Chapter One

The black rain had stopped, and sunlight once again graced the wasteland.

I tore off the last piece of rotting flesh from the third-tier blood aberrant with one hand, letting its toxic blood flow down my fractured ribs. This monster stood three meters tall and had nearly disemboweled me with its bone blade just moments ago.

Pain coursed through every fiber of my being. In that life-or-death struggle, when the creature's core blood splashed into my eyes, something in my mind finally broke through completely.

King-level psychic power!

I had successfully broken through! The leap from S-level to King-level—this was what countless ability users dreamed of achieving! I clenched my fist, feeling the psychic energy surging like a tide within my body.

King-level mental perception meant I could hear the thoughts of all King-level ability users in the base, including my fiancée—Lena.

For the past two years, I had desperately wanted to know what she was really thinking.

"Shit, Victor! You're still fucking alive!"

A rough voice came from behind the ruins. Rex walked over, stepping on the scattered remains of aberrants, his tactical boots kicking aside several severed limbs. The left side of his face was still bloodied—clearly the recent battle hadn't been easy for him either.

"Do I look dead?" I spat out a mouthful of blood and stood up from the monster's corpse.

"Pretty close." Rex examined the wound on my chest. "How many ribs broken?"

"Three." I touched my chest; the bone fragments were painfully sharp.

"What about that aberrant? Third-tier flesh type should be worth quite a few contribution points." Rex kicked at the scattered limbs on the ground. "You tore it apart with your bare hands again? Freak."

I ignored his teasing and crouched down to collect useful parts. The heart core of a third-tier aberrant could be exchanged for many things, especially high-grade anti-radiation serum. Lena needed this. Though she never asked for it, I knew her health was deteriorating.

"Speaking of which, how are things between you and Lena lately?" Rex asked casually while keeping watch of the surroundings. "I mean, you've been engaged for three years. When are you having the official ceremony?"

My hand paused.

Three years engaged, but for the past two years she wouldn't even let me touch her. Every time I tried to get close, she would find excuses to push me away. No hugging, no kissing, even holding hands seemed like torture to her.

"Soon," I replied offhandedly.

"Soon my ass." Rex scoffed. "Even I can see you two have problems. That woman looks at you like you're the plague."

I glared up at him sharply.

Rex sensed danger and immediately raised his hands in surrender: "Okay, okay, I'll shut up. But seriously, Victor, if she really doesn't love you anymore, why keep torturing yourself? There are plenty of women in the wasteland who'd want to be with you. With your abilities, what kind of woman can't you have?"

Doesn't love me anymore?

This thought stabbed into my heart like a knife. We used to love each other so much. Three years ago, she had willingly put on the ring I gave her, her eyes full of starlight. Back then, she would initiate embraces, cry when I got hurt, and whisper "I love you" against my chest in the deep of night.

But these past two years... she had changed. Become cold, distant, like a stranger. I kept telling myself she was just tired, that wasteland life was too harsh, that she needed time to adjust. But if even Rex could see it...

Previously, I could only passively sense her emotional fluctuations—rejection, indifference. But those were too vague; I always thought I was misunderstanding. Now it was different. King-level mental perception would let me actively delve deeper, hear her complete thoughts. Although she would detect me doing this, I couldn't care about that anymore.

"She loves me," my voice was somewhat hoarse. "It's just... her health hasn't been good lately."

"Health problems?" Rex frowned. "Sick? Then she should let you take care of her even more. What kind of patient pushes away their lover?"

I couldn't answer this question because I didn't understand either. But Lena's body was indeed having problems—her complexion growing paler, her appetite becoming poor. But every time I suggested taking her to the medical ward for examination, she would get angry.

"Forget it, let's not talk about this." I stood up, stuffing the heart core into my backpack. "Let's go. Dawn's breaking."

We walked back over the scattered remains of aberrants. Dawn light filtered through the radiation clouds, casting a dim yellow glow on the ruined buildings. This battlefield had been cleared; for at least the next week, there would be no aberrant threats to the outpost from this direction.

"By the way," Rex suddenly said, "I heard Lena's been going to the medical ward a lot lately."

My steps faltered: "The medical ward?"

"Yeah, every week, and she stays for a long time each visit. Gets along pretty well with Dr. Elias." Rex's tone was casual, but these words hit me like thunder. "Probably really does have health problems."

Elias, the chief medical officer, a gentle man. They said his ability talent was extremely high. I'd seen him a few times and always felt his gaze toward me was somehow strange, though I couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"What do they... talk about?" I tried to keep my voice calm.

"Don't know, I wasn't eavesdropping." Rex shrugged. "But they seem to get along well. Sometimes when Lena comes out of the medical ward, she looks better."

She looks better.

This sentence stuck in my heart like a thorn. Why would her complexion improve around Elias? Why was she willing to seek out another man but unwilling to let me get close?

We walked the remaining distance in silence. When we parted, Rex patted my shoulder: "Brother, some things need to be faced when the time comes. Don't push yourself too hard."

I nodded, but had already made up my mind. King-level mental perception—this was a gift from heaven. Today I would find out what Lena was really thinking. Even if she detected my mind-reading, even if it made her even angrier, I had to know the truth.

Twenty minutes later, I stood before that familiar reinforced concrete safe house. This was our home—two stories, outer walls wrapped in anti-radiation alloy plates. The first floor had a living room and kitchen, the second floor had a bedroom and storage room. The windows were fitted with heavy protective glass that could withstand most radiation and aberrant attacks.

Dim light emanated from inside; Lena should be in there. I took a deep breath and carefully extended my mental perception tendrils inside, first passively receiving, trying to capture her emotional fluctuations.

Disgust, fear, and a strange... hunger?

These vague emotions made my heart sink, but it wasn't clear enough. I gritted my teeth and decided to actively delve into her thoughts. Even if I was discovered, it didn't matter—I had to know the truth.

I activated active mind-reading.

Then my world collapsed.

"Get lost."

That word thundered in my mind like lightning—cold, sharp, filled with pure disgust. This wasn't a vague emotional fluctuation, but her complete, clear inner monologue.

"Get away!" "Don't come near me!" "I'll kill you!"

Lena's thoughts swept over me like a hurricane, each word carrying bone-chilling coldness. Not a trace of warmth, not a hint of attachment, only rejection frozen to the extreme. I could even feel that almost physiological disgust deep in her heart, like facing the most revolting poisonous insect.

My whole body trembled.

For two years I had been telling myself she was just tired, just needed time, just wasn't feeling well. I hunted aberrants for her, exchanged for the best medicine and food, endured her cold violence, thinking that someday she would return to how she was before.

All lies.

All fucking self-deceptive lies.

I pushed open the protective door with an expressionless face.

Lena sat on the sofa in black combat gear. The moment she heard the door open, she flashed to the shadowy corner like avoiding a snake, curling herself into a ball. Her shoulders trembled slightly, but her voice remained cold as iron:

"Get out."

She didn't even glance at me. Three years of feelings, three years of living together day and night—in her eyes, I was worth less than a stranger.

"Lena..." My voice was somewhat choked.

"Get out!" Her voice suddenly became sharp, carrying some kind of hoarseness suppressed to the extreme, as if enduring tremendous pain. "Get out immediately!"

I knew she had detected my mind-reading just now. Ability users could all sense psychic intrusion, but I didn't regret it. At least now I knew the truth—she truly despised me, from the depths of her heart.

I silently stepped back. The wound on my chest was still bleeding, the fractured ribs burned with pain, but none of this compared to the agony of my heart being torn apart.

"I understand."

I said quietly, my voice echoing in the living room. As I turned toward the door, I felt my very soul bleeding. Three years of feelings—were they all a lie?