Black Magic Rose Chapter 24

Chapter 24: The Last Hope

The scent of blood in the deepest part of the Wen Family manor was quietly masked by a carefully orchestrated “accidental explosion caused by a gas pipeline leak.” News reports, consisting of only a few words, characterized several charred, twisted bodies whose energy cores had been completely Annihilated as “security personnel who unfortunately died in the line of duty.” The entire Wen Family was struck silent with fear, a silent dread spreading behind the opulent columns and heavy curtains. They finally understood that the “hero” who had returned from slumber was not a pawn to be manipulated at will, but a cornered beast driven to desperation, its fangs still sharp.

Wen Jingheng stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window in the study, outside which was the deepest darkness before dawn. He had just finished a one-sided “cleanup.” A faint tingling sensation from the fused power still lingered on his fingertips—a strange, unfamiliar touch that intertwined coldness and searing heat, reminding him that he was no longer his former, pure self. The black-robed man’s collapsing confession before death echoed like venom in his ears:

“The Elder Council… and the high-ranking officials of the Supernatural Administration Bureau… have reached a consensus… The power within you is no longer pure… it is an anomaly more uncontrollable than the Evil God… The purge plan… was launched long ago… It was… it was your father, Elder Wen Zhenghong… who ultimately signed the order…”

Father… Wen Zhenghong…

This name was like an ice-tempered dagger, precisely stabbing the softest and most undefended corner of Wen Jingheng’s heart. An anomaly more uncontrollable than the Evil God? The final signed order? It turned out that the one who issued the purge order was his own flesh-and-blood father!

A surge of emotions—a mixture of absurdity, sorrow, and fury—slammed into him, almost making him lose his footing. He gripped the cold window frame, his knuckles white from the force. This hypocritical order, this world built on lies and exploitation, was indeed, as Shu Yijin had said, not worth protecting. Even the most fundamental bond of kinship could be discarded so easily.

The Black Rose mark on his chest pulsed with a faint but clear throb. It wasn’t pain; it was more like a… silent inquiry and confirmation. As if the Evil God, thousands of miles away, was perceiving his decision and pain through this bizarre connection.

Wen Jingheng did not respond to the throb. He merely forced down the churning blood and silently circulated the chaotic yet powerful new energy within his body. Holy Energy and the sinister intertwined, light and darkness merged, bringing unprecedented strength but also a deep, bone-piercing sense of tearing. He needed to familiarize himself with it, to control it, in order to survive the coming storm. But at this moment, he needed an answer, a final answer from the source.

As soon as the sky began to lighten, he dismissed all servants and drove away from the Wen Family manor alone. He did not go to the Elder Council. Instead, he drove toward the other side of the city, to the mansion that was his nominal “home”—the secluded villa of his biological father, Wen Zhenghong. Unlike the main residence’s luxurious clamor, this place was colder and more heavily guarded.

Unexpectedly, Wen Zhenghong seemed to have anticipated his arrival; the study door was open. Wen Zhenghong stood with his back to the doorway, facing a massive world map, his figure appearing tall and rigid in the morning light.

“You’ve come,” Wen Zhenghong’s voice was calm and flat; he didn’t even turn around.

Wen Jingheng walked into the study and closed the door. The air was thick with the scent of fine cigars and old books. He looked at his father’s back—the man who had been strict and emotionally distant since his childhood, yet who had also shown a moment (perhaps feigned) of anguish when he was severely injured and unconscious.

“Why?” Wen Jingheng’s voice was hoarse, carrying the fatigue of a sleepless night and a tremor he desperately tried to suppress. “Give me a reason. I am your son.”

Wen Zhenghong slowly turned around. His face bore some resemblance to Wen Jingheng’s, but his features were more severe, his eyes sharp as an eagle’s, and his aura of long-held authority was intimidating without effort. He looked at Wen Jingheng, his eyes devoid of a father’s warmth, holding only scrutiny and… a hint of imperceptible regret?

“Son?” Wen Zhenghong scoffed, the laugh cold and mocking. “Wen Jingheng, are you still so naive? In the Wen Family, in the Supernatural World, the word ‘son’ is the most useless luxury.”

He walked behind the desk and sat down, his hands clasped on the surface. “You ask me why? Fine, I’ll tell you. Because you are no longer ‘Wen Jingheng the Savior.’ You are an uncontrolled variable. You have fused with the Evil God’s power. That is no longer the pure Source Blood power meant to protect humanity, but chaos full of uncertainty. The high command cannot allow such a powerful and uncontrollable existence to operate outside the system. Your very existence is a threat to the existing order.”

“So you must purge me?” Wen Jingheng took a step forward, his eyes bloodshot. “Just because of this ‘uncertainty’? And you, my father… personally ordered it?”

“Precisely because I am your father, and more importantly, an Elder of the Wen Family, I must do this!” Wen Zhenghong’s voice suddenly rose, carrying a near-ruthless determination. “Emotional weakness is the greatest flaw! The Wen Family has stood for a thousand years based on absolute rationality and control over the big picture! For the survival of the family and the ‘stability’ of the world, personal sacrifice, even that of my son, is a necessary price!”

Necessary price… Wen Jingheng felt as if he had been struck by lightning, staggering back a step until he hit the bookshelf behind him. He looked at Wen Zhenghong, as if truly seeing the man for the first time. The rigorous training of his youth, the seemingly caring instructions before he fell into a coma—it had all been to polish him into a suitable tool. When the tool was no longer useful, or even threatened to cause harm, discarding it was the only option.

“Then why bother giving birth to me? Why…” Wen Jingheng’s voice dropped, carrying the emptiness of a broken spirit.

“Your birth was part of the plan,” Wen Zhenghong’s tone returned to calmness, as if stating an unrelated fact. “The Wen Family needed an ultimate weapon, a Savior who could bear the Source Blood and turn the tide at a critical moment. You were the most successful product. But now, the product has a flaw. To prevent that flaw from causing a greater disaster, recall and disposal is the only choice.”

Product… flaw… recall and disposal…

These cold terms completely shattered the last shred of hope in Wen Jingheng’s heart. He was not himself; he was merely a defective “product.”

Just then, hurried and dense footsteps sounded outside the study. The characteristic hum of an energy force field approached, locking down the entire villa!

Wen Zhenghong glanced out the window, his expression unchanged, and merely said faintly, “They’ve arrived. It seems your ‘cleanup’ last night wasn’t entirely flawless.”

Wen Jingheng instantly understood. This was not a place of last hope at all, but another trap! Wen Zhenghong’s conversation with him was merely to stall for time, waiting for the encirclement to be completed! His own biological father had personally set this deadly trap for him!

“Listen up, those inside! Supernatural Administration Bureau Special Operations Team! Wen Jingheng, cease resistance immediately and surrender!” The amplified voice cut coldly through the walls.

Wen Jingheng looked at Wen Zhenghong, the man who had given him life and then personally pushed him toward desperation. He suddenly smiled, a pale, broken smile tinged with endless sorrow and a hint of madness.

Hope was completely extinguished. The betrayal from his own bloodline was more lethal than any enemy’s blade. The world had finally revealed its most ferocious fangs, mercilessly swallowing his last foothold, and even that “foothold” itself was part of the trap.

Then, let it be as you wish.

He took a deep look at Wen Zhenghong, the last trace of “son” emotion in his eyes completely Annihilated. In its place was a dead, icy coldness and a certain destructive madness, much like Shu Yijin’s.

He didn’t speak. He simply spun around violently, his Chaotic Energy erupting. He transformed into a stream of black and gold light, shattering the study’s tempered glass window and resolutely charging toward the dense encirclement outside!

Bullets, energy beams, and restraining runes rained down like a storm.

The hero was dead. What survived would be the monster, abandoned by the world.