Chapter Text
I know I messed up.
And now, the consequences are finally here.
Cold metal pressed against my back as restraints dug into my wrists and ankles. The table beneath me smelled faintly of antiseptic and rust—like too many people had suffered here before me. Above, harsh white lights blurred my vision, flickering just enough to make my head throb.
Figures in white coats surrounded me. Their faces were hidden behind masks, their eyes indifferent.
They weren’t here to save me.
They were here to use me.
I let out a weak breath, forcing myself to stay conscious just a little longer.
I guess… I should introduce myself.
My name is Xia Shenqin.
I’m a Handler.
Yeah. One of those.
Handlers manage people with abilities—special ones. Not quite mutants, not quite normal. Weapons, some would say. Assets. Tools.
I had a team.
…Not officially. Not the kind that gets written down in records.
But they were mine.
First, Lin Gengxin—Gengxin-ge. The oldest among us. Somewhere around forty, I think. He never bothered correcting me. He was our shield, literally. Barriers, defenses, unbreakable walls when things got bad.
Then there was Min Jian. Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight? He never cared about titles, told us to drop the “ge.” An assassin through and through. Quiet. Efficient. Deadly. His summoned daggers never missed.
And then—
Ao Ziyi.
The youngest. Twenty-four. Too young for this world, if you ask me. He joked too much, laughed too easily… but when it came to a mission, he never hesitated. Guns, cannons, whatever he summoned—he never missed.
And then there’s me.
Their Handler.
To the world, I was Shitong.
To them…
I was Xia Shenqin.
I wasn’t supposed to let it get that far.
Handlers aren’t meant to get attached. We manage. We command. We don’t… belong.
But I did.
I got too close.
I trusted them enough to give them my real name.
And for a while…
They gave me something back.
Something dangerously close to trust.
Until that incident.
Everything changed after that.
The way they looked at me…
The way they spoke to me…
Cold. Distant.
“Handler.”
Or, if they felt generous—“Shitong.”
No more Xia Shenqin.
No more us.
A sharp sting pierced the side of my neck, snapping me back to the present.
I flinched, breath hitching as something cold flooded into my veins. My vision began to blur, the figures around me melting into shadows.
Ah…
So this is how it ends.
Funny.
After everything…
I didn’t even get the chance to explain.
Darkness crept in, slow and inevitable.
And just before everything faded—
I wondered…
Did they ever hate me?
Or did they just… stop believing in me?