The prime time of the day is during the fifth and sixth bells. Baidu search literature network, more good free reading. That's my favorite time of day, and it's also the time when most people in Fangmu District finish work. Though they were so tired that their bones were falling apart, they had finished the day's work. The work is over, and what awaits them is a warm meal and a warm home. The people here are friendly, and the Fangmu area is always full of kindness, pouring my gel body through the rock crevices. I could feel a father radiating fatherly love, rushing home to see his newborn son. I also got a taste of the eagerness of a couple who were going to the border market tonight for a romantic dinner.

Their thoughts soaked me and it felt beautiful, like a warm hot bath, but I was overwhelmed by too many emotions. There will always be some not-so-happy people in the crowd. After all, living in Zaun isn't easy. Some people are healing their wounded hearts, while others are disillusioned at the thought of their next shift, leaving only fiery hatred. I absorb both good and bad at the same time, because that's how I was born. Sometimes bad feelings make me angry, but there's nothing I can do about it. My parents taught me that it's okay to feel bad once in a while. You can't really understand good if it's not bad.

I followed the crowd and the crowd began to spread out in all directions. There were some residual bad feelings that flowed into my mind, so I decided to do something good to dilute them. I leaked down the ventilation network. There are many cracks in these pipes, and I should have fixed them a long time ago, but I never had a chance to get there. I collected some metal fragments along the way, expelled the metal pieces from my body whenever I passed through the cracks, and then heated the outer layer of my body to weld the metal pieces to fill the cracks in the pipes. After the blockade was completed, clean air flowed into Zaun again from the Piltover gas pumping station above. Hopefully, many of the neighborhoods below will have fewer cases of blight disease.

I slid down the ventilation duct to the very bottom and came to the upper level of the gutter area. Baidu search literature network, more good free reading. It's not that rosy here. Many people are destitute, but there are still many who want to take away their meagre possessions. The cesspool in the gutter was filled with toxins and wastewater from the alchemy shop, reminding me of the lonely days when I was used as a test sample. I try to avoid that memory because I get angry. And when I'm angry, I occasionally break things, even though I don't want to. I didn't like that feeling, so I calmed down and slipped into my favorite crevasse, which was just below the old mansion of the Skylight Exchange. It was always friendly here. People travel together, browse merchandise, meet friends, have dinner, or go to see a satirical troupe touring the underground city. The atmosphere here is warm and peaceful, bathing in all the goodness of Zaun.

But as I crossed the street, a sudden pain rippled through my body. Waves of fear and pain churned my gel body. I don't like the feeling, it's out of place, it should belong in the gutter at the bottom. That's where there are more bad things than good things. This bad feeling that shouldn't be happening here kept seeping in, and I started to get angry. I went down the source of the feeling, and I wanted to stop it from spreading.

I squeezed into the old pipes beneath a blacksmith shop. My colloids fill the space under the old floor. The light slanted through the iron railing floor drain on the ground. Angry voices came from above. The shouting was mixed with a man's cry. I pushed my body against the floor drain. My clump of gel split apart, then converged on the ground to recover. I tried my best to reassemble my normal form in the smithy as fast as I could.

The owner of the blacksmith shop was kneeling beside a woman who was bleeding from a badly wounded abdomen. He knelt beside her, one hand reaching out to the other four men, who had turned the blacksmith into a mess. I know the kind of people they are. I can always see them in the ditch as bullies, who specialize in oppressing the good people, forcing them to pay money to eliminate disasters, or smash their tools for subsistence.

The light in the blacksmith's shop came from a lantern with a butcher's apron and a meat hook crudely installed in the other hand. The other three were ordinary gangsters, muscular and simple-minded, dressed in canvas jumpsuits and magnifying goggles. When they saw my growing body, they were all stunned. I swelled my body, my turquoise limbs condensed with strength, and I grinned where I felt fit.

I want these people to get a good sense of what the pain feels like. I know this vicious emotion comes from them, but I don't care. I just want to hurt them, just like they do to others.

"You can't eat and go around," I said.

I threw a punch from my right arm that knocked the first bully into the air. He fell to the metal pillar next to the door and remained motionless. The second bully wields a heavy iron bar, an oversized wrench commonly used by gutter scavengers. The iron rod hit me impartially, and was immediately sucked in by my flexible body. I reached out and lifted him off the ground and threw him onto the beams of the roof. He fell to the ground, and the way his limbs twisted seemed abnormal even to me. The third bully turned to run, but I grabbed the beam with both hands up and leaped forward, putting my feet on his back. As I stomped him flat, their leader slashed the butcher's hook along the middle of my back.

It hurts, it hurts. The pain caused my body to lose its cohesion, and I became a cloud of green slime that spilled onto the floor. For a moment, I completely lost my sense of space and observed and perceived the world from a thousand different angles. The bully stood on top of me, a hideous smile showing a broken tooth. He killed me with joy and was filled with pride in destroying life.

This joy of destruction seeped through me like a vicious potion. I didn't want this feeling, that's not what they taught me, but in order to help the two people in front of me, I had to take advantage of this rage in my body. I must turn my anger into strength against these wicked people. The scattered balls gradually regrouped, and he didn't realize that he hadn't completely killed me. I rushed up from the ground, pounced on him, and then condensed my center of gravity and rushed over like a piledriver. I slammed him into the wall of the smithy, the flesh and bones under him shattering in the impact.

I pulled myself off the blood-stained wall, and the anger began to subside. I molded my body into human form, and then felt the emotions emanating from the couple behind me. My husband looked at me with fear and surprise, while my wife was smiling at me, but I could feel that she was in great pain. I knelt next to her and she grabbed my hand. The hands are soft. Her gratitude calmed me down at once.

I nodded and put my hand on her stomach. I radiated heat and injected a hint of gum into her wound. This part will be separated from me forever and will never be regenerated, but I am still willing, and she will survive because of my devotion. A part of my body repaired her wounds, cemented the broken tissue, and helped regenerate the inside of the abdominal cavity. The husband caressed her wound with his hand and was amazed to see that her skin was renewed.

"Thank you," she said.

I didn't answer. I can't answer. Using this power has exhausted me, and now I am extremely vulnerable. I relaxed and drained back into the underground pipes. I could barely maintain my full form, flowing down the cracks in the rock wall and back to my old place, where I could bathe in good emotions again. I need to rest. I need to feel all the good things about Zuan.

I need to feel alive.

I need to feel.