Urban All-Round Master
Chapter 287 - 290 K-9 Death God Reappears

Chapter 287: Chapter 290 K-9 Death God Reappears

Chapter 290: Reappearance of Death God K-9

Various netizens spewed criticisms, yet not a single one was willing to help the family of this migrant worker—what a pity! Looking at the hundreds of pages filled with numerous trivial comments below, Lin Zifeng could only smile bitterly. These people, who only engaged in verbal spats online without any real intention to act, earned nothing from him but a cold laugh.

Gazing at the vast, clear sky, and the ominous appearance of the city, Lin Zifeng laughed derisively to himself. If he had not returned, if he had not witnessed the current scene, perhaps he would never have bothered. But now things were different. Having returned to his country and personally witnessed these injustices, he felt compelled to lend a hand, although he knew the limits of his individual capacity. Still, if he was capable of offering even a modest contribution, why wouldn’t he want to help them?

If everyone thought that their abilities were limited, then who would uphold this world?

Moreover, when he saw the image of a young boy with a naive look, lying on his father’s corpse and crying his heart out on a web page, Lin Zifeng could not help but feel his eyelids brimming with tears, for his own parents had also left him. Only through loss does one truly learn to cherish what is precious.

Having nothing else to do that afternoon, Lin Zifeng returned home early. He first made a call to Li Lin, telling her he might be unavailable later that night. The young girl wasn’t upset and forgivingly excused Lin Zifeng’s yet another cancellation.

She also repeatedly instructed Lin Zifeng to smoke less, as it was bad for his health, sparking a sudden warmth in Lin Zifeng that he had not felt in a long time.

As night fell once again, following the information provided online, Lin Zifeng finally found the family of the victim.

Looking at the small rental house in front of him, which was less than ten square meters, one could imagine just how unsatisfactory the lives of these migrant workers were. Even before he approached, Lin Zifeng could hear the faint sobbing from inside the house.

The cries, distinct even from hundreds of meters away, sounded especially desolate under the night breeze.

For miles around, there was not a soul in sight, only a few scattered small houses, all constructed with simple work sheds.

Through the window of the shed, on the bed inside the room, lay the corpse of a middle-aged man, peaceful and serene. Beside the corpse knelt a woman, her face etched with hardship and greater desolation, and a young boy around six years old lay atop the body of the middle-aged man, crying aloud.

The scene was incredibly desolate. Perhaps due to lack of funds, the father’s body had been in the house for two days, and in such hot weather, it was fortunate that the body was well wrapped and sealed, preventing it from decomposing and producing a foul stench. For a family of migrant workers, where the boss usually withholds wages tightly until the New Year’s payout, how could they afford an ice coffin for the father?

One might ask how such a young boy, not yet an adult but bereft of fatherly love in his tender years, could possibly withstand such an intangible blow?

Looking at his father silently lying on the cold wooden bed, the boy had long since cried his tears dry, his voice gradually hoarse from crying. He had fainted several times, but each time he woke up, he hoped so much that his father would come back to life. Unfortunately, that was no longer possible. Whenever he thought about returning home from school, waiting for his father to come home and bring him something tasty, but now and forevermore, he would no longer enjoy the care of paternal love.

"Dad! Please hit me again, take a look at me, will you? Dad! I don’t want to lose you, please wake up, Mom and I need you," the little boy desperately shook the middle-aged man’s body, but each shake merely caused the cold body to sway slightly, never to breathe again.

"Dad, I don’t want you to leave me, please come back, okay? Junjun can’t be without a dad. Get up and hit me again, get up and scold me again." The little boy cried heartbreakingly, his pale, tender face now completely a mask of tears.

Pouncing on his father’s body, regardless of how his mother tried to stop him, he could not be dissuaded.

The woman was not much better off than the little boy, her eyelids marked by deep tear stains, she stood silently beside the little boy, crying silently because she needed to persist. If she collapsed, who would take care of her child?

"Dad, do you remember what you promised me last month? You said if I got three hundred percents in my studies, you’d take me mountain climbing. Look, Dad, Junjun got them, Junjun got them. Dad, get up, come and see!" As the boy spoke, he became more agitated, desperately shaking the body on the wooden bed, but each shake left the father’s body still cold, not even a finger moved.

Finally, the boy became completely hopeless. Looking at his father’s kind face, he dearly wished his father would come back to life, to see the things he had promised, even if it meant being punished, he would be happy.

Feeling the evening breeze outside, the little boy subconsciously shivered. His porcelain doll-like face, marked with recent tear stains, quickly pounced on his father’s body, murmuring, "Dad, it’s getting cold, don’t catch a chill. Junjun will warm you. I remember when Junjun was cold as a child, Dad, you would always warm the bed for me. This time, Junjun will warm Dad." With that, the six-year-old boy, his face stained with tears, climbed onto his father’s body, his childish voice piercing Lin Zifeng’s heart like a sharp knife, inevitably stirring up painful memories deep inside him.

Watching the little boy curl his fragile body tightly next to his father’s body, constantly calling out to his father, the scene was unavoidably tear-inducing.

That such a young child could feel such strong emotions toward his father showed the deep affection between father and son.

Lin Zifeng’s chiseled face involuntarily showed a trace of grief and anger, his tightly clenched fists already turning a pale shimmering color.

He didn’t continue to watch but chose to silently leave. He knew what he needed to do for the little boy’s family tonight.

Although individual capabilities are limited, if everyone could act like he did, there would certainly be no problem of being too weak.

When the night turned darker once again, Lin Zifeng’s melancholy silhouette had already slipped into a construction building, looking at a long safety banner hanging on it, Lin Zifeng gave a cold laugh.

In the ink-black night, Lin Zifeng entered the building like a ghost, soundlessly and invisibly.

Inside the building, a banquet was being held, attended by many high-ranking dignitaries, each boasting to each other.