Ning An's Wild Wish System

Following behind her, Ning An looked at her speechlessly: "We’re all adults now, and they’ve just been released from jail. They’re definitely more aware of how to deal with people than you are."

"That’s true." Zhao Yamei’s panic gradually subsided as she thought about it, realizing it made sense.

Soon, the two of them arrived downstairs, and after a brief pep talk, Zhao Yamei took Ning An upstairs.

Along the way, quite a few people in the neighborhood discreetly watched Zhao Yamei and Ning An.

It wasn’t anything else, but that insane neighbor was indeed too outrageous; he had once plastered Zhao Yamei’s portraits all over the neighborhood.

He even bragged shamelessly that if anyone made him unhappy again, he would make sure that those who upset him would be unhappy too.

Very smoothly, the two arrived at Zhao Yamei’s floor.

"Uh... what’s that smell?"

Just as Ning An stepped out of the elevator, he caught a whiff of a nauseating stench.

The smell was complex, a mix of body odor, foot odor, dust, and various other indistinguishable scents.

Covering his nose and mouth was futile, as the stench was too overpowering.

Despite the rank air, Ning An followed Zhao Yamei as they burst in.

But upon entering, they were met with knocking and a sly chuckle.

Through the peephole, a slim man appeared, clad only in large shorts, his hair disheveled, concealing himself partly with a glove, and bursting into a grotesque laughter.

"Little sister, why didn’t you say hi to your neighbor when you came home? As the saying goes, close neighbors are better than distant relatives, especially when we’re door-to-door."

"Come on out, let me get a good look at you, so we can take care of each other in the future."

It’s not just Zhao Yamei; even as a spectator, Ning An couldn’t help but frown.

Online viewers were seething with rage, yearning to smash him dead.

"I’ll take care of your mom! You’re disgusting, and the police can’t do anything!"

"If he had a legitimate job and a respectable image, perhaps he wouldn’t need the police, as his moral boundaries could restrain him; but now, he’s just a hooligan and rascal. What’s the solution?"

"So damn disgusting! When his mom gave birth to him, why didn’t she stomp him out?"

"Wouldn’t it be great if his mom was a brat, smothering him in the toilet, sparing a major disaster!"

"..."

The burly man with tattooed arms grabbed a kitchen knife from the kitchen, ready to charge out, but was stopped by the sly old man.

"I’m seventy-five, I can take him down even if I have to die in the process; let me handle this first."

Just a few steps in, he was blocked by the Gloomy Younger Brother.

"I have severe mental illness; if I kill him, I won’t go to jail."

Hearing this, Ning An was shocked and adjusted the camera to focus perfectly.

Outside the door, the sly man assumed Zhao Yamei was just hiding again, afraid to come out, and laughed even more sinisterly.

He suddenly pulled down his shorts, then turned sleazily, his gaze hot on the shoe rack by the door, creepily fixating on a pair of Xiaobai shoes, as if something small was becoming larger.

But before his little thing could grow, the Gloomy Younger Brother opened the door and directly grabbed it.

By the way, he also gave it a couple of shakes.

"Hello, I think what you said is very reasonable; close neighbors are better than distant relatives, we should get to know each other better."

The sleazy man was dumbfounded; before his little thing could get big, it shriveled at an even faster pace and was immediately retracted.

He hurriedly pulled up his shorts, looking incredulous and somewhat flusteredly stumbled back towards his home, feet stumbling: "Oh, hell! Where did this psycho come from, dammit!"

The Gloomy Younger Brother carefully wiped his hand with a tissue, then looked up earnestly, saying, "I think your behavior is very uncivilized; in our place, such acts would get you, you know, backdoor treatment."

The sleazy man’s scalp tingled and a chill ran down his spine: "Backdoor your mum and dad, your backdoor’s been opened, you’re the one who got the backdoor treatment!"

The Gloomy Younger Brother remained polite: "I remind you, swearing without involving parents is the basic decorum of a person."

"Screw your mom! Freaking psycho!"

Finally losing it, the sleazy man was in complete chaos, just wanting to retreat home quickly and soothe his rattled nerves.

The Gloomy Younger Brother heard this, shook his head, then turned to the living room, opened up a luggage case, and retrieved a pair of white gloves. Next, he headed to the bathroom and began dismantling the drain pipes.

Effortlessly, he popped open the pipes and used the gloves to rummage inside, soon emerging with a hand full of sticky, dark substance.

Then, he returned to the living room and approached the doorway where the sleazy man hadn’t yet entered, chuckling as he quickly advanced.

Looking at the indescribable filth in one hand, the sleazy man panicked and enraged, attempting to kick: "Damn you! You’re a freak, stay away from me, urgh..."

However, he didn’t land the kick, losing his balance, lurching forward.

Timing was perfect when the sleazy man’s face directly collided with the Gloomy Younger Brother’s hand.

He broke down, his heart shattered, vomiting and desperately trying to struggle free.

Yet, the Gloomy Younger Brother remained very polite, thinking he was too deep in enjoyment; one hand smeared across his face, the other harshly pressed his neck, restricting his movement.

"It’s okay, don’t worry, if this isn’t enough, I’ll whip up some more for you later."

The sleazy man eventually managed to escape, his face entirely covered in the dark muck, shouting furiously despite the nauseating stench assaulting his throat as soon as he opened his mouth, causing further retching.

Amidst his struggles, his door flung open.

The sleazy man indeed had a wife, but she was similarly a female rogue and thug.

Like a rat in the gutter, her mentality twisted, unable to tolerate others’ happiness.

Since moving here, she had taken an instant dislike to Zhao Yamei across the hall.

The reason was straightforward; compared to her gutter rat existence, Zhao Yamei’s appearance, demeanor, and career were all like the majestic Ming Yue.

Jealousy, envy, and resentment consumed her, wishing nothing more than to drag that Ming Yue into the dirt, satisfying her own dark urges.

She didn’t speak up during the man’s earlier antics because she wanted nothing more than for Zhao Yamei to be brought down to her level, or even worse.

She desired for Zhao Yamei to become a common fool, disgraced, and used by everyone!

Therefore, while she saw the sleazy man’s predicament, she finally couldn’t hold back.

"You freak! Get out of here quickly, or I’ll call the police to arrest you!"

Hearing that, the Gloomy Younger Brother turned the filth-smeared hand to face her, exclaiming with delight: "You like my homemade sweet treat too? Hooray!"

Saying that, he turned and walked back to the bathroom, once again coating the gloves in filth.

Afterward, he generously clasped the woman’s face tenderly in his hand, letting her also experience the bliss of being wrapped in happiness.

"Is it enough? If not, I’ll whip up a bit more later; seeing how excited you are, it seems you’ve never had anything good with your husband, really pitiful."

The woman struggled, but lacked the strength to break free.

Not until the sleazy man reacted did he manage to pull her away.

Both stood with humiliating filth smeared on their faces, daring not to speak for fear of tasting more filth.

Frantically rushing back inside, they locked the door; the woman dashed to the bathroom like a madwoman while the man, enduring the stench, reported to the police.

The police arrived promptly, resolving the situation swiftly.

The Gloomy Younger Brother hadn’t hit anyone, nor damaged property, nor insulted anyone.

More importantly, he had documentation to prove severe mental illness!

The certificate even bore the provincial intermediate court’s seal!

With these layers of protection, not even the highest authority could find fault.

"Officer, is this... is this it?"

Watching the police about to depart, the sleazy man couldn’t take it, mentally shattered, he asked.

The officer turned, feigning confusion, asking:

"What else do you expect? He’s got two layers more protection than you."

The Gloomy Younger Brother politely bowed to the officer, then grinned at the sleazy man:

"Practice more if you’re lacking."