The Awakening in the Dark Night, The Shadow of the City Wolf Emergesolf
The neon lights dragged a scarlet trail across Bo Yu's retina as he staggered two steps, gripping the convenience store's freezer for balance. The sudden searing pain that exploded in the back of his neck nearly caused him to knock over the entire row of yogurt.
The muggy night wind of July swept in, carrying the stench of car exhaust through his collar, but instead of the expected burning heat, an eerie chill spread over his skin.
"Got heatstroke or something?" Xiao Zhao slapped a cold can of cola against his neck. "I told you not to wear that stupid leather jacket to try to look cool."
Bo Yu was about to retort when his throat suddenly spasmed uncontrollably. A low-frequency vibration pierced his eardrums, like the roar of an engine from an underground garage, or the sound of a giant feline sharpening its claws deep within his chest.
Instinctively, he grabbed the shelf, his fingers leaving white marks on the metal bar.
This sensation had been lingering for three days now.
Since the rainy night when Tang Yao had rejected his seventh invitation, the world had started to feel... wrong.
The sound of raindrops hammering on the awning above them had sounded like machine gunfire. The chemical components of the mascara worn by the girl at the next table broke down in his nostrils, releasing a sharp sulfuric stench. At this very moment, he could even count the oil stains on the apron of the cold noodles vendor thirty meters away.
"Bo Yu?" Xiao Zhao waved his hand in front of his eyes. "Earth to you! You need to clock out at nine..."
The glass door suddenly slammed open.
Five figures adorned with metallic chains stumbled in, and the red-haired leader kicked over a pile of promotional goods by the cashier.
Bo Yu's gaze lingered on the toppled mountain of snacks, and he suddenly noticed the stubble on the man's chin—each hair seemed to stand at an unnatural angle, like specimens under a microscope.
"Got any change for a smoke?" The red-haired man tapped the barcode scanner, his words tinged with the sour scent of betel nut.
Bo Yu's eyes automatically locked onto the shape of something protruding from his lower back—a sharp metallic outline forming in his retina.
As the store manager nervously opened the cash box, Bo Yu's nails had already dug into his palms.
The irritability that had been building up for three days now boiled in his veins, and he could hear the grinding of his teeth.
Suddenly, Xiao Zhao grabbed his wrist. At the contact, Bo Yu realized his friend's cold sweat was seeping through the fabric and into his skin.
The streetlights cast long, wolf-like shadows on the asphalt.
As they took a shortcut through a dark alley, Bo Yu suddenly stopped, his hand pressing hard onto Xiao Zhao's shoulder.
The stench of sewage mixed with a familiar betel nut scent. He stared at the flickering metallic reflection around the corner, and the burning pain in his neck shot up to his temples.
"Run!"
The words barely left his lips when the sound of a steel pipe slicing through the air exploded.
At the moment Bo Yu shoved Xiao Zhao away, a dull pain shot through his shoulder.
The taste of iron filled his mouth as he sensed the faint salty tang of rust—the crystallized sweat evaporating from the red-haired man's palms.
"Quite the loyal friend, huh?" The sound of the steel pipe scraping along the ground sent sparks flying. The red-haired man ripped open his collar to reveal a snake tattoo, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You know why we're stopping you, right?" He yanked Bo Yu's collar, his voice dripping with contempt, "I just can't stand those eyes of yours!"
The moment Bo Yu's head slammed into the brick wall, he heard fabric tearing.
A cold sensation spread down his collarbone, and the silver chain Tang Yao had given him snapped with a loud ping.
The coin-sized pendant bounced into the shadows—a wolf's head, carved with strange symbols.
The moment the pendant hit the ground, a shadow flashed through his retina, like a beast charging through his optic nerves.
The red-haired man's fist moved in slow motion through Bo Yu's vision. He could see the scabs on his knuckles, smell the scent of burnt sausage oil wafting from a stall at the alley's mouth, and hear the electronic chime of the convenience store's automatic door thirty-two meters away.
"Still staring at me?" The red-haired man's knee dug into Bo Yu's abdomen.
As the pain rushed in, something deep within Bo Yu's marrow exploded.
His pupils dilated to vertical slits before snapping back to normal.
As he grabbed the man's wrist, Bo Yu could clearly feel the radius bone shifting under the skin, like twisting a plastic model's detachable joints.
The metallic clang of the pipe hitting the ground reverberated through the alley. Xiao Zhao's shocked gasp seemed miles away.
Bo Yu watched as the red-haired man staggered back, and he suddenly realized the world had been drenched in a faint red filter.
On the back of his raised hand, his veins had swollen in unnatural, twisted patterns.
"Monster..." The gangsters recoiled in unison.
Bo Yu looked down, following their gaze, and saw his shadow on the wall contorting and swelling, the contours of his shoulders bulging unnaturally.
When the steel pipe came crashing toward him again, he detected the faint scent of rusted metal—a reminder of the metal's residual mineral aroma.
His body reacted before his mind could process it, sidestepping with precision down to the millimeter.
As his palm wrapped around the steel pipe, it vibrated slightly—caused by the resonance of a subway train arriving 200 meters away.
A distant, wild dog's whimpering wind echoed from the depths of the alley.
The steel pipe in Bo Yu's palm groaned, its metal growing fatigued under his grip.
Five bloodstreaks spread along the pipe's rough texture, like thorns suddenly sprouting and piercing through an industrial coating.
The red-haired gangster's eyes reflected a scene of utter disbelief—the young man in the tattered leather jacket had bent the solid steel pipe with one hand, blood oozing from the spaces between his fingers, glistening with a bluish-purple hue under the moonlight.
"What the...?" The thug's curses were caught in his throat.
Bo Yu's nails were visibly hardening, and the streetlight at the alley's entrance began to flicker erratically, casting a twisted shadow of him on the wall, like a hunched beast.
The red filter over his retina deepened, and Bo Yu could feel dozens of needles pricking at his eardrum.
The gangsters' rapid heartbeats drummed in his ears like the pulsing of African drums. The adrenaline in their sweat turned into a bitter taste that exploded on his tongue.
He suddenly realized he could predict the angle at which the red-haired man would lift his leg—he could sense the contraction of the man's thigh muscles, the motion of his hip joint, even the decibel level of the friction between his canvas shoes and the pavement.
The moment the steel pipe whizzed past his ear, Bo Yu's knee collided with a third man's ribcage.
He heard the sickening snap of bone, like a bottle of fermented rice being crushed in the convenience store, the smell of fermentation mixing with the sharp scent of broken cartilage filling his nostrils.
It felt as if his body had been split in two: his rational mind screamed for him to stop, but his muscle memory followed a relentless, precise program for destruction.
"Monster! This is a monster!" The yell from a blonde thug was laced with the stench of urine.
Bo Yu's pupils contracted again. He could see the ammonia molecules rising from the man's damp pants, their path through the air perfectly clear.
Without warning, his right arm swung uncontrollably, five glints of cold light flashing through the air as his claws tore through the alley.
The rotten scent of rats in the sewer, the beer spilled from the bar three hundred meters away, the silver-mercury alloy filling of the red-haired man's molars—all the sensory information collided in his mind like a tangled mess.
Bo Yu fell to his knees, his nails scraping the asphalt, the sensation of crushed asphalt fragments amplifying the pain into razor-sharp agony.
"Bo Yu!" Xiao Zhao's voice sounded like it was coming from behind a watery curtain.
Bo Yu turned, his neck cracking like a broken gear. He saw his friend slumped beside a garbage bin seven steps away, his phone's camera reflecting cold light—this fool was actually recording.
The smell of blood became ten times stronger.
Bo Yu's canine teeth pierced his lower lip, tasting the bizarre iron-sweet flavor of his own blood.
He stumbled toward the nearest thug, his pulse pounding in his ears. The sound of the man's carotid artery pulsing was as tempting as the beat of a drum.
An ancient, violent urge surged in his spine, urging him to rip through that fragile skin.
"Bo Yu!"
A cold female voice pierced his skull like a silver needle.
The claws about to strike the man's throat froze in midair as Bo Yu's nostrils suddenly filled with the scent of cedar and cold frost.
This scent dulled the bloodlust, calming the frantic pulse in his veins.
He twisted his stiff neck, and saw Tang Yao standing at the alley's entrance, holding a sketchbook, her navy-blue college skirt fluttering in the breeze.
Her gaze swept across the claw marks on the wall, then paused on Bo Yu's transformed fingers for a split second.
She bent down to pick up the broken wolf pendant, and the moonlight traced a bronze-like glow in the symbols.
"So that's how it is," she whispered, as soft as a sigh, but her words sent a chill down Bo Yu's spine.
Clang.
The pendant was thrown at his feet.
As Tang Yao turned to leave, her hair lifted, forming a subtle arc. Bo Yu's iris automatically recorded the image—the thirteen falling strands of hair, each following a path that resembled the Fibonacci spiral.
He tried to speak, but his throat only let out a low growl—a sound caught between a wounded beast and a rusted gear.
"You should go to the vet and get a rabies shot," Tang Yao's voice mixed with the night wind.
She walked over the bloodstain, the sound of her loafers sticking to the blood splattering in Bo Yu's ears, breaking down into seventeen different frequencies.
When Xiao Zhao helped him up, Bo Yu's veins still writhed under his skin.
The bulging muscle fibers were shrinking, replaced by a burning pain deep in his bones.
He fumbled to put on the broken necklace, and the wolf head pendant suddenly grew hot. Resin-like fluid began to seep from the carvings.
The sound of police sirens echoed from the direction of the convenience store, but Bo Yu's retina was left with an even stranger afterimage—Tang Yao's disappearing figure at the street corner, where faint golden particles floated in the air like static, marking her path.