Chapter 52: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada, Unaware of the Oriole Behind

Killing a monster was no different from killing any living thing – a simple stab through the heart, and death followed.

Another life extinguished.

Takezumi Kei’s dead eyes remained wide open, frozen in eternal resentment. His heart likely condemned Fang Cheng for breaking their agreement during his final moments.

If so, Fang Cheng thought the yokai should study basic logic in his next life.

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He himself was clearly a man of honor.

Fang Cheng closed Takezumi Kei’s eyelids with one hand while pressing the other against the corpse’s heart. Warm energy flowed through his fingers.

Blue text flickered in his vision:

[Energy absorption initiated…]

[Life Fragment (1/3)+1]

[Lying Demon’s Voice (1/5)+2]

The harvest proved disappointing compared to his recent gains from Heishi Youto – only one Life Fragment and two Ability Fragments. Then again, this target had been far less challenging.

New notifications appeared:

[Life (3/3) merging…]

[Life+1]

Fang Cheng smirked at the numeral shifting from 2 to 3 in his vision. “Not bad.” An extra life always warranted celebration.

He considered handling the corpse himself rather than involving Kanzaki Rin, despite her expertise in trash disposal. Better she remained ignorant – she might interfere if she learned the truth.

Dragging the body from the apartment building, Fang Cheng activated short-distance dash to evade surveillance cameras. He dumped the remains into a sewer access hole. Not foolproof, but irrelevant – nobody investigated monster deaths or sought revenge for yokai.

Returning, he scrubbed blood residue from the stairwell with mop and bucket. Night owls rarely wandered here, but daylight would bring workers.

After showering and changing clothes, Fang Cheng left again. Kanzaki Rin’s drone surveillance had dwindled to daylight hours only. His motorcycle departed unchased tonight.

He acquired a Kamen Rider-style mask and rubber gloves en route to Takezumi Kei’s disclosed location.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Area sprawled before him – chaotic surface patterns masking strict social stratification. Basic knowledge of social hierarchy revealed the truth: the entire region had become a patchwork of class-based territories divided by unbridgeable gaps. At its core lay the ruling class’s domain – the true power center governing both Tokyo and all of Area 11.

The central hub’s outskirts were a paradise for the bourgeoisie, with pristine environments and tight security. High-ranking officials and wealthy elites frequented the area, their nights drowned in luxury while the scent of cash permeated the air.

The third floor housed the middle class, including Kanzaki Rin and Fang Cheng. Their families owned properties, ensuring they wouldn’t sink to the fourth floor.

The fourth floor trapped ordinary workers and impoverished families in dilapidated shared apartments. Numb crowds of worker ants endured cramped spaces, worsening safety and squalid conditions.

Fang Cheng headed toward a cluster of shared rentals where night markets thrived more fiercely than on the third floor—survival outweighed the threat of nighttime monsters.

He soon found the remote apartment building. The elevator creaked ominously as it carried him to the fifth floor’s hallway end, where a locked door awaited.

After putting on his Kamen Rider mask and gloves, Fang Cheng used Takezumi Kei’s key to cautiously enter.

The unit was tiny: only the bedroom and bathroom were private, while the kitchen and living room were shared. Takezumi Kei’s apartment reeked of sour trash, with instant noodle cups piled in a corner.

In the bedroom, Fang Cheng discovered a bank card and passbook hidden behind the bed’s wooden panel. The passbook balance—five zeros—made his eyes widen. The bank card’s funds weren’t even included.

“Damn, this monster’s richer than me.” Clearly, Takezumi Kei lived here to hide his wealth, not from poverty.

Fang Cheng sighed. Everyone he met—human or not—pretended to be poor while secretly rolling in cash. Meanwhile, he genuinely needed to sell a kidney. Where were the sympathy messages when you needed them?

Tucking away the passbook and bank card, he realized targeting only vampires had been shortsighted. Monsters blending into human society were perfect marks too.

No hypocritical justifications—he wanted cash, abilities, Life Fragments, everything!

The tablet on the nightstand revealed something amusing: a monster in boxers, slurping instant noodles while scrolling the black market for gigs on his laptop.

Holy crap, this creature was just another wage slave! Even monsters got exploited by capitalists in this cutthroat world.

This epiphany birthed a new goal: achieve financial freedom before graduation. Never work for capitalists. Never become a corporate drone.

After copying the monster’s black market account, Fang Cheng pocketed the tablet—waste not, want not.

Whistling, he descended with his haul, planning to withdraw the money before tracking down Tsukikage Hoshi.

But downstairs, he froze. “Where’s my motorcycle?!”

The parked vehicle had vanished. “Which bastard stole my bike?!”

……

VRROOOM!

A young man zoomed through streets on a sleek motorcycle, scattering pedestrians. He skidded to a stop outside an auto repair shop.

Several youths emerged, eyeing the bike greedily. “Sweet ride, Yukikawa! Where’d you nab it?”

“Isn’t this the new XR model? You struck gold!”

“Let me test it!”

Matsumoto Yukikawa smirked. “Some kid practically handed it—”

“YUKIKAWA!!”

A roar interrupted him. A ponytailed woman in grease-stained overalls stormed out, wrench in hand. Her left sleeve revealed toned muscles; her right hand stayed gloved and bandaged.

Despite her beauty, Nangong Saye’s fury cowed the youths. Matsumoto Yukikawa scrambled off the bike. “Boss, it’s just some outsider’s—”

“Move. It. Now.” She hefted the wrench. “Or I’ll toss you to the police myself.”

As Yukikawa revved the engine to flee—THUD! A flying brick knocked him and the motorcycle over.

Everyone turned to see a handsome guy clutching a tablet, chest heaving.

“Screw your ancestors!” he spat. “Who dares steal MY wheels?!”