Carnivores

There are four more crumpled pieces of paper inside the trophy.

Victor unveiled them one by one.

First, there's the story that Jiang Xueming cares about most—

--The biographical information about David Victor is also the most important historical record on the passenger's identification document.

Victor took the White Lady coffee from Jiang Xueming and took a sip.

In that brief moment of breathing, the two little ones tensed up, a vague sense of Inspiration stirring within them—something was about to happen!

The sacred, ghostly phantom reappeared, lunging towards the two of them at a speed too fast for the naked eye to perceive.

Xue Ming instinctively wanted to raise his hands to cover his face in defense, but he only saw the heart-shaped tail pierce through his arms like a sharp arrow and headed straight for his face!

He felt a burning, stinging pain rooted in his soul, tormenting his Inspiration madly. The tail was like a sharp pen, writing one new character after another on him.

But he wasn't afraid at all. Instead, he felt a strange tranquility.

"Where to begin? Where to begin this story?" Teacher Victor frowned slightly, as if considering a starting point when creating a story.

The scorching air rushed in, and flames raged everywhere, their parched tongues engulfing everything in the carriage.

Everything began to fall apart, like shattered glass, burning to ashes in the shimmering golden-red flames.

Jiang Xueming looked at Bu Liuxing--

--Ah A Xing also looked astonished and speechless, as if he had been under the spell of the world's most wonderful illusion, his eyes following the collapsing and shattering illusions in the flames.

This flaming illusion tore through the dark subway tracks, crushing every corner of the carriages to reveal another world.

Following in the footsteps of Teacher Victor --

In the far, far distance, a Phantom Sun rises from the sky, illuminating the red rock desert, while two railway tracks traverse the Grand Canyon.

It was forged and shaped by the sweat and blood of Chinese craftsmen.

Steam and steel gave it form, sweat and gold gave it soul.

The raging wind, like a horseman wielding a long whip, blew thick clouds northeastward, leaving a layer of dust, like gauze or mist, on the Gobi Desert. Gradually, during the dry season between summer and autumn, it turned into a deadly sandstorm.

"The story begins here—" Victor led the two students into this illusion. "In 1840, pulled together by the forces of fate, three young people came together."

Jiang Xueming followed in Teacher Victor's footsteps, covering his face with his hands to shield himself from the wind. The swirling dust of the world almost blinded him.

What he saw before him only fueled his growing doubts.

--Is this really an illusion? Is this the teacher's true skill?

Are my senses, my five senses, influenced by Professor Victor's superpowers, truly able to see, hear, and touch all of this?

--Back to 1840? Back to the Red Rock Heights beside the Grand Canyon? Back to these two railroad tracks?

Bu Liuxing was so surprised that he couldn't speak. He could feel his big leather boots stepping on the soft, loose gravel and on the hot sleepers.

The moment the dust settled, the entire sky and earth lit up.

Victor led the way, pointing to the people on the railway tracks in the distance.

"Just ahead, there's a Chinese man preparing to commit suicide by lying on the tracks. His name is Wen Bucai. He works for the San Francisco Sam Wo Society, speaks English, and his English name is Vincent."

Jiang Xueming immediately followed. The three of them stopped beside the railway tracks and saw a gaunt, skeletal Asian man lying on his side on the tracks.

The man's head lay across the steel rail, his eyes resolute and determined, showing only a desire to die.

Bu Liuxing: "Teacher! Is he your friend?"

Victor: "He's my most important friend."

Bu Liuxing: "Why did he have to die?"

--The train is coming. Black smoke billows from the coal stove, propelling the giant beast's iron wheels toward this place.

The rumbling metallic groan and the piercing, ear-piercing whistle seemed to be tolling a death knell for this [Outlaw] on the tracks.

The strong wind whipped at the Chinese laborer's clothes.

--Countless yellow pages contracts flew out of the inner pocket, along with a chamber of commerce badge.

These things answered Bu Liuxing's question.

Victor casually grabbed one of the yellow pages contracts and showed it to the two students.

"My good friend Wen Bucai came to San Francisco with human traffickers and was hired by the Pacific Railroad Company to act as a translator between the two countries, introducing more Chinese workers to the West to pan for gold and build railways to make a fortune. But—things weren't as rosy as he imagined."

In that instant, Teacher Victor roared, his immense anger erupting from his heart.

"His brothers and sisters who set off with him, reached the shore with him, and risked their lives together to build the railway have all become blood-stained indentures. On every sleeper lies the soul of his fellow villagers, brothers and sisters."

Unveiling this long-buried history, these countless yellowed pages of contracts are like a scar on Wen Bucai's chest—

Look at him, struggling like a fish thirsting for survival in a dried-up riverbed. He wants to reach out and grab those fluttering, light pieces of paper, to let those scars fill the gaping hole in his chest.

A Xing was so engrossed in reading that he wanted to reach for the pages of the illusion, hoping to help the stranger in this dream world. But he couldn't touch anything; this was, in itself, a story from a long, long time ago, in David Victor's memory.

"Someone came to rescue him? Right? Teacher? You came to rescue him, didn't you?" A Xing licked his lips, seeing the North American gray wolf crouching in the grass, ready to pounce at any moment, and the crows circling overhead.

They are also waiting—waiting for the food on the rails to die completely, waiting for the fact that the top predators on Earth are all dead.

Only after confirming this fact will these scavengers dare to risk their lives to come up and feast.

"Someone's coming." Jiang Xueming looked into the distance; a fast horse was galloping towards the railway. "It's a Caucasian."

Bang--

The sudden gunshot startled the crows away.

The jackals in the grass crouched lower and hid deeper.

A smile appeared on Mr. Victor's face. "That's another of my friends—his name is Jack Martin."

The spurs on the leather boots clanged against the rails with a clear, metallic sound.

The leather of the loincloth was covered in dust and foal droppings, attracting horseflies and mosquitoes from time to time.

With his thick knuckles and Thumb pressing against the cylinder, he removed a spent cartridge and replaced it with a new copper-plated bullet. He wore a police badge with a five-pointed star on his chest.

A redneck cowboy, carrying a water bottle and a gun, leaned on his knees and carefully observed the Chinese laborers on the railway tracks.

The image freezes here, completely still.

Victor introduced the young sheriff to his two apprentices, "He is the son of a gun-making lord from the Industrial Revolution era in England. He rendered great service to the British Royal Family and is wealthy and powerful. He was unwilling to just live a life of idleness and idleness, so he came to the wild west to punish evil and uphold justice."

It was like a videotape fast-forwarding—gunfire and horses, with tumbleweeds swirling in the wind, flashed by across the red Sauvage.

Victor continued.

"These two friends got into a lot of trouble. In the West, where bandits and bullies roamed, it was a paradise for [carnivores]. They were going to deal with the henchmen of the Pacific Railroad Company and more than two hundred armed cannibals in a small town."

Following the ever-changing, dreamlike landscape, the three quickly arrived at this brightly lit, bustling town.

Victor introduced the town to the night.

"This gang is called [Perfume Bottle], and its history can be traced back to the mercury fulminate gun 'Perfume Bottle' of the same name. To join it, one must undergo a ritual involving cannibalism. Only by passing this ritual can one become a member of the Perfume Bottle Gang and turn into a cannibal."

Towers and high platforms stood on both sides, and next to the dark main gate, there were cigarette butts emitting a bright red glow, as well as guns in the hands of patrolling soldiers.

On the other side was a brightly lit commercial street, the air thick with the smell of methamphetamine and tobacco, and the aroma of grilled meat and various sausages almost made A Xing's soul linger there.

The hostesses, dressed in flamboyant attire, solicit customers in front of the archways, casinos, taverns, and hotels in the backstreets and alleys.

Victor talked as he walked.

"I was sketching in a hotel in this town when I met these two friends. We got into a fight, had a drink together, and then set off together to write the most exciting and powerful story of my life."

At this point, Teacher Victor dispelled the illusion.

--The flames reignited, burning through the entire world and transforming it back into the VIP carriage.

Jiang Xueming was still immersed in that divine power, unable to extricate himself; those memories felt like they had actually happened.

--In the illusion, the Chinese laborer's unwilling roar and the cowboy's frivolous and flirtatious demeanor when he appeared were all so real.

However, Master Victor was unwilling to delve any further, nor did he want his two students to see the young and naive David from their memories.

"What happened next, teacher? Why didn't you let us continue reading? Why wasn't you in the story of the Three Musketeers?" Bu Liuxing's eyes were filled with intense curiosity. He also wanted to know how they made friends, how the fights were fought, and how they drank.

Victor coughed softly, "I got beaten black and blue by one of those bastards, so it's really inconvenient for me to show you this stuff."

Jiang Xueming then asked, "And then what happened? Did you succeed?"

"Just like all those clichéd hero adventure stories," Victor said with a grin, "We showed off our skills, slaughtered everyone in our path, and burned down the town's human circus."

"A human circus?" Bu Liuxing didn't quite understand the meaning of this term.

"It's a very, very terrifying entertainment venue. They capture people of different skin colors from all over the world, cut off their limbs or poison them to create deformities, and lock them up in zoos for people to enjoy." Victor seemed to recall some bad memories while discussing these things.

Upon hearing the word "play with," Jiang Xueming flew into a rage.

Victor continued, "We dueled with the Perfume Bottle Gang's Big Leader time and time again, but this beast in human skin was a seasoned gambler who constantly cheated. His men revered him as the Great Leader, praising his mental fortitude and willpower—but in the end, he still died."

The teacher unfolded the paper completely, preparing to put it in the wastebasket.

"We raised our glasses in celebration, cut our fingers, and drank the blood wine according to the Chinese custom of swearing an oath of brotherhood—finally parting ways at the ferry crossing on the east coast. Inspector Jack went back to the United Kingdom, while I went to more distant places to gather writing material, and I, Wen Bucai..."

Bu Liuxing asked excitedly, "This Chinese laborer avenged his compatriots! He must be very happy, right?"

"We helped many villagers, and later these villagers sent me an international email—they said that Wen Bucai returned to the railway and lay down on it." Victor recounted the story's ending calmly. "I don't understand why he did that; perhaps it was to atone for his sins."

Jiang Xueming was very surprised. "Is he dead?"

Victor sat back by the car window, gazing at the endless, dark abyss.

"He disappeared, and I never saw him again. Jack and I followed the railway for a very, very long time, but we never found his body. If it weren't for the fact that I fought with him when we first met and he knocked out several of my teeth, I would have thought he was a ghost, a lifeless person, like a walking corpse."

"Teacher, you used to tell us that you were like a [[Outlaw]]." Back in reality, Jiang Xueming pressed on relentlessly, "But everyone in the Dead Puppet Agency City is locked up by Rune, but you're different."

Xue Ming was still very curious and still didn't understand where Victor's eternal youthful power came from.

Victor covered his lips with one hand, signaling to Xue Ming, this curious little one, to curb her curiosity and stop asking questions.

Then, the VIP unveiled the next crumpled piece of paper.

"Why did you happen to run into me on your way back? The reason is simple: my two silly apprentices, I wanted to try my luck like you. I stayed at the Dead Puppet Agency Station for four days, hoping to find you—and finally I did, which made me ecstatic."

Bu Liuxing felt a mix of emotions and didn't know what to say.

This teacher has truly helped them so much. The questions she sets are getting harder and harder. Her enthusiasm for teaching and her hope and joy in seeing her students grow up quickly are absolutely genuine.

Victor just wanted to see the two little ones slowly get better—he asked for nothing more.

The teacher once lost a very precious friend, although A Xing could only glimpse that little bit, a tiny bit of indirect detail, from the story.

Thinking about it carefully, David and Sheriff Jack finally reached the final ferry crossing with their partners who had gone through thick and thin together, drinking, fighting, and playing with guns, but they never expected it to be their last meeting.

Xue Ming bowed deeply.

"Thank you, teacher. I don't think I should have asked these questions. After all, you once said that your own life is the hardest story to write—I really don't know how to thank you for sharing these things with the two of us."

Uncover the next crumpled piece of paper.

Victor smiled and pointed out the right path for the slow learners.

"If you want to make money, to earn sapphire coins, you can try your luck with the Redstone-dominated merchant guilds and schools. They are also ruthless and vicious [carnivores], expressing their emotions simply and directly. They are people who clearly distinguish between love and hate, and they don't beat around the bush. However, they are different from the cannibals of two hundred years ago—they like the food of the underworld and they like the Chinese cultural concept of 'food and sex are human nature.' Jiang Xueming, I remember you are a chef, right? You can use this skill to make money—go find the BOSS and get a pass for District 18. Get off at Mimir Hot Spring Market. If you encounter trouble, just shout loudly, 'I am David Victor's student,' and someone will come to help you."

Bu Liuxing pursed her lips and said, "Thank you, teacher! Thank you!"

After saying that, the big boy went up and gave Viktor a bear hug—but this time Victor didn't refuse.

It's like two flames colliding.

When Victor embraces the shooting star, he can recall many, many things.

His best friend, Sheriff Jack, is also a crybaby; his eyes can't hide anything.

His good friend, Mr. Wen Bucai, also had obsidian-like cold eyes, just like Jiang Xueming.

Jiang Xueming cared a lot about it.

There was one last crumpled piece of paper left in the glass.

It was Mr. Victor who added the "wrong answer." What exactly was written on that piece of paper?

"Teacher, may I look at the last question? It's both a question and an answer, and I really want to know."

"We can only choose the path our hearts dictate—my apprentices, this is the rope I use to bind the readers. No serialized story can have a clear ending, otherwise the readers will be 'satisfied,' and these 'carnivores' will leave contentedly, never to return." Victor raised his eyebrows, his expression grim. "If we meet again, my two foolish apprentices, if you can find me again in this dark underground, I will give you this answer. You must survive! I will also strive to survive!"

"Mm!" Bu Liuxing released the teacher and nodded vigorously.

Jiang Xueming nodded in agreement.

"I need to get back to work," Victor urged the two little ones to leave quickly.

Once the two spirited young men had walked away, Victor closed the door.

He chewed on his pen and swept all the scraps of paper on the table into the wastebasket.

Then open the last paper ball.

"In 1840, the mysterious leader of the Perfume Bottle Gang recruited countless workers under the guise of helping the Pacific Railroad Company build railroads."

"This leader, whose mental strength is exceptionally powerful, used the pretext of road construction to secretly excavate ancient ruins, spending enormous amounts of money and resources in an attempt to find the blood of a sage from Eastern legends to create an elixir of immortality."

"Wen Bucai, Jack Martin, and I—the three of us shattered his ambitions and destroyed his cannibalistic gang."

"I'm afraid this leader never imagined that the reason for his failure was simply because of the more than thirty lives he had taken, and simply because he angered an ordinary Chinese laborer from the Eastern world."

"Even in death, he didn't understand why wealth and glory couldn't buy our hearts. He couldn't comprehend why we would wage life-or-death battles with him time and time again for the thirty-odd [worthless] lives he spoke of. He never regretted it, nor did he want to understand."

"Jack and I drank Wen Bucai's blood, and at first we didn't feel anything was wrong. It wasn't until I changed publishers two or three times, and in my insane jealousy, outlived Conan Doyle, outlived Tolstoy, and even outlived Hemingway —that I realized I was so young, and had never grown old."

"Perhaps Wen Bucai is the divine being the leader has been searching for all along, whose blood can be used to refine elixirs of immortality—no wonder I was beaten to a pulp by this monster."

Teacher Victor sighed deeply.

I felt silently fortunate.

Fortunately, Jiang Xueming did not choose that note.

I'm glad that the draft I hastily wrote was never seen by anyone.

"My two foolish apprentices, may everything along this journey, like runes, become a blessing that protects you."