Chapter 6: But I have parents...

Winter City, Central District.

The Municipal Office Building is connected to the neighboring Central Spire by a pedestrian corridor. This twin-tower complex stands in the middle of an open expanse. The Municipal Office Building, constructed of light gray stone and expansive glass, reflects the sunlight with a dazzling brilliance that makes the entire structure strikingly prominent.

Several uniformed staff members prune the lawns and flowerbeds, while familiar colleagues gather to chat with interest about the trivialities of daily life.

"I tell you, this Winter City, it’s full of vitality, everything is thriving..."

A bicycle darts through the street and screezes to a halt in front of the Municipal Office Building. A man in a casual suit hops off, grabs his thermos from the bike, and rushes into the building.

Yuan Jing walks through the lobby toward the elevators. Staff members pass him constantly, most silently stepping aside when they catch a glimpse of the ID badge on his chest.

As the elevator rises to the higher floors, the city view beyond the glass curtain wall gradually unfolds. The nearby skyscrapers, busy streets, and patrolling public transit trains are all in full view. Pure white trains speed along, circling the inner city, giving one the impression that the city’s vitality is soaring and robust.

However, his gaze drifts to the outer walls further away. There, the area is gray and dilapidated. In the narrow, crowded alleys, simple houses are packed tightly together, with power lines crisscrossing in a disorderly mess overhead, creating a sense of oppression and chaos—a festering scar that remains beneath the polished, glittering skin of the city.

It’s like heaven and earth, really.

On the eighteenth floor of the Municipal Office Building stands a heavy iron door that seems completely out of place with the rest of the administrative departments. Those in the know realize it's an office; those who don't might mistake it for a prison cell.

"When will they finally approve some funding for a renovation..."

Accompanied by the harsh, grinding sound of metal hinges, he pushes the door open.

"Nobody here?"

At that moment, the red parrot perched on the shelf suddenly speaks: "The Captain isn't home today! The Captain isn't home today!"

"Is that true?!"

Yuan Jing is delighted. He strides forward and plops into the boss's chair.

He leans back, spinning around twice before folding his arms across his chest, resting his legs on the desk, and pulling a cigarette from his pocket to toss to the red parrot. "Xiao Jiu, have one—"

The red parrot curls its wing, holding the cigarette in its beak, and waves its other wing. With a "poof," a small flame ignites in mid-air.

Yuan Jing leans in with his own cigarette, and man and parrot begin to puff away in a cloud of smoke.

"Phew, so where did the Captain go?"

"Slacking off! Slacking off!"

"For real?"

"She ran off with the good booze! Ran off!"

"She went drinking without inviting me... I mean, without inviting us old teammates?"

He slams the desk, but before he can voice his thoughts, he hears hurried footsteps outside. His backside, barely warmed, immediately parts ways with the boss's chair, and he practically wishes he could fly to the ceiling.

A young girl with long hair in a high ponytail and a delicate face walks in. Seeing who it is, his suspended heart finally settles.

The red parrot takes flight, its wing slapping the cigarette out and extinguishing it, then it chirps fawningly: "Ji Lin! Ji Lin!"

Ji Lin is wearing a formal suit with an ID badge hanging from her chest. As soon as she enters the office, she is choked by the lungful of secondhand smoke, and her expression instantly turns "kindly."

"Senior Yuan Jing, how many times do I have to tell you—look at what’s hanging there?" The girl points to the sign on the wall with a forced smile, enunciating every word: "No-Smoking Zone. No smoking in the office!"

"Ah!"

Yuan Jing straightens up, plucks out his cigarette, and crushes it in his palm. Seeing that Miss Ji isn't going to press the issue, he lets out a long sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, at least it isn't the Captain.

Yuan Jing opens a window to air out the office, while the diligent Ji Lin goes about her usual routine, tidying up the files on the desk.

He asks tentatively, "Ji Lin, have you heard? When I was in the elevator, I heard them talking about a newcomer joining our Fourth Team. Apparently, they were recruited from the North. Do you think that guy got into some kind of trouble? Why else would he be transferred all the way to Winter City and shoved into our pathetic little team—"

"The person is a girl," Ji Lin says without looking up.

"Yes, yes, a good girl—" Yuan Jing’s expression turns melancholy. "Is our workplace becoming a bit too dominated by women?"

Does he even realize who he's saying this in front of?

Ji Lin pretends not to hear his complaint and continues, "I met her yesterday. She’s very quiet and well-mannered. Isn't this the gentle, elegant, and composed woman you’re always talking about, Senior Yuan Jing? Well, you got your wish."

Yuan Jing tugs at his hair, his distress deepening. "No, it’s just, I heard her age—"

"Seventeen."

"That’s just a kid! Since when do we let little brats play in our line of work?"

"I need to correct you, Senior. There is no age limit in this line of work. According to the preferential policy for talented individuals, theoretically, even a five or six-year-old child can join our department to carry out missions as long as they pass the newcomer tests, though the mortality rate is a bit... moving. Hmm? I recall you didn't join at a very late age yourself, did you?"

Yuan Jing sighs heavily. "Ji Lin, haven't you heard the saying? When roles change, people even empathize with their former selves. You’re putting a high schooler in the team, and a high school girl at that, holy cow..."

The corners of Ji Lin’s mouth curl up, gloating. "What’s the problem? Just don't talk about smoking or drinking in front of her; set a normal example for the high school girl—and by the way, I’m warning you, don't make any lewd jokes. The police station is right next door."

"Go on! You're slandering my aesthetic!"

Ji Lin walks over carrying a mountain of files. "Enough, let's put that aside. We need to reach the Captain."

Yuan Jing is still disgruntled. "Why look for the Captain? Ask Xiao Jiu; she's definitely hiding somewhere drinking."

Ji Lin hands a file to Yuan Jing and says softly, "Someone died last night."

Yuan Jing’s brow furrows.

Ji Lin continues, "In the Jiang District. All the blood was drained from the body, leaving it skin and bones, hanging from the rafters. It was the neighbor who heard a commotion and went to check. Apparently, the neighbor was so scared they lost control of their bowels, which caused quite a bit of trouble for the forensic team."

"Can't even control their own sphincter at that age? That's truly a sad piece of news."

***

Yuan Jing pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and sensibly hands one to the red parrot next to him. Facing Ji Lin’s piercing gaze, neither man nor parrot dares to light them.

His devil-may-care attitude vanishes, and he looks a bit more reliable. He asks calmly, "So, what's the address?"

The red parrot squawks, "Address! Address!"

"Find the Captain first."

The man nimbly pulls out his phone and dials. "Hey, Sister Ming—"

A heated argument comes through the phone.

In the background, one can faintly hear a reckless youth yelling, "Sister! I only have 200 left!" The woman addressed as Sister Ming brings the phone closer and hastily shouts, "Handle the newcomer’s assessment yourself, just make sure nothing goes wrong." The next second, there is only the dial tone.

Yuan Jing shrugs, and Ji Lin familiar-handedly shoves the file toward him.

"Assessment?"

Yuan Jing takes the file, scans it at a glance, and suddenly starts to laugh.

He’s furious.

He asks, "They handed this mission to a newcomer as an entry assessment?"

...

...

"There are two ways to deal with a 'Bug Fall'!"

The white cat hooks its claws, revealing a fierce expression.

Judging by this intensity, he thought Ming was going to tell him there were nine ways to kill them!

"One is to find their physical body. When their heads are separated from their bodies, the body is at its most vulnerable. In fact, you just need to cover the severed neck with a quilt, and if they can't reattach their heads, they'll drop dead by dawn!"

"Of course, in our situation, there’s no way to find their physical bodies, so the only option left is the second method—damn it! Blow their dog heads off!"

In short, charge at them head-on.

Xu Mingsong jogs, following Ming’s directions to run all over the pharmacies in the Jiang District of Winter City. He’s so desperate he doesn't even spare the vegetable markets and supermarkets!

"Plantain leaves, mandrake root..."

"What is Dioscorea?"

"It’s just yam."

"Wait a second, what is this rye juice? It doesn't look like a local product at all, does it?"

The list of items Ming provided makes Xu Mingsong’s scalp tingle. Fortunately, Old Xu helped out with his private savings this morning, so he finally managed to scrape most of it together.

But looking at the still-missing "Bamboo Leaf Green poison gland" and "weasel tongue," Xu Mingsong feels his head buzzing just looking at them.

He swallows hard. "Never mind where to buy these things; even if I bought them, what kind of medicine are you trying to brew?"

"Poison," Ming snickers.

"To feed the Bug Fall?"

"Dalong, stop fooling yourself."

She crawls out from Xu Mingsong’s chest, wraps around his arm, and gracefully climbs onto his shoulder. "If you want to cross that threshold, you have to die once first. Once this medicine is actually made, even if you have to pour it down your throat, you're going to drink the whole bowl... oh, and you don't have a choice anyway."

She mutters, laughing with ill intent.

Can I say that my future self has already kicked the bucket once?

Xu Mingsong takes another look at the garish list, thinking that this is something he can only glance at once; looking any longer might turn him into a coward.

He asks tentatively, "Is there any guarantee of survival?"

She replies without hesitation, "The mortality rate is about one percent."

His eyes light up, and a smile blossoms like a flower. "Godfather? Really?"

Why didn't you say so earlier!

With a one percent mortality rate, if I were the one to trip over that, I’d probably choke to death just drinking water tonight!

She continues, "Counting from the moment you drink it, it stacks by one percent every second."

"Should we just call the police?" The blooming flower wilts instantly.

The probability accumulates by one percent every second?

That means at best he can only live for a hundred seconds. After fifty seconds, every extra second he lives is a thrilling judgment of death!

A hundred seconds! Just a hundred seconds!

He raises his hand tremblingly, his desire for survival intense. "Doesn't that mean drinking it is a death sentence?"

"I'm here, aren't I? If you die, I'll die with you, consider it a suicide pact."

"Wow, you're really good to me."

"Look on the bright side. You can avoid the first day but not the fifteenth. You can rely on the police to survive this time, but if you run into other monsters in the future, can you call the police every single time?"

She says leisurely, "Believe in the wisdom of our predecessors—you can choose not to use a sword, but you cannot be without one. The most urgent task now is to forge that sword, to put a peerless weapon in your hand to help you dominate... tsk, can you be a bit more spirited? Why are you like a salted fish? Haven't you ever had a dream of being a hero who slays demons and upholds justice?"

Xu Mingsong: "I once thought about being the world’s greatest swordsman..."

Ming: "Oh? Isn't that quite something? Now your dream is within reach, why aren't you going for it?"

He curls his lip in disdain. "That was ages ago..."

Every boy has a dream of being a peerless hero, the source of which is hard to trace.

In the dream, a grandmaster or hero appears before you, pats you on the shoulder, and says, "Kid, you’re a one-in-a-million martial arts genius. I have a secret manual today, do you want to learn it?" Then, regardless of anything else, they just pass on their power. Decades of inner force are infused into you, and from then on, you wield the Heaven-Reliant Sword and Dragon-Slaying Saber, slashing through the shadows, settling scores with a smile, competing with heroes from all walks of life, and leaving behind legendary tales.

But as you grow up, an idiot named Reality comes along with a club and smacks you on the head—hey brother, you're not young anymore, why are you still thinking about these unrealistic things? Time to wake up from your dream!

Do you think I don't know that cultivation, superpowers, shattering the void, and erasing the Great Dao are all dreams meant to fool kids?

So what if the little brat inside me wants to have a dream? Did I offend you?

Ming: "Do you have a new dream?"

He nods decisively. "Yes."

"What dream?"

"Get into a good university, find a good job, support my mom and dad in their old age, marry a gentle, beautiful, and graceful wife, have a chubby son and a precious daughter, and achieve the life goal of having a wife, children, and a warm hearth..."

"That’s not a dream, that’s crap!" She rolls her eyes and scolds, "You're seventeen, not thirty-seven. Can we have a little more passion?"

"Is battling wits with the test-makers and fighting against life not 'fiery' enough?"

This mouth is really tough!

Ming narrows her eyes, gives the back of his head a gentle nudge, and asks softly, "You’re the type of person who would still have a mouth left after being cremated. You talk like you're so scared, so why is your action so decisive?"

Xu Mingsong finally hesitates. He remains silent for a long time.

Until he whispers, "I have parents..."

He looks up, the image of the white cat reflected in his pupils. "They’ve raised me for seventeen years. If I can't repay them or protect them, what’s the difference between me and an animal?"

Ming falls silent.

People get scared.

Look, he’s scared to death.

What was he before?

A mediocre high school student, nothing more.

From the storm and future death date predicted last night to being told he was being targeted by the Bug Fall and was on the brink of death, the only buffer in between was that he was so nervous he exhausted himself to sleep... What can he do? Spin a pen? If she hadn't appeared, he really would have called the police today after school and gone to hide at the station.

It was her appearance that gave him a second option.

But unfortunately, this path is a headlong charge toward the end of "death."

Anxiety and unease are human nature.

Although she is just a cat with amnesia, how sharp is her insight into people?

Look, he moves without the slightest hesitation, which shows that there is definitely a fire burning in his heart that won't let him retreat. That fire burns brighter and brighter, from anxiety to terror, then into anger and panic. He doesn't have such extraordinary executive power for no reason; he must have realized something, so he has to charge forward even in the face of fear.

If you ask him about his dreams, dreams are as numerous as the stars in the sky. He looks up at the stars like a salted fish, thinking to himself that you're really good at drawing big cakes—it's a pity you're not a boss.

If you want to ask him, you should ask it this way: Is there anything you want to protect?

Something that requires money, where you spend every cent you have, shouldering over a decade of debt without complaint. Something that requires pleading, where you can kneel for a thousand meters, kowtowing every three steps in public. Something that requires sacrifice, where you donate your bone marrow as soon as the college entrance exam is over. It’s that kind of thing that makes you put down everything in your life to protect it.

Xu Mingsong doesn't want to die, and he certainly doesn't want Old Xu or Ms. Yi to die. Of course, he doesn't want to see his friends and family die either.

"You kid... you're not half bad..."

Her voice is softer than it has ever been.

Before Xu Mingsong can react, Ming curls her lips and says, "Have you heard? People can forget themselves in extreme fear, erupting with amazing potential."

"I think so."

"But have you ever thought about how long the anger erupting from that kind of fear can last? When you counterattack in desperation and realize it’s useless, the anger fades faster than the tide, and it takes your last bit of—"

"...courage?" Xu Mingsong murmurs.

"It’s dignity," Ming flashes a cruel smile.

"You will be like a dog drenched in the rain, scrambling wretchedly across a wasteland washed by a downpour, with no dignity and no personality."

Xu Mingsong shudders.

"Whether it's the internal desire for survival or the external belief we seek, what we need most is steadfastness... I was quite worried that you were just a half-baked person without real awareness, and that you'd die in front of me the moment you took the medicine."

Xu Mingsong mutters, "Do you look down on my iron will to live through death that much?"

Ming mocks, "You're not the material for living through death, at least not yet."

"Alright, local boy of Winter City, the list isn't finished yet. Hurry up and think about where you can buy these things; we don't have much time."

Xu Mingsong sighs. "You don't even look at what kind of freaky things you're asking for. Weasel tongues? Even if you go to a traditional Chinese medicine store, no one is going to sell such bizarre stuff. Where am I supposed to find... wait, let me think—"

He pauses, then slaps his thigh:

"I actually do know a place!"