Bittersweet Rooftop Gathering and the Return to Magic City to Break the Veil

Southern suburbs of Shanghai—far from the city center, even the buildings have a rural vibe. In a small residential area, the group has temporarily settled into an empty house.

On the rooftop, Jack Young and Jasper Xiao sit side by side on the edge, legs dangling, looking relaxed—but their faces are anything but.

"The Mist Zone's gotten even bigger," Jasper Xiao sighs. "A few days ago, it was still at the A20 Outer Ring Expressway. Now, even the Lakeview Expressway's interchange is behind us. If we go much further, we'll hit Southfield District. Compared to when the fog first appeared, the Mist Zone has pushed forward a full ten kilometers."

"Yeah. It's not just bigger, it's stronger." Gold light flashes in Jack Young's eyes—his special vision lets him see things normal people can't. He looks to the right at the Mist Zone ahead, then scans sideways, finally glancing up. He sighs, "We're basically micro-organisms trapped under a giant bowl. The dimensional barrier around us—it's not just regular folks, even Chosen Ones can barely get in or out."

"Still, at least Miss Meng pointed us the right way—there's way less Black Veil here. I can see almost two kilometers out. But look—" Jasper Xiao gestures left, toward downtown, his expression complicated. "That rolling mass of black stuff? That's Shanghai's city center. No idea how many people are trapped in there, but it's the densest population in the country—at least fourteen or fifteen million."

He falls silent for a moment, then shakes his head, enunciating each word: "Fourteen. Fifteen. Million. People! Over ten million! Damn it!" He slams his fist down—crack! The concrete ledge splits instantly.

Jasper Xiao isn't a body-strength specialist—his own skin splits from the punch. Blood drips down, seeping into the cracks in the concrete.

"I used to think I'd seen the worst disasters. I thought those thousand-mile wars in Middle-earth were the most brutal. But this—this isn't war. It's slaughter!" Jasper's been tormented by what they've seen; he punches again, blood spraying, biting his lip. "All of this—every atrocity—is a massacre of helpless, ordinary people!"

Jack Young watches Jasper Xiao's pain, not stopping his self-harm—sometimes emotions need an outlet. He simply says, "Jasper, do you think it's your fault you couldn't save everyone?"

"I..." Jasper wants to say "I'm not that naive," but the words stick in his throat. He started out detached, but after seeing so much disaster, pain, madness, and numb, broken survivors—some even took their own lives along the way—he can't just shrug it off anymore.

He remembers the young woman who died by suicide, her eyes wide open with despair. After everything he's witnessed, Jasper realizes he can't just let go.

He hates the ones who caused all this—and he hates himself too.

"I just regret not working harder before, not being stronger." Jasper raises his bleeding fist—holy light flashes, and the wound heals. But he doesn't look happy, only more lost. "Last time in the Pacific World, I couldn't save you guys. Now in Shanghai, I can't save the citizens either. I..."

Faced with his friend's despair, Jack Young offers a unique kind of comfort: "Jasper, you've actually made a fundamental mistake."

"Huh?" Jasper blinks, then sighs. "Yeah, I've made a lot of mistakes. I should've paid more attention to organizing the survivors—they're not soldiers, they're..."

"No, that's just tactics—I'm talking about principles." Jack Young says evenly. "Mencius said, 'If you're poor, keep to yourself; if you're rich, help the world.' Most people agree, but think about it—it's just an empty slogan."

Jasper Xiao looks surprised. "Empty slogan?"

"Yeah. Even the poorest person can help someone—beggars can split a roll, at least in ancient times. And the richest person can't really help 'the whole world'—not even the world's wealthiest could manage that." Jack Young grins at Jasper. "Do you really think you're 'rich'?"

"Me...?" Jasper freezes. "Guess not..."

"Right. Humanity's always in this in-between state—neither truly poor nor truly rich. That's what really confuses us in a crisis, and that's what actually matters." Without realizing it, Jack Young's lecture mode is in full swing again.

Jasper Xiao seems to finally understand what Jack Young means: "You’re saying my desire to save everyone is too arrogant?"

Jack Young snorts. "Arrogant? That's not even the half of it—it's downright childish! We're all human, you know? When we see others suffering, we empathize. When we see others unhappy, we feel a twinge ourselves. When we see people persist, we’re moved. When we see people fight, we’re inspired. That’s normal, and it’s good—but doing what’s right is a personal choice, not an obligation, not a duty, and definitely not a shackle. We help others because we genuinely want to. But if it doesn’t work out, if we fail, sure, we regret it, but we shouldn’t blame ourselves forever."

Jasper falls silent. He furrows his brows, deep in thought, but the pain on his face has faded a little.

Jack Young points down below. "Look, the survivors are starting to settle in."

Those three thousand-plus survivors are finally finding places to rest in the apartments. No matter how bleak the road ahead, as long as they’re alive, there’s hope. Besides, after trekking for more than five hours, everyone’s exhausted—they need somewhere to recuperate. Watching these people, Jasper Xiao’s mood lifts a little more. He turns to Jack Young and asks, "So, Professor Jack, what do you think we, the not-rich and not-poor, should do?"

Jack Young replies, "Follow your heart and do your best. To put it simply: do whatever you feel like doing. Take me, for example—even if I wanted to save the world, I’d start by making sure my own people are taken care of first. Once that’s done, then I’ll think about anything else. And if I do something, I’ll make sure it’s something I won’t regret later. Best case? Do things only you can do, things others can’t. That’s even more valuable." As he speaks, Jack looks toward the city district, his gaze sharpening as he watches the swirling Black Veil.

Jasper Xiao follows Jack Young’s gaze, and suddenly gets it—his eyes light up: "You mean—"

"Exactly. Whether it’s for the innocent, for loved ones, or just for myself, this is something I have to do." Jack Young points dramatically toward the city center, raising his eyebrow and issuing a challenge: "Coming or not?"

"Of course I’m in!" Jasper Xiao’s energy returns; he cracks his knuckles and grins. "I’ve been itching for a fight for ages. Might as well use this chance to cut loose!"

Jack Young laughs, "Feeling fired up now, huh? That’s right, you’ve got to find your own place in all this. If you’re strong, then fight on a strong person’s battlefield. Leave the ordinary battles to ordinary folks. If the savior can’t save everyone, then only the people themselves can save the world." He claps Jasper on the shoulder, chuckling, "Comrade, going solo on the revolutionary road is a bad habit, you know."

"Hahaha!" Yeah, how many nails can one iron body hammer down? Even the strongest, leading three thousand out of the Mist Zone, that’s already pushing the limit. Better to find your own role—maybe you’ll make an even bigger impact. Jasper Xiao sighs, "No wonder Monster Captain always calls you ‘Life Coach’. That ‘Professor’ nickname really fits, you’ve got the whole mentor vibe going on!"

As the two chat, footsteps and voices echo up the stairwell. Looking back, they see Abbo, Big Bro, and Gan Kun coming up, twisting and stretching, groaning loudly: "So tired, so tired, my legs are about to fall off!" Big Bro walks over and grabs Jack Young and Jasper Xiao in a bear hug: "Knew you’d be up here! Come on, Gan Kun actually found something good, let’s all head over!"

"Something good? Where?"

"Right here." Two familiar voices call out as two young women haul up a tray—it's Yang Shu and Meng Meng. Meng Meng leads the way, waving everyone over: "Thanks for your hard work, everyone! We just found some beer—come grab a drink! Oh, and this bottle of Harbin is mine!"

"Oh? Fine, I’ll take this bottle of Yanjing."

"I’ll have a Tsingtao." "Nice selection, I’ll go for Laoshan."

"Hey, look at you guys—people from the northeast want Harbin, Shandong folks grab Tsingtao and Laoshan, and you, Beijing guy, can’t you all be a little more open-minded? I’m taking this Budweiser!"

"Get outta here, you’re not even old enough to drink. This box of Mengniu is yours—go play in the corner."

The Black Veil is heavy, the sky is dark, but up here on the roof of this little building, everyone’s found a bit of joy and comfort. Life always has its storms—this one’s especially fierce, but people still have the right to find happiness in hardship.

With the pop and fizz of cans opening, one beer after another is cracked open—heck, even a box of milk gets a dramatic puncture.