Chapter 64: The Controller

This journey felt exceptionally long. When Mu Yu woke once more, a massive ball of fire at the horizon exhaled rays of light, staining the clouds with the color of autumn leaves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

A gentle male voice sounded beside him. Mu Yu turned his head to find a pair of bright eyes.

Their owner was absorbed in gazing out the window at the dawn, speaking to Mu Yu yet unwilling to spare even a glance from the spectacle.

“Every time I see the dawn rise as usual, I’m grateful I didn’t die in the night. For people like us, to die silently in darkness is far too tragic.”

“And you are…?”

Mu Yu spoke with furrowed brows. Having someone intrude upon his private space was infuriating, yet seeing the solemn expression on the man’s face, he found himself reluctant to voice his displeasure.

“Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself.”

Just then, the sun rose completely. The man took out a tissue from his pocket to wipe away tears at the corner of his eyes—the morning sunlight was simply too intense.

“My name is Su Ningguang. I am also a Controller bound for the Academy. I apologize for intruding into your cabin.”

Remorse was written plainly on Su Ningguang’s face.

“The cabin assigned to me happened not to have a view of the dawn, so…”

Mu Yu and the others were currently aboard an airplane. Since the Academy could not be built near the city, they had to transfer between several modes of transport.

“Next time, remember to knock.”

A raspy voice came from beneath the mask. Su Ningguang looked at the Controller before him with surprise—he seemed a solitary figure, but was unexpectedly amiable.

To trespass upon a Controller’s private space was a perilous act; their fragile state could prompt deadly retaliation. Su Ningguang had prepared to offer compensation, but the matter was dismissed with such ease.

“It’s an issue with my item.”

Su Ningguang explained with a wry smile, pulling his hand from his pocket. The cord around his wrist shimmered with a dull blood-red glow.

“My item gradually diminishes my presence. In fact, I have been knocking at your door for hours.”

“So you’re here to seek a solution?”

Mu Yu asked with curiosity. He had to admit, the powers of items were utterly irrational—even something as intangible as presence could be forcibly reduced.

“More or less. Now, ordinary people can barely see or remember me. If it worsens, I will vanish without a trace.”

Su Ningguang spoke with remarkable candor. After all, the Controller before him would soon forget his existence once he departed—there was nothing he couldn’t share.

To be forgotten by those you love, to wander the world like a lonely spirit.

Su Ningguang’s item was exceptionally rare, even among all those ever recorded. If he fully activated it, he could be forgotten by the laws of physics themselves, attaining a state almost like a soul—unseen, unobservable, untouchable.

Yet because of that incident, his family forgot every memory of him.

Mu Yu sensed beneath the calm exterior of the young man before him a surge of grief and sorrow. It was clear why he so longed for the dawn; only when warmed by sunlight could Su Ningguang feel he was still alive.

“My name is… Shadow.”

He hesitated, then extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

Su Ningguang smiled as he shook Mu Yu’s hand. Under the sunlight, his face was nearly translucent.

……………………………………………………

“Passengers, please disembark in an orderly fashion. Wishing you a pleasant life.”

A recorded sweet voice came from the speaker. As the plane shuddered violently, Mu Yu’s door was knocked on carefully.

“Boss, are you awake, boss?”

“What is it?”

Shadow’s distinctive voice answered from behind the door. Only then did Fat Bear breathe a sigh of relief, opening the door just a crack, his rugged face squashed in the gap, looking comically awkward.

“Boss, we’ve arrived. Will you come with us?”

Despite his fear of Shadow, Fat Bear dutifully performed his role as an escort.

“Fine. Will you come with me?”

Then Fat Bear saw Shadow rise from the sofa, his masked face turned toward the empty space beside him.

In Fat Bear’s view, there was no one there, yet his prickling intuition warned him that something threatening lurked on that chair.

The sunlight was strong, but Fat Bear felt a chill deep inside. Had this boss lost control to the point of affecting his surroundings? Wasn’t this supposed to be a simple escort job? The team leader has ruined me!

Su Ningguang noticed Fat Bear’s bewildered expression; he was obviously not new to such situations and waved farewell to Mu Yu with a smile.

“No need. My circumstances are special. Someone will come for me. See you at the Academy.”

Or rather, no one but a specialist could even see him. Mu Yu nodded, tidied his belongings, and followed the nervous Fat Bear out.

This aircraft, which usually carried hundreds, now had fewer than twenty people, crew included. These were all the newcomers from Fengzhou and neighboring cities; among Controllers, only Mu Yu and Su Ningguang were present.

“You just need to verify your identity there. I have to take them to register for enrollment.”

Fat Bear led Mu Yu through a long corridor, his clothes soaked with sweat. He feared that if Shadow lost control, his hefty body might be reduced to a handful of dust.

At the exit, Fat Bear hurriedly bid farewell, pointed the direction, and quickly departed with the group of ability users.

“Hey, wait!”

Mu Yu called out, half laughing, only to see Fat Bear quicken his pace, disappearing into the crowd as if fleeing for his life.

“I’m a newcomer too…”

Mu Yu scratched his head in resignation, gazing blankly at the surroundings.

Though called an Academy, it resembled more a city—towering buildings stood side by side, bustling with ordinary people.

But the city differed from Mu Yu’s memories; the vehicles on the streets bore unfamiliar styles, unlike anything he had seen.

“Hello, you must be a new student.”

Just as he was at a loss, a man approached with a gentle smile.

“From the Academy?”

Mu Yu sized him up: upright posture, suit, the picture of an elite.

“Yes. Come with me.”

The man nodded, indifferent to Mu Yu’s reaction, and led the way.

“No one followed you, right? Our situation isn’t ideal—if discovered, it would be trouble.”

Mu Yu considered this. The government was indeed working to cover up the events; should someone track his journey here, it would indeed be disastrous.

So Mu Yu responded with a smile, though his voice, filtered through the mask, sounded deep and hoarse.

“No one. Don’t worry, I won’t cause you any trouble.”

The man nodded with satisfaction—this newcomer understood the ropes, unlike the last, who carried a tracker unknowingly and forced them to hide for ages.

He walked briskly, veering off the main road into an alley. After numerous twists and turns, Mu Yu could see no one about.

“Good, I have high hopes for you. People like us really shouldn’t expose our identities. It’s good you’re aware.”

The man stopped in front of a house, glanced at Mu Yu’s clothing, and couldn’t help but pat him approvingly on the shoulder.

He had worried the newcomer wouldn’t know the rules and had brought an extra set of clothes, but now it seemed unnecessary.

“Wait here a moment.”

The man entered the house. After the sound of rustling clothes, he emerged dressed much like Mu Yu.

A long robe concealing his body, a jet-black mask—they now looked like members of some cult standing side by side.

Mu Yu couldn’t help but think this, then shook his head in amusement. How could it be a cult? They were civil servants, certified and everything.

“Let’s go. The others must be impatient.”

The instructor rhythmically knocked on the wall, and Mu Yu noticed an iron door there.

It had been cleverly disguised, blending perfectly into the wall; without the instructor’s action, Mu Yu would never have noticed.

“Why so slow?”

The person behind the door peered through a small slit, then complained as he opened it.

“A newcomer’s flight was delayed. The Grand Master asked me to fetch him.”

The instructor explained casually, leading Mu Yu inside. He seemed to hold some status here; many bowed as they passed.

“Even the Grand Master cares about this?”

The doorkeeper didn’t leave but followed along, his gaze toward Mu Yu somewhat peculiar.

“He’s the Grand Master’s…”

“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t.”

The instructor rebuked him sharply, then turned to Mu Yu with warmth.

“The Grand Master is quite concerned about you. The orientation is important, so he couldn’t come personally. Don’t let it trouble you.”

“It’s alright.”

Mu Yu’s hoarse voice came from beneath the hood, but thanks to the mask, neither the instructor nor the other man noticed anything amiss.

‘What’s going on? How did a proper official organization end up looking like some shady underground cult? Grand Master—could he be a relative of Mo Yan?’

With no evidence, Mu Yu opened his mouth but said nothing in the end. Perhaps headquarters just liked this style.

But as the ornate door ahead swung open, Mu Yu’s face beneath the mask twitched involuntarily.

Dozens of masked, hooded figures turned toward him in unison, their eyes deep and silent.