Big brother

Ji Tan looked Xie Zhi up and down, taking in an outfit so painfully trendy it could give you rheumatism. "What's with you?"

"When in Rome." Xie Zhi spread his hands, revealing the design on his black hoodie-a round-headed hammer pieced together from red plaid fabric. A matching plaid shirt was bunched around his waist, loosely tied beneath the hoodie, and over it he wore a thin, wide-sleeved fluorescent color-shifting jacket.

The outfit certainly suited the western district's style. He looked like a local at first glance. Paired with that flashy motorcycle, it made Xie Zhi look more than ten years younger and more than ten times less reliable.

Ji Tan simply couldn't reconcile the boy racer before him with the staid, dependable boss he remembered. Something was wrong. Twelve out of ten levels of wrong. He instinctively backed away two steps. "Whoever you are, get out of my boss!"

The other motorcycle taxi drivers nearby saw this and immediately started touting for business. "Young man, ride with me! Mine's big and roomy. Don't get on that youngster's boy-racer bike. He'll get the urge to lean into a turn and grind your knees flat!"

An unlicensed taxi driver wearing only a blue-purple undershirt, his tattoo-covered arms exposed, slapped his hood and shouted, "Shared ride! Shared ride to Fist Plaza! Leaving as soon as we've got three!"

"It really is me! I told you on the way!" Xie Zhi patted the back seat. "Guaranteed not to get stuck in traffic."

Earlier, on the congested roads of Beichen District, Ji Tan had asked about transport in the western district and whether there was a subway or anything like that. If traffic jammed up as easily as it did in the northern district, Ji Sinan would have been beaten flat by the time he got home.

Xie Zhi had told him, "Someone will meet you after you clear the checkpoint. You'll know what you're riding then."

And then he had met motorcycle taxi driver Xie.

Ji Tan said, "You said someone would meet me."

Driver Xie said, "Right. Am I not someone?"

"..."

Fine, that worked too. It was just that their farewell at the checkpoint had been a bit of a waste of emotion.

Drink one more cup, my friend; west of Yang Pass, no old friends remain. Beyond Yang Pass, his old friend was there, yelling into a mic: On two wheels I ride far and wide, through wind and rain I take it in stride!

Xie Zhi took out an electric-blue helmet and slipped it over Ji Tan's head. He did it too quickly to notice that he had folded down Ji Tan's slightly prominent ears, then hurriedly pulled it off again with a pop, like pulling up a radish.

His hair sticking up all over, Ji Tan snatched the helmet in annoyance, straightened his ears, and put it back on himself.

"Let's go. Hold on tight." Xie Zhi put on his own helmet, which gleamed metallic red and purple, and leaned forward to set off.

Ji Tan tucked the paper bag between them, held it securely, and grabbed the red plaid shirt at Xie Zhi's waist. "I'm ready!"

With a roar, the motorcycle shot forward. Ji Tan clearly hadn't been ready enough. Inertia nearly threw him off, and he instinctively reached out and wrapped his arms around Xie Zhi's waist.

Xie Zhi tilted his head, leaned the motorcycle into a wide turn, and spiraled up onto the elevated road.

Ji Tan was nervous at first, but as they rode, he began to enjoy himself.

Who hadn't dreamed as a teenager of racing a big-displacement motorcycle down a winding road? But his older brother had been strict and absolutely refused to let him ride anything so dangerous, with flesh wrapped around metal. After his brother was gone, he had still followed every rule his brother had laid down. As long as those habits stayed unchanged, it was as though his brother had never left.

But now...

Ji Tan sat up straight, faced the cool night breeze, and tipped his head back to look at the strange, dazzling neon lights. He drew a deep breath and said very quietly, "Ji Sinan, I'm riding a motorcycle. Come back to life and hit me if you can!"

The closer they got to the original owner's home, the more nervous Ji Tan became. He knew it wasn't very likely, but what if? What if his brother really had crossed over too?

He was already in another world, after all. A little miracle wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Xili District really was vastly different from Beichen District, though perhaps Ji Tan's cursory glimpse hadn't shown him the whole northern district. This place resembled a technological metropolis from a movie, both extremely advanced and extremely backward, the entire district artificially split in two.

One half was a dazzling, extravagantly prosperous center. Skyscrapers, broad roads, and enormous 3D screens everywhere. Blue electronic whales rolled through the screens, sending huge splashes toward the surrounding towers. The towers caught the spray and propelled it skyward, where it became a rotating ring of text at their tips:

[With great displeasure, congratulations to Mr. Xie on his promotion to chief executive of City A]

The other half was a dark, filthy, muddy fringe. Low houses of uneven heights stood amid a chaotic tangle of alleys, and battered illuminated signs crackled with sparks on utility poles tangled with wires.

Xie Zhi stopped the motorcycle at the entrance to an alley and checked the street sign. "Alley 36, Broken Line Street."

Ji Tan looked at the narrow, cluttered alley. Discarded cardboard boxes and trash cans lined the sides, along with a beggar lying across the ground and stray dogs urinating against the walls, leaving only enough room for one person to pass sideways. Never mind a motorcycle-even a bicycle wouldn't have room to turn around inside.

"Public safety isn't great in the western district. There are a lot of hot-tempered Orderlies." Xie Zhi caught Ji Tan as he stepped forward to enter. "The slums are even worse. There are fugitives hiding here, and cultists too. Whatever we run into, get behind me first. If I tell you to close your eyes, don't open them, no matter what. Understand?"

Ji Tan frowned as he listened. He had already expected the Ji family's living conditions to be poor, but he hadn't imagined they would be this bad. Naturally, he didn't stubbornly spout nonsense like, "I'm a grown man, I don't need your protection." He obediently nodded.

This place really was dangerous. The warning from his sixth sense sent chills down his back, and he kept feeling as though many eyes were watching from the darkness.

Ji Tan tried to take off his helmet, but Xie Zhi stopped him. "Keep it on."

They stepped over the thunderously snoring beggar and followed the broken bricks down the middle of the slippery, muddy ground into the alley. It was late at night, and every household had its doors shut, with scarcely any light, but it was far from peaceful. A couple in one house wailed and fought, while a dog at another clawed at the wall and barked furiously.

Halfway down the alley, the noise suddenly grew louder.

Hearing it, Ji Tan no longer bothered to avoid the mud and hurried forward.

"The Huo Family didn't send the money yesterday. It's past midnight now. You're overdue, brat!" A coarse, scolding voice echoed through the cramped alley, accompanied by the crash of pots and dishes being smashed.

"Don't smash my pot!" Even trembling with rage and desperation, the shout couldn't conceal that familiar gentle voice.

At the sound of that voice, Ji Tan began shaking uncontrollably. After an instant of frozen stiffness, he picked up speed again. "Stop!"

But no one heard his command from so far away. Instead, there came the dull thud of fists striking flesh. Dim yellow light spilled from the half-open door, the light and shadows flickering with the constantly shifting movements inside.

Xie Zhi caught Ji Tan as he leaped onto the steps and pulled him behind him. "I'll do it."

With that, Xie Zhi raised his leg and kicked the door open, sending a burly man who had been bent over smashing things beside it flying.

The scene inside was instantly laid bare before them.

It was a little single-story home with two rooms, packed with odds and ends but surprisingly tidy. Every bottle and jar was arranged by shade, height, and width on battered wooden shelves nailed to the walls.

But the tables, chairs, and stools had all been overturned, and the little kitchen near the door had been smashed into chaos. Freshly cooked tomato noodles lay spilled all over the floor, broth and all.

A man in a white shirt lay on the floor as two burly men punched and kicked him. Yet he paid no attention to the beating, only repeatedly wiping the footprints off his sleeves and muttering, "Don't mess things up. Don't smash my things!" There was an abnormal frenzy in his voice.

"Everyone, stop!" Ji Tan flipped up his helmet visor and shouted, "I'll pay!"

But no one listened. The burly man who had been knocked flying got up, grabbed a steel pipe from the corner, and swung it at Ji Tan's head. Ji Tan dodged sideways, but the pipe still clipped his helmet with a thunk, staggering him with the impact. It seemed talking wasn't an option for now. He hurriedly picked up a stool leg and ducked over beside Xie Zhi.

Xie Zhi raised his hand. Something like red flames burned within his loosely clenched fist, then rapidly expanded into an illusory round-headed hammer, which he swung at the burly men.

Ji Tan watched those broad-shouldered, thick-waisted debt collectors get hammered to the floor one by one like moles in a game of whack-a-mole, his mouth slowly falling open. Then he looked at Boss Xie, who had finished whacking the moles, slung the hammer over his shoulder, and tipped his chin at him. No matter how he looked at him, something was off.

He kept feeling that Xie Zhi had become much livelier since coming to the western district. He hadn't even snapped his fingers, instead simply and brutally hammering them flat.

The red hammer vanished, and Ji Tan felt another wave of dizziness. Xie Zhi kicked aside the thug at his feet and darted behind Ji Tan, passing one arm beneath both his armpits to hold him up and keep him from falling.

It seemed ordinary people couldn't withstand the Orderlies' "Grace." Merely getting close carried the risk of losing consciousness. Fortunately, he hadn't passed out this time. Ji Tan shook his head, unable to spare much attention for that, and looked urgently at the young man in the white shirt who had been beaten.

The young man adjusted his silver-rimmed glasses, their lenses shattered, and slowly raised his head, revealing a face that bore some resemblance to Ji Tan's.

"Brother..." Ji Tan took off his helmet and stood rooted to the spot. He squeezed that one word from his throat, then couldn't make another sound. It wasn't squint-eyed Li from the next workstation, or anyone else. It was the face he had grown up seeing, the face that had finally hung on the wall-his older brother Ji Sinan's face!

"Little Tan, you're back!" Ji Sinan was delighted to see Ji Tan, though not overly surprised. He stood, held him by the shoulders, and looked him up and down. "Why haven't you called your big brother these past few days? Do you know how worried I've been?"

Ji Tan said nothing, only gazing greedily at his brother before him. Though his face was bruised and swollen, he was brimming with life-a brother with color in his cheeks, warmth in his body, and life in him!

He reached out, wanting to hug his older brother.

"Who are you?" Ji Sinan suddenly demanded sharply. He yanked Ji Tan behind him, grabbed the broom beside him, and pointed it at the trendy man. "Where did this punk come from? Shoo, shoo! I'm warning you, stay away from my little brother."