Chapter Fifteen: The Beast's Attack

News of the beast attack quickly swept through all social circles in Wu City. Due to unscrupulous media outlets exaggerating the events to gain attention, the entire city was gripped by fear; the number of people on the streets was less than half of usual, and even traffic had decreased noticeably.

“Qin Tian, where are you?” Jiang Yingying had seen the reports about the beast attack on the news. Qin Tian had left to deal with some matters regarding the car and hadn’t returned, so her concern grew, prompting her to call him.

“I’m at the police station, about to head back,” Qin Tian replied.

“Be careful. The news says there’s some wild beast out there. Don’t walk alone on the streets. If you go out, call a cab right away,” Jiang Yingying advised.

“Relax, have you forgotten what I do? Animal training is my specialty! Never mind wolves, tigers, or leopards—even if Godzilla showed up, I could tame it until it was docile!” Qin Tian boasted.

“Heh, I never thought you’d worry about me,” he added, a bit surprised that the young lady could show concern.

“Keep talking. Just get back here quickly,” Jiang Yingying retorted, rolling her eyes before hanging up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” During the call, Shen Xiaoqing had her ear pressed against the other side of the phone. As soon as Jiang Yingying hung up, she cast a teasing look at her.

“I never thought you’d care about me,” Shen Xiaoqing mimicked Qin Tian’s words from the call, waggling her eyebrows.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re the one who insisted I call him,” Jiang Yingying shot her a glare.

“He went to the traffic police station for us. Of course we should care,” Shen Xiaoqing said, flopping onto the sofa, grabbing a bag of chips, and crunching them loudly.

“Let you eat, will I?” Jiang Yingying suddenly grabbed a pillow and pressed it onto Shen Xiaoqing.

“Oh, so you want to mess around?” Shen Xiaoqing tossed the chips aside, snatched another pillow, and the two began to tussle playfully.

Two girls in light clothing frolicked on the sofa in the living room, occasional glimpses of spring revealed, yet no one was there to enjoy the view.

Not long after Qin Tian finished his call with Jiang Yingying, another call came in—this time from Jiang Tianxiang, reminding him again to stay safe, as there were unknown beasts roaming outside.

Qin Tian assured him he'd be careful and thanked Jiang Tianxiang for his concern.

“The feeling of being cared for is really quite nice. How come Old Kong never showed such concern for me?” Qin Tian sighed.

Although Old Kong never voiced any worry, Qin Tian knew that he cared more than anyone. He found himself missing Old Kong, wondering where he might be now.

Qin Tian hailed a cab, heading straight for the landfill in the southern suburbs, where the Celestial Horse Circus had once been stationed.

He had no intention of returning to the Jiang family home; he wanted to investigate the beast attack, to see if it was connected to Da Lang and the others.

The attack had occurred in the northern suburbs, but for a wolf, traveling between the north and south suburbs in a day would be no great feat.

“Young man, this is the far outskirts. The news reported beast attacks recently—are you sure you want to get out here?” The driver kindly reminded Qin Tian.

“Yes, here’s fine,” Qin Tian nodded.

Seeing Qin Tian’s insistence, the driver didn’t object further. However, just as Qin Tian was about to leave, the driver called him back.

Waving him over, the driver led Qin Tian to the trunk and opened it.

Qin Tian’s gaze was instantly drawn to the contents: hammers, iron rods, baseball bats...

“Sir, you’re not some underworld figure, are you?” Qin Tian looked at the driver with a puzzled expression.

“Hey, I was young once, you know... Pick something for self-defense,” the driver said, winking at him.

Qin Tian didn’t stand on ceremony. He weighed the hammer, swung the iron rod, but ultimately chose a foldable stool.

A stool was a wonderful thing: no one would suspect it as a weapon, it could be used for sitting if tired, and when folded, it made a handy tool for a fight.

“Good choice. You’ve got potential,” the driver said, giving Qin Tian a thumbs-up.

“Thanks, sir.” Qin Tian slipped a hundred yuan into the driver’s pocket.

“Hey, you kid...” The driver tried to return the money.

“Keep it, just a token of appreciation. There aren’t many drivers so willing to look out for others,” Qin Tian said, using the phrase as a compliment.

“Alright, you know how to handle things. Here’s my business card—if you ever need a ride urgently, just call me.”

The driver handed Qin Tian a card and made a gesture as if dialing a phone.

“Sure thing.” Qin Tian nodded with a smile.

Watching the driver leave, Qin Tian glanced at the card in his hand: Wang Shoucheng, a decent name.

He put away the card and headed toward the former site of the Celestial Horse Circus, which was as empty as before.

Qin Tian searched the surroundings but found no unusual traces—no clues appeared.

Just as he was about to leave, he noticed something hidden beneath an old newspaper.

He walked over, lifted the paper, and was first startled, then disgusted: it was a pile of excrement.

Qin Tian recognized it immediately—only Da Lang’s droppings looked like this.

Suppressing his nausea, he squatted and examined it closely. It seemed freshly deposited, probably no more than six hours old.

He stood up, conflicted.

The Book clearly stated that one could determine a creature’s physical condition from its droppings, but...

The process was hard to talk about.

Qin Tian found a stick, pinched his nose, squatted down, and poked the excrement, lifting it up to smell.

Fortunately, it wasn’t as foul as he’d imagined, though it still made him queasy.

Squinting, he noted something odd—the droppings seemed abnormal. Da Lang’s health was likely not good.

To confirm further, he would need to... taste it.

He brought the stick to his mouth, trembling as he extended his tongue, nearly touching it several times before recoiling as fast as lightning.

“Forget it, I can’t do it!” Qin Tian sighed, tossing the stick aside. How did the author of The Book manage such a task? Truly remarkable.

At least he could confirm that Da Lang was still alive and had returned to the landfill, though when he might come again was uncertain.

Ding.

Just then, Qin Tian received a push notification on his phone. He opened it: another beast attack had occurred not long ago.

Three more people had been killed, and one severely injured was in critical care at the hospital.

Thinking it over, Qin Tian ran to the roadside, hailed a cab, and headed straight to the hospital.

He didn’t call Wang Shoucheng—after just parting ways, calling him back for something not urgent felt inappropriate.