The first sunlight of the new year shone brightly through the leaves, warming the shared house — the hidden refuge of Tehimosin and his twelve special friends. The clinking of glasses blended with cheerful laughter.
“Happy New Year! And happy birthday to Nebelselle, Gigyeumu, Saintlyshu, and Youseinder!”Tehimosin smiled and raised his glass. A beginning more perfect than anyone could ask for.
Twelve people, twelve souls estranged from the world — they chose to live together in happiness, separated from the noise of humankind.
However, that peace came with a price. Because of past wounds, Tehimosin’s friends all carried a deep hatred toward humans. Therefore, every connection to the outside world rested solely on Tehimosin’s shoulders. He became the only “ambassador”: selling Nebelselle’s exquisite outfits, delivering the fresh produce grown in HuaZessin’s garden, negotiating music rights for DeesSwano’s enchanting melodies, or distributing the futuristic devices crafted by Gigyeumu…
Wednesday, February 1, 2023.
On an ordinary day like any other, as his master sent him out to sell goods, he encountered a bizarre phenomenon: the death chain.
The number of deaths reached 500 million in a short period. No accidents, no killers, no disease. All were sudden and mysterious deaths. The most horrifying part was this: the day they died was also the day they were born. A cruel loop of fate.
Tehimosin stood in the silent street, feeling the chilling aura of death. His initial intention was to run home and gather his twelve friends to investigate together.
But then he remembered what they were like: some feared humans, some hated humans, some resented humans…
Tehimosin thought: how could they help? To them, the extinction of humankind might only be an entertaining spectacle.
“I’ll have to do this myself,” Tehimosin whispered as he decided to investigate alone.
One month later, Wednesday, March 1, 2023.
After diving into billions of data fragments and disjointed clues, Tehimosin discovered that the 500 million deaths were all connected to a single person: MalC?urVist.
In the upper-class world and even in society’s darkest corners, this man was revered like a living god under the title: the Architect of Fate.
Rumors about MalC?urVist defied all logic.
He could change a person’s life: short to tall, ugly to beautiful, fat to thin, poor to rich… More extraordinary still was his ability to Foresee the Future. He helped people win luck-based games with such absolute accuracy that the largest lottery corporations and casinos went bankrupt. Even the police bowed to him; no case remained unsolved for more than 24 hours under his intervention.
Tehimosin clenched the document in his hand. A man capable of altering destiny so flawlessly — why would he let 500 million people die on the exact day of their birth?
Perhaps death itself was part of his grand design?
The next day, Thursday, March 2, 2023.
Morning sunlight slipped through the dense leaves of the ancient thousand-year-old tree standing before the university gate. Under that tree was a scene so bizarre it defied belief: a single table and chair, and a sign with bold, arrogant letters: “Architect of Fate.”
Sitting there was a young man with a stillness as deep as a bottomless lake. MalC?urVist.
When Tehimosin approached, MalC?urVist didn’t look up. His calm voice rose:
“I wonder what you’ve come to seek from me?”
Tehimosin smiled enigmatically and looked straight into his eyes.
“Aren’t you the one who can predict the future? Try guessing my real purpose for coming here.”
MalC?urVist: “Very well.”
He extended his hand, letting his fingertips touch Tehimosin. He intended to activate his “Mind Reading” technique to peel apart every secret inside the stranger’s mind. But the moment their skin touched, MalC?urVist’s pupils tightened.
A blinding white light — dazzling and intense, as if he were staring directly into the heart of the sun — engulfed his senses. No information. No imagery. Only total, overwhelming radiance.
His confidence evaporated, replaced by visible unease. He thought: What is this creature? Why can’t I see through him?
MalC?urVist pulled his hand back, his voice trembling slightly:
“Sorry… you should go. I don’t think I can help you.”
But instead of suspicion, Tehimosin spoke in an extremely sincere tone:
“No, you can help. The truth is, I’m currently unemployed, and I want to take you as my mentor.”
MalC?urVist let out a dry laugh.
“Impossible. This is a special ability, not something that can be taught.”
“It’s a divine power, isn’t it?”
That question froze the air. MalC?urVist narrowed his eyes:
“So… you were granted power by a God as well? Since when?”
Tehimosin: “More than four years ago.”
“So did I,” MalC?urVist muttered. “No — exactly four years ago. But I’ve never seen you before.”
Tehimosin replied calmly:
“That’s normal. There are many Gods out there, unknown to us. Maybe Mogodto, Hygodder, or Bagodree… And who knows, the God behind you might be Bogodfour.”
MalC?urVist’s gaze shifted; he began viewing Tehimosin as someone who shared the same fate.
“So, what have you been doing with your power these past four years?”
“A lot,” Tehimosin looked up at the tree canopy. “The first months were endless battles with Hygodder. The four years after that… were just a journey of finding and befriending others.”
“Lucky you,” MalC?urVist sighed in exhaustion. “As for me, these past four years have been spent sitting in one place to ‘help’ humanity.”
“A person like you is admirable,” Tehimosin encouraged him. “You sit here and still manage to shift the entire world.”
“Thank you. By the way… have you ever taken the ‘Power Classification’ test?”
Tehimosin shook his head.
“No. My group originally had six people. I was trained directly by the God, but because the God didn’t have enough time for the other five, He granted me the power to pass it on to them.”
MalC?urVist nodded as if understanding:
“That sounds very similar to our leader, Anmorkzaraft. He was chosen by the God, and then he granted power to the nine of us.”
Tehimosin: “What is each person’s power? Fire, water, wind, lightning…?”
“The ten of us,” MalC?urVist lowered his voice, “all carry the power of Darkness.”
Tehimosin was shocked: “Ten people sharing the same elemental power?”
MalC?urVist: “Of course. Our leader Anmorkzaraft holds the power of darkness, so when he distributes his power, all of us inherit the same energy.”
Tehimosin thought for a moment, then asked:
“What’s your group’s name? Mine calls ourselves the ‘Children of the God.’”
MalC?urVist looked embarrassed.
“Currently… we haven’t agreed on a name. We’re still fiercely arguing between two names: ‘Mystic Night’ and ‘Mighty Darkness.’”
“Why not combine them into ‘Mystic Might’?” Tehimosin suggested.
MalC?urVist: “I’ll tell the group next time.”
Tehimosin: “Can you tell me in detail about that ‘Power Classification’ test?”
MalC?urVist: “It was four years ago, when the nine of us received our powers from leader Anmorkzaraft.”
Flashback to four years ago: Tuesday, January 1, 2019.
Four years prior, the world trembled at the rise of a nation that proclaimed itself “Superior” — the land of the Power-Addicted. It was a place driven by extreme nationalism and grotesque selfishness. To them, every other ethnicity was “inferior,” every religion was “terrorist,” and those of the third gender were “rebels” to be purged.
That nation was the world’s disgrace. Whenever the Power-Addicted invaded En-ray, the world lost its peace.
If the Power-Addicted won, other major nations would imitate them and invade smaller countries to expand their territory.If En-ray won, it would be a legendary milestone in human history — a tiny nation resisting a giant invader.
Under the rule of a President deemed the greatest liar in history, this nation launched an unwarranted invasion of En-ray — a small but resilient country.
“In the past this was our land, now we’re taking it back, what’s wrong with that?” — that shameless excuse ignited a senseless war.
Leader Anmorkzaraft gathered the ones he had found so everyone could meet each other.
Leader Anmorkzaraft: “I assume all of you have already avenged yourselves?”
“Our creed: As long as he isn’t a ghost, no matter where he hides, I’ll hunt him down — even if he’s just a corpse.”
Then the leader continued:
“The world is filthy now, and it needs people to cleanse it. I alone cannot help the world much. So the God asked me to find more helpers. You all are the ones chosen by the God.”
He continued:“The God doesn’t know the extent of your powers yet. Conveniently, there is a country — the Power-Addicted — that disregards international law, lives in delusion, believes that independence, freedom, sovereignty, and territorial integrity of another nation is theirs to decide, and is causing chaos in the world by creating a meaningless war. They beg at the feet of history, believing they are the strongest and most powerful nation on earth. In the modern age they still use warfare to make others obey them. Your mission is to stop this meaningless war. Within 24 hours, stop the war by eliminating those directly responsible for it. The more you kill, the higher your divine rank.”
Leader Anmorkzaraft: “Now. Show everyone your abilities.”
The result after the 24-hour destiny period:
When the clock hit the full day, the ranking was set based on how many lives were taken:
- The Duo of Time and Space:Each erased 500 million lives.
- The Tri-Gods:Three individuals, each killed 30 million
- The Four Saints (including MalC?urVist):Each eliminated 2 million
Even though the death toll reached impossible numbers, the Power-Addicted nation still existed like a lingering ghost.
Back to the present: March 2, 2023.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Tehimosin frowned suspiciously, “but one person killing 500 million people… that sounds unbelievable.”
MalC?urVist smirked:“At first when leader Anmorkzaraft announced the results, I didn’t believe it either — until I learned their powers.”
MalC?urVist explained:“SoGunstMaailm can control time. Turning humans to ashes or sperm is nothing to him — one second is enough for him to kill hundreds or thousands. And Obmalteiku can control space: if someone appears within his sight, they’re instantly teleported — maybe dropped from great heights, or thrown into the ocean, or shot into space and fall back to Earth, or teleported before hungry predators…”
MalC?urVist shuddered at the memory.
“Those two are overwhelmingly strong — nearly unbeatable. The God of Time SoGunstMaailm can see 30 seconds into your future actions, and the God of Space Obmalteiku cannot even be approached.”
“What about your leader?” Tehimosin asked.
MalC?urVist:“Our leader — the Sole Heavenly Emperor through the millennia — Anmorkzaraft, is the strongest. He demonstrated his power with a massive source of dark energy — with one punch he could turn the entire Power-Addicted nation into the largest freshwater lake in the world.”
Tehimosin stayed silent, but inside him, questions flooded: Were they truly gods? Why use human lives to classify their power? He had to investigate further.
Seeing Tehimosin’s silence, MalC?urVist stood up:
“Since you were chosen as well, I’ll let you work as an apprentice for one month. If you fail to learn anything, you’ll be dismissed.”
“Thank you,” Tehimosin replied.
MalC?urVist handed him a group photo. Looking at the faces in it, Tehimosin exclaimed:
“They all look so gentle and kind…”
MalC?urVist burst into laughter:
“Ha ha ha! What are you talking about? When we took that picture, we were all trying to look as cool, angry, and full of hatred as possible!”
Tehimosin smiled, his gaze unusually deep:
“Perhaps because I don’t only look with my eyes. I look with my soul.”
MalC?urVist’s expression softened. He pointed at each person in the photo and began introducing the members of the group “Mystic Might.”
From that day onward, every day from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., Tehimosin stayed beside MalC?urVist. Under the thousand-year-old tree, he stepped into a world where ordinary rules no longer applied.
Friday, March 3, 2023.
The first day of apprenticeship went by in quiet observation. Tehimosin watched greedy people come seeking winning numbers, and police seeking help solving crimes. MalC?urVist granted all requests calmly.
When night fell and all visitors left, MalC?urVist finally revealed the truth behind his miracles.
“I can see a person’s lifespan by touching them,” he said evenly. “And every time I help someone, I take a portion of their lifespan. For example, that man earlier — he was supposed to live to 70. I took 40 years from him in exchange for 400 million USD. His 30th birthday will also be his funeral.”
Tehimosin gasped in shock.
“For those who are lazy and just want to enjoy life? Fine, I help them,” MalC?urVist smirked. “I give them bliss for a short time so that when death comes, they can smile in the afterlife.”
Tehimosin: “What if they die before using all the money?”
MalC?urVist: “Then the money flows into my bank account.”
Saturday, March 4, 2023.
The second apprenticeship day.
A nineteen-year-old boy came — lazy but desperate to get rich quickly so he could marry. MalC?urVist agreed to help.
The boy could live to 90; MalC?urVist took 70 years from him, granting him 700 million. If he complained it was too little, it would be raised to 7 billion — and his lifespan would be shortened to six months (his 20th birthday would be his death).
During a quiet moment, MalC?urVist told a story he witnessed.
“Hospitals won’t save the poor, even if they have the ability. I once met a child who begged me to save his mother, no matter the cost. She had a workplace accident, and doctors said she needed a large amount of money to survive. They let her lie there between life and death until the family could gather enough money. Time passed; they borrowed everywhere but still lacked the amount. So she died.”
“I was the one who brought her back from the dead,” he said casually.
Tehimosin choked on his drink.“You can resurrect the dead too?”
MalC?urVist: “Of course. I am a god.”
Tehimosin: “Then did the boy have to die in her place?”
MalC?urVist: “No, he was meant to live until 100. I exchanged 50 years from him for his mother. I don’t know how long she will live, but the boy will definitely live until 50.”
A customer arrived.
A girl 1.49 meters tall: “I dream of becoming a model, but I’m too short. Can you make me 1.74 meters tall?”
MalC?urVist: “Sure.”
He brought her into a strange box the height she desired. After one hour, she stepped out with the exact height she wanted.
Tehimosin held his head in disbelief.“Going outside really shows how insane this world is.”
Sunday, March 5, 2023.
The third apprenticeship day.
A woman whose body was swollen due to illness came. She wanted to be thin again but lowered her head in shame — she was too poor to pay.
MalC?urVist spoke:
“Being poor means you don’t deserve help? Only the rich deserve assistance?”
He continued:
“I understand why you asked. Society now lives for money; morality has vanished. The rich always receive priority. The poor — the ones who truly need help — receive none.”
He smiled gently:
“Rest assured, I am not like them. To me, help is not decided by wealth. Money does not matter to me. What matters is being able to help everyone. No one deserves to be abandoned in this society — whether rich or poor.”
Tehimosin stood quietly, watching the “Architect” extend his hand to the suffering woman. He realized that beneath the coldness was an unexpectedly compassionate heart.
Chapter 5: The Covenants Within the Swamp of Human Nature
Monday, March 6, 2023.
Tehimosin’s fourth day of apprenticeship.
As time passed, Tehimosin realized that every working day beside MalC?urVist was not just witnessing miracles, but also receiving brutal lessons about human life.
On a gloomy afternoon, the silence under the ancient tree was shattered by frantic footsteps. A young man rushed in, clothes disheveled, his hands stained with dry, crusted blood he hadn’t yet washed off. Panting, he collapsed to his knees before MalC?urVist.
“Help me… please help me! The police are searching everywhere!”
He explained in a panic: he saw a girl in trouble and stepped in to help, but her boyfriend, blinded by jealousy, attacked him. In a burst of rage and self-defense, he accidentally killed the man.
MalC?urVist didn’t look at the killer. His eyes stared into the distance, voice calm yet chilling with cold insight:
“This is a lesson for everyone. When someone already belongs to another, it’s best to keep your distance. People in love are frighteningly selfish. Once they choose to step into the world of love, they also accept the abandonment of all other social connections.”
He glanced at the trembling hands of the young man.
“From now on, whenever you see someone wearing a couple ring or walking hand in hand, avoid them. If they run into trouble, let their lover handle it. That is the best way to protect yourself. As for this case… I will not save you. You will become a warning for the world. Your sacrifice — even if it comes in the form of legal punishment — will not be wasted on those out there who still na?vely misplace their kindness.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than the wail of police sirens echoed from down the street. MalC?urVist had known the man would come and had already informed the authorities.
After the police took the killer away, Tehimosin remained stunned. He turned to ask MalC?urVist about the complexity of human relationships. MalC?urVist sighed softly and took out an old case file he had once handled:
“Do you know the difference between betrayal committed by a man and a woman?”
MalC?urVist pondered: “When a woman cheats, the usual result is a man going to jail for attacking the rival, and another man ending up dead. Strangely, in that chaos, public opinion sometimes views the woman as the least guilty. But when a man cheats, the tragedy develops in a different shade.”
MalC?urVist flipped through pages of memories: “I’ve seen wives who, in fury, turn into demons, dismembering their husbands into a hundred pieces. Others bring their entire family to tear apart the mistress to regain some hollow sense of honor. And some women simply cry in helplessness, withering away because they can do nothing else.”
He looked directly into Tehimosin’s eyes, offering the most sincere advice:
“In short, if you want a peaceful and stable life, the golden rule is: stay away from those who are already married or already belong to someone. Do not step into mazes where the only exit is blood and tears.”
Tehimosin stood frozen. He realized that MalC?urVist didn’t merely change people’s appearances or fortune — he exposed the darkest corners of human souls through each case.
“You see through everything, yet you never intervene to stop things from the start?” Tehimosin asked.
MalC?urVist stood up, packing his workstation as the clock struck 7 PM:
“An architect only draws the blueprint. Whether they step into the house full of traps is their own choice.”
Chapter 6: The Masterplan for Liberation
Tuesday, March 7, 2023.
Tehimosin’s fifth day of apprenticeship.
Under the ancient tree, the atmosphere seemed to thicken as a child with lifeless, exhausted eyes approached.
He suffered from severe depression. The reason: his father constantly berated him, and his mother always defended him — sparking endless fights at home.
The father was a domineering patriarch who used toxic words to insult the boy, hiding his cruelty behind “wanting the best for his child.” At one point, after being verbally abused to the extreme, the boy tried to jump from a high floor but was stopped by his mother and three siblings (four children: two boys and two girls).
His father always believed his own actions were right and everything his wife and children did was wrong.
MalC?urVist looked at the child, his voice devoid of warmth but full of understanding:
“Why did your mother fall in love with your father, even though she knew he was a patriarchal tyrant? Was it because he was handsome or rich?”
The boy shook his head.
“I see. Your father is very good with words, isn’t he? The type who uses biting sarcasm and ridicule to manipulate others?”
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The boy nodded.
MalC?urVist smirked, a bitter smile: “Women lose their innocence to men who speak sweetly, skillfully weaving honeyed words or deceitful tongues.”
He continued: “Patriarchal, authoritarian, stubborn men who disrespect women, force others to obey them, believe everything they do is right, and always blame others when things don’t go their way… that type of man should never have a family. They should leave no descendants. They deserve to die alone. These men should go extinct from Earth.”
The boy looked up at the “Architect,” eyes filled with both hope and fear. MalC?urVist stood and brushed dust from his clothes:
“The one who causes the problem should be the one solved. You can go home now. Your depression has been cured.”
The boy blinked in confusion. At that moment, his phone buzzed violently.
“Answer it,” MalC?urVist ordered.
On the other end was his mother’s trembling voice: “Son… your father… he was hit by a truck! Hurry home!”
The boy froze, his face drained of color. MalC?urVist calmly added another splash of cruel truth:
“Do you know why your mother didn’t divorce him even though they were miserable? Financial constraint. But now that your father is dead, all the inheritance will go to your mother.”
“No…” the boy stuttered, “It’ll go to my grandma. She treats my mom like a servant…”
“You still have a grandmother?” MalC?urVist asked coldly.
Before the boy could reply, the phone rang again — another call from his mother.
“Your grandma just passed away.”
The boy couldn’t contain the wild relief rising inside him. He thanked MalC?urVist repeatedly before dashing toward home. The suffocating trauma he carried for years seemed to dissolve with the passing of those two people.
Tehimosin stood frozen beside him.
“You… you knew all this would happen?” he whispered.
MalC?urVist simply smiled.
Tehimosin watched the boy’s fading silhouette, then looked back at his bizarre mentor. After all these days, he realized he hadn’t learned any “techniques” at all. The only skill he had developed was expressing shock at the ruthless yet effective orchestrations of this Architect of fate.
Chapter 7: The Bankruptcy of Morality
Saturday, April 1, 2023.
A month passed like a blink. Tehimosin was officially fired. The reason was brutally simple: he hadn’t learned a single skill. MalC?urVist had no need for someone who only stood nearby looking astonished. Tehimosin quietly packed his things and returned to the shared home with his twelve friends.
Monday, April 10, 2023.
A week later, Tehimosin unexpectedly returned with his usual calm smile.
MalC?urVist squinted: “Didn’t I fire you?”
“Sorry,” Tehimosin scratched his head sincerely, “I had family matters to handle last week, so I couldn’t stay with you. But even if you fire me, I’ll still follow you.”
MalC?urVist sighed: “You’re persistent. Fine. Do what you want.”
To pass the time, MalC?urVist told Tehimosin about a student who had just left after asking for the exam questions in advance. While waiting, the student shared a bitterly ironic story at his school.
He said he studied with a girl who was both stupid and ugly but rich. Her mother begged a teacher to tutor her, but he refused bluntly: “Your daughter is lazy. Teaching her is pointless.”
But in a similar situation involving another girl — stupid, poor, but beautiful — the same teacher tutored her for free, developed feelings, and was ready to abandon his wife of over a decade for this young student.
Tehimosin shook his head: “This world… morality really is just decorative.”
At that moment, chaos erupted. A mentally ill woman, naked and wandering aimlessly, walked back and forth around MalC?urVist’s seat. Her presence disturbed everyone nearby. Without a word, MalC?urVist snapped his fingers.
A wave of invisible energy swept through the air. The woman’s vacant eyes sharpened instantly. Her schizophrenia vanished in a moment.
Tehimosin was once again stunned: Knowing exam questions, curing depression, now curing schizophrenia… is there anything he can’t do?
The woman, now aware of her nakedness, was overwhelmed with embarrassment. MalC?urVist casually removed his coat and handed it to her.
Once she composed herself, she told her tragic story: her husband, director of a major hospital, was secretly dating a 19-year-old medical intern. He abandoned her and their two children, driving her into insanity.
“I will help you get revenge,” MalC?urVist said icily.
“How?” she asked, trembling.
“I will erase that hospital from the business map. It will go bankrupt.”
“But how?”
“Simple. A hospital without patients will collapse on its own.”
With his enormous influence on social media, MalC?urVist needed only one post. He exposed every detail about the corrupt director who betrayed his wife and destroyed his family.
Public outrage exploded. People boycotted, doctors resigned, and soon the hospital fell — exactly as the Architect predicted.
Days later, the woman returned with her two children and knelt beneath the ancient tree, thanking the man who had resurrected her life. MalC?urVist not only avenged her but gave the family a large sum of money to rebuild their lives.
Chapter 8: The Sketch of Greed and the Ones Who Stand Apart
Tuesday, April 11, 2023.
The morning sunlight filtered through the tree’s canopy, but the space beneath it was thick with worldly news. MalC?urVist and Tehimosin browsed sensational headlines.
The first was a flashy announcement:“A 56-year-old man and his 18-year-old wife are expecting a baby.”
Tehimosin clicked his tongue: “Why is this even in the news?”
“They’re celebrities,” MalC?urVist smirked. “They pay the media to write about their lives. Surprised? Even a singer’s dog dying makes headlines.”
Scrolling further, they found another article about a woman being abused by her husband and crying to her ex-boyfriend on social media.
MalC?urVist glanced at Tehimosin: “Can you guess why she was beaten?”
“Because she kept her ex’s number?” Tehimosin guessed.
“Exactly.” MalC?urVist nodded. “There are two types of women. The first keeps in touch with their ex as a ‘backup plan,’ flirting behind their partner’s back because they believe in ‘multi-hooking’ — preparing a replacement in case of breakup. The second type, the one decent men value, cuts all ties with their exes once they start a new relationship.”
More headlines flowed: a male singer accused of abandoning his child, though the girl had slept with dozens of men, making paternity a guessing game; or a celebrity condemned as “violent” for verbally and physically dominating their spouse.
“Journalists really will publish anything,” Tehimosin sighed.
Just then, in front of them, an elderly man and a young woman kissed passionately, indifferent to the public.
“How old do you think he is?” MalC?urVist asked.
“Seventy?”
“He’s eighty-two. She’s eighteen.”
Both of them fell silent. No explanation was needed; everyone understood that their relationship was not love, but a fair exchange. No one owed anyone; it was a balanced transaction on the scale of mutual benefit.
MalC?urVist pointed at another couple passing by: an ugly, rough-looking man with a stunning beauty beside him.
“That guy has severe inbreeding,” MalC?urVist revealed. “His family wants him to marry a beautiful woman to fix their terrible recessive genes. They hired me to get them a massive fortune. She is simply part of their plan to ‘buy better genetics.’”
“She values money above everything,” Tehimosin muttered.
MalC?urVist began lecturing: “Money is the greatest motivator of human creativity and societal progress. Anyone who mocks or condemns this should join the livestock camp because their mindset doesn’t belong in modern society. Only animals look down on the value of money!”
Silence fell after his harsh declaration. Tehimosin stared into emptiness before replying in a somber voice:
“Then maybe I belong to that camp. Money can be earned again, but some things, once lost, will never return — time, actions, words, health, feelings, opportunities… Your world runs on money, but mine runs on things beyond price.”
Under the ancient tree, the two opposing ideologies collided, creating an invisible distance between the Architect of destiny and his clumsy apprentice.
Wednesday, April 12, 2023.
Under the canopy of the ancient tree, the air was so still you could hear the dry swipes of a scrolling screen. On a day without customers, MalC?urVist and Tehimosin immersed themselves in the virtual world through social media headlines — where the rawest corners of human nature lay exposed.
A 64-year-old old man married an 18-year-old wife. Bitterly, this young wife was even younger than her husband’s son (44) and grandson (24), and was only a few years older than his great-grandchild. The entire husband’s family looked at her with contempt, as if she were a defective product.
MalC?urVist took his eyes off the screen, his voice dropping into a warning tone:“Girls should create some value for themselves. Don’t let yourselves become mere breeding machines or toys for men.”
Tehimosin, bored, tossed his phone aside and looked at MalC?urVist with curiosity:“Hey, do you have any secret to reading people’s hearts? Why do you see through the truth of everything right away?”
“People say the human heart is hard to predict, but in reality they lack experience, haven’t seen enough of life, and don’t have the eye for people.” MalC?urVist began his lecture on human nature. “Just by relying on appearance, speech, gestures, and character, you can tell what kind of person they are. Because: the heart gives birth to the face, and the face gives birth to fate.”
He raised two fingers:“There are two kinds of people who are the most frightening. The first are the Beautiful with Evil Hearts — those who skillfully fake a lovely, innocent exterior but harbor a malicious, deceitful soul within, a sick mind always waiting to harm others. The second are the Ugly with Ugly Hearts — coarse looks paired with a narrow mind. Because they are unattractive and no one befriends them, they are forced to badmouth one person to another to seek a cheap friendship built on attacking others.”
MalC?urVist smirked: “You only need to rely on the selfishness of the human heart to guess correctly. Everyone thinks only for themselves and always harbors the intention of ‘harming others to benefit oneself.’ The more you experience life, the more accurate your reading of people becomes. Those who are happy are, in fact, blind in the same way — what they see is glittering money, not the human heart.”
“So how do we understand them more deeply?” Tehimosin asked.
“Put yourself in their place. But that depends on experience. If you lack experience, your perspective will be narrow. Only when your experience is thick enough can you judge people accurately.” MalC?urVist paused, his eyes deepening. “My advice for you is: be rich in compassion.”
Tehimosin let out a self-mocking laugh: “If that’s the case, I have it in abundance. In terms of money I am poor, but in terms of compassion I am very rich.”
Just then, a student with a shabby appearance and swollen eyes from being bullied came seeking help.
MalC?urVist looked at the boy and slowly advised:“As a person, you should be kind, but not too kind. Be sentimental, but never overly sentimental. In this life, if you don’t want to be hated, don’t show yourself to be more talented than others, and don’t foolishly oppose anyone before you have enough power.”
Tehimosin interjected, in a very practical tone:“But you know, nowadays you’ll be hated even if you do nothing. Because people always harbor greed for material things, fame, and jealousy. If they see someone more beautiful or more capable, they already hate them.”
The student nodded repeatedly: “Sir Tehimosin is right, they beat me even though I did nothing.”
MalC?urVist continued, this time with a military strategy:“No one can survive in isolation. Alliance is humanity’s strongest weapon. Create a group of like-minded friends. No bully dares touch someone who has strong allies behind them. And most importantly, tell both your parents and your teachers about this. Don’t endure in silence.”
“Yes, that sounds workable!” The student brightened, hope flickering in his eyes.
Tehimosin watched the boy leave, then turned back to ask MalC?urVist one last question:“You’ve lectured so much about evil. Do you still believe there are good people in the world? The kind who are both beautiful inside and out, or ugly on the outside but carry a noble soul within?”
MalC?urVist was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the far horizon where the sun was setting:“Yes.”
He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving the horizon.“Those who are beautiful in both appearance and character — rare. Those whose outside is ugly but inside holds a beautiful soul — rare. But rare… does not mean nonexistent.”
He placed his hand on the table, tapping lightly as if counting his thoughts:“The problem is that people often misjudge. The wicked only need to act a little and they’re mistaken for the good. The good are sometimes misunderstood as the wicked, simply because they don’t know how to speak honeyed words.”
MalC?urVist turned to Tehimosin, his eyes sharp but not cold:“Truly good people do not boast. They are not arrogant. They do not wait to be recognized. They do the right thing because they want to, not because they need applause.”
The evening wind blew harder. He half-closed his eyes and continued:“And usually… such people will be crushed by this rotten society before you can realize how good they truly were.”
A brief silence.
Thursday, April 13, 2023.Under the ancient tree, MalC?urVist sipped a bitter tea, his eyes boring into the void as if rereading humanity’s diary.
“You know what, Tehimosin?” he said in a low voice. “If you ask older people what they regret most, most will say they regret having lived a life too much for others. If they could be young again, they would live more selfishly, thinking only of themselves.”
He put the cup down, the sound of ceramic hitting wood ringing dryly:“That’s why today’s youth are increasingly pragmatic and self-centered. Caring about others is not a crime, but being selfish to the point of cruelty is indeed a crime.”
Right then, a young woman approached with a sorrowful face: “My boyfriend and I were together for four years. When I was 14, he was 19. He was supposed to marry me when I turned 18, but he changed and we broke up. After the breakup he immediately got a new girlfriend.”
When she showed MalC?urVist his photo, a contemptuous smile flashed across his lips: “So it’s this dog. Don’t be surprised, I know him.”
MalC?urVist exposed him calmly, “He never loved anyone. His only aim is to seek transactions of the flesh.”
He stood up, stepped toward the girl, his voice razor-sharp:“He lives by the rule ‘anyone is fine,’ as long as she’s a girl and can satisfy his lust. His list of lovers runs every type: flat-chested, hunchbacked, buck-toothed, underbite, fat, short, old… anyone he can get into bed. Yet those girls, despite imperfect looks, have brains. They see through a rotten man: promiscuous and exploitative of women.”
MalC?urVist pointed at a photo of the girl standing with forty other men — the new lover of the ex-boyfriend:“Is this his current girlfriend?”
The girl nodded, “Yes, that’s right,”
MalC?urVist said, “Looks pretty, but unfortunately brainless? Don’t be sad because of this guy.”
After helping the girl find an opportunity for a new relationship, MalC?urVist turned to Tehimosin.“Doing this for four years, witnessing every tragedy, I dare to sum up one thing: the majority of extroverts have a very high tendency to cheat.”
Tehimosin nodded in agreement: “Extroverts interact too much; temptation is always around, so it’s hard to avoid. Introverts, on the other hand, often get caught in love triangles because their naivety and good nature make them easily deceived by extroverts.”
Tehimosin curiously asked: “So what do you think about their reasons for cheating? They always excuse it by saying they were unhappy, so they looked for someone else?”
MalC?urVist sneered, his eyes full of mockery:“Happiness or not is just a pretext to cover limitless greed. The essence of infidelity isn’t searching for new love; it’s searching for novelty to gratify a selfish ego. They don’t lack love; they lack self-respect and loyalty. When a person has no moral principles, any reason can become a justification.”
Tehimosin applauded the bitter yet realistic conclusions of MalC?urVist. He realized that, in the Architect’s world, every action is dissected coldly to expose the ugliest inner flesh.
Friday, April 14, 2023.
A middle-aged man came to the ancient tree in a pitiful state. His clothes were disheveled, eyes bloodshot from sleeplessness, and his breath reeked of alcohol. He dropped to his knees, wailing that he had just been fired, his wife wanted a divorce, and the house had been seized by the bank.
“I’ve lost everything! I’ll kill them all, then kill myself! I have nothing left to lose!” he shouted, his hands trembling as he drew a small dagger.
Tehimosin was about to spring forward to stop him, fearing a rash act, but MalC?urVist calmly raised a hand to halt him. He showed no fear; his eyes remained as calm as a rippleless lake.
MalC?urVist looked straight at the man and said coldly:“A person with nothing left to lose is the most terrifying.”
The man stiffened, glaring at MalC?urVist with ferocity. But the Architect continued in a voice drenched with disdain:“Look at you. What are you trying to do? Kill people to vent your anger and then end your life like a coward? That isn’t the act of someone who ‘has nothing left to lose’; it’s the tantrum of a child whose favorite toy has been taken away.”
He turned to Tehimosin, who was still frozen with worry:“People nowadays are just kids in adult bodies. With those kinds of people, we must be the adults.”
MalC?urVist stood, walking slowly toward the tip of the man’s dagger. The pressure emanating from him made the man tremble and back away.
“A true adult knows how to rebuild from ashes instead of waving a knife at things that were never his. You say you have nothing? You still have your life, you still have your hands. You’re just crying because society no longer soothes you like your mother did.”
MalC?urVist extended his hand and, gently yet firmly, took the dagger from the man’s slack grip.
“I won’t give you money, nor vengeance. I’ll give you a job at the mine to the west — a place where you’ll labor brutally for every crumb of bread. There, you will either learn to truly grow up or you’ll die of exhaustion. The choice is yours.”
The man stood stunned, his aggression evaporating, replaced by a bitter awakening. He bowed, quietly took the paper with the address, and left in silence.
Tehimosin exhaled and sank to the ground: “You’re reckless, MalC?urVist. He could have stabbed you.”
“When you treat them as children in a tantrum, you know how to control them,” MalC?urVist said evenly, sitting back down and scrolling his phone as if nothing had happened. “The problem is that the world has too few adults, so oversized children run wild everywhere.”
Monday, May 1, 2023.
Everything went on as usual; MalC?urVist and Tehimosin continued listening to others, growing closer.
Thursday, June 1, 2023.
A strangely quiet day. Tehimosin sat at the wooden table; not a single visitor came. Listlessly, he scrolled social media, where accusations of idea theft were raging. Netizens clamored for justice, called for the police, and furious posts flooded the platforms.
Under the thousand-year-old tree, the air suddenly thickened with gloom.MalC?urVist sensed he was about to die.
“Tehimosin, my time is running out,” MalC?urVist said softly, his voice so calm it chilled. “And there’s a truth you should know… In fact, I died long ago.”
Tehimosin froze, nearly dropping his phone. He listened to a past buried in resentment.
The past of MalC?urVist:At nineteen, he was an outstanding student at the University of Construction. His parents were poor sanitation workers, so he dreamed of using knowledge to change his fate.
MalC?urVist was very talented, diligent, intelligent, with a lucid mind and profound learning, versed in the heavens above and the earth below… He excelled in every subject.
When he entered university, he was enticed to make friends (in kindergarten, primary school, middle school, and high school, he had no friends). The school constantly pushed the philosophy that “study requires friendship; no company has only one employee.” An introverted, timid person like him mistakenly believed that. He joined a friend group: Dazragon, Nuvéa, Trélling, Mirellin.
He read the news: Which countries are at risk of being submerged by the sea? From that, he conceived a genius idea: to research a rotating building that could move up and down, resistant to earthquakes, tsunamis, floods… When a country was flooded, the building would rise. The building was X-shaped.
Because he trusted his friends too much, he shared every detail in the group (never imagining he was being exploited and betrayed) to show off to them (those he trusted in university).
That group, led by Mirellin, mocked him as a delusional dreamer with a ridiculous, impossible idea.
He began working alone, diligently. Whatever he completed, he shared in the group, thinking the others didn’t care. In the end, his invention succeeded.
But Mirellin secretly stole the entire research. Backed by power and money, she registered the copyright; everyone acknowledged the research as hers. She submitted the idea to the school, seized a 1-million-USD scholarship, and then openly went to America to study as a “genius.”
Her father worked in the Ministry of Construction and was very powerful (he donated a large sum to the university so the school covered up her crime). He knew the Vice President of the university — this Vice President had his own construction company and badly needed her father’s backing. The other guys in the group didn’t dare testify for him.
He was very shy, introverted, and didn’t hang out with anyone, while that girl was an extrovert with many connections and a wide network. Whenever he shared an idea in the group, she flaunted it outside to friends (outside — part-time colleagues or former classmates), boasted on social media (of course she blocked MalC?urVist on those platforms). Her parents were proud of her; outsiders praised her endlessly…
He told everyone, but no one believed him. The group was deleted on her orders; she was protected by the school, so there was no evidence. Those in the group didn’t dare speak up for him and even advised him: “Drop that idea,” “You’re talented, you can come up with something else better,” and even said, “You should feel lucky you had something for others to take advantage of”… Introverts always suffer losses.
Their parents knew each other and had business ties, so they protected one another tightly. One worked in the Ministry of Construction, one in the Department of Construction, one owned a construction company… (Trélling’s father worked in the Ministry’s Project Management Board, Nuvéa’s father worked in the Department of Construction, Dazragon’s father was a provincial chairman).
They also knew there was no benefit in associating with MalC?urVist, so everyone turned their backs on him.
Dazragon: “So you’re good at studying — so what. Without connections you get no job. If you have nothing for us to exploit to bring you into the company, what benefit would hiring you bring to my company?”
Their paths were prearranged by their parents, mapped out in advance, so they didn’t need to try and still got what they wanted. For example, father is an engineer and the child becomes an engineer; father is in the government and the child later works in the government.
The tragedy didn’t stop. MalC?urVist’s father suffered multiple injuries in a traffic accident, but no one cared. It was surely a blatant setup by Mirellin’s faction (people from the school or her family) to silence his family.
His father died in loneliness.
At the same time, Mirellin’s mother merely had a light cold, but instead of going to a pharmacy, the rich chose to go to the hospital for a full checkup.
Everyone — friends, teachers, colleagues — swarmed around her, asking after her health like she was a queen.
The resentment reached its peak. Without weapons or blows, injustice itself squeezed the heartbeat of the poor student. He died suddenly right in his room.
Tehimosin thought: no wonder the victims of MalC?urVist all died of sudden death.
MalC?urVist told Tehimosin: Poverty doesn’t kill; hardship doesn’t kill; but resentment will surely kill. Killing someone doesn’t require a weapon.
Tehimosin: continue your story — after you died suddenly, how are you alive now?
MalC?urVist continued:Leader Anmorkzaraft appeared and resurrected him as an entity to execute justice: “This world needs you to save it from those with malicious ambition. From now on, your mission is to kill those evil people whose intentions and hearts harm others.”
He died in bitterness, yet the school did not defend him or investigate; they only said: “The dead are gone; let us care for the living.”
In response to MalC?urVist’s accusations of crime, they (the school) only cared whether that girl was safe, whether she needed help from the school, and how the school could protect her. Outsiders hearing MalC?urVist’s story could tell who was right and who was wrong.
That girl felt no remorse for what she did,=> It was she who forced the gentle to turn into a demon.
That night, MalC?urVist met her again while she was celebrating a farewell party before going to America.
Seeing him, she panicked: “MalC?urVist, didn’t you die?”
Mirellin: “A dream — this must be a dream.”
MalC?urVist said, “I have come seeking truth, justice, fairness.”
Thinking it was a dream, she quickly regained her arrogance: “Truth? Justice? Fairness? Do the things you seek help you survive in this society? Do they feed you? Do they help you buy a mansion, a car… or anything you want?”
Mirellin: “Or is money the thing that gives you everything, huh? When you’re sick and go to the hospital without money, will the doctor save you or throw you out to die on the street? When you’re guilty and have no money, will a lawyer save you? See? In this world, only money matters. Money is reality. The truth, justice, fairness you pursue mean nothing in this society.”
Mirellin: “Look: when you died, did the school care about you? Or did they care about me, the living? The living can bring money — a lot of money — to the school. How can the dead help the school earn money, that they should care about you?”
Mirellin: “As long as people breathe, people need money. Don’t talk about truth, justice, fairness — even morality, honor, or dignity — they don’t need those.”
Mirellin: “I’m not wrong; the one who’s wrong is you. Ha ha ha.”
MalC?urVist said, “Even in death, she wouldn’t admit fault.”
MalC?urVist: “It’s unbearable when you strive and struggle to obtain what you want, and someone else just casually steals your result. Such a thing can kill a person — no joke.”
MalC?urVist did not kill anyone; his hands never stained with blood. He only needed to touch anyone and convert their lifespan into money — and that was enough to make her sleep forever.
MalC?urVist said: “What I hate most is the type of foolish girl who does wrong but always believes everything she does is right.”
MalC?urVist: Parents don’t know how to teach their children; pampering breeds spoiled brats. “The girl is always right and the boy is always wrong,” “I’m always right; if I’m wrong, it’s your fault”… why plant such ideas in girls’ heads?
MalC?urVist: That very mindset creates toxic girls. When a girl is wrong, we should correct and teach her… but instead they claim she is right, encourage her to keep doing wrong, and make her believe that whatever she does is always right, and whatever others do is always wrong.
MalC?urVist: Beyond parents, her friends also make her rotten; as long as she’s a girl, they overlook all her mistakes rather than pointing out where she’s wrong.
The next day, the entire university died; when the police investigated, they all reached the same conclusion: sudden death. In reality, their lifespans had been taken by MalC?urVist.
Once again: MalC?urVist never kills.
MalC?urVist: When someone turns bad, we should not only blame them but also blame their parents and friends.
MalC?urVist: Mirellin was arrogant, stubborn, obstinate, blind, and hard to change her mind. She did not easily accept criticism or change her viewpoint and was often certain she had made the right decision. She never listened to others.
After she died, MalC?urVist realized one thing: “There is no such thing as karma in this world. The wicked still live well. If you want to eradicate evil, you must do it yourself.”
MalC?urVist: “In today’s society, everyone does evil without fear of retribution, because true retribution doesn’t exist; money is the only thing that exists in this world. Fine — if humans love money so much, I will give them money.”
MalC?urVist’s slogan: “Those who do evil will be punished by Heaven; if Heaven does not punish them, then I will punish evil in Heaven’s stead.”
MalC?urVist quizzed Tehimosin: Do you know why her friends, relatives, and acquaintances didn’t hate Mirellin?
Tehimosin said: Because they’re a bunch of pragmatists. They associate only to exploit one another.
MalC?urVist: Correct. And one more reason? Have you heard the saying “Those who are good at socializing cannot be hated”?
MalC?urVist smirked.“First: People who are good at socializing (like Mirellin) know how to manipulate emotions. They know when to praise, how to feign empathy, and, most importantly, how to create a perfect ‘mask.’ Humans love with their ears and eyes. When someone always speaks pleasantly and appears energetic and kind before crowds, people tend to excuse their wrongdoings. ‘She’s so skillful; this must be a misunderstanding’ — that is how society works.”
“Second: It’s not that they aren’t hated, but that they eradicate the seeds of hatred through benefits or manipulation. They make those around them feel that hating them is ‘wrong’ or ‘unprofitable.’”
“A smooth talker without ethics is the most dangerous kind of demon, because they can turn the victim into the villain and themselves into a saint in the public eye.”
“People like Mirellin. In social psychology, this is called the Halo Effect — when someone is attractive and skilled in communication, the brains of those around them automatically ‘whitewash’ all their wrongdoing.”
“Mirellin didn’t need to prove her innocence. She only needed to appear lovable and intelligent, and the crowd would find reasons to defend her. That is the most brutal injustice MalC?urVist suffered as a mortal: He had the truth, but she had the crowd’s ‘favor.’”
“That skillfulness turned her into an untouchable ‘saint,’ making the victim, even when telling the truth, be seen as a jealous malcontent.”
Tehimosin looked at the Architect and, for the first time, understood why MalC?urVist was so cold. He was not a demon; he was a victim of a world run by demons for far too long.
Friday, June 2, 2023.
After hearing MalC?urVist’s entire past, Tehimosin sat quietly under the tree. He watched the stream of passersby, among whom were quite a few who looked very “decent” and “smooth.”
“Hey,” Tehimosin spoke up, “if people who are good at socializing are that hard to hate, then what’s the only way to rip off their mask?”
MalC?urVist didn’t look up; he kept fingering a gold coin — a token representing the years of lifespan he had collected:“Very simple. Take away what makes them ‘decent.’ Such people are only smooth when they have money, power, and an audience. When cornered, when their interests are threatened, the demon inside will bare its fangs. Then their words will no longer be honey, but poison.”
He looked at Tehimosin, his eyes flashing with sharp light:“Mirellin was the same. Before she died, she stopped acting. She cursed me; she mocked justice. That was the moment she was truest to her nature. Unfortunately, her only audience then was the Reaper.”
MalC?urVist stood, his shadow stretching long across the ground, eclipsing a swath of light:“Do you know why I chose you as my apprentice, Tehimosin? Because you are the only one who looks at me without fear and without worship. You see me as a human being, even though I have long been a ghost.”
He handed Tehimosin an old leather notebook with a frayed cover:“My time is almost up. This world does not lack smooth talkers, but it sorely lacks those who dare look at naked truth. Don’t be deceived by pretty words. Look at what they do when no one is applauding.”
Tehimosin didn’t believe it; every day MalC?urVist said that, yet every day Tehimosin saw him helping people.
Saturday, July 1, 2023.
The world suddenly lost its axis. In front of the gate of the Polytechnic University campus — the place that once served as the quiet “office” of an entity not belonging to the human realm — everything was withering at a terrifying speed.
Tehimosin stood motionless. Before his eyes, the great ancient tree that had sheltered their conversations was now nothing but a dry, withered corpse.The glamorous school suddenly turned desolate, dusty, and cold, as if it had been abandoned for decades.
MalC?urVist was dead.
It was no longer a premonition or a mysterious disappearance. After hearing MalC?urVist tell his past and the truth about his own entity a month earlier, Tehimosin knew better than anyone: MalC?urVist could not simply vanish.MalC?urVist had no ability to fight; he only possessed the hand of death — a cold power that could strip lifespan in exchange for stacks of money.
Tehimosin whispered: “Who, or what organization, killed him?”
On the stone table lay a solitary letter. The ink was perfectly dry, MalC?urVist’s handwriting stood out: neat, crisp, slender yet decisive without any extra stroke — exactly like the way he ran his life.
Tehimosin opened the letter. The first word was his name:
“Tehimosin,If you are reading this, it means I am no longer here.Go find my other friends.Help them, in my stead.”
He turned to the back:
“To my friends:This is Tehimosin. He is a good person.He will help us.”
But the true tragedy had only just begun. The moment MalC?urVist died, the miracles he had bestowed started to collapse like a sandcastle before the waves.
In the city, screams rang out. Those whose appearances had been “adjusted” by MalC?urVist were now horrified as they looked in the mirror. Tall, slender girls suddenly returned to their petite, short frames. Those who had once been a fragile 40 kg suddenly regained the chubby 70 kg of the past. Flawless beautiful faces began to crack, revealing the ugly original flaws beneath. Most terrifying of all were those whom MalC?urVist had pulled back from the realm of the dead; they fainted on the spot, their bodies quickly growing cold, returning to the forms of corpses that should long ago have lain deep underground.
People rushed to look for MalC?urVist, but not out of pure love. They sought him for money and for personal selfishness.
Over the past four years, MalC?urVist had sown wealth in a generosity bordering on madness. When buying a drink priced at 10 USD, he casually handed over 1000 USD and never took change. He was the lifeline of small vendors, the hope of the destitute. When he disappeared, the flow of money stopped. Shops suddenly fell silent, and the fake grateful smiles on the faces of the sellers turned into anxiety and regret for a “mobile ATM” that no longer appeared.
However, amidst that pragmatic crowd, there were still eyes carrying true sorrow. They were children from kindergarten to university — those he had quietly sponsored with tuition fees for many years, with money exchanged from the lifespans of the wicked. To them, MalC?urVist was neither a demon nor an eccentric rich man, but the only one who had reached out when the world turned its back.
Tehimosin clenched the letter in his hand. He recognized a bitter truth: MalC?urVist had been right. People only cherish miracles when those miracles benefit them. When the miracles vanish, they do not cry for the one who created them; they cry for their own wallets that are running dry.
“You saw through everything, didn’t you, MalC?urVist?” Tehimosin murmured into the void. “You left this letter not for me to save them, but for me to see the true nature of the society you tried to redeem.”
The evening wind blew past the tree’s roots, sweeping away old newspapers.
Tehimosin felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. He began to walk along the path the Architect had drawn. The journey to seek MalC?urVist’s “friends” began here.