Stronger with Crimson Modifier-Chapter 44: I Only Had One Son

"Get out!"

He glanced down at the two people kneeling on the floor. He knew that failing to find the killer wasn’t really their fault.

So he waved his hand, gesturing for them to leave.

Seeing this, the two of them, as if granted a great pardon, immediately and obediently backed out of the room.

Once the two had gone and the room was empty, Lu Ming Bell’s previously straight back slumped, his Essence, Qi, and Spirit seemingly drained in an instant.

The afterglow of the setting sun shone through the spacious and clean floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating one side of his face.

It made his expression difficult to read.

After a long moment, a slightly hoarse voice emerged from his lips.

"I only had one son! I held him in my mouth, afraid he would melt; I carried him in my hands, afraid he would fall. I gave him anything he wanted. But you dared to kill him! No matter where you are, I will find you!"

Lu Ming Bell’s expression was grim and cold.

As this thought crossed his mind, he seemed to make some kind of decision.

He used the chair to push himself up and walked with heavy steps toward a bookshelf on one side of the room.

The bookshelf was made of dark brown solid wood, its grain clearly visible.

The books on it were neatly arranged. Some were brand new, their corners sharp, as if they had never been opened.

Others, however, were slightly worn, their pages a little curled.

Their spines and edges showed signs of wear, clear evidence of having been consulted many times.

Now, with the sunset pouring in through the window,

half of the bookshelf was bathed in light, while the other half was hidden in darkness.

His gaze swept across it, finally settling on a spot in the darkness.

He walked over and reached out to pull out a mythological book titled *Records of Wind and Earth*.

The book was very new, covered in a thin layer of dust, clearly untouched for a long time.

What was striking was that the book was extremely thick, about ten centimeters from front to back.

Lu Ming Bell opened the book and saw a rectangular cavity carved out of the center of the pages.

Inside the cavity lay a palm-sized, gray flip phone, the kind typically used by the elderly.

Lu Ming Bell picked it up and long-pressed the power button.

After a simple, seconds-long startup animation, the phone turned on.

He opened the contacts list. There was only one entry, an unsaved number.

Lu Ming Bell stared at the number, his raised finger hesitating for a moment before finally pressing the dial key.

BEEP... BEEP...

After a few seconds of waiting, the call connected.

DRIP!

Suddenly, a dripping sound came from the other end, like liquid hitting the ground.

"What do you want?"

A pleasant female voice came from the other end, though it was slightly muffled, as if she were chewing on something.

"I need your help to find the person who killed my son!"

Lu Ming Bell held the receiver a little away from his ear, as if wary of something, then proceeded to explain the general situation.

The person on the other end was silent for a moment.

"That’s not difficult. I can help you. But what are you willing to pay?"

"In West City, there’s an orphanage that was on the verge of closing down. I acquired it a while ago. The children in that kind of orphanage have no parents. Even if they died, no one would care."

Lu Ming Bell was clearly prepared for this. Though he left his sentence unfinished,

they both understood the implication.

"Hehe, not bad. You really haven’t disappointed me. My past help wasn’t wasted on you after all.

I’ll come find you later. Have one of your son’s personal belongings ready."

A crisp laugh came through the phone; clearly, she was in a good mood.

Just from her voice, one could imagine she was a great beauty.

But Lu Ming Bell didn’t entertain any such fantasies.

Of course, it wasn’t because he was too old to perform.

It was because he knew exactly what kind of being he was talking to.

Hanging up, Lu Ming Bell let out a soft breath, a look of apprehension on his face.

What other people knew about him

was limited to the fact that he’d been in a gang in his youth and made his fortune running bars, bathhouses, and casinos.

But no one knew the real reason he was able to go from a poor kid to where he was today.

While his hardworking and tenacious personality was a factor, he alone knew that wasn’t the crucial part.

The ultimate reason was that, when he was young, he had met this very person.

It happened one rainy day, more than twenty years ago.

His gang and a rival gang had agreed to fight it out in an alley over some conflict of interest.

In that kind of chaotic situation, no matter how experienced or agile you were,

there was no guarantee of coming out unscathed.

Everyone was basically risking their necks, ready to die at any moment.

He, naturally, was no exception.

In the middle of the brawl,

after cutting one man down, he made a careless mistake.

Someone stabbed him from behind with a watermelon knife, right through his body.

As the fighting mob moved further and further away, no one paid any attention to whether he lived or died.

He fell to the ground. As his blood drained away, he tried to struggle back to his feet but was powerless.

He could clearly feel his life counting down to its end.

However,

in his final moments, he vaguely saw a figure walking slowly toward him through the curtain of rain.

The person simply knelt, placed a hand on his body, and his fatal wound healed completely in a matter of moments.

This bizarre method once made him think he had met an Immortal.

But as time went on, as he had more contact with her, his status rose, and he gained access to more information,

only then did he realize that what he had met was no Immortal, but a true Demon.

...

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he snapped out of his reverie.

「At this moment.」

Outside the window, at the edge of the city, the last ray of light vanished from the horizon, and the land fell into darkness.

Night had fallen.

In the office with the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor of the skyscraper, a dark figure appeared abruptly.

The figure’s appearance was so sudden it was as if it had been there all along.

The figure wore a black dress, had a slender waist, and a silver bracelet on her right wrist.

Looking up, one could see the woman wore a pure black mask over her face, revealing only a pair of indifferent eyes and obscuring the rest of her features.

"My lady, you’ve arrived!"

Seeing her,

Lu Ming Bell, who had been sitting in his chair, scrambled to his feet, his expression respectful and tinged with nervousness and caution.

More than twenty years had passed since he first met her.

He had gone from a vigorous Young Man to his current fifty-something self.

Though he took good care of himself and looked forty-something at most,

the decline in his physical abilities meant he could no longer compare to a truly young man.

But she... though he couldn’t see her face, her exposed skin was smooth and firm, and her voice was young. Combined with who she was,

he knew that she remained as youthful as ever. It was as if time had not left a single mark on her.

"Mm, where are the items? Do you have a photo of the person?"

The woman’s voice was flat.

"I do."

Lu Ming Bell quickly took out the items he had someone prepare beforehand: a photograph and a white shirt.

"This is the man who killed my son! I heard he’s a murderer on the run. He has dozens of lives on his hands and still hasn’t been caught. That’s why I have no choice but to trouble you!"