Falling Star

The story begins with the gunsmith's funeral.

That morning, 9527 changed into mourning clothes and kept vigil at the bar with her best friend Teacher San San (3301).

She was really struggling to hold it in. Her husband was about to get a new skin, but she had to pretend to be a grieving widow, and she couldn't squeeze out a few tears.

However, Teacher San San Shan, who was comforting Bai Qingqing, didn't think so. The girl had just had her wedding and didn't know the inside story; even Liu Xing hadn't told his wife the truth, creating a very strange situation.

Teacher San San a few days ago, Shan Shan was a bride in a wedding dress, getting married almost at the same time as her aunt (Bloodhound). Now, the aunt and niece have both changed back into suits, and they didn't even have time for a homecoming banquet. The wolf mother's blood relatives gathered together, becoming the nameless man's closest brothers and sisters.

"Qingqing," Teacher San San called out Xiao Qi's nickname, which was also a term of endearment between the sisters, "Don't be like this, I'm really worried about you."

9527 was completely oblivious to her own feelings. After news of her husband's death spread, she pretended to be grieving and even reread the tragic literature she had read in her youth. She spent her days searching for angst online, afraid that her guests would notice something was wrong.

Now there's only one last step left. Once the funeral is over, she'll be free and happy, no longer having to live with that resentful, bitter face.

"I'm fine, I'm really fine."

Teacher San San didn't believe her. "The more you say you're fine, the more worried I get. It's like I'm your husband, are you trying to pull a tug-of-war with me? I love using this trick on A Xing! Every time he makes me angry, I say I'm fine, I'm fine. The more a woman says she's fine, the more trouble she's in!"

"I'm really fine!" Having lived with Xue Ming for nearly nine 9527 ten years, and with the support of her Steel Heart, 9527 gradually became more down-to-earth and simple, no longer spouting strange things. "When I say I'm fine, I really am fine, nothing more."

At this moment, Teacher San San was overcome with emotion by the scene before her and inexplicably began to shed tears.

"--I'm scared, Qingqing, I'm really scared."

This half-wolf girl isn't young either; she's the same age as Xiao Qi, and they're both already thirty.

She put her arm around Xiao Qi's shoulder and started talking to herself.

"We've come this far together, and I've always been scared, especially when you gave birth. I was so worried."

She opened her mouth wide, seemingly crying even harder.

"How could you have given birth to four? Won't something bad happen to you?"

"After seeing that your whole family is safe and sound, I felt really good, that couldn't be better."

"In the beginning, you and the gunsmith were chatting at my husband's house. I didn't quite understand why someone as lively as you would choose a block of wood. Was he good at handling things? Could he make you happy? Was he good enough for you?"

"You're always waiting, waiting for him to ring the bell. I'm scared. The gunsmith's missions are always fraught with danger. If one day you're gone, who will I talk to? I..."

3301 rubbed its nose against Xiao Qi's face; this was a habit of the lapis lazuli half-wolf, used to confirm its partner's pheromones.

Her tears also flowed down Xiao Qi's face, and she continued to talk incessantly, pouring out her heart.

"I really envy you two. You were able to naturally fall in love and come together. Seeing you happy makes me happy too."

"But how could he just leave like that? That bastard!"

"I'll go to the ancestral shrine and beg him, I beg him, please don't take your heart away with him, okay? Qingqing, I beg him."

At this moment, 9527 seemed to be taking care of a child. She hugged her best friend, gently patted 3301's back, covered the half-wolf girl's hair, and stroked the coarse hair.

"Alright, alright, stop crying, stop crying. Tomorrow, I'll go look for a few potential stepfathers for the kids."

3301: "Huh?"

9527 was a little embarrassed. "Uh, in a few days?"

3301: "Huh?"

9527: "One month! Is one month enough?"

"You're not joking, are you?" 330 looked at her with suspicion. "Now I have reason to suspect that you've wanted to kill this civil servant husband for a long time. You're the most venomous woman ever!"

"Hahahahaha!" Even through the black veil, the "widow's" wild laughter could still be heard.

The dozen or so guests present were all quite embarrassed.

Sensing that something was amiss, Xiao Qi finally calmed down a bit.

"Well, I just think so."

She straightened her expression, seemingly infected by 3301's emotions.

"He's always been this kind of person; he would never want me to cry in front of his memorial altar. If he could leave behind a spirit, he certainly wouldn't want to see us, his closest relatives."

Xiao Qi suddenly broke down at this point, seemingly entering a pre-set scenario, because such "what ifs" and "hypotheses" had become commonplace in her life and had happened countless times.

Every time the gunsmith and the War King donned their armor and went into battle, she would think carefully about whether this would be the last time she saw Xue Ming, even if it was as her attendant fighting side by side. There were just too many life-and-death crises that the two of them would have to face.

"He definitely doesn't want me to cry. He definitely doesn't want me to have a sour face, with several children, as if the sky has fallen, as if..."

Xiao Qi couldn't continue speaking; she started to choke up and couldn't control her emotions.

"I can't bear to part with him, I like him so much."

He said I look good when I smile, but it's so corny... that person.

"Do you think I look good when I smile? Do you think I don't know? My laughter either sounds like I'm wiping windows or like Donald Duck."

"Just thinking about it makes my heart ache, like a knife is being stabbed and twisted inside."

Instead, 3301 helped Bai Ziqing up, who panicked and cried out, "I won't say anymore, I won't say anymore, it's my fault, it's my fault!"

After helping the matriarch downstairs, Robert Tang Ning finished tidying up the second floor of the club and returned to the mortuary to greet the guests.

--This disciple is already quite mature. Although he doesn't have much psychic talent, under the gunsmith's guidance, he can stand on his own and is the head of the Nameless Senate.

He knew his teacher was not dead, but seeing the gunsmith's mourning hall at this moment also stirred up some emotions within him.

From now on, there will be no more teachers to guide him; he will have to walk his own path. After all this ceremony, Jiang Xueming was practically dead.

The teacher's social identity died, the bond with students suddenly ceased, all interpersonal relationships were severed, and the established authority, like the divine body of a statue, vanished into thin air.

This is a devastating blow to a person, especially a man.

Having spent so much time in the anonymous office, Tang Ning knew how tempting a seat in the Senate was, and how sweet the taste of power could be.

It's a trait etched into the genes of Homo sapiens even when they were still in the stage of naked apes: monkeys want to become the monkey king, and men want to stand out, realize their personal value, and become famous.

When Gunsmith initially gave the club's office to Tang Ning, he was flattered. It was like a thunderbolt; such great power, and the teacher just gave it up without hesitation, as if it were a joke.

The nameless Senate, serving as a mouthpiece for Ming De, was like a window to the heavens. For Tang Ning, it was an extremely destructive tool; if used improperly, it would shatter him to pieces.

The teacher believed in his abilities, believed he could handle these matters well, and believed he could wield this sword effectively.

Now, even the gunsmith master has lost his last shred of identity.

--In recent years, Tang Ning has read many Chinese classics. To use the philosophical reference books in the Arcane Library, his teacher is like a legendary immortal to him, who seems to have truly gone through a transformation, ascended to heaven, and retired from the bustling city. He came from the masses and returned to the masses.

As the guests took turns paying their respects to the fallen heroes, a long string of Kongming lanterns rose from the nameless bar street.

Tang Ning asked his fellow student Hasben to prepare seats for Galahad's students, as there were simply too many people. The line stretched out from the club, towards the House of the Rising Sun of Fenxing, then to the PVC Hanging Bridge and Guangyuan Road. Looking down from the observatory, there were also many people attending the funeral in front of the Houwangting gate in the men's and women's sections.

Among them were passengers and ordinary people. The number of people in the building leading from the bar street to the Council of Five Kings could be counted. Representatives of the mourners from various warbands, people from various schools of thought, and leaders of various senators took time out of their busy schedules to come. More than 300 comrades from all over the world gathered here. The number of people who were not in the bar street or the Council of Five Kings was countless. They all came to witness the moment when a star was extinguished.

At 9:40 a. m., before the funeral began, Tang Ning arrived at the electronic tombstone in the mourning hall and stood beside a virtual reality projection image.

--That was the gunsmith in full gear, complete with Flash Butterfly Armor and carrying bag, MOLLE equipment and spare magazines, and the blue steel stamp still on his helmet. Beside him was a lifelike lapis lazuli dog, with Little Orange accompanying him, carrying anti-armor weapons.

Behind the dark tombstone was the coffin, and inside the coffin, to put it bluntly, was ashes stuffed in by Ming De himself, filled with goat milk powder.

Little Robert Tang Ning Jr. first bowed to the tombstone, then turned around and bowed respectfully to the guests.

He clutched the microphone by his collar, feeling his mouth dry and his mind racing with thoughts.

"Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend our beloved teacher's funeral."

"My name is Robert Tang Ning. I work in an anonymous office. I don't know much about the friends my mentor has made around the world, and I have nothing to say about them. My mentor has never liked me talking nonsense. In my world, he always has a frown and a serious expression."

"If I utter a few words, he'll correct me and tell me how to think and act. Only when the work is finished will he start to praise and acknowledge me."

"Excuse me."

Tang Ning covered her mouth and remained silent for a while.

"I'm not a talkative person, and neither is the Nameless One. We just follow the gunsmith master's instructions, always listening and always doing things, rarely speaking."

"It's like a fight, a wrestling match."

"He would also say, 'Keep your mouth shut until you take down your opponent. Even if your opponent is completely down, don't speak. That will only make you consume more oxygen, your muscles will start to relax, and your fighting spirit will slowly disappear.'"

"That's just the kind of person he is; it's hard for me to describe him, it's very difficult for me."

Tang Ning waved his hand and stepped off the stage, then hurriedly returned to it, like an awkward child who only then realized he had lost his composure.

"Distinguished guests, please come up on stage in the order of your registration. You can go and see the gunsmith one last time, say whatever you want—whether you hate him or like him, it's all fine. After this, we will no longer have him."

The second person to take the stage was Jason Megan, who came up with a spirit.

Wendy Mills followed Jason to the side of the gunsmith's virtual projection.

"That guy's finally dead," Jason said with a grin. "Did you guys see that brat just now? He looked like he was about to cry!"

A chaotic commotion erupted from the audience, with boos, laughter, and angry soldiers giving Jason the middle finger.

"I know! I know it's impolite to try to be clever in a situation like this. I understand! Oh! Oh oh oh! I'll remember you! The guy who made that lewd gesture at me!" Jason waved his fist a few times. "Let's fight later! Just you and me!"

Then, the comedian began to unleash his artistic talents.

"As everyone knows, I am a Blue Stone People. He came to my side during the most confusing and difficult time of my life. This guy was arrogant and rude, and forcibly pried open the door to my heart."

"We're comrades-in-arms, and we get along pretty well. Every time I go searching for clues, I always end up smelling like poop. What can I do? I'm just unlucky. This little helper handed me his toothbrush and asked me for some feedback—I can only say he's a good person."

"What pains me most is seeing the gunsmith's wife's tears. I've also lost a loved one, the most important person in my life. I understand that feeling."

Jason tilted his head back, his hands hanging limply, looking as if he had given up on life.

Goodbye, my brother! Goodbye! Goodbye!

"Amigo! After going through so much trouble, I finally met you. I won't cry!"

Goodbye, my leader!

"I've always admired my teacher," Daniel said somewhat shyly to the guests. "He always criticized me, and I accepted his criticism. It's become a habit. Criticism always offends people, makes them feel attacked, and can dampen my fighting spirit."

"His teaching style is like a fight; one side always has to lose."

"Until one day, my teacher told me that he hoped I could win."

"When I first went to Galahad to study..."

This is a student, an ordinary student.

"I've only ever heard of the gunsmith; I've seen him on TV and in online news."

"When I saw him in person, I couldn't believe it. He seemed like a very ordinary person, but with a beard, he looked like a homeless man."

"He never has time to travel between more than a dozen classes."

"I thought knightly combat was an art class, that's what I thought at the time. The teacher didn't seem very dedicated, considering how busy he was."

"But he did call out my name, and I was stunned."

"How does he remember so many people?"

"To be honest, I feel very guilty."

This is a soldier in a battle group, a centurion.

"I didn't help in either the recapture of Heracles or the battle for Beach County, yet I still received this medal and escaped with my life—this fills my conscience with unease."

"I remember what he looked like because we were once hiding in an armored vehicle together. His helmet cracked open, and blood was flowing from it. Was I injured at that time? I don't know."

"The gunsmith shielded me and saved me for the first time. Later, during the battle in the highlands of Beachy County, I was still not satisfied and wanted to repay this kindness and show off. In the end, I almost lost my life."

"It feels so good to be able to come home alive, and it feels so good to have fought alongside him."

"He is an artist. This is my area of expertise, and I can tell you that with certainty."

This is an Arcane Library worker, a data observer specializing in sextants, and also a psychologist.

"I have never seen such a peculiar personality. It is related to his upbringing. Many powerful external forces have given him a set of hard armor. These traits are extremely destructive and highly aggressive."

"But the gunsmith we know isn't like that. After giving him the initial test, I was captivated by his personality profile, but unfortunately, there wasn't a second chance."

"We have lost a mentor and friend, but his memes have already taken root in many people."

"He has a short but powerful catchphrase that I really like--"

"--Fight back."

"The United Nations is very grateful to Mr. Jiang Xueming for his outstanding contributions to the underground world."

This is a representative of the Philosopher Foundation and also a representative of the United Nations Security Council at the Abyssal Railway.

"The WHO and the An Li Hui have been unable to find an effective solution to the disaster caused by the Vita Imprint, a massive humanitarian catastrophe that has lasted for a century since World War I. Before that, there was an even darker, more brutal and barbaric world."

"We have provided advisors to passengers in the underground world, including guidance from the Royal Air Service, comprehensive training in modern weaponry and information warfare, but with little success, and for various reasons, it may have even fostered terrorist regional armed groups."

"We are living in an era of stagnation that is difficult to overcome: economic and technological stagnation, stagnation of humanistic care, stagnation of civilization—we can hardly soar into the brilliant sky, so we can only make demands on the earth."

"Ten years ago, war once again became a dark cloud hanging over humanity, and the An Li Hui reaffirmed the Philosopher Foundation's vision that this place was a sanctuary for human civilization."

"Among the brilliant stars of Homo sapiens' history, Mr. Jiang Xueming should also have a place. For the 400 million inhabitants of the underground world, and for all mankind, I am willing to apply for this Bell Peace Prize in the name of the An Li Hui."

"Stop! What Bell Peace Prize?" Ming De climbed the tombstone and chased the speaker off. "Be tough! Call him Little Nobel! And he'll get a gunsmith's medal someday!"

The BOSS drove away the people from the surface world and then talked to the guests about the funeral.

"I won't bother with pleasantries; there are a few things to take care of before the meal begins."

"I have no fondness for the United Nations because the 'Covenant' forbids my soldiers from possessing weapons of mass destruction. We can only deal with monsters with light infantry units. It was in this era that the gunsmith's achievements were made."

"He's gone, just like that, he's left this world. I'm heartbroken—"

"--In the vast world, I have interacted with many Homo sapiens, many heroes, and many scoundrels."

"At the beginning, I remember this kid telling me about his original intention. He just felt that there were so many unfair things in the world, and that some people's children were sold as human flesh, and he was one of them."

"He felt that things shouldn't be like this; so many people were taking, but very few were being compensated. He thought this was wrong."

"It has nothing to do with how you thank him or express your gratitude. He's just that kind of taciturn and straightforward person. He believes in doing what he thinks is right, and that evil must be punished and good must be rewarded."

"Things seem to be getting better now; he has completed his mission. Like a celestial being who has come to earth for a brief visit and then returned to heaven."

From 10 a. m. to 10 p. m.

The funeral was finally over, and the solemn atmosphere remained in the mourning hall.

In the club's second-floor office, several unscrupulous relatives were gloating and laughing uncontrollably.

Jason Megan, seeing the gunsmiths' students crying, mercilessly mocked them from an insider's perspective. Meanwhile, 9527, as the matriarch, was slapping her thighs and stamping her feet in ecstatic joy, dressed in mourning clothes.

Meteor and Tang Ning didn't know what to say, so they just kept eating their pizza, preparing to listen to how the next guest would express their true feelings.

The group of people having fun felt a thrill of doing bad things behind the scenes. Jiang Xueming was about to go home, and this huge contrast made them feel like they were watching a dark comedy.

Think about it carefully. Imagine you return to your hometown two weeks later and suddenly find your fellow villagers deeply grieving. Then, your name appears on the tombstone at the funeral, and everyone is making up stories about it. Although it's inappropriate to exploit other people's emotions, you'll still have a wicked smile on your face.

At that very moment--

Jiang Xueming knocked on the office door.

"Hello, I'm the new psychologist."

He was wearing a white suit, his height had increased to 181 centimeters, his fingers had become thin and long, and he had lost a lot of weight.

He wore black-rimmed square glasses, had a shaved head with hair as stiff as a hedgehog, and his cheeks were sunken, indicating malnutrition.

"Mr. Wood Plark instructed me to provide psychological counseling for Ms. Bai Ziqing three times a week."

He held the medical record in his arms; his shoulders were still as broad as before, and his frame hadn't grown any bigger.

Are you free now?

For a moment, the brothers fell silent. They pursed their lips, crouched down, and slipped past Xue Ming, sneaking away.

9527 removed her veil, still somewhat incredulous, and stared into Xue Ming's eyes.

"Are you my husband?"

Jiang Xueming: "Ms. Bai Ziqing, what are you saying? Wake up. I am your psychological counselor. This is my medical license. Just call me Xiao Zhang."

"Hehehehehe." 9527 was itching to join in. "Role-playing included? Hehehehehehe!"

"I'll say it again." Xue Ming hadn't finished speaking.

9527 had already rushed forward and embraced her husband.

"--Do you know how I lost weight, doctor?"

Xue Ming opened his arms, not daring to touch his wife. "This isn't my area of expertise; you should ask a nutritionist."

Finally, on 9527, she could lift her head and rest her chin on her husband's chest.

"No, no, no, no, no! No! When I hug you, my heart races and my blood pressure rises, my body starts burning fat! I recognize you! I can't be wrong! I need to replenish my nutrients!"

Just then, the office door was suddenly forced open.

The guys outside the door watched this scene awkwardly; they had all been eavesdropping.

"I can explain!" Jason Megan said immediately. "Listen! Let me explain!"

Meteor: "Let him explain!"

Tang Ning: "Yes! Listen to his explanation!"

Jason: "I'm thinking, there are so many people imitating gunsmiths these days! What if you're not the real deal?"

Wen Bucai: "Yes, yes!"

Victor: "My student, this is also part of the material gathering."

Xue Ming pulled out a gun from under his desk and fired seventeen bullets at Jason's muscular half-wolf body, each shot avoiding vital organs and causing only minor flesh wounds.

The group carried the chef's bloodied body downstairs, Jason nodding in affirmation while vomiting blood.

"--Yes, it's him. It's definitely him."