EVIL RISING AGAIN!-Chapter 7: Mask of Influence

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The city was painted in twilight, the air laced with whispers of ambition and decay. Tian Mo stood before his mirror, adjusting the collar of his crisp, black shirt. His reflection offered a familiar yet foreign sight—the same boy who once slouched through school halls now held himself with the confidence of a king cloaked in shadows.

It had been three days since the lottery funds arrived.

Three days since he began reshaping his world.

His penthouse apartment, secured under a dummy corporation, had already been reinforced with spiritual formations and surveillance systems disguised as modern tech. The demonic runes etched into the walls pulsed beneath their concealment, feeding on ambient energy. It wasn't much, but it was a foundation.

He sipped black tea laced with a drop of his own refined Qi, letting the bitter strength root him deeper in clarity. He had stepped into Stage Two: Qi Awakening. His senses had expanded, his mind sharper, and his aura now carried a subtle weight that unsettled those around him.

And yet, the true game hadn't begun.

Today, he would begin casting his web.

At school, the shift was unmistakable. Students who once ignored him now regarded him with vague unease. Teachers paused longer when their eyes met his. No one could explain it, but something primal in their instincts screamed caution.

He walked through the halls like a specter with substance—silent, untouchable.

And she was watching.

Anna Miller.

She sat with her usual crowd at lunch, laughing at something shallow. But every few moments, her eyes drifted to him—uncertain, intrigued, wanting. The seed was blooming faster than expected. Her emotional state was already entangled with him, thanks to the lingering effects of the charm-infused Qi he'd subtly used during their first encounter.

He sat beneath the oak tree outside the cafeteria. His presence there was calculated—isolated, yet visible. Magnetic. Predictably, she approached.

"You've been different lately," she said casually, her voice trying to sound aloof.

Tian Mo didn't look at her right away. He finished the sentence he was reading from a cultivation manual cleverly disguised within a literature book. Then, he met her gaze.

"Different how?"

She hesitated. "I don't know... more confident. More... intense."

He smiled slightly. "Maybe I stopped pretending."

Anna blinked. "Pretending?"

"To be less than what I am."

A silence passed between them, charged with tension.

She looked away, her face pink. "I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come to my house this weekend? My parents are out of town. I thought we could... study."

Hook, line, and bait.

He gave a slow nod. "Sure."

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Her heartbeat spiked. He heard it clearly. Felt it in the air.

She's falling.

That night, as moonlight cast silver bars across his room, Tian Mo summoned his AI construct to his private terminal. A whisper of code activated the hidden interface, revealing encrypted files, global account transfers, and an access log to something new—something intriguing.

A file had decrypted itself.

Not one of his own.

He frowned and opened it.

Within was a name.

The Hidden Circle.

There were no descriptions. No sender ID. Only the emblem of a crimson eye, slitted like a serpent's, carved into the metadata.

His own system hadn't detected the intrusion. That alone told him enough.

Something ancient stirs beneath this world.

He closed the file. He wouldn't act on it—yet. But he marked the symbol in his memory.

The Hidden Circle. A whisper of a thread in the grand tapestry.

Still, for now, Anna was the more immediate piece on the board.

The next day, she wore perfume she hadn't before. Her shirt a little tighter. Her laughter a little softer when near him.

Tian Mo spoke little in class. He didn't need to. His silence said more than their words.

After school, she found him again. This time, alone.

"I meant what I said. About this weekend," she said.

"I know," he replied.

"You'll come?"

"I already said yes. You don't have to beg."

Her breath caught. Not from insult—but from the subtle dominance in his tone.

He saw the flicker in her pupils.

Desire.

Not just physical, but psychological.

She didn't understand it. Not yet. But soon, she would.

And then she'd belong to him completely.

He walked past her, close enough for her to inhale his scent, then whispered just loud enough for her to hear:

"Wear something red."

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