145: Mr. Righteousness

That article was very long.

There was no exquisite layout, and the paragraphs were jumbled,

even mixed with a few glaring typos.

Evidently, the poster used their phone's built-in input method,

poking it out with individual fingers while in a state of extreme exhaustion and rage.

But every single word,

was like an iron nail driven into a wooden plank—crude, yet firm.

[I am a rough man, I don't understand literature,

nor do I understand what profound theory that “human blood steamed bun” you talk about is.

I only know that last night I stood on that rooftop for three hours, enduring three hours of cold wind.]

[That girl was only twenty-one years old.

When the forensic doctor lifted her out of the green belt, her hand couldn't be pried open.

She was tightly clutching an unlabeled glass bottle in her palm.]

[That was the life-saving straw the scammers gave her, and also the ghostly hand that pushed her off the building.]

[I've been in criminal investigation for twenty years; I've seen countless bodies and have long been numb to it.

But this time, I truly felt choked up.

Because just yesterday afternoon, this girl called that “beauty loan” company, crying and begging for a few days' extension.

We retrieved the recording from their side, and the person only replied:

Haven't died yet? If you're not dead, go sell yourself. Come back and pay when you've sold enough.]

[And then, she really died.]

[I just took a moment to look at the novel written by the Hell Dream Weaver.

Some people are calling him dark and saying he's chasing clout.

I think the criticism is wrong.

I just want to say one thing: it was written too lightly.

The evil in reality is far dirtier, rottener, and more repulsive than the man-eating Fox Immortal in the novel.]

[Those loan shark bastards don't need demonic arts.

A few deceptive contracts, a few threatening phone calls,

are enough to tear a living person apart and consume them, not even spitting out the bone fragments.

They stare at these naive children like meat on a cutting board.]

[This novel isn't consuming a human blood steamed bun; it's performing an autopsy.

The author peeled back the layer of glamour, exposing the rotten flesh and foul-smelling bones inside for you to see.

He is telling those foolish children who are still dreaming of becoming beautiful:

Look clearly, beneath this is not a fairy tale—it's hell.]

[If this is called chasing clout, then I hope there is more of this kind of clout.

If someone had written about this horror sooner, even if it only managed to scare one person,

even if only one girl was too afraid to sign that document,

perhaps no one would have jumped off that rooftop.]

[Finally, one last thing: we are currently handling the case.

Those loan sharks and the bastards selling unethical beauty products—not one of them will escape.

I am a materialist, but this time, I hope the hell written by that author is real.

Because only that place is fit for those beasts.]

The post's popularity soared like a rocket.

The comment section, which had originally been filled with hostility, suddenly experienced a break.

Those keyboard warriors clamoring for a ban and calling the author unethical,

seemed to have their throats suddenly choked, unable to utter a sound.

The comment section, which had originally refreshed hundreds of times per second, suddenly experienced a break.

The bullet comments clamoring for a ban and hurling insults,

were instantly extinguished by an invisible large hand.

In front of the screens, countless fingers poised to type stopped mid-air.

A full five minutes passed.

The first new comment cautiously appeared.

[Old Liu from Shancheng Medical University]: I am a plastic surgeon. Real-name verification.

I also read that article.

To be honest, it was more effective than us earnestly trying to dissuade a hundred girls from getting illegal cosmetic procedures.

Fear, sometimes, is the best vaccine.

This sentence completely ignited the shift in public opinion.

[A Little Transparent]: I cried... but not because I was moved, I was scared to tears.

I had originally scheduled a consultation for tomorrow and was going to process a loan installment plan.

After reading the police officer's words, and then that chapter by Dream Weaver... I just blocked the agent.

Thank you, Dream Weaver, for saving my miserable life.

[Furious Old Bro]: Screw that ferry convenience store!

The kind of story that forcefully sentimentalizes by writing dead people as angels—*that's* consuming the human blood steamed bun!

The Dream Weaver is ruthless, but he is saving lives!

Hong Guo Net, the review section for soul ferry.

The rating data began to fluctuate wildly.

From the rock bottom of 9.4, it soared all the way up, turning red,

firmly nailing itself back onto the altar of 9.9.

No one was cursing anymore.

Hundreds of thousands of comments converged into the same sentence, flooding the entire page:

[A Gentleman's Great Righteousness.]

...At the same time, at Bi Ge Chinese Network Headquarters.

There was no sound in the conference room,

only the buzzing of the projector, which sounded like the gasp of a dying person.

Editor-in-Chief Jia Yong stared intently at the data on the screen, his eyes bloodshot.

The trending topic they had originally purchased at a high price:

#HellDreamMakerHumanBloodSteamedBun#

was now being firmly trampled underfoot by a new trending topic, ground into the dust:

#FearIsTheBestVaccine#

And their proud work, the ferry universe masterpiece ferry convenience store,

had completely fallen, turning into a public restroom for netizens to vent their anger.

“What's going on? Where are the water armies? Control the comments!”

Jia Yong smashed his teacup onto the table, splashing tea everywhere.

The Operations Manager wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice trembling:

“Editor-in-Chief, we can't control it... The Water Army Leader just left the group chat,

He said this job was too damaging to his karmic virtue and he was afraid of shortening his lifespan, so he returned the money.”

“What? Returned it? These guys suddenly developed a sense of responsibility at a time like this?”

Jia Yong roared, the veins on his neck bulging like earthworms.

“Also...”

The Head of the Technical Department swallowed, his voice quieter than a mosquito's.

“Our APP rating... dropped from 4.5 to 2.2.

The app store sent a warning saying we are suspected of malicious marketing and false advertising, and we must be taken down for rectification.”

Liu Yong's body swayed, and his vision went dark.

But this was not the most fatal blow.

The office door was violently pushed open.

The secretary clutched a fax paper, forgetting to even knock, her face as white as paper.

“Editor-in-Chief... the Cyberspace Administration, the National Press and Publication Administration, and the Cyber Police... have jointly issued a summons for an interview.”

“Bang!”

Liu Yong slumped onto his chair, his eyes devoid of spirit.

It's over.

This time, they hadn't just kicked a steel plate.

They had stepped directly on a landmine.

It was just writing a web novel... was it necessary to summon the entire state apparatus?

...Jiangcheng, SOHO Future City.

Outside the window, the city lights still flickered, and the traffic converged into a red river.

Lin Que looked at the post on the screen with the ID “Preface to the Human World” and remained silent for a long time.

He didn't know the poster's name or appearance.

But that didn't stop him from reaching across the cold screen

and saluting this unknown police officer in his heart.

His phone vibrated.

Hong Hu's message popped up,

the triumphant ecstasy was palpable even across the network cable.

[Hong Hu]: Great Master! Bi Ge has collapsed! Completely collapsed!

ferry convenience store was just taken down across the entire network!

I heard their Editor-in-Chief was invited for tea! Hahaha, who can Heaven spare!

[Hong Hu]: Now the entire network is praising you! They're calling you the Dark Guardian!

Do you think you should strike while the iron is hot and post some kind of statement?

Lin Que looked at the screen, his expression not easing up because of the victory.

He silently watched the stream of “A Gentleman's Great Righteousness” comments.

After a long time, his fingers tapped the keyboard a few times.

[Mu Xia]: No.

[Mu Xia]: This is inherently a heavy topic; it does not require applause.

He closed the webpage.

The screen went dark, reflecting the young man's slightly tired but exceptionally clear eyes.

Outside the window, the night was deep.

The city's neon lights still flickered, like countless tireless eyes.

Lin Que glanced at the online submission results that Shen Qingqiu had just sent,

and placed his phone face down on the desk.

True hell often resides in the human world.

And all he could do,

was to light the lamp a little brighter,

a little brighter still...