So, Jack Stafford, seventy-two years old this year. "Jack, Bill and the others are back. I heard they brought back someone with abilities, seemingly not even ten years old, with the dual talents of fire and ice." Waking him up was Jack’s third wife, young, vibrant, and mother to Jack’s fourth child. "Our little buddy Bill sure hit the jackpot today." Hearing this, Jack stopped showing off—A dual-talented transcendent being would be worshipped at any camp, and at the age of ten... My God, if he agreed to stay in Stafford, never mind taking on the Stafford name, the Camp Master’s daughter and granddaughter would likely be his for the picking for decades to come. Stepping out of his home, he navigated the narrow, chaotic streets, patting the brazenly approaching Eileen affectionately. Normally, he’d consider indulging her business a favor, considering that if she bore his child, it would be beneficial for everyone—spreading Jack’s lineage and providing Eileen a way out of her current job through a child with abilities. But today was not an option. "I have business at the gate, darling. If I’m late, I’ll blame it all on you. Reflect on how you’ll pathetically die for that, you damn bitch." With those words, he shoved the fool woman aside, leaping onto the hand-operated railcar parked on the tracks. "Jack, are you nervous?" Operating the railcar were Rick and Korgan, two strong young men who were pulling the car towards the gate—from the residential area to the gate was quite a distance. This was for security, ensuring an escape route against monster breaches rather than being directly attacked in the living area. "Nervous? Hell no. It’s just a boy under ten, not a girl under ten." Jack stated this fact; if it were a ten-year-old girl with dual talents, he would believe every survivor camp on the continent would go mad over her. Her offspring would be the mightiest transcendent beings across the East Coast, driving powerful individuals into a frenzy, except for those impotent fools. Luckily, it was a boy. Even if he stayed in Stafford, other camps could send women, avoiding bloodshed over a few seeds. "Yeah, lucky it’s a boy." Rick laughed, "Hey, I heard old Bill and the others took down a deer too. They lugged the deer’s legs back and ran into that kid on the way." "Did my damned buddy Bill just lick the Goddess of Fate’s filthy foot yesterday?" Jack spat, "I never have that kind of luck, damn it." "Come on, old Jack, have you ever stepped out?" Older Korgan mocked. "No, I’m just a seventy-two-year-old fart." Jack noted the teenage boy pushing the cart, loaded with four deer legs: "Whoa, check out those deer legs! I bet they were cut off less than an hour ago!" Jack’s ability was to see the truth beneath one’s skin, and similarly, he could discern the origin creature of recently severed meat—those were genuine deer legs from a robust stag. Damn, old Bill must have antlers too. Those are precious; the chefs from nearby camps like Thainan’s would use them to brew. Jack had tried it, feeling it was fit for an immortal since just a little made him feel fifteen again. Maybe I should spend a little to buy them? Hmm, if the price is right, definitely worth buying. "Hey, Jack, we’ve arrived at the gate." Korgan’s reminder snapped Jack back, and once the handcar halted, he leaped onto the platform, heading to Bill’s group. He felt confused, seeing no child: "Bill, Rotten Tooth, where is the kid you talked about?" Jack doubted they would lie, as such fools would be exiled from the camp, with no other camp on the East Coast willing to take them, dooming them on the surface. Then Jack saw Rotten Tooth, Bill, and everyone’s gaze turning toward the door. Only then did Jack notice the world had turned pitch black, followed by stardust lighting up, with a boy standing in front of him... The next second, Jack felt the world collapsing. The boy transformed into a reaper, wielding a long scythe, with soul fires of red and white burning in his dark eye sockets, and behind him, the world was ablaze, everything in destruction. He strode toward Jack, causing old Jack to fall on his butt, scrambling back, only to find no way back, yet the boy stood before him. What a lovely child this was, with wings on his back, a smile on his face, and the Heavenly Kingdom in the background. The boy’s voice rang out, jolting Jack awake to find himself on a celestial map, with stardust beneath his feet and the boy smiling ahead. To his left was the silent reaper with a scythe in hand; to his right was a smiling, beckoning boy. Behind the angel and the reaper, the world unfolded in distinctly different forms. Behind the reaper, the world found peace in destruction; behind the angel, the world found tranquility in rebirth. "Jack, what happened?" the boy asked with a smile. In a blink, the angel and reaper were gone, as were Heaven and Hell, even the starry river beneath vanished. This seventy-two-year-old man stood on the tempered ceramic tiles of the Stafford survivor camp. The boy before him smiled, removing his hat: "Malin, Malin Gaiate, is there a question?" "Uh, no, no questions." Jack immediately answered—whether the child had issues or not, Jack understood he himself surely didn’t, and if he didn’t, then the boy wouldn’t either. Considering everything Jack had witnessed, if the child really was some demonic entity, Jack would already be dead. But he wasn’t, so the child was fine. He gestured for Rotten Tooth and his companions to relax, then turned towards the hand-operated railcar: "I’ve seen enough. Everything’s fine with the kid and Bill’s group." "Hey, old Jack, you haven’t mentioned the strength of this kid’s abilities." Rotten Tooth approached old Jack, suspecting the camp’s old Jack might’ve been influenced by something. Old Jack blinked, glanced at the child claiming to be Malin, seeing beneath his feet, the world was split in two: one half a fiery purgatory, the other an icy death domain. "He’s too strong, I can’t see through him." Old Jack said, glaring at Rotten Tooth: "Also, I’m not under his control like you think. If you’re not scared, block his way. But I’m sure, in one second you’ll be roasted, and the level of doneness depends on the kid’s mood." Finished, old Jack shoved this guy aside, jumped onto the hand-operated railcar, and turned to look at the child. At this moment, the child was just a smiling child without a hint of transformation. Eventually, old Jack extended his hand: "Kid, want to hop on?" "Sure, it’s easier than walking." The child smiled and nodded. Melodic voice, charming smile—an angel and reaper combined, the child in Jack’s eyes smiled, a bit shy.