Vol. 11 [Desperado]

Fifteen hours later—

Bu Liuxing woke up groggily in a warm bed in the crew lounge.

The attendant had prepared a toothbrush, a towel, and a basin of hot water for him. After he'd washed up, he was told to head to the passenger car and find his travel companions.

A Xing quickly thanked the attendant and learned from him what had happened when he'd suddenly fallen asleep.

Many passengers had collapsed just like A Xing after their missions ended. The attendants carried them back to the lounge and looked after their luggage—

These passengers had pushed their mental strength to the limit in a high-pressure environment. Once they were somewhere safe, their brains suddenly shut down.

At that moment, A Xing quietly took notes.

"The two knightly duels lasted about twenty-eight minutes in total, and definitely no more than thirty-five. My pyroxene was glowing during that time. If it goes on longer, I'll fall asleep. I'll have to be careful next time—if I fall asleep somewhere dangerous, Ming Ge will freak out."

When A Xing returned to the passenger car, he found Jiang Xueming and Teacher Victor leaning by the window in silence, resting with their eyes closed.

He greeted them enthusiastically. "Hey! Ming Ge! I'm back!"

Jiang Xueming nodded without a word and gently patted the seat, inviting A Xing to sit down.

As soon as A Xing sat down, he was about to ask what Teacher Victor's zodiac sign was. But when he saw the stern look on the teacher's face, he decided not to bring it up and skipped the fun.

Now that all three of them were together, Xue Ming and Victor picked up where they'd left off, discussing their destination.

Xue Ming took out his notebook and phone, and asked A Xing to switch his phone to recording mode.

When the two matching phones were set down on the table, Teacher Victor's expression changed for a moment. He looked as though he wanted to ask something.

To clear up the misunderstanding, Xue Ming immediately raised his hand to show off the steel ring on his left ring finger, a testament to his straight-man heart.

"I have an attendant. We get along pretty well."

Victor asked offhandedly, "Is this attendant your fiancée?"

Jiang Xueming shook his head. "It hasn't gotten that far. The station arranged her as a potential match, but it seems neither of us is interested."

"Ming Ge, the recorder's on. You'll have to explain yourself to Brother Seven later. All the investigation records have to be handed over to our attendant," Bu Liuxing called out.

Jiang Xueming scratched his head, looking confused as he wondered what he'd said wrong.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I just consider these rings a symbol of the friendship between an employer and an attendant. But Spirit Elder insisted on making one to fit my ring finger. Honestly. Oh. You."

Bu Liuxing pursed his lips and kept making a ringing-bell gesture, afraid Ming Ge wouldn't get it. He tried hard to mouth the words and communicate with gestures.

"I think Brother Seven's lusting after you! She's a hopeless romantic who falls for looks. If you hurt her feelings in that recording, and clearly say you won't be the one to arrange a big wedding in front of everyone back home, who knows? Next time you ring the bell for Brother Seven to come save you, she might get mad and turn love into hate, then make you arrange that big wedding in front of everyone back home!"

"I~~~~~ don't have any plans to get married for now." Jiang Xueming steered the conversation back around. "Let's drop it. Teacher, can we talk more about the Dead Puppet Agency from last time?"

Victor rested both hands on the table, turning a pen between his fingers as he looked out at the fathomless darkness. It was unlike the bright region beyond Twilight Pass; there was no strange sun here.

"Let's talk."

Jiang Xueming opened his notebook, took out a pencil, and got down to work.

"What was the Dead Puppet Agency before? Do you know anything about it, Teacher?"

"It's a Class-B secret. Only certain VIPs connected to it, the station's senior engineers and researchers, and some armed personnel from the command center are allowed to know. Nobody else can get near that core secret."

"Can you tell us a little? Why aren't we allowed to know?"

"Because you're still too weak, and your minds are full of all kinds of ideas. As for a little information, I've told you before that I asked the BOSS whether the underground world had an area like the boundary between life and death, with half-dead things in it, so I'd have material for my next book. It recommended this place to me. Anything connected to life itself is tempting. If you know too much, you won't be able to handle it."

"Teacher Victor, you said it 'recommended' this place, not that it directly sent you there, right? Does that mean the place doesn't fully belong to the BOSS? Someone has to introduce you?"

"You're as perceptive as a candle in the dark, Jiang Xueming."

"Please answer those questions clearly."

"Yes. I need a letter of introduction from the BOSS to enter the deepest part of the Dead Puppet Agency. It's heavily guarded. I saw at least four barracks in the inner city, all with networked troops. The letter lets me enter the core area and investigate the special organisms there, which exist between life and death."

Victor fell silent for a while, seeming to choose his words carefully, afraid of violating the BOSS's Class-B confidentiality agreement.

"I can't describe what this organism looks like, and I can't tell you what it is. But it has many, many subordinate entities, and they affect us humans. In short, until your bodies and minds have 'emerged from the cocoon,' you'd better not try exploring further into the unknown."

Jiang Xueming nodded and continued asking questions.

"How many times have you been there?"

"I can't say. I can only tell you it wasn't my first time."

"What essential gear and equipment will you bring?"

"Light sources are important, as is the ability to fight in the dark. Sometimes you can't trust your eyes. You have to rely on your nose and ears to make out a Spirit Calamity."

"So, aside from a WALKMAN, White Lady coffee, a club, and pyroxene, you won't bring anything else?"

"That's right. The armed employees will issue me a weapon. I can shoot, but if I have to fight monsters, small-arms ammunition probably won't do much. Even .50 AE rounds, meant for hunting large game, can barely inflict any meaningful damage. Heavy weapons like main battle tanks or self-propelled artillery can't be deployed in such extreme, rugged terrain. By the time you've set up the gun, those cunning beasts will have already fled deeper into the underground world. I can only rely on my club and pyroxene, along with my will, to fight them."

"Why not wear a spirit garment?"

"Sixteen years ago, the station didn't issue spirit garments. Back then, many passengers died on investigation missions. Repeatedly entering the same area, they were exposed to the stimuli of relics and spirit objects until they went mad. Newcomers had very high rates of illness and death, so the station launched a procurement program to wrap ordinary passengers in a protective swaddle. But for VIPs like us, a spirit garment is just a restraint. Have you ever seen an adult walking around every day in a toddler's split-crotch pants?"

"Victor, I suspect you're making fun of me."

"Jiang Xueming, I didn't mean it that way. It was just a metaphor. I like your flamboyant style. It's full of life."

Jiang Xueming studied Teacher Victor's eyes. They were so intense that he didn't seem to be lying.

The spirit garment's manual said it could protect passengers from injuries caused by psychic stress responses, but it also weakened their Inspiration.

Perhaps, for VIPs in unfamiliar, high-pressure, high-risk environments, keen Inspiration was more important than anything else. After all, any sudden disaster in such a place could be fatal. They couldn't afford to let their Inspiration grow dull.

There was something else, too. Teacher Victor had just said the spirit garment procurement program began sixteen years ago, but the author looked very young. He had no wrinkles around his eyes, and even when he raised his brows, there were no forehead lines. He had no gray hair or dark circles, and couldn't have been more than twenty-five.

Had this author started writing books for money at twelve or thirteen, then gone adventuring in the underground world?

Impossible, right?

Even the boldest chuunibyou teenager wouldn't go that far, would they?

Though Jiang Xueming was terribly curious, he still pushed his curiosity aside. Asking about someone's personal affairs in the underground world was extremely rude and disrespectful—because hunters usually did the same thing.

"Teacher, we're about to get off. Let me sum things up. Tell me if I've missed anything." Jiang Xueming propped up his notebook and turned it toward Victor. "We're going to a place shrouded in darkness. It used to be a key facility for the station, but something happened there, and it was downgraded and abbreviated to an unknown area."

Victor nodded. "That's right."

Jiang Xueming continued, "From your description, it sounds like a city. Why was it built here? What was its main function? You can't tell us those things directly because of the confidentiality agreement. But the area you're in isn't far from the one we're going to investigate, is it?"

Victor nodded. "That's right. If you run into trouble, I might be able to help—assuming I'm not in trouble myself."

Jiang Xueming continued, "It's a place between life and death. That's all we know for now."

"Your safety officer will have to brief you on the rest of the investigation," Victor said with a sigh of relief, free at last from the pressure of Jiang Xueming's interrogation. Honestly, he felt as if he were facing a reader demanding the next chapter. Under the pressure of the confidentiality agreement, he could neither spoil anything nor disappoint the reader. "After all, I don't know which area, which street, or which building you're going to. The station handles confidentiality very well."

"I think it's to prevent Outlaw Hunters from randomly attacking different batches of passengers getting off at the same station. This point-to-point, one-on-one management system is very secure, but it takes a lot of manpower. Thank you for the lesson, Teacher. I have no more questions." Jiang Xueming was just about to put away his notebook when that intense curiosity bubbled up again.

He simply couldn't imagine twelve-year-old Victor writing stories while finding the time to venture deep into the underground world and experience such a perilous life.

If Victor had always written by seeking out "authentic" experiences, putting what he saw and heard into his work, then it would have been impossible for a twelve-year-old Victor to do that.

So Jiang Xueming asked anyway.

"Teacher Victor, I have a very, very, very immature thought. It might offend you."

Victor gave him a sidelong look, anger in his face. "Don't call me 'you' so formally."

Jiang Xueming immediately corrected himself. "I have a question that might offend you. I'd like to ask your advice."

Victor didn't seem to mind. "Go ahead and try to offend me."

"How old are you?" Jiang Xueming regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. The instant Victor heard the question, a complicated expression appeared on his face.

Just how complicated was it?

On that youthful face, the corners of his mouth twitched unnaturally. His emerald eyes turned dim, losing all their earlier sparkle.

He didn't look angry so much as wistful and disappointed, as if mourning the merciless passage of time.

Jiang Xueming quickly tried to reassure him. "It's fine if you don't want to answer."

"Did you start wondering about my real age after hearing me talk about all that?" Victor waved his hand and avoided Jiang Xueming's eyes. He simply gazed into the endless darkness outside the window. Gradually, his eyes brightened again, reflecting the cold, glaring lights of the passenger car. "When I mentioned the spirit garment procurement sixteen years ago, that's what you were thinking?"

"Yes." Jiang Xueming didn't intend to lie. He told the truth. "You look very young, Teacher."

"Because I'm an immortal anomaly." Victor turned his gaze back to the two kids in front of him and stared at them. "I'm an Outlaw, just as the word literally means—I should have died a long, long time ago."

A Xing drew a deep breath. "Teacher, do you mean you ate Tang Monk's Flesh? So you're immortal?"

"You could put it that way." Victor shrugged, unconcerned, and leaned back in his chair. Sharing this little secret seemed to bring him some relief.

"Then how old are you, Teacher?" Jiang Xueming's questions only multiplied. "Can I see your passenger ID?"

"No!" Victor suddenly snapped at Jiang Xueming. A moment later, he returned to his usual indifferent manner and explained casually, "Honestly, I'm a little angry. I don't want to say more. Let's talk about something light! Kids, something light. Would you like to hear my story?"

"Wow!" A Xing eagerly leaned toward the table, looking like an inquisitive little kid.

Jiang Xueming packed everything away, ready to listen.

The story began.

"In 1810, a noble family from the old world came into a great deal of money. Four years after the fall of the Holy Roman Empire, they went to a small place and bought some land to make a living. Austria wasn't called Austria yet. The couple had a big, chubby boy."

"That boy was named David Victor."

"He learned to ride, shoot arrows, and hunt with a gun. In the end, he fell in love with writing. When he was twenty-four, he went to prison, just like you, Bu Liuxing, and for exactly the same reason: he wanted to experience life."

"He wanted to write a more authentic story, so he struck a deal with the warden. He would experience the hardships of prison firsthand and share them with his fellow inmates."

"But the warden cheated him in secret, turning the boy's fake crime into a real one. Six months later, he was beheaded in public. The warden planned to use this trick to extort a ransom from the boy's family."

"The boy, David, was furious—not because the warden had swindled money from his family, but because the other criminals didn't have the chance to pay their way out of a death sentence. If David used that privilege, he wouldn't be experiencing real prison life."

"And that was exactly what happened. While he was held hostage in prison, he received all kinds of special treatment from the guards. His clothes and food were specially provided. Every guard in the prison was afraid the hostage would suffer in his cell."

"During his time in prison, he suffered terribly. Poor, vicious criminals banded together and, out of the guards' earshot, beat this privileged rich boy whenever they pleased."

"The more the warden treasured his hostage, the more the criminals wanted to tear him to pieces."

"Fortunately, he survived. Not only that, he could fight pretty well—"

"David shared his meals with his fellow inmates, even though they'd beaten him. He wanted to eat the same food as them so he could write about it."

"David shared his clothes with his fellow inmates, even though they'd beaten him. He wanted to wear the same clothes as them so he could write about it."

"David was willing to be flogged alongside the scoundrels who tried to escape, because he could write about that."

"There were also inmates who couldn't read or write. David would write books for them, sending their letters back to their hometowns."

"Even David himself didn't know when he'd become an idol to the criminals, their leader."

"Perhaps it was his empathy and compassion, along with the homesickness in those letters that moved everyone. But David never wanted to be anyone's idol. He wanted to speak with his friends as equals, instead of always hearing them address him with a frightened, hesitant 'sir.'"

"In the mouths of his friends, David Victor became the great author Victor."

"None of them even knew what this man had done to end up in prison, waiting to have his head chopped off."

"They didn't want David to die, so they chopped off the warden's head first. Then they asked the prison's most successful old-timer to find someone to chop off the head of the old judge who had issued the sentence."

"Now David and his friends had piled crime upon crime. With his sentence nearly up, Lord Victor built Vienna a magnificent, gilded theater so his son could live."

"To celebrate the occasion, David and all the local criminals were granted the chance to walk free."

"The Victor family went deep into debt, going from billionaires to tens of millions in debt. David had to leave his home and flee to America to work for the Pacific Railroad Company. He'd write and work to repay his parents' debts, just as you, Jiang Xueming, once had to repay your parents' debts. On that journey, David met a Chinese man and an Englishman. That's another story, and it would take a very, very long time to tell."

The story ended.

The train slowed—

The city drew closer.

In the darkness, they could make out the basic electrical infrastructure of satellite towns and the railway signals.

They'd been abandoned for a very, very long time. No one lived there anymore.

The city's high walls, dams, gates, and towers formed a dense skyline. Its underground river and internal water-circulation system were highly advanced. The place looked like a fortress built for survival after a thermonuclear war.

Far, far away, the city lights reflected off a vast cliff face.

The station was getting closer. They could already see the red flag in the guide's hand and hear the station master's whistle.

The two kids, Jiang Xueming and Bu Liuxing, were still immersed in Mr. Victor's story.

They didn't know whether the VIP's tale was true. Maybe it was just a beautiful fairy tale the author had made up.

Still, they had a few questions—and they weren't ready to part.

Jiang Xueming was practical. He focused on what mattered.

"Teacher Victor, if what you said is true, you must be two hundred years old. How have you lived so long?"

Victor dodged the question. "You asked how old I am. Why I've lived so long is another story. I charge for my stories. Everyone's own life, their own story, is often the hardest to write—and we're running out of time."

Jiang Xueming wanted to press further. "What do you know about the BOSS? It said its name was Ao Hen. I—"

David Victor said nothing. He only looked at Xue Ming, gazing at him with boundless tenderness, as if to say, "Please, my curious little darling. I have to go to work."

The teacher took out his pen and wrote his phone number in Jiang Xueming's notebook. Then he said nothing more. He held up six fingers and gently waggled them beside his ear, meaning, "Let's keep in touch."

As the announcer's sweet voice rang out,

the three of them got off the train with their bags and walked along the platform, heading farther away. None of them spoke.

At the crowded security checkpoint, six merciless turnstile lanes split them apart.

From far away—

Bu Liuxing pressed his lips together, eyes full of tears. He remembered that he hadn't properly thanked the teacher, so he shouted until his voice broke.

"Teacher! Teacher! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

A Xing didn't know what to say. He just rummaged through his mind for something to fill the silence, trying to make the fleeting encounter on this journey last forever by taking pictures with his phone.

Victor turned around, still moving nimbly, and smiled at the camera before shouting back, "The final duel might last a long time! It could last a lifetime—the two of you, I hope we keep running into each other on the train! Whoever doesn't show up loses!"

"Fine! I won't lose!" A Xing shouted. "Teacher! Don't worry! If I ever have a kid, I won't let him write books! If he dares to, I'll break his legs! No matter how much money the family has, you can't waste it like that!"

"Hahahahahaha!" Victor doubled over laughing. "Hahahahaha! Hahahaha! Hahahahahaha!"

A Xing kept wiping away his tears, but one hand wasn't enough with his bag on his back. Xue Ming helped him wipe the other eye.

"Teacher! What's your zodiac sign, anyway?!"

Victor didn't answer. He didn't say goodbye, either.

He vanished in a flash.

Jiang Xueming thought it over carefully, making quiet notes in his journal.

"Teacher Victor gave us so many precious gifts."

"When we first met, he didn't seem like someone easy to deal with."

"But the longer we spent together, the more it struck me that, in just twenty short hours, we'd formed a friendship that was hard to let go of."

"If what he said was true, then two hundred years ago, he was one of the Three Musketeers. He and his two companions roamed the American West, laying railroad tracks across the desert's red-rock badlands. Maybe the things he didn't want to mention, the secret of his immortality, had something to do with the two friends he talked about. In the end, just like these divided turnstile lanes—"

"—David Victor and his two companions said goodbye, not knowing whether they'd ever meet again."

The two of them stopped in front of the turnstiles.

Bu Liuxing said, "Actually, there was something in the teacher's story that confused me."

Jiang Xueming said, "Me too. I think we're wondering about the same thing."

Bu Liuxing said, "We never gave Mr. David our journal."

Jiang Xueming said, "So how did he know you wanted to go to prison, A Xing?"

Bu Liuxing said, "And how did the teacher know you had to repay your parents' debts, Xue Ming?"

The more they thought about it, the more unsettling it seemed.

—So they stopped thinking about it.