Curtain Call
Don't force yourself to write when you can't.
[--Lu Xun]
[Crime and Punishment]
The No-Brain and Unhappy strolled through the train's wide corridor.
--We've come to the end of the story, and we've come to the beginning of the story.
The white marble doors still stand there, adorned with the three English characters [JOE] in obsidian.
Jiang Xueming felt uneasy and pondered the matter repeatedly.
This term does not refer solely to the individual Wen Bucai.
It is Vincent Vinc[e]nt.
Victor Vict[o]r.
And there's Jack [J]ack.
These three isolated letters, appearing only once, together form the complete name of the anonymous person.
To open this seemingly impenetrable door to the heart, you must extract the remaining isolated letters and rearrange them.
Bu Liuxing saw that no one was around.
He then used all his brute force to try and push aside Wen Bucai's VIP carriage.
Even when A Xing was panting heavily from exhaustion, it remained motionless.
Jiang Xueming for a long time before finally reciting it softly.
"Joe Rank."
What's a good translation for this?
In modern parlance, would it be called the J. O. E. trio ranking competition?
Wrong--
--One hundred and sixty years ago, there should have been another way of saying it, if we treated Rank as a noun.
It's called [The Line of Handsome Young Men].
The meteor understood and excitedly exclaimed, "Then it has to be me!"
The door's voice-activated sensor started working.
The complex sounds of gears engaging and springs winding could be heard emanating from the heavy doors.
Immediately following this was the click of the horizontal steel beam lock resetting and releasing the door.
Jiang Xueming was filled with curiosity--
--I consulted with Professor Victor privately.
According to Professor Wen Bucai Victor a Kunming Fish from the Cambrian period that fought against viruses by adapting to its natural environment, making it an immortal creature.
From synapsids to modern-day Homo sapiens, Wen Bucai, must have experienced countless life-or-death crises and must have learned many survival skills.
Thinking of this, Jiang Xueming led A Xing through the door.
Upon entering the VIP room, the two of them froze in surprise.
This compartment was very clean.
Specifically, it has no bed, no toilet, and no dining table.
It's not like a place for VIPs to rest; there's not even enough room for a single chair.
It is a museum with only a few simple letters, hundreds of pictures and photographs, and strange objects in various display cases, including fossils and antiques, worthless industrial scrap iron, and ancient Egypt hieroglyphic tomb tablets worth a fortune.
For a moment, Jiang Xueming was dazzled by what he saw.
The pitch-black floor and the pure white ceiling lights left the two young men momentarily stunned.
The room is as neat and simple as a chessboard.
The symmetrical layout on both sides, along with the small display case and instruction leaflets in the center, can give the obsessive-compulsive brain an extremely satisfying massage.
Whether it's the interior design and layout, or the seemingly unattainable yet readily accessible items in the storage cabinets.
They all evoke a chilling sense of cruelty.
In the very center of the narrow corridor, the first exhibit is a fossil of the Kunming Fish.
Xue Ming opened the envelope and, together with Liuxing, examined the obsidian hard card inside.
Hello, welcome to my cemetery.
You can call me Wen Bucai).
Or Vincent?
Or Wen Luo?
Or perhaps another name?
An unknown person?
None of that matters. I have many, many names, so many...
What you are seeing now is the fact that the biologists at the Research Station told me.
This is my earliest, earliest form, a fish.
It has twenty-five muscle segments and comes from Yunnan, China.
Yes! I'm from Yunnan!
Then, these sarcomeres have a double [V] structure, with one end facing forward and the other end facing backward.
I've met so many people through this letter.
The two friends put down the cards and continued forward.
The murals on the walls on both sides, or the fossils in the display cases, and the models of Cambrian-era creatures, seem to be showcasing Wen Bucai's numerous scars and remarkable achievements in nature.
Until the late Eocene --
--A new card envelope appeared next to the model of the Basilosaurus.
The content is simple and concise, consisting of only a few words.
Stop here! Take another look!
At that moment, I had a very large brain.
Its structure is simple, so it's hard to remember much.
These neural synapses still influence me today, enabling me to quickly locate my prey.
Okay! You can continue now. If you find the museum tour a bit boring...
--We can jump directly to 1860.
In a large display case dating back twelve million years.
Fossils of Forest Ape have been discovered.
Further ahead--
--These are stone tools from three million years ago.
The written descriptions also began to increase and become more complex.
Most of them were science popularization columns. During this period, Wen Bucai had no complete memory, only a vague sense of survival.
Until the Sahelanthropus tchadensis began to emerge from the caves.
Until the naked ape put on clothes.
Until human civilization burst forth with its most brilliant flame.
Until the year 30 AD.
A crucifix carved from a leg bone lies in the middle of the avenue.
There were also three holy nails, silver cutlery used in communion, and a glass made of a crystal skull to hold the blood wine.
Meteor: "This is going to be really funny!"
Jiang Xueming remained silent, simply picking up the card and examining it closely.
From twenty-five sarcomeres to thirty-three vertebrae.
My life will forever remain before I turn thirty-three. It may change with my quality of life, but it will not exceed the bone age range of twenty-five to thirty-three.
Aside from the carbon isotopes in my bones showing my real age, I don't even know who I am.
The historian at the Research Station told me--
--This bone is carved with my image.
I said he wasn't me.
They insist that he is me.
Well, there's nothing I can do about it.
But what does this prove?
My brain can only remember things from a little over a hundred years ago at most; everything else will be sculpted into completely different forms by the chisel of time.
Keep going forward, keep going forward.
Arriving in Fuzhou in 1857, one finds an iron plow and a scimitar lying in a brocade box.
There's more text on the cards now.
I don't remember how I woke up, I only remember the old people in the village association and my cousin telling me.
I joined the Taiping Army under the pretext of worshipping God, and followed my fellow villagers in the uprising.
But it failed. When I woke up, I was missing a leg and remembered nothing. So I used crutches and fled to America with my brothers.
I committed many sins, including introducing fellow villagers to the Pacific Railroad Company to build the railroad.
Three years later, my legs actually grew back.
I learned to speak English and went to the Dadu with the foreman and team leader to pick up girls and play with guns.
I rarely get to see my fellow villagers. When I left Yorktown on the East Coast to visit relatives in Colorado, my work unit only gave me a series of yellow pages contracts.
Jiang Xueming and Bu Liuxing remained silent.
They saw the blood-stained railway tracks inside the lockers.
Whip and straw hat.
Guns and methamphetamine.
A deck of playing cards.
Perfume Bottle, mercury fulminate, gunpowder, firearms.
At that moment, I thought I had eaten human flesh to have the ability to grow my severed leg back.
I hope to end my sinful life on this railway.
--Someone pulled me off the railway tracks.
His name is Jack Martin.
As they moved forward, the two saw more and more portraits and antiquities.
A pair of large leather boots, and a vicious crystal scorpion.
The police officer's pentagram badge.
Revolvers manufactured by Remington.
The text on the obsidian card is getting longer and longer.
Jack was a United Kingdom nobleman.
My father was a lord who made a name for himself in gun manufacturing during the Industrial Revolution.
This son is good-for-nothing; he'll just stay on the manor and wait to die.
--It was only his yearning for adventure that led him to this wild and fertile land.
At that moment, my inner fear stirred up a butterfly effect, making me realize that this seemingly carefree Anglo-Saxon was not as simple as I thought.
Jack's mental state was very strange. He was easily startled and angry, prone to extreme joy and sorrow, unable to control his emotions, and easily seduced by all kinds of delicious meat and the beauty of prostitutes.
I could keenly sense that this guy only had half a soul.
I am very grateful to him for saving my life.
So he decided not to waste this good fortune and to seek revenge on the Perfume Bottle Gang, which was under the Pacific Railroad Company.
Keep going.
These experiences connect to Professor Victor's story.
Jiang Xueming paid special attention and noticed something.
"Teacher Victor possesses Soul Power."
Bu Liuxing noticed it too.
"Mr. Wen Bucai also possessed Soul Power more than a hundred years ago."
Jiang Xueming: "Back then, the two of them didn't have pyroxene or clubs."
Bu Liuxing: "Yes, it's just relying on fear, relying on fear—this most primal and purest emotion—that made the butterfly in my heart take flight."
These two immortal beings came to the underground world only after they had completed their transformation with their soul power. Their transformation path was completely different from the one arranged by the BOSS for the passengers. They were purely wild Morpho butterflies.
The subsequent display cases were nothing more than a series of fights and killings.
We destroyed the commercial street in Sloth Town, and that's how I met Victor —it was fate, I suppose.
Jack was a coward; he didn't dare to go with me to cause trouble for the Perfume Bottle, but he also hoped to gain some of the title of hero.
He secretly followed me, and in the big hotel on the shopping street, he noticed David Victor's name on the guest list.
To read the latest chapter of Victor's novel, this guy completely forgot about me, let down his guard, and pounded on Victor's door in the enemy's lair, a place teeming with danger and predators.
I care deeply about Jack's safety; he's my savior.
When I arrived at the scene and saw Jack looking disoriented, drooling over his manuscript and seemingly incoherent, I started beating Victor.
Victor is missing sixteen teeth, and Jack stops me.
--I only just realized that this wasn't the cannibalistic demon with supernatural powers from the Perfume Bottle Gang.
We became friends.
Jiang Xueming only glanced at Bu Liuxing.
Bu Liuxing pursed his lips, feeling a little guilty, but immediately said, "I definitely won't!"
We destroyed the grand circus in the human zoo.
The headmaster's wicked tricks turned his servants into monsters and Jack into a donkey.
But these strange and bizarre things can all be smashed with fists and bullets.
When Victor saw people of color, as well as Asians and chimpanzees, kept in a cage, fed soybean oil and poison from a young age, tortured into deformities, and put on display as freaks for people to enjoy, all of this enraged the mild-mannered writer to the point of madness.
He, who never lay a hand on women, chopped off the limbs of four beautiful singers from the circus, these cannibalistic witches who had been turned into spider monsters by the park director, and blasted them to pieces with gunshots.
But that half of Jack's soul terrified me.
--When these beautiful and strange things disappeared, my savior actually felt regret and pity, felt lost and disappointed, and even wanted to be a confused and ignorant donkey for a while longer, to experience that strange life of working on all fours and pulling a millstone.
I want to find Jack's lost soul. Otherwise, what kind of cold-blooded and vicious person would both lament and applaud the human tragedy created by these cannibalistic demons?
Jiang Xueming and Bu Liuxing arrived at the end of the story of the three friends.
It has a black and red curtain--
--Behind the curtain, there was a deck of cards.
They are the King of Spades, the Queen of Hearts, the Jack of Diamonds, and the Ace of Clubs.
There are two Joker cards left.
The contrast between red and black creates a neat and natural look.
The story has come to an end--
--We met with the Big Leader.
The Big Leader is Jack, Jack is the Big Leader.
When I was having a meal at Peking University Hall, Mr. Lu Xun told me that I shouldn't force myself to write when I couldn't write anything.
At this moment, I don't know how to clearly and completely recount this story. No matter how blurry the memory from more than a hundred years ago is, at the moment of life and death, it is like a bullet hole, still remaining in my mind.
I think Victor could express it much more clearly.
To be precise --
--Jack Martin already possessed Soul Power.
His special ability is to split his own soul in two.
He transformed his weak, incompetent, kind, lecherous, gluttonous, gambling, and indecisive soul into Jack Martin.
He left behind a brave, cruel, cunning, cold-blooded, self-disciplined, decisive, and ruthless soul, becoming the Big Leader of the Perfume Bottle Gang.
This Big Leader wanted to find the remains of a saint, search for the blood of the saint and the Eucharist, and use the westward expansion and railway construction as a pretext to excavate the legendary feathered serpent ruins left by the Mayan civilization.
My fellow countrymen, who had been kind to me for years, have now become my blood enemies with the Big Leader.
My companion saved my life, and now Jack is about to shoot another version of himself.
The Big Leader told us that we, without prior arrangement, were all performing cannibalistic rituals.
Similar to the initiation ceremony of the Perfume Bottle Gang, these bandits had to strictly abide by the government's decree to cut off scalps to make boots and swallow a piece of human flesh in order to become a member of the Perfume Bottle Gang.
Like the two jokers in a deck of cards.
We made four rounds of bets with the Big Leader.
--In the end, the battle was decided, and he was sent to hell.
If the story has already ended.
All sins have been atoned for.
But I'm not resigned to this.
--Little Jack, who has lost half his soul, won't live much longer.
Even though he was so happy and exhilarated, cheering for Victor's new work and shouting "You're so talented!" with every page turn.
But both Victor and I could feel that Jack's spiritual pressure was rapidly dissipating.
Within a day or two, the poor young man grew a lot of white hair, and he gradually became senile, like a child who would never grow up.
He told us about his grand estate in his homeland and expressed his hope to return with us.
He makes really delicious burgers with pickles, tender beef sirloin, and tomato slices; we definitely have to try them.
He couldn't wait to get back to the east coast and take a boat home.
But he couldn't even ride a horse anymore, and his body wouldn't obey him. He fell off several times, only to climb back on. It wasn't until we finished dealing with the remaining bandits in town and returned to the port on the east coast with a battered Jack that we finally got back.
Jack finally realized that he probably wouldn't live much longer.
He told us--
--Let's swear an oath of blood and drink a farewell cup.
If the story ends here...
Then the audience will definitely ask for refunds, right?
But I didn't expect it either--
--The communion ritual where they cut their fingers and exchanged blood would turn my two most important friends into immortal monsters.
After finishing their drink, Victor and Jack went their separate ways.
I returned to that railway track and talked to myself for a very long time.
He eventually convinced himself to stop contemplating suicide.
Because Victor would never write stories that cause pain to loved ones and joy to enemies, and Jack would never listen to them.
My sins are impossible to atone for, so I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay every cry for help.
In 1868, after digging for gold for a long time and raising enough money for my journey, I went to the United Kingdom, intending to travel all the way to Austria to find Victor.
At this moment, I have no idea about their physical condition.
To learn about European customs and traditions, I worked at a shoe store near Downing Street, where I met a local woman, and we married and had children.
I was very happy during that time—the warmth of my family gradually healed the wounds in my heart.
I searched for Victor frantically for twenty years.
When my family heard our story, they thought I was joking and never believed it.
But fate played a trick on me, not too big, not too small.
My wife and daughter both contracted the flu, accompanied by fever and inflammation, which would be considered a very common illness by today's standards. But back then, it could have been fatal.
I've spent a lot of money, but it still won't cure me.
While performing bloodletting therapy with my wife and daughter, I accidentally cut my finger.
After they received Holy Communion and drank the Holy Blood, my wife, who had been in her forties, returned to her twenties, becoming healthy, radiant, and glowing.
This terrified me.
After my wife and daughter regained their senses, they kept staring at me.
They wanted more blood; they seemed to believe that drinking human blood would grant them eternal youth.
It started as a polite request that I add some blood to my daily aperitif.
Later, he carried a small knife with him and, regardless of the situation, would cut flesh and bleed me.
I went to find a church and a priest, hoping to exorcise the demons from my wife and daughters.
But they can be in the sunlight and speak normally.
No matter how you look at it, she is far more noble and elegant than me, a mentally unstable young Easterner, and knows religious etiquette.
The priest didn't believe my nonsense.
Until one day, my wife and daughter were talking to their best friends about my blood and their beauty.
With just a few words, these elderly women, whose faces had aged like yesterday's flowers, immediately used reverse psychology to urge my wife and daughters to give away the blood they had saved.
Among the people at this table were seventeen elderly women from different families in London, with different backgrounds and professions.
The next day, the whole city was in an uproar.
People say there's a black-haired devil in this city. Anyone who comes into contact with his blood will become an immortal vampire.
At first, I didn't understand what the rumors were saying.
I only found out later when my wife and daughter tried to chain me up.
These women all felt that such precious blood must be carefully guarded and not allowed to be touched by others.
That Christmas--
--I had originally planned to visit Conan Doyle in South Sea City.
I'd like to get in touch with Victor through this author; perhaps they're pen pals.
Two cold iron chains locked me in the attic.
I want to break free, my beloved wife, my lovely daughter, the most precious treasure of my long life.
They raised their knives, either to my heart or to their own.
I had no choice but to submit to this ritual of imprisonment and bloodletting, which continued until the summer of 1888.
A serial killer kicked down my door.
He killed my two babies and burned them to ashes.
He rescued me and killed and burned all the others who had drunk the holy blood.
--That's Jack.
At that time, I felt like all the blood in my body had almost drained away, and I was struggling on the verge of death.
My mind had long since crossed the Gate of Death, but Jack brought me back to life.
He wrote me a letter home, pretending it was written by my wife to deceive me, fearing I might try to commit suicide again.
When I woke up, the cortex of my brain that had died from lack of oxygen and blood had regenerated, and I had lost all my memories. Only this letter from home was with me.
I searched frantically for a wife and daughter who didn't even exist as mentioned in the letters.
Doctors all say I'm not normal; I have severe Alzheimer's disease.
Until I followed the advice of the sorcerer and arrived at Sky Station, following the London Tower.
I'm searching for Universal Elixir, hoping it might cure the illness in my brain.
At that time--
I only remember a few very, very important things, and a few vague words.
My name must contain a [V], which is the shape of the myosalp of the Kunming Fish.
There have been two [V] in my life.
It is the forward letter of [V]ICTOR.
There are also the reversed letters of J[A]CK.
When I interact with people underground, I always praise them for their talent. I don't want my burning heart to cool down; I want to always be ready to laugh heartily when I reunite with my companions.
When I talk about the past with people and they introduce themselves, I can't remember their names, so I just use the vague name [JOE] to gloss over it.
When I heard people crying for help, I couldn't control my legs and had to act immediately. I thought that my friends must be like me, and if we kept venturing into dangerous places, we would surely meet again one day.
The story should have ended here.
This exhibition is also coming to a close.
[Bright Stars]
Jiang Xueming and Bu Liuxing reached the end of the train journey.
The train's rear door --
--A drawing of a black cat licking its paws.
It was the BOSS--
--It is Ming De.
Its narrow eyes were squinting, as if it was preparing to come up with some mischievous surprise; it was full of bad ideas, yet had a cute but brainless appearance.
There was one last card on the car door.
A cloth bag containing a lunchbox from Peking University's cafeteria was hanging on the doorknob.
One hundred and ten years ago, I told the boss that I wanted to go back to my homeland to fight. The invaders came to my hometown, but I never expected that the fighting would last for decades.
These past few decades tell a different story.
I've lost many memories, and I've gained many more.
But I've never forgotten the BOSS--
It accepted me and talked to me about the starry sky of the underground world.
In the vast universe, there are many things that are much older than me.
I was fortunate enough to become human and gain a burning heart.
Every atom in the body originated from an ancient cosmic explosion or the pulse energy of a supernova, becoming cosmic dust millions of light-years away.
Those I've met and become acquainted with were once stars in the sky.
How lucky I am to have crossed millions of light-years to meet you.
Everything in my mind!
Will I forget?
How could I possibly forget!
In a place extremely far away, giants knelt on the plaza and avenue.
Bright red bubbles rose from the Lava Lake, only to burst into fireworks a second later.
The train sped forward, gradually entering the bridge leading to Nine Realms Station. The steel rail switch resembled a giant tree, bringing together all the roads in one place.
Within the dark paint of the hollow ceiling, there are ten thousand bright stars.
Jiang Xueming returned the card to the exhibition hall.
Meteor sat with me at a small table at the back of the car; there were three chairs in total.
He looked down and examined the engraved marks on the table, as well as the rough character for "early".
The two stopped talking and looked up.
Then you can see the scenery rushing away, the strange rocks along the way, and the fiery red lava flows.
They took off all the protective charms--
--I want to use my mortal body and mortal Wen Bucai to experience the feelings I had when I looked up at the starry sky.
The corundum iron ring swayed gently on the table, nestled closely against the Jinbao lock symbolizing Fusou Wannian.
They just sat there, without moving.
Act 1: [Halcyon Days]
Act 2: [One Must Fall]
Act 3: [Castles in the Air]
Act 4: [Dragons]
Act 5: [FireBorn]
Encore ①·[Fantasy]
Encore ②·[Unbreakable]
Part 1 [Out Of The Fog]
Part ② [Stand My Ground]
Encore③Part①[If The Story Is Over]
From the Lingyun Band's album <NEMESIS>
Encore ① Part ① [Enigma]
Encore ① Part ② [Hunter]
From the Lingyun Band's album <Enigma: Intermission 2>
Act 6: [SHINE IN THE DARK]
Your blood is like my blood, your heart is like my heart.
From the Lingyun Band's album <ETERNAL>
Encore ③·[Forever]
From the Lingyun Band album <Episode>
Encore ③ Part ② [Coming Home]
From the Lingyun Band's album <Visions>
Original Author: Fox Man
[Abyss Special Train]
[Lingyun·Stratovarius]
[Everything in my mind]
Will I forget?
How could I possibly forget!
[To be continued]