Chapter 103: Division

Though Ai Chixiang ultimately spat out harsh words, Mo Shu felt somewhat comforted that the other had used the word "respect." As the gathering was about to disperse, Mo Shu had intended to step forward and shake hands as a gesture of goodwill, but after a moment’s hesitation, he decided against it—after all, Hei Jing, who had suffered at the hands of Ai Chixiang and the others, was still lying in the hospital.

Yet fate has a way of contriving coincidences so inescapable that even Mo Shu could not dodge them.

Returning to the camp, Mo Shu headed to the ERC official’s office to report the accident investigation process. After the tedious paperwork and submissions, he stepped out only to unexpectedly encounter Ai Chixiang, who was also there to file a report.

The corridor was narrow, leaving no room for avoidance; they had no choice but to face each other calmly.

Ai Chixiang’s face still bore those frightening dark red scars, unchanged in the least. However, his expression was noticeably milder compared to before.

Mo Shu quietly observed him. After all they had been through, he found himself more tolerant and composed.

“Sorry... Mo Shu, about Jing’s accident—I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Ai Chixiang unexpectedly apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful.

Mo Shu remained silent. So much grief and injustice could not be dispelled by a mere apology; yet even if he were to cripple the man before him, it would not restore Hei Jing’s health.

“And my cooperation with the Carbon Black Gold Racing Team— that’s not something I control alone,” Ai Chixiang continued, as if determined to confess piece by piece. His eyes pleaded for help, prompting Mo Shu to consider that perhaps this pitiful yet detestable man harbored untold stories.

“Go on...” Mo Shu said cautiously, having learned to remain vigilant since entering the racing world and suffering many losses.

“They... Black Gold, Vermin—they’re nothing but murderers. Their evil methods are beyond reproach. Look at my face, and...” Ai Chixiang began to roll up his sleeve to show something, but abruptly stopped midway.

“What? Keep going,” Mo Shu urged.

“...” Ai Chixiang fell silent, as if his words were being stifled.

Impatient, Mo Shu wondered what on earth the man was trying to do—uttering half a sentence before retreating nervously.

Suddenly, Ai Chixiang’s expression shifted dramatically; the gentle demeanor vanished, replaced by a contorted, terrifying visage unlike anything before.

“You! Stop talking nonsense with that kid from the Divine Racing Team!” Ai Chixiang’s roar did not seem aimed at Mo Shu.

“I... I’m asking Mo Shu to help us,” a meek voice croaked from within him, answering his own question.

“Help?! Have you forgotten he’s our common enemy?”

“Not necessarily an enemy—I think we could be friends with Mo Shu!”

“Traitor! As a traitor, you must be executed!”

“Please, trust me...” the voice pleaded.

“Get lost! This is the last time I say this!” Ai Chixiang barked.

“Don’t... boo hoo...” he began to sob.

What was this? A double act?

One moment roaring, the next feigning hurt—was Ai Chixiang an actor? Mo Shu was dumbfounded.

But it wasn’t over. The sobbing abruptly ceased, and the hand that had covered his face dropped as wild, unrestrained laughter erupted.

Such a sharp, almost theatrical shift—from gentle rain to a raging storm—nearly overwhelmed Mo Shu.

“Mo Shu!! I never thought you had such skill in winning hearts, but too bad—you ruined him! Execution, execution is inevitable!” The tone changed again, the face twisted into a grotesque mask, venomous words flying with renewed fury, as if Ai Chixiang had switched to another persona.

Ruined him? Execution?

The “him” Ai Chixiang spoke of—could it be...

A flash of horror passed through Mo Shu’s eyes, a chilling thought dawning.

Dissociative identity disorder.

This man housed more than one self within his mind.

As the very first racer to successfully integrate the system into his brain, who knew how many times the Vermin family had tortured Ai Chixiang?

“Vortex Kiss,” “Eldritch Copy”—these were the “dual skills” Mo Shu knew of Ai Chixiang.

But before the system’s successful integration, what else had the Vermin family implanted in his mind? Mo Shu could not say.

A system residing within the human brain—a highly complex advanced nervous network—was itself a marvel.

Artificially forcing Ai Chixiang to become a host by medical means defied the usual system’s autonomous choice of host.

Throughout modern medical history, countless horrific human experiments have been conducted; just browsing images online is enough to unsettle one’s soul. Mo Shu could only shudder imagining what Ai Chixiang had endured, what trauma had fragmented and deranged him so utterly.

Mo Shu felt he had found the right path. At the accident scene earlier, he sensed something was off about Ai Chixiang.

First, he spoke of respect; then called him a madman; finally, threatened to utterly defeat him.

It was clear now: Ai Chixiang’s volatile moods and shifting personalities stemmed from a fractured self-awareness.

“Heh heh heh, I know what you’re thinking. You’re right—we share the same body,” Ai Chixiang sneered, seeing through Mo Shu’s thoughts and stating it bluntly.

“I was about to say, that timid, useless fellow back there fits the old Ai Chixiang’s style better. You’re different—who are you?” Mo Shu forced himself to stay calm and asked.

“Me?! Hmph! I’ve become Ai Chixiang now. That old friend of yours—the indecisive, pathetic one who troubled you at GTCC, that fool Hei Jing’s lackey and disciple—I just dealt with him and gave him a new name: ‘Corpse.’” Ai Chixiang laughed again, eerie and unsettling.

“Ha, you two can play inside this shell all you want. I won’t be joining you.” Hearing the sinister laughter, Mo Shu just wanted an excuse to leave.

Coincidentally, an ERC staff member opened the door and stepped into the corridor—a perfect opportunity for Mo Shu to end this absurd encounter.

He cast a careful glance at this strange, newly emerged Ai Chixiang, snorted coldly, and turned away.

Once free, Mo Shu dashed back to his camp, twisted open a faucet, and splashed water on his face to calm his nerves.

He had already been unlucky enough to relapse his old ailment today, and now, late at night, to meet such a dark, eerie madman like Ai Chixiang was almost too much.

Enough was enough. Fortunately, the Monte Carlo race had only the final stage left tomorrow.

If he could claim the championship here, he would take Wang Yining back to China to dispel the bad luck.

Seeing it was still early, Mo Shu gathered the core team members and recounted Ai Chixiang’s split personalities in detail.

Wang Qing shuddered halfway through and dragged her sister Yining off to watch television in another room.

Geng Hua furrowed his brows, deep in thought, perhaps troubled over how to deal with this even more dangerous lunatic.

Wang Yu remained relaxed, cracking sunflower seeds with a click-clack sound, remarking as if watching a thriller unfold.

This was also the first time Mo Shu broke protocol by revealing the system’s secrets to his teammates.

Of course, the system lady had agreed—Ai Chixiang had become an extreme threat to the Divine Racing Team.

A system host who had lost himself and whose soul was devoured could very well turn the racing world upside down.

Since the Vermin family’s identity as the puppet masters was exposed, they had grown even more brazen.

They talked at length, but Mo Shu could not devise a way to counter them, his face etched with frustration.

Wang Yu, still munching seeds, said there was no solution for the Vermin family at present; they should focus on securing tomorrow’s championship first and then plan long-term.

Mo Shu nodded. Winning the championship was something he could manage; as for the rest, he would meet it with optimism for now.