A Short Story of Blinding

Yancheng Yanhuang Juexing Branch.

The interrogation room was damp and chilly. Hu Rong struggled to open his eyes, only to be met with pure darkness.

He wasn’t blind.

A thick black cloth was tightly wrapped around his eyes, its coarse fibers scraping against his skin.

Those idiots. Did they think covering his eyes would solve everything?

They knew his abilities were activated through sight, but they seemed to have overlooked something far more important.

A cold smirk curled in Hu Rong’s heart, yet his body remained perfectly still, his breathing deliberately slowed to feign unconsciousness. He wanted to hear exactly what these people were planning.

"Zzzzt—"

A piercing burst of static erupted from the speaker above, sending shivers down his spine. Then, an emotionless synthetic female voice echoed through the empty room.

"Criminal, Hu Rong."

"After investigation, you are suspected of using psychic abilities to hypnotize and defraud civilians of assets totaling at least 800,000 yuan. Additionally, you employed these abilities to manipulate multiple women into engaging in non-consensual sexual relations on a rotating basis."

"Do you admit to these charges?"

Each word struck Hu Rong’s heart like a hammer.

But he stayed silent, still playing dead.

"Detected fluctuations in criminal Hu Rong’s heart rate. Confirmed conscious state. Failure to confess will result in aggravated charges."

He could no longer keep up the act. With a violent jerk, he shot up from the cold metal chair, the clang of shackles around his wrists and ankles revealing he was already firmly restrained.

"I didn’t do it! This is slander!"

Hu Rong’s face twisted in fury, veins bulging in his neck as he roared into the empty darkness.

"Where’s the evidence? No evidence, no right to convict me!"

He thrashed wildly, the chains rattling loudly in the dead silence of the room.

The voice from the speaker remained indifferent, its mechanical chill unbroken.

"Evidence?"

The voice paused, as if retrieving an insignificant footnote.

"That’s a procedure reserved for ordinary criminals—time-consuming, labor-intensive, meant to uphold the fairness of the law. But for scum like you, wielding supernatural powers, Yanhuang Juexing holds the highest authority for immediate judgment."

"You don’t need to understand. You only need to accept."

Hu Rong froze. A wave of icy dread shot up from his feet to the crown of his head.

The voice continued its verdict, as detached as reading a product manual.

"Under the Special Disciplinary Regulations for Ability-Based Crimes, all offenders face maximum penalties. For fraud exceeding 500,000 yuan, the minimum sentence is life imprisonment."

"For coercing and controlling multiple women into sexual relations—methods vile, circumstances severe—the sentence is death."

"Combined penalties for multiple offenses."

The speaker fell silent for a moment, crushing Hu Rong’s last shred of hope and delivering the final blow.

"Sentence... immediate execution via Method Three. No appeals permitted."

"Boom!"

Hu Rong’s mind went blank.

Immediate execution? No appeals?

What kind of farce was this? No trial, no process—just straight to his death?

"No! You can’t do this! This is murder! I demand to see my lawyer! I protest—"

His screams cut off abruptly.

"Click."

The heavy steel door of the interrogation room unlocked with a crisp snap.

Footsteps approached.

The next second, the blindfold was ripped from Hu Rong’s eyes.

Harsh light forced him to squint, his vision slowly adjusting before he could fully open them.

For a split second, he considered using his ability—but he knew that even if he tried, escape was impossible.

So Hu Rong lowered his head in submission.

Liu Zheng, his face half-bruised, strode forward and slapped Hu Rong hard across the face.

The force sent Hu Rong crashing to the floor.

"You’re abusing your power! I’ll report you!" Hu Rong shrieked.

"Go ahead. Scream all you want. No one cares. The moment scum like you—ability-wielding criminals—step in here, you forfeit all human rights."

With that, Liu Zheng kicked him twice for good measure.

After hauling Hu Rong’s chair upright, Liu Zheng sat across from him and flipped open a file.

"Hmm. From eastern Guangdong, came to Yancheng for work. Worked as a ‘Tony’ hairstylist, then as a ‘blind masseur.’ Tch. It’s people like you who ruin reputations."

Hu Rong refused to meet Liu Zheng’s gaze, muttering instead, "I’m innocent. I’m innocent."

A strange energy began radiating from his body.

But at that moment, a jolt of electricity shot from the collar around his neck straight into his brain.

"Oh, forgot to mention. The moment your ability usage exceeds a certain threshold, your brain gets a nice little ‘massage.’"

Ah, lovely. Borrowed from the infamous "Thunderbolt Therapy" concept, huh?

As his mind numbed from the shock, Hu Rong knew it was over.

Slumped in the chair, he rasped, "What do you want from me? My abilities are strong—I can atone for my crimes."

"We don’t do ‘atonement’ here. You’re not remorseful—you’re just scared of dying."

Liu Zheng lounged in his seat, studying Hu Rong with a smirk. "Let me explain Method Three execution. Method One is a bullet to the head—quick and painless. Method Two is compression, reserved for sadistic killers. You’re stuffed into a press, slowly crushed over half an hour until your bones and flesh are one pulpy mess. Brutal way to go."

Just hearing this made Hu Rong writhe. "No! No! I don’t want to die!"

"I haven’t even gotten to Method Three, and you’re already freaking out?"

Liu Zheng’s grin turned sinister.

"Method Three is custom-made for psychic scum like you. We strap you into a machine, and you’re plunged into a nightmare—forced to relive your worst fear on loop until your mind shatters."

Hu Rong sat motionless, hot tears streaking down his face.

"No, no, no! I just got my powers! I was gonna be rich! I haven’t even lived yet!"

He thrashed wildly—

Only to be struck down by another surge of lightning.

"Alright, let’s hear your confession. Spill everything, and we might... lessen your sentence."

At the word "lessen," the dead light in Hu Rong’s eyes flickered back to life.

"I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything! Does that mean I won’t die?"

Liu Zheng scoffed. "Won’t die? Dream on. At best, we’ll make it less painful. Trust me, Method Three is hell. Once it starts, you won’t be able to stop it, no matter how much you beg."

Hu Rong clenched his fists. "Fine. I’ll talk. I really was just a migrant worker in Yancheng at first. Worked as a blind masseur until one female client realized I wasn’t actually blind. She called her husband to gouge my eyes out, but then..."

Well, damn. What a blindingly stupid backstory.