharp as a blade, seemingly aimed at piercing through Li Mu's resolve and doubts. "Ghost Shadow, you are just a screw like Mao Ba. The rules of this world are set by the strong; they are not for you to decide. What you need to do is maintain your position and stay away from truths that do not belong to you."
A flicker of suppressed anger flashed in Li Mu's eyes as he clenched his fists slightly, knuckles turning white. He had been coldly staring at MR. K while suppressing his inner dissatisfaction and unease; however, the anger within him could not be entirely concealed. To him, Mao Ba was not just an "ordinary screw," but a trusted partner who understood him well—a rare source of trust in this ruthless world. Now MR. K had coldly stripped away that sentiment and dismissed Mao Ba's death as an inconsequential cost; such an attitude stirred an uncontrollable surge of anger and resentment within Li Mu.
But MR. K clearly sensed Li Mu's discontent; impatience flickered in his eyes as his indifferent tone carried a ruthless warning: "Ghost Shadow, you are a smart person; you should understand my meaning. Do not let personal feelings disrupt the balance of the entire system. The matter of Mao Ba has become history; there is no need to investigate further—excessive interference will only lead you into an inescapable abyss. Do you understand?"
Suppressing his anger, Li Mu took a deep breath and replied with cold determination: "If these are merely so-called rules, then who will explain the true intent behind them? Why must we sacrifice a valuable member? Have you never questioned the cause of Mao Ba's death?"
"Ghost Shadow," MR. K's tone grew even colder as his eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a hint of threatening chill within them. "You have too many questions today. I have already given you the answer—this is the rule; there is no need for further questioning. I will not change any decisions because of a dead 'screw.' Since you have chosen this path, you must understand its costs rather than digging deeper here."
Listening to MR. K's indifferent words made it impossible for Li Mu to suppress his anger any longer; he gritted his teeth and cursed loudly, filled with confusion and rage. Why did no one care about Mao Ba's death? Why did such an important issue to him seem so trivial to MR. K? It all felt like a cruel joke—a cold reality he could not accept.
MR. K's expression remained unchanged; he simply raised his hand slightly in a dismissive gesture and said calmly: "Ghost Shadow, calm down and think carefully about the significance of this matter before we continue our discussion."
Li Mu glared coldly at Mr. K, the anger in his chest nearly suffocating him. The calm demeanor of the other man seemed to suggest that all the emotional turmoil of their conversation was unworthy of acknowledgment. After a moment of silence, Li Mu turned away, too weary to continue arguing with him. The cold atmosphere of the room and the ruthless man before him filled him with a suffocating sense of helplessness.
As he strode purposefully toward the door, Mr. K's low, icy voice pierced through the air like a sharp blade: "Remember why you are still alive, Ghost Shadow... Do not betray this place, nor your own life."
Li Mu halted, gripping the doorknob tightly as he struggled to contain his fury, a flicker of conflict evident in his eyes. He understood Mr. K's meaning and recognized the warning and reminder embedded in those words. Yet, they only deepened his frustration, a profound disappointment weighing heavily on his heart like a cold stone. Finally, he took a deep breath and, unable to mask his disdain, forcefully swung the door open and stepped out.
Inside the room, only Mr. K remained seated in his office chair, his expression still stern as if their earlier exchange had been nothing more than a routine matter. He looked down at Black Cat, who lay quietly on the desk, its fur appearing soft and smooth under the dim light. Mr. K's hand slowly reached out to Black Cat, gently stroking its back with a detached calmness, as if everything was under his control. In that cold room, only his silence and Black Cat's tranquility offered him a semblance of solace.
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