Necromancer

The last Ni Ge was down. Lin An stood behind the body, breathing slightly hard.

[Why didn't you leave one alive? You could've captured that Ni Ge just now. You'd even gotten behind him.]

"I couldn't."

Lin An knew his own limits. He hadn't gotten the idea that he was some badass just because he'd taken down five men without a scratch.

[Yeah, the streamer's still a weakling. He only killed those five because he was cheating, and his aim still sucks. He has to shoot at close range; anything over five meters and he can't hit a thing. And he's even worse in a fistfight. One punch from those Ni Ge guys would probably put him down.]

[Streamer, you're kind of out of shape. You should work on that.]

[Exactly, exactly.]

"I really should work on that, but not right now."

Lin An spoke to them.

"Getting in shape takes time and money. Right now, I've got time, but no money."

"What do you mean, no money? My bro!"

It was Darnell. He rushed out through the rolling shutter and saw Lin An inside the factory, along with all the bodies. First he looked stunned, then he started shouting.

"Whoa, nice work, bro! You've gotta be the best hitman in New York!"

He spread his arms wide, as if he wanted to embrace the whole factory.

"I heard all those gunshots. Old Joe was so scared his legs went weak. He said you were as good as dead, but I knew those idiots were the ones who were done for. I knew you'd be completely fine and kill every last one of them!"

He paced around the factory, gesticulating wildly like a caged gorilla.

Old Joe poked his head out from behind the rolling shutter. Hunched over and pressed close to the wall, he moved like a frightened cat creeping through a minefield.

His gaze lingered on the motionless men on the floor, then on the spent casings.

"Sir."

"Yeah?"

"Y-you're not hurt, are you?"

"No."

Lin An could see Old Joe's unease and timidity. But that was only natural. If he'd been bold, he probably wouldn't have ended up in his current state, nearly starving to death.

A bold Ni Ge who couldn't afford food would surely go find someone and join a gang.

Thinking of that, Lin An pulled a wad of cash from his pocket, took out a few bills—around seventy or eighty dollars—and handed them to Old Joe. It was all money he'd taken from the pockets of the Ni Ge on the floor.

Old Joe froze for a moment, staring at the money in his hand.

"Take it."

"This is..."

"Go recruit five people who don't use drugs. Men or women, doesn't matter. Have them meet here this afternoon to clean up the shell casings and blood. Leave the bodies alone. I'll arrange for someone to take them away later."

Old Joe looked at the bills, hesitated, then took them. His hands were still shaking, and the money rustled in his grip.

"But, sir... no, boss, this place..."

He looked up at the factory, then lowered his head again.

"Can people still live here?"

Lin An looked at him without changing expression. The smile at the corner of his mouth remained, and his eyes were still calm and gentle.

"Everyone who came here was killed by me. Not one of them got away."

Old Joe's breath caught for a second.

"No one nearby called the police. No one heard the gunshots. Even if someone did hear them, nobody on this street would care. As long as we clean this place up, it'll be as if nothing happened.

"This place is still ours. Your basement, my workshop, a shelter for the homeless. Nothing's changed."

Old Joe looked at him. A storm of emotions churned in his cloudy eyes—fear, unease, shock, hesitation. But in the end, they all settled.

He clenched the money tightly in his fist, as if it were a lifeline.

"I understand."

His voice still trembled a little, but it was much steadier than before.

"I'll go to the Church and find five people who don't use drugs. Men or women, it doesn't matter."

"No need to rush. Take your time and choose carefully. It's fine if you can't find all five today. The most important thing is that they're reliable, and that they want to become normal people, just like you."

"Understood."

Old Joe turned and headed for the rolling shutter. When he reached the entrance, he stopped without looking back.

"Boss."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He didn't say what he was thankful for, and Lin An didn't ask. Old Joe went out through the rolling shutter and disappeared into the gray-white daylight.

Darnell had stood to the side without butting in. Once Old Joe had left, he came over and stood beside Lin An.

"He's terrified of you, like a mouse afraid of a cat."

"I know."

"But he's still helping you."

"Because he has nowhere else to go."

Darnell turned to look at Lin An. The latter had both hands in his coat pockets, his expression calm as he regarded the bodies like a pile of junk that needed cleaning up.

"Bro, what you just told Old Joe... 'Everyone who came here was killed by me. Not one of them got away.' You said it like you were talking about how nice the weather was today. Do you realize how scary that is?"

"I know."

"Aren't you worried he'll call the police once he leaves?"

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's more afraid of the police than he is of me."

Darnell froze, then slowly nodded. He pointed at the men on the floor.

"We can't just leave them like this, can we?"

"First, move the bodies together. Put them over here. Hurry up. I still have to go to O'Brien's house this afternoon."

"Okay."

Darnell got to work. He wasn't afraid of corpses—or of Ni Ge who were about to become corpses. He was only afraid of them while they were still alive.

[Americans really are used to hearing gunshots. No one nearby even called the police.]

[Aren't you worried that old Ni Ge will run off?]

[Even if he runs off, the protagonist still comes out ahead. A hundred bucks to find out he's unreliable—that's a great deal.]

With nothing to do, Lin An went up to the second floor.

The hallway was dark. Only a little gray-white light came through the window at the far end. He opened the first door. Empty. The second was empty too. At the third, he paused as he opened the door.

The room was full of junk. The dust showed that someone had moved things around in there before. There was something beneath the pile.

[Get the Ni Ge to help.]

[Looks like the streamer's about to strike it rich.]

"Darnell!!!"

Darnell hurried over and walked into the room.

"What?"

"Move this stuff. There's something hidden underneath."

Darnell put his hands on his hips and glanced at the pile of junk: a few broken tables, a stack of moldy cardboard boxes, several metal pipes, and some trash that was impossible to identify.

The stuff was piled up haphazardly, covered in dust.

"Move it? Do you know how heavy this stuff is? I've still got five bodies to move downstairs, and now you're asking me to move this? Am I your friend or your slave? My mom told me friends help each other, not order each other around. You get what I mean?"

Lin An couldn't be bothered to argue. He pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, a denomination Americans rarely used, and waved it in front of Darnell. The latter immediately broke into a grin, took it, and got to work without another word.

Darnell was very strong. It would have taken two or three people to move a table, but he could grab one leg, lift it, and toss it aside.

He threw the rest of the junk aside in a few quick motions, filling the already filthy room with dust.

Lin An, who liked to keep things clean, hurriedly backed out of the room.

"Bro, was that hundred bucks well spent or what? Look at me. Don't I look like a professional mover?"

Lin An couldn't be bothered to listen. Once Darnell had finished, he went inside. A green, thirty-two-inch suitcase lay on the floor.

Darnell eagerly rushed over and opened it.

The moment the suitcase opened, Lin An leaned in for a look. Delight appeared on his face.

Inside were exactly the weapons Lin An needed most. He immediately crouched down, took everything out, and checked how much stock the suitcase held.

The thirty-two-inch suitcase was huge. Inside were two shotguns with sawed-off fourteen-inch barrels—Remington 870s—and eight Glock 19s. There were ten boxes of nine-millimeter rounds, fifty rounds per box, for a total of five hundred. There were also four boxes of twelve-gauge shells, twenty-five to a box, for a total of a hundred.

[Now that's the good stuff! Upload it to the store right away!!!]

[My wallet is already thirsty.]

[Streamer, you should set these items as non-exchangeable. If you're really going after gang members, you can use these weapons against them.]

[Hey, you in front! Whose side are you on?]

[Come on, if the streamer dies, we won't get to see more of this. The six pistols he picked up earlier are perfect for us to exchange for. They've already been fired, so there's no point in saving them.]

[Streamer, I'll use a 3D printer to print you some little gadgets that can convert semiautomatic pistols into fully automatic ones. That'll give you more firepower.]

Darnell crouched beside the suitcase, his eyes as wide as a pair of billiard balls.

Lin An crouched beside it too. He took a Glock 19 out of the suitcase, removed the magazine, pulled back the slide, and checked that there wasn't a bullet in the chamber.

The magazine was empty, and so was the chamber.

He set the gun down, picked up another, and repeated the same steps. This one was fine too.

After checking them all, Lin An laid his hand on the guns and ammunition. In an instant, they all vanished, suitcase and all.

The Bullet Screen's suggestion was good. Lin An marked the new weapons as non-exchangeable, while setting the six pistols and ammunition he'd just obtained, along with the van, as exchangeable.

After all, the viewers' donations were real. Lin An had to give something back to them.

Once he'd put everything away, Lin An went downstairs. Darnell kept working, and the five still-warm bodies were now lying together.

What should he do?

Lin An thought it over, then walked up, ready to put them temporarily into the Live Stream Store and find somewhere to dispose of them later. He'd done the same with the body at the gas station.

Just as he stepped forward to collect the bodies, a Bullet Screen comment floated past him.

[Streamer, we can attach ourselves to crows and use them as camera feeds. Could we possess these bodies too?]

[Huh?]

[Hey, we could try it.]

[Hurry, hurry! I can't wait.]

Try it?

Lin An thought it over and decided to give it a shot.

He reached out and grabbed a [Let Me Do It] comment, then flicked his hand and sent it flying toward one of the bodies on the ground.

The comment latched onto the head of a Ni Ge's corpse, perfectly steady, but the body didn't react.

A little while later.

[Holy crap, repairing this body costs me more than 2,300 points. That's robbery!]

[Move aside, you don't have enough points. Let me try... Streamer, grab me.]

Lin An immediately grabbed that comment and tossed it over.

Darnell watched Lin An's strange behavior without saying a word. In his mind, the latter was a wizard. Nothing his bro did was strange.

Even so, when Darnell saw the body twitch and slowly get up, he still jumped in fright.

"Oh my God!!!"

Darnell instinctively retreated behind Lin An, grabbed his shoulder, and pointed at the swaying corpse.

"Quick, bro! Get your gun and shoot that live Ni Ge dead so he'll be a dead Ni Ge again! Hurry!"

Lin An looked at the Bullet Screen comment above the corpse's head and immediately understood.

"Don't be scared. He's with me... Uh, I mean, I'm controlling him."

"What the hell!? Bro, you're a necromancer too!"

Lin An ignored Darnell and turned to question the corpse.

"How are you feeling?"

The corpse looked at Lin An and raised a hand to touch his chest. He tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. After trying several times, he gave up, and the Bullet Screen above his head began to refresh.

[I can't talk. This feels awful. Fixing my chest cost me 2,300 points, and it costs another 100 points an hour to keep it going.]

[That's not bad, though. A hundred points lets you spend an hour in the streamer's world. That's only 2,400 points a day.]

[Big spender, could you Venmo me 500 points? I'm just a little short of enough to exchange for a pistol.]

[Aside from not being able to talk and costing 100 points an hour, this body can still move for 12 hours.]

[12 hours? Could it be because he's hungry? Streamer, give him some food to eat.]

Out of habit, Lin An reached inside his coat and pulled out a can of Eight Treasure Porridge, handing it to the viewer whose comment, [Ping Sheng Bu Yin Jiu], was perched above the corpse's head. The latter took it, opened it, and ate. When he finished, the Bullet Screen refreshed.

[Nope. Eating just makes me feel full and gives me more strength, but the countdown hasn't changed. Looks like it's because of the injuries. Here, grab me, streamer. Let's try another body.]

After the comments refreshed, Ping Sheng Bu Yin Jiu lay down, then his comment floated up and asked Lin An to grab it.

[Oh, right. Remember to put the body away. If it's not fresh, the countdown will definitely get shorter.]

Lin An took the advice. He stored the body that had been possessed, then grabbed the comment and tossed it toward the second body.

[Nope. Repairing this body costs 7,100 points. Looks like injuries really do make a difference. Streamer, you'll have to be more careful when you kill people in the future.]

[Man, they're fighting for their lives. If you make the streamer worry about all that, won't he be more likely to get himself killed?]

[Exactly. The streamer should keep fighting the way he does. Don't worry about all that; too many scruples can lead to trouble.]

Lin An watched the discussion for a while, then waved his hand and stored the remaining four bodies. Then he remembered the Ni Ge he'd killed at the abandoned gas station. He'd stabbed that body to death with a dagger, so it should cost fewer points to repair.

Thinking of that, Lin An opened the store, ready to bring it out for the viewers to try.

But once he opened the store, Lin An froze.

"Hey, where's the body I put in the store? There are only five bodies here. Where did the one from the abandoned gas station go?"

[Ah, sorry about that. I redeemed it.]

[233, who redeemed the corpse!]

[Bro, why'd you redeem a corpse? What are you even going to do with it?]

[Wait, wait, wait. How many points did you spend?]

[Eight hundred. I redeemed the corpse to use as a cadaver for teaching. I'm the dean of a medical school.]

[Come on, man. A cadaver like that has no legitimate source. Isn't that illegal?]

[It's fine. I'm the dean, so no one will investigate me. And even if they do, I'm not worried. It's Ni Ge's corpse, not an Asian's.]

In that case, they'd let the matter drop.

Lin An raised his hand and glanced at his wrist.

"Let's go, Darnell. First, we'll head to the basement and leave some food and sleeping bags for Old Joe. Then we'll get something to eat. This afternoon, we'll go to the police officer's house. We'll also need to prepare a few phone cases and some burner phones later. They'll come in handy."

[Streamer, if you need one, I can donate my old phone to you.]

[What about a walkie-talkie? How about that?]

[By the way, streamer, I just took a look. The second floor of this factory is perfect for keeping crows. Remember to have Old Joe feed them. That way, even if the Crips send people to check things out, we can warn you in time.]

[Good idea.]

"Yeah, I'll go do that now."