Chapter Fifteen: Living Well

Liang Zhi helped Old Zhao onto the bed, but the old man stubbornly refused to sleep—he insisted on hearing Liang Zhi’s opinion about his blueprint.

Resigned, Liang Zhi glanced at the plans, but once his eyes fell upon them, he could not look away.

To his astonishment, he realized that this was a crossbow of remarkable complexity and extraordinary simplicity in form, a weapon known in Da’ong as a ‘bolt-gun’.

The bolt-gun could fire relatively short bolts in rapid succession with considerable force. In terms of practicality, it might even surpass some police-issue pistols. Moreover, the blueprint itself revealed an impressive mastery of materials science that left Liang Zhi in awe.

Still, having seen robots, Liang Zhi was not easily fazed by a bolt-gun so far ahead of its time; to him, its acceptance came naturally.

Yet the very sophistication of the blueprint hinted at how eccentric Da’ong’s technological development was. Liang Zhi pointed to a section of the plan and said to Old Zhao, “I can’t quite understand all of this, but from what I see, you’ve designed a bolt-gun that uses high-explosive bolts filled with gunpowder in the arrowhead.

“But since you already have gunpowder, why use a crossbow mechanism at all? Why not harness the explosive force of gunpowder to propel the bolt? In fact, perhaps you don’t need bolts—you could use metal projectiles instead.”

Liang Zhi’s words left Old Zhao dumbfounded where he lay.

He had only wanted to boast to Liang Zhi about his invention, never expecting such an astonishing suggestion in return.

Crafting a superlative bolt-gun had long been his dream as a weaponsmith, but Da’ong’s bolt-gun technology had reached its pinnacle. No matter how he experimented with materials or added mechanical innovations, he could improve performance only marginally—never enough to satisfy him.

Liang Zhi’s words struck him like lightning.

“Yes, of course—why must it be the bowstring that launches the bolts? Isn’t there a greater force right before our eyes?”

Seeing Old Zhao’s excitement, Liang Zhi suddenly recalled something Lord Crow had once said: “What I just mentioned was nothing more than a casual remark. You should focus on your bolt-gun.”

Old Zhao gripped Liang Zhi’s shoulder. “How could I stop? I have to make this thing a reality—let those old codgers see that I am the finest craftsman.”

Liang Zhi was silent for two seconds. “I’ve heard that in Da’ong, science is seen as a curse. Advancing technology is said to attract dreadful things.”

“Ha! You actually believe that nonsense for fools?” Old Zhao staggered upright. “It’s only with the advent of new technologies that people’s lives improve and Da’ong grows stronger. Who cares about some absurd curse?”

Liang Zhi laughed. “I don’t believe it.”

...

After leaving Old Zhao’s home, Liang Zhi opened the mailbox by the door and took out a letter.

Upon reading its contents, his hands trembled slightly.

It was a death notification.

In that instant, Liang Zhi understood many things.

Old Zhao never checked the topmost letter in his mailbox because he feared it might be a death notification. The postman, knowing this, always placed new letters at the bottom, hiding the truth from Old Zhao...

Perhaps, in truth, there had long been no new letters.

All this time, the only one sending letters to Old Zhao had been the postman himself.

Liang Zhi thought for a moment, then slipped the letter back into its envelope, as if he’d never seen it.

He sat at the edge of the flowerbed in the neighborhood, letting the night breeze sober him.

“I misjudged you. I thought you buttered up the neighbors and fawned over that old codger because you were a hopeless do-gooder. Turns out, you knew he was a weaponsmith all along.”

Lord Crow rummaged through the flowerbed for insects, his noisy voice ceaseless: “I bet you realized it the day you saw him scribbling at the doorstep.”

Liang Zhi shook his head. “You overestimate me.”

Lord Crow bristled. “Then why did you splurge so much on that old man? That could’ve bought a mountain of roasted spiders!”

Liang Zhi leaned toward a white blossom and inhaled deeply. “I just want to live well.”

Lord Crow was baffled. “You waste gifts on others and chat with an old man who has nothing to do with you. How is that living well?”

Liang Zhi reached out and scratched Lord Crow under the chin, making the bird freeze in pleasure.

“To live well is to do as you please, not to worry about whether something is meaningful or not.”

Then he stood up. “But I’ve enjoyed enough easy days. It’s time to get into some trouble. I promised you, after all, and I can’t go back on my word.”

Lord Crow perked up. “Right! Trouble it is—arson, theft, and a good beating for a few unlucky souls!”

Liang Zhi opened the Bucket List, searching for misdeeds that suited him.

The Bucket List was divided into eight chapters: Murder, Robbery, Deceit, Theft, Notoriety, Destruction, Rebellion, and Atrocity.

Of these, the Chapter of Notoriety required that half the world come to hate Liang Zhi—a goal that would naturally be fulfilled once he became the greatest villain alive.

The Chapter of Atrocity, though full of wishes, only awarded items, which he did not yet need.

That left six chapters he needed to tackle.

After much deliberation, Liang Zhi determined that the Chapter of Theft required the least psychological burden and the lowest level of combat ability.

There were three wishes under Theft:

Master Pickpocket: Complete one hundred acts of theft.

Gentleman Thief: Steal a highly valuable and significant object.

Heart-Stealer: Win the hearts of ten women.

The Heart-Stealer wish could be paired with one from the Chapter of Atrocity called Use and Abandon.

As for Gentleman Thief, that would require the right time and place.

But Master Pickpocket? That, Liang Zhi could start now.

From past experience, the Bucket List only judged the act, not the motive nor what came after.

So a mere hundred acts of theft—Liang Zhi believed he could accomplish that. But before getting started, he had some preparations to make.

First, he needed the right outfit. Even if his glasses could alter his appearance, the glasses themselves were a distinctive feature; a suit for night work was essential.

Second, he needed an alias. The Chapter of Notoriety tracked his own infamy, not that of the body’s original owner. If he acted under the name “Liang Zhi”, only the original host’s notoriety would grow, which was useless to him.

He needed a label all his own.

Most importantly, though—fists.

When committing crimes, he might be hunted by the authorities of Da’ong. Without sufficient strength, he could lose his head a hundred times over.

Therefore, he had to devise a combat plan suited to his current abilities!