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墨書 Inktalez
The night was as dark as ink, and the tires of the car made a dull sound on the crumbling street. Huang Haoran sat in the back seat, the window half-open, one elbow lazily resting on the window frame. A slight chill blew in, stirring the strands of hair on his forehead. His gaze was sharp, his expression cold, like a silent statue, as he watched the target gradually approaching.
Ahead lay the C City branch of Foot Odor Energy Company, crouched in the darkness like a wounded beast. The outer walls were riddled with bullet holes, as if washed by a merciless war. The glass was shattered, and the iron doors twisted; what had once been a newly completed building now resembled a torn memory.
Under several makeshift tents, employees rested quietly. Some had their heads wrapped, others clutched their shoulders, and the bandages on their arms and cheeks glowed white in the night. Medical kits were scattered across the ground, and simple folding beds were crammed together in a row. The injured silently gazed into the distance, as if waiting for rain or for judgment.
The car slowly came to a stop.
Huang Haoran pushed open the car door, and the sound of his polished shoes hitting the ground echoed sharply in the empty street. He stood up straight and surveyed his surroundings.
The entire night in C City seemed to remain silent at his arrival.
The wind blew through the broken high-rises, swirling up scraps of paper and dust from the corners of the street, sweeping past several unfinished buildings that stood like abandoned shells, whistling ominously as if a group of ghosts in the shadows whispered in his ear: "Leave... you do not belong here..."
This city was dead.
Gangsters, corruption, poverty, riots—the accumulated despair over the years made it resemble a decaying corpse. Tonight, it seemed that the entire city was using the sound of the wind to reject them, those "Invaders" attempting to revive it.
Huang Haoran stood between the darkness and bullet holes, yet a cold smile slowly crept onto his lips.
"Hmph... drive us away? This wind is still too weak."
He raised both hands and took a deep breath of air laced with blood and ashes, as if savoring an extremely bitter cup of black coffee.
"Let me see just how deep C City's hell truly is... I am only just prepared to turn it into paradise."
He stepped forward with steady and powerful strides. In that moment, he was not merely a boss visiting the scene; he was an emperor descending onto the battlefield with vengeance and a fire for reconstruction.
As Huang Haoran stepped through the half-collapsed side door of the branch office, not a single person looked up.
The broken neon lights flickered with intermittent red glows, like a heart beating weakly. The air inside was thick with the lingering scents of gunpowder, blood, disinfectant, and freshly swept dust—a mix of anxiety and reconstruction after a disaster.
He stood at the doorway, gazing at the scene before him.
Everyone was in motion.
Some knelt on the ground, scrubbing the bloodstains from shattered tiles, while others pushed carts filled with debris, transporting them to the back. A few technicians huddled around a warped control panel, attempting to repair the core data system inside.
Their movements were swift, orderly, and remarkably coordinated. No one raised their voice or complained; even those bandaged and leaning on crutches gritted their teeth and continued working. This was not coercion; it was some kind of… internal drive.
Huang Haoran squinted, his gaze sweeping over the group. His steps were measured; each footfall echoed crisply against the rubble-strewn floor. Yet when he reached the center, the people merely glanced up briefly before returning to their tasks.
No one rushed forward to cheer for him, nor did anyone pause to greet him; not a single person called out his name.
But this disregard did not anger him; instead, it brought a deep smile to his lips.
"Interesting..." he murmured softly. "They can't even be bothered to turn around when I show up?"
Watching these individuals with their near-manic focus, he couldn't help but think: although most of them had been hypnotized by my Foot Odor, this level of efficiency and drive couldn’t be achieved solely through hypnosis.
He moved to a corner and spotted a young female employee wiping her eyes, her body trembling slightly as she continued to work on repairing a severed energy conduit. The tool in her hand shook due to her unhealed wounds, yet she never paused.
In that moment, he suddenly understood.
**This is not brainwashing. This is faith.**
It was Lin Tianyou who had gradually pulled them from this broken city with the belief in "trusting this plan," pushing each of them into the battlefield one by one.
Huang Haoran fell silent for a few seconds, looking toward the monitoring room on the second floor, his gaze sharp and wide as a blade.
"Lin Tianyou..." He slowly smiled, murmuring, "It seems you... truly are my best choice."
Huang Haoran ascended the stairs with steady steps, each tread of the iron staircase vibrating slightly beneath his feet, echoing the rhythm of a general marching onto the battlefield.
At the end of the corridor, the door to the monitoring room was slightly ajar, with traces of dust and fingerprints lingering on the frame. He reached out and gently pushed the door open; it creaked softly, as if alerting those inside that someone had entered.
But there was no response from within.
Under the dim yellow light, Lin Tianyou leaned back in a swivel chair, his head tilted to one side, his glasses slipping down his nose. His mouth was slightly open, resembling a child who had exhausted all their energy and collapsed. Scattered across the desk were several oil-stained blueprints, while the screen flickered with energy output reports and damaged surveillance footage. It was clear he had pushed himself through work until his body finally succumbed to fatigue.
Huang Haoran observed this scene without mockery or further words.
He stepped closer, glancing at the data on the screen before looking at the notes on the desk marked with red ink. The hasty yet precise formulas were filled with strokes that intertwined engineering and fervent belief.
He furrowed his brow, a rare softness emerging in his gaze.
"Working continuously for over twenty-four hours... Is this guy trying to fix this city with his life?" he murmured to himself.
Turning around, he waved his hand toward the door. A security guard promptly appeared, standing at attention awaiting orders.
"Get him to the car and let him rest properly," Huang Haoran said, his tone calm yet firm. "Remember to adjust the heating and prepare hot water. Anyone who dares to wake him will find themselves tossed into the energy furnace for a night."
"Yes!" The guard nodded immediately, carefully entering the room as if cradling a sacred object and lifting Lin Tianyou from the chair.
Huang Haoran remained in place, watching Lin Tianyou's weary form still clutching onto his blueprints. He bent down gently to pull out a sheet of paper and placed it neatly on the edge of the desk.
"Very well, I'll take care of the rest."
He stood up, loosened his tie, and removed his suit jacket, tossing it aside casually. With two buttons undone on his white shirt, revealing his collarbone and slightly damp skin, he did not resemble a CEO; rather, he appeared as a general preparing to enter battle himself.
He stepped out of the monitoring room and stood at the top of the stairs, overlooking the entire scene. He shouted loudly:
"Everyone, stop what you're doing!"
The crowd looked up in surprise, and when they saw that familiar yet imposing face, the atmosphere instantly erupted.
"President Huang is here!"
"It's really President Huang—!"
Some gasped in awe, while others even had tears in their eyes.
"I am taking over the reconstruction efforts here!" Huang Haoran declared as he descended the stairs, his voice resonating like a war drum. "Everyone, open your eyes wide and stand tall! This is not just a repair; it is—rebirth!"
He reached the center of the room, hands on his hips, surveying the area with a solemn smile.
"We at Foot Odor Energy Company are not to be defeated; we are so memorable that they will forever remember our existence."
A cheer erupted from the crowd, their morale ignited like the first torch lit amidst the ruins. Huang Haoran's gaze was fierce, his voice booming:
"Whoever dares to let this fire go out, I will be the first to hold them accountable."
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