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At dusk, deep clouds drifted over Xisis Port, obscuring the setting sun, and the sky abruptly darkened.
Soon after, accompanied by furious winds and thunder, torrential rain drenched the entirety of South Los.
Large raindrops pelted the windows of 333 Russell Street, converging into rivulets before they could splatter, quickly spilling over the window frame, cascading down the second-story walls, and rushing over the slanted roof of the first floor. Half streamed toward the ground along the eaves, the other half seeped through the roof's seams, dripping into the hall and landing in the midst of a crimson puddle.
The rain diluted the color of fresh blood, and just as the resulting ripples began to subside, a palm slapped onto the surface, shattering the accumulated water.
Mo Qishang propped himself up with one hand, shakily rising to his feet.
Away from the disturbance of the palm, the dripping rain quickly gathered a pool, mixing with the blood, reflecting Mo Qishang like a red mirror—clad in a brown vest and a white shirt.
Mo Qishang stared blankly at his youthful appearance in the bloodstained reflection.
The crimson distorted the youthfulness.
It made the innocence seem eerie.
Frowning slightly, Mo Qishang subconsciously wanted to move away, but as soon as he did, an unbearable pain erupted from the back of his head.
Hiss!
Mo Qishang inhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing immediately after.
He remembered what had happened before.
"Was I hit by a truck?"
"All I wanted was to fetch some fries at the docks!"
Mo Qishang murmured to himself.
Suddenly!
His expression jolted.
Because—
"My phone's browsing history... wasn't cleared!"
Realizing he hadn't accomplished that critical task even after dragging his half-body over ten meters, Mo Qishang's muscles tensed instantly, particularly his ten toes which gripped the soles of his shoes firmly.
That was the instinctual reaction to the ultimate embarrassment of social death.
But soon, Mo Qishang couldn't concern himself with that anymore.
More intense pain arrived, causing Mo Qishang's eyes to widen as memories flooded his mind, force-fed like a duck—
"Hiss!"
"I am Arthur Kledos. Orphaned at a young age, I was raised by my grandfather Old Charlie, along with two uncles and an aunt.
Uncle Winters, who was most favored to inherit the family business, disappeared three years ago due to family affairs.
Uncle Drake sent a letter six months ago, claiming he had become an 'Apprentice Knight' in Woodlace Fort up north.
Aunt Cassandra was sent to a girls' school in Inner Bay by Grandfather a year ago.
And I, Arthur Kledos, should have been the sole heir to the family business, but Grandfather did not wish it so. He hoped I could have a better life, just like Aunt Cassandra.
But I didn't want that. I wanted to inherit the family business and become an exceptional 'Spirit Medium'!
So, while Grandfather went to Barny to fulfill a client's request, I too, took on a task to expel an evil spirit on my own..."
Moments of 'Arthur Kledos' life flashed through his mind like scenes from a black-and-white film.
Mo Qishang couldn't help but furrow his brows.
He didn't mind living here using 'Arthur Kledos' identity, nor did he mind that the Kledos Family's business was that of spirit mediums.
Even if it was an outright deception, he didn't care.
What he minded was the man before him—a man with a square face, sporting a meticulously trimmed Van Dyke beard, dressed in a suit, vest, white shirt, and trousers that had just come into vogue in Inner Bay.
The man was the client of Arthur Kledos's current mission.
He was also the person who knocked him out with a blunt hit as soon as he walked through the door.
Undoubtedly, the man looked quite respectable, and his square face allowed him to easily gain people's favor.
Arthur Kledos had been deceived by the man's appearance and attire, leaving him without the slightest guard.
And the man?
He showed no restraint, intent on murder—the blow landed so hard that he clearly heard the back of 'his' skull crack.
Arthur Kledos died with that blow.
He, Mo Qishang, came back to life, borrowing Arthur Kledos's body.
He, now, had become Arthur Kledos.
At this moment, the man appeared overjoyed to see him awaken—
"Really, to have such a special bloodline! Though not truly awakened, what could be better for me?
I thought it was all an exaggeration, just a hope against hope!
But who would've thought, it's actually true!
'The Kledos Family's bloodline is indeed this miraculous!
My luck is too good!"
Looking at the man standing before him, beaming with joy, Arthur, who had stepped into his predecessor's role, really wanted to tell the man that the so-called miraculous bloodline was just a story 'his grandfather' Old Charlie concocted for better business. The 'Kledos Family' had no magical bloodline; they were just a normal family.
As for 'his' declaration more than once in public that he had perfectly inherited the 'Spirit Medium Bloodline'?
That was simply the rebellion of a young man pushed to study hard.
But Arthur Kledos didn't end up speaking.
Because, even if he did, it wouldn't change the man's decision.
The situation had already become one where he was meat on the cutting board, at the mercy of another.
But he truly felt wronged, having to pay for the vanity and competitiveness of a 'predecessor' who was just a rebellious teenager: to engage in a deadly fight with a lunatic!
To Arthur, anyone who kept talking about bloodlines and miracles was clearly insane.
Arthur internally mocked, yet his hands stealthily reached for his boots.
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