Superman Termination Manual

June 21, in the dead of night, the 79th floor of the Superhero Association building.

Ke Youqing removed his mask, placed his hands on the sink countertop, and hung his head low, breathing deeply.

Qing Ya's mask fell to the floor, emitting a metallic humming sound.

From the shadows of his forehead, he raised his eyes, and the mirror reflected a tired, gloomy face, his bloodshot eyes staring at the mirror's surface.

A crow stood on his shoulder, cawing: "He got away, they all got away, you caught no one, you're really useless..."

Hours earlier, an unidentified hacker had breached the official records database, searching for him and his family's records. Ke Youqing, using a pre-set counter-surveillance alarm, located the hacker's address at the first instance and dispatched a top-tier police squad and two B-level superheroes from the local Association branch to search.

But the hacker reacted quickly, immediately destroying all clues and evidence, and furthermore, managed to escape unscathed from the encirclement of the police force.

Thus, Ke Youqing was especially irritable tonight.

Who could it be... hacking into the record database, just to search for information on him and his family?

He couldn't stop pondering this question, the more he thought about it, the more agitated he became.

The follow-up investigation by the Association branch had not yielded any results so far.

He could only wait...

If he were decades younger, he believed he was accustomed to waiting, and good at it, too—it was key in apprehending those criminals, patiently waiting for the right moment to act, never doing anything uncertain.

But now he was too tired to qualify to wait any longer.

So he could only act like a mad dog, recklessly aggressive, making the most of the last breath that still lingered in his throat.

"Go back, go back... you useless thing."

The crow on his shoulder taunted him, its blood-red eyes filled with disdain.

Ke Youqing remained silent, and after a long while, lifted his gloved right hand and pressed hard against the crow's head, crushing it.

There was no blood spurting out, just crow feathers fluttering down to the floor, melting away like a black rain.

He took a deep, raspy breath, irritably turning his head away to see two crows dancing a tango on the toilet lid; three crows on the windowsill playing bungee jumping games, plunging down from the ledge, fluttering their wings just before hitting the ground, flying back up to the windowsill; ten crows lined up in a corner of the restroom singing "London Bridge is Falling Down," the leading crow wielding a baton, conducting left and right, their hoarse singing echoing in the bathroom; the narrow bathtub piled with countless crow corpses, thick blood about to spill out.

Ke Youqing had gone mad.

But he didn't think he was mad yet.

Rather, he couldn't afford to go mad—if he did, who would take over his post, who would protect this city?

He didn't know how much longer he could maintain his sanity. If he ever fancied that he could change the world, then he had utterly lost.

He simply hoped that his family could remain safe, that every child could grow up successfully, find an ordinary life, and live peacefully.

As for his ideals, he planned to find a successor he could entrust with them, to train him within this year to the best of his abilities, to take his place.

Then, with a clear conscience, step away from this tangled stage.

Ke Youqing remained silent for a long time, slowly removing his battle suit, step by step, he walked towards the bathtub.

The dead flock of crows suddenly came to life, screeching hoarsely as they flew to the sky. Ignoring everything, he submerged himself in the warm pool of blood.

He knew that it wasn't blood, but bathwater, yet his nose seemed to detect the thick scent of blood.

Ke Youqing picked up the pack of cigarettes on the edge of the bathtub, drew one out, placed it in his mouth, and looked up at the ceiling.

After decades of non-stop fighting, he still saw no sign of the world improving. In the end, he was covered in scars, protecting his family like a sick dog, praying they wouldn't be drawn into the other side of the world, into the unchanging darkness, yet... today's events had completely broken his last line of inner defense, invading the last safe haven in his heart like a violent storm.

—Someone had set their sights on his family.

"Is it a player?" Ke Youqing wondered as he soaked in the blood pool, "Or someone from the Management Bureau? Since the Management Bureau used a brain imaging helmet to scrutinize my child in the cinema, it's evident that someone among them knows who I am, so they searched the records of people around me..."

Half an hour ago, he contacted the external affairs department of the Anomaly Control Bureau, requesting a meeting with the S-class operative, "Black Judge," but the Black Judge said he was enjoying his vacation time, had no time to meet him unless he helped expose Dice Monster's true identity. Then he might be interested in stopping by the Association to hear what he had to say.

Although Ke Youqing did not want to admit it, the Anomaly Control Bureau indeed held a higher official status than the Superhero Association, so in communication with the Management Bureau, he had to be in a passive position.

"Dice Monster, why is Black Judge so fixated on this fugitive..."

Ke Youqing pondered, recalling the words Dice Monster had left him with: "I'm the hero, you're just a thug... no one will remember a tyrant, no one will."