When did the world become like this?
Wang Yanfei's consciousness drifted between drowsiness and clarity. The jostling of the vehicle made the liquid inside the tank gently sway, bringing an unsettling, sticky sensation. Tubes were inserted into both his arms, a dull and foreign soreness seeping through his limbs. His lower half, now missing, was crudely replaced by some kind of cold mechanical apparatus. Every bump in the road sent stinging protests from these newly grafted parts, as if his body was rejecting this forced integration.
The exterior of the tank was covered by a rough, opaque cloth, blocking out all light. Only the humming friction of wheels against the ground and the occasional clank of metal filled his ears. This enclosed environment wrapped around him, thick and suffocating, trapping him in a fear so deep it sank into his bones.
He didn't know what the future held. He didn't know what awaited him next.
The only thing that could offer him a sliver of calm was the image of his sister. Her smile surfaced in his mind, a fleeting warmth in the abyss. He could almost picture her—perhaps still in that small apartment, meticulously planning for work, believing that her younger brother was out there striving to make a name for himself.
"She must be doing well…" Wang Yanfei murmured inwardly. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the despair surrounding him, letting his thoughts drift back to the past.
It was a bright morning when he had received his acceptance letter. That moment, he could hardly believe his eyes. He had been so overwhelmed with excitement that he skipped breakfast and sprinted all the way home just to share the good news with his sister.
She had looked at him, her expression a mixture of pride and relief. "Our Yanfei is going places!" she had said, giving his shoulder a gentle pat. "Once you're in school, study hard. Don't waste this chance."
Back then, Wang Yanfei had been filled with nothing but hope. He had answered with absolute certainty, "Don't worry, Sis. I'll make you proud!"
To celebrate, his sister had even spent half a month's salary to take him to a high-end restaurant—somewhere neither of them had ever been before. Everything in that place had seemed surreal to him. The fine tableware, the impeccable service, the polite demeanor of the staff—he had felt, for the first time, that the future was within reach.
When the bill arrived, his sister had passed it to the server with slight hesitation, but she had handled it with composure, ensuring the entire process appeared dignified. Watching her, Wang Yanfei had felt his determination solidify.
"Sis, I swear, one day I'll give you a life where you never have to worry about money again," he had promised, his voice filled with the unshakable conviction of youth.
That was the brightest moment of his life. He had believed that effort alone could change everything, that the world was fair, and that fate would eventually reward those who worked hard. He had embarked on the road to his future, full of dreams.
But fate had slapped him in the face.
He still remembered that day vividly—kneeling outside his professor's office, his voice raw from pleading, begging to know who had stolen his exam results, who had framed him and pushed him toward expulsion.
The professor had remained silent.
In the end, he had simply written two characters on Wang Yanfei's palm—Wang Qiu.
His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, but the pain was nothing compared to the searing wound left by that name. He knew who Wang Qiu was—the son of an executive, a golden child of the school, standing at the peak of privilege. And he? He was nothing.
That day, the rain had been relentless, cold and merciless. He had waited in the downpour for five hours, just to block Wang Qiu at the entrance of Xingyao Club, demanding an explanation.
But he had never even made it past the door.
The suited guards at the entrance had sneered at him, looking down at him as if he were a rat crawling out of a gutter.
"You? Get lost. This isn't a place for people like you." Their voices dripped with contempt, as if acknowledging his presence was a waste of time.
Thrown to the ground, soaked and humiliated, he had watched the glowing lights of the club's grand hall, biting his lip so hard it bled. He had trembled—not just from the cold, but from the sheer helplessness burning inside him.
He had never told his sister what had happened.
He couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes. Instead, he had buried the humiliation deep in his heart, taking on whatever jobs he could find just to survive. But the anger—like a festering wound—never left him. Every time he thought about what had been stolen from him, his chest tightened with rage.
Later, he didn't dare to tell his sister about this. He was afraid that she would be disappointed and worried, so he could only work outside alone to barely make a living. But anger was like a thorn, always piercing his heart. Every time he thought of everything that was taken away, his heart felt as uncomfortable as if it was burned by fire.
By chance, he saw a luxury car in a secluded alley. The familiar figure standing next to the car made his blood boil instantly-Wang Qiu! He was entangled with a woman, with a frivolous look, and he didn't care about everything around him.
Wang Yanfei's fingers had curled into fists, his knuckles cracking. He had picked up a rusted iron rod from the ground, eyes blazing with fury, stepping forward from the shadows.
If he could just kill this man, maybe he could take back everything that had been taken from him.
But before he could even get close, two towering bodyguards had lunged at him.
He hadn't even had time to react.
Pinned to the ground, the iron rod slipped from his grip, and then the blows came—relentless and merciless. Each punch, each kick sent searing pain through his body, the world turning black at the edges.
"Who's this?" Wang Qiu's voice had been lazy, indifferent.
A nobody who wants to die," one of the guards had sneered.
"Forget it. Don't kill him—too much trouble." Wang Qiu had waved a hand dismissively, his tone filled with condescension. "Just toss him somewhere. Give him a lesson. He needs to know his place."
The last thing Wang Yanfei had felt was a sharp, brutal kick to his stomach before everything went dark.
------------------
After a shake, the jar was lifted up roughly, and Wang Yanfei's body hit the inner wall with the shake, and there was a stinging pain where the tube was inserted into his body. His thoughts were interrupted, and there was a dim scene outside the glass cover in front of him. He hadn't adapted to this depressing environment before he heard a familiar voice in his ears.
"Alright, kid," Dr. Lin's voice carried an unsettling amusement. "We've finally reached my base."
Wang Yanfei shifted his gaze, peering out from the tank.
Scattered mechanical parts, rust-streaked walls, and flickering lights—this place looked like an abandoned underground garage, the air thick with the smell of metal and mildew.
Dr. Lin stood next to a patched-up aircraft, his hands busy with a wrench and some components. The machine looked like it had been stitched together from discarded scraps, its hull cracked and scarred, with obvious signs of crude welding. The engine groaned under the weight of old age, coughing out a series of unsettling clangs, as if threatening to fall apart at any moment.
Dr. Lin glanced back at him, smirking. "Be patient. I'll get to your surgery in a bit. First, I need to see if this piece of junk can still fly. It's been years since I put it together, no idea if it still works."
Wang Yanfei didn't respond.
He simply stared at the man, cold and silent.
The prolonged submersion and the relentless jolting had drained what little strength he had left. He closed his eyes again, refusing to entertain the madness unfolding around him.
Dr. Lin, however, was entirely unfazed.
He continued working, adjusting some dials and switches. The aircraft let out a screeching whine, then fell silent again.
The doctor squinted at it for a moment before making a few more tweaks.
"Well, at least it didn't explode," he mused, patting the aircraft's side with satisfaction. "Once your surgery's done, we'll be flying out of this dump. Don't worry—your modifications will be one of a kind. You're gonna love it."