Walking home that evening, anger bubbled inside Liang Wei.
He wanted to use his power—randomly, anywhere, on anyone—but he didn't dare. Not yet.
The streets were quiet, the shadows long. And then—a bump.
A rough hand hit his shoulder.
"Watch it, kid!" a gangster growled.
Most people would have flinched. Liang Wei didn't.
He stared into the man's eyes.
Diarrhea, he thought.
Suddenly, the man's face contorted. He grabbed his stomach and fell to the ground with a groan.
Liang Wei's heart raced.
I can control this. I can start it, stop it… big, small… every detail.
He crouched near the man, pretending concern.
"You okay?" he asked sweetly, hiding the thrill he felt. "Do you need help?"
The gangster whimpered, confused, unsure if Liang Wei was real or cruel.
Liang Wei focused again. Stop. The groan paused. Go. The groan returned. Small… big… Every flicker of control worked exactly as he imagined.
Minutes passed. Liang Wei continued the experiment silently, testing every nuance of the flow, every limit of his power.
Finally, he waved to someone nearby. "Call an ambulance!"
Paramedics arrived, lifting the gangster onto a stretcher. Liang Wei watched, detached, almost clinical.
The man was gone—but not before Liang Wei had discovered just how far his power could reach.
A thrill ran through him.
Fearless. Powerful. Unstoppable.
And for the first time, he realized: this was only the beginning.