When Bi Shenghua returned to the bar, Bian Ziyuan and Mei Ziqing had already left.
Mei Ziqing seemed rather unenthusiastic, claiming it was because she hadn't had the drink the proprietress had made, but anyone with a discerning eye could tell there was another reason.
A good bartender can indeed mix delicious drinks, but the true meaning of a bar has never been about drinking. Whether it's for having fun, drowning sorrows, or simply killing time or relieving stress, people don't really come to appreciate the drinks, and they certainly won't let the bartender ruin their enjoyment.
Despite Mei Ziqing's repeated explanations, Bian Ziyuan stubbornly believed that his poor performance that night had caused all of this.
He was deeply remorseful for his cowardice and incompetence, for failing to seize this excellent opportunity to please the beauty. He carefully recalled that Mei Ziqing's failure to directly refuse the harassment from the thugs was a test for him, and his performance could only be described as terrible. Afterwards, he was immersed in self-blame, sadness, and humiliating unease, and no longer had the courage to say the beautiful words he had prepared in front of Mei Ziqing.
The eerie, deathly figure in the corner intensified his despair, plunging him into a dark abyss of self-doubt from which he couldn't escape, even fantasizing about the end of the world. He began to feel that the world was full of malice towards him, as if everyone in the bar was laughing at him and looking at him with strange eyes.
He and Mei Ziqing parted ways on the street, and he watched her get into a taxi and disappear into the midnight drizzle.
He walked home in the rain, opened a can of beer, and sat down on the sofa with his soaking wet clothes. He recalled Mei Ziqing's blurry yet beautiful face in the dim light, and the faint fragrance wafting from her. He poured the beer into his already alcohol-filled stomach, then rubbed the empty beer can hard, shooting all the churning desires and nauseating stench into the can's dark, invisible cavity.
He felt an endless emptiness, his consciousness sank into darkness, his body rotted in the damp heat, and his wet clothes, clinging to his body, were like a shroud dug out of a coffin.
He tossed the beer can into the trash can, letting the liquid spill out and mingle with the cockroach-infested leftovers from the previous night. He peeled off the shroud from his body piece by piece, like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, then rushed into the bathroom and washed himself with scalding water over and over again.
However, physical impurities can be washed away, but the gloom in one's spirit cannot be dispelled.
He saw Mei Ziqing emerge gracefully from the misty bathroom, gently washing away the grime from his body with an unprecedentedly captivating smile and tender touch. He felt a renewed urge to release his pent-up desire, but then he saw a deathly aura rising from the corner. The chilling cold from hell shattered his body's hardness and the last vestige of his manhood, leaving him feeling weak and his inferiority complex deepening.
The image of Mei Ziqing disappeared into the mist, leaving only the sound of boiling water in the bathroom. He saw another Mei Ziqing standing outside the hazy glass, looking at him as if from another world.
Bian Ziyuan suddenly awoke from his oblivion, remembering who he was and the pride that a computer genius once possessed. The darkness was once again filled with the glory of life; the emptiness was gone, and a sense of fulfillment returned to his body.
He was determined to return to the world he belonged in and use his abilities to change his own future and that of humanity.
He quickly dried himself off, left the bathroom, and sat down at the computer, the only place where he could unleash his talents. He used familiar code to write down his thoughts and his determination for the future.
Then, he put on the Space Box and created his own world of consciousness.
He returned to the bar, watching the bartender place a glass of sake on two chopsticks. Before the bartender could make his next move, he slammed his hand on the table. The chopsticks vibrated, and the sake glass landed precisely in the beer glass below, exploding with a bang, like a deep-sea bomb. The customers at the bar cheered. Bian Ziyuan merely smiled slightly, moved the glass to Mei Ziqing, his calm expression barely concealing the ecstatic joy he felt upon seeing the beauty's admiring gaze.
That shameless bastard came over to talk to Mei Ziqing again. Bian Ziyuan watched coldly until he revealed his true colors. Only then did he grab Mei Ziqing by the collar and throw him out of the bar window. Mei Ziqing and his accomplices stormed in like thugs. Bian Ziyuan simply pressed lightly on the back of his neck, and Mei Ziqing's inferiority complex, which had been endlessly succumbing to weakness, vanished completely. His body became incredibly hard, every muscle and every bone like steel, radiating a metallic luster and aura.
Those pathetic creatures were as fragile as glass before him. As he effortlessly crushed their bones, everyone was awestruck by his hardness and power. No one cared about his ugliness; their eyes became mesmerized, and they cried out in madness:
Iron Man! Future Warrior!
Bian Ziyuan liked hearing this sound, even more so than he had expected from Mei Ziqing's adoring expression. He was pushed to the center of the stage and tossed into the air by the cheering crowd in the chaotic light, like a triumphant hero.
However, he was immediately met with two icy gazes shooting from the corner, and his body instantly became supple again, his hot blood turned cold again, and the feeling of humiliation returned.
But he had to maintain a facade of strength amidst the frenzied crowd. He remembered how he had become powerful simply by touching his neck—what was behind that neck?
He reached out and touched a slight bulge there, like a switch. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't trigger it again to turn him into a body of steel.
The crowd sensed his fragility crumbling and scattered with a roar. Thrown into the air, he was left unattended and crashed to the ground. He felt excruciating pain and lamented the fragility of the human body. A thought, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, began to grow in his mind, spreading like wildfire and eventually taking over his consciousness, becoming an indelible belief—
Consciousness can choose different bodies; metallic and machine life is humanity's future!
As his belief was born, his body ached, and his consciousness returned, he awoke from his shock to find himself still sitting in a dark corner of the bar, the glass of strong liquor on the table already finished. Mei Ziqing was sitting opposite him, watching him with a half-smile. Behind her was an even more secluded corner of the bar, where a deathly aura still lingered, and two chilling gazes shot out from under her cloak, making him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave.
He stood up, feeling a sticky residue on his trousers, but he wasn't uncomfortable. He was no longer ashamed, no longer lost on the dark path; his strong belief had helped him regain his glory and hope for the future.
He walked out of the bar with Mei Ziqing in a gentlemanly manner, saw her into a taxi, and watched her disappear into the midnight drizzle.
A month later, Bian Ziyuan took his annual leave to travel to Japan. After enjoying a period of unprecedented happiness in Tokyo, he completely cured his weak inferiority complex. Then, he walked into an inconspicuous but mysterious underground laboratory and allowed the flexible, octopus-tentacle-like mechanical arms there to implant a chip in the back of his neck.