Chapter 11: A Young Man’s Troubles

After pondering for a moment, Ren Zhong gradually organized his thoughts.

Zheng Tian and other local “natives” had lived in this environment for many years. Before drifting off to sleep, they clearly knew what would happen at night. Yet, their ability to sleep so soundly proved that these nightly raids were as commonplace as eating and drinking. Or perhaps, even if those beasts of the ruins burst into their rooms and killed them in their sleep, death would be as routine as the rising of the sun.

Everyone else slept deeply; he could not afford to appear overly frightened. Being new here, he needed to fit in.

So, despite the anxiety gnawing at his heart, Ren Zhong ultimately did not venture out to investigate. He remained seated on his bed, fists clenched and pressed against his thighs, poised to spring up and run at a moment’s notice. His wary gaze flitted between the large square window and the door, ready for anything.

If a beast did appear, Ren Zhong had no intention of sitting there foolishly awaiting death. Survival was paramount; hiding his true self was secondary. He would run first and ask questions later.

Within two minutes, the gunshots and explosions outside grew more frequent. The clang of boots on the steel stairs also became much more intense—more night watchmen had arrived to lend support. The battle outside was reaching its climax.

Half a minute later, the gunfire and explosions nearby began to subside. Humanity seemed to have gained the upper hand, and Ren Zhong’s heart, which had been lodged in his throat, finally eased.

Just then, another burst of gunfire erupted a little further away, on the other side of the door. Distant shouts rang out from another passage.

“A Class One Ruins Beast, Hardback Lizard, spotted at the left entrance of Cabin Thirteen! Four of them! Requesting backup! Requesting backup! I can barely hold them off!”

“Received! Hold on, just a bit longer! I’m coming!”

Outside the door, the night watchman who had previously called for help responded loudly, his voice noticeably youthful and somewhat familiar.

Rapid footsteps echoed. A figure, gun held at his chest, hurried past Ren Zhong’s door—the very night watchman rushing off to assist elsewhere.

Half a second later, the shadow returned, nervously peering into the room.

By moonlight, Ren Zhong and the young man locked eyes.

Eight-tenths of a second passed before the young man exhaled in relief.

“Whew, you startled me sitting up like that. I thought a stealth-type Ruins Beast had slipped into the cabin.”

Ren Zhong forced a sheepish smile, thoughts spinning. He’d been seen acting differently from the others; should he silence this witness?

He quickly shifted his gaze, settling on the smoking barrel of the gun held by the young man.

Ren Zhong lifted his right hand, pointing toward the left, “Little brother, weren’t you heading that way for backup?”

“Oh, right! See you later!”

In the next instant, the young man vanished.

Since he had already been discovered, Ren Zhong quietly stood up and peeked through the crack in the door, catching a glimpse of the young man’s retreating figure, gun in hand, sprinting away.

Ren Zhong recognized him—it was the teenage boy from the mother-and-son pair he had eavesdropped on earlier.

The boy wasn’t yet sixteen. His outfit was much the same as before, but now he carried a gun, wore a thick vest—likely a bulletproof tactical jacket—and a belt lined with ammunition clips.

Ren Zhong recalled that the pair had discussed coming early to rent a wristwatch for sleep, but something must have happened since then to turn the boy into an armed fighter.

Flashes erupted again, and the thunder of gunfire resumed.

The battle continued.

Three minutes later, the commotion faded, leaving only sporadic gunshots in the distance.

Five minutes after it began, the fight ended; outside, silence returned.

A short while later, the young man returned, passing by Ren Zhong’s door once more.

Seeing Ren Zhong still awake, the boy gave a shy smile, “The battle’s over. You can sleep peacefully now.”

Ren Zhong smiled back, “Thank you.”

...

Ten minutes later, Ren Zhong still couldn’t sleep. He glanced at the clock—it was already half past one in the morning. Since he had been seen awake, he figured it was better to go out and chat with the young man than to toss and turn pointlessly.

The boy seemed honest and straightforward, not as calculating as Zheng Tian; perhaps he would be easier to persuade.

Twin moons hung high in the sky, bathing the land in silver light.

Twenty-five iron coffin-like sleep pods sat quietly.

When Ren Zhong stepped outside, the young man had slung his uniquely shaped machine gun over his back and lounged against the steel railing, gazing up at the sky with idle curiosity, showing no sign of urgency.

“Hey, you’re not asleep?” the boy called out as soon as he saw Ren Zhong approach.

Ren Zhong nodded, “I have insomnia.”

The boy’s mouth fell open, his face full of disbelief.

It was as though insomnia was an utterly unimaginable thing to him.

He thought for a moment, then said with puzzlement, “Earlier, I saw you sitting on your bed without the rented wristwatch. Now you’re wearing a temporary wristwatch on your left hand? So you didn’t rent one?”

Ren Zhong reflected on the young man’s words, and after a brief consideration, decided not to hide it. “Yes, I didn’t rent a wristwatch.”

“If you didn’t rent a wristwatch, you can’t use the sleep-inducing function, but you should have fallen asleep at midnight anyway.”

Ren Zhong’s mind raced, analyzing the world’s underlying rules through the boy’s remark.

But he replied without delay, instead asking, “You’re awake too, aren’t you?”

The boy answered, unperturbed, “I’m not like you. I’m covering someone’s shift as a night watchman tonight. I took the medicine and adjusted my biological clock.”

Ren Zhong acknowledged, “I slept during the day yesterday, so my biological clock is off.”

The boy nodded in sudden understanding, “Oh! That explains it. But there aren’t many people like you anymore. I heard that in ancient times, without medicine, night watchmen would force their biological clocks with sheer willpower. That’s not good, though. I suggest you rent a wristwatch for sleep tomorrow. First, you’ll match everyone’s schedule. Second, you’ll earn contribution points. Third, you should know—if you keep your clock reversed for too long, you’ll die suddenly.”

Ren Zhong replied, “Thank you for your advice. By the way, in Spark Town, how much does someone pay you for covering their night watch shift?”

“Two-tenths of a point—one-tenth more than renting a wristwatch for a night. But regular night shifts are too harmful to the body. I don’t have a choice, though. Sigh.”

“Why?” Ren Zhong asked knowingly.

The boy shook his head in melancholy, “I’m almost sixteen. By the way, sir, you’re from out of town, right? What are your plans? If things get tough, do you want to join up when we leave Spark Town? Travel together?”

“That’s possible, but let’s decide when the time comes.”

Ren Zhong sighed inwardly.

Such a simple exchange, yet it brought him a touch of warmth in this unfamiliar world.

The boy’s mother wanted to give her spot to him, planning to leave town and meet her fate alone.

The boy had agreed aloud, but deep down, he still intended to leave himself.

This impoverished and lonely mother and son struggled to survive, yet their humanity shone through.

Even if their light was as faint as a firefly, as humble as wild grass, still, there was light in this world.

The boy seemed pleased by Ren Zhong’s tentative promise, his face brightening ever so slightly. “Mm!” he replied with enthusiasm.

They didn’t talk much longer. Ren Zhong feigned a yawn, returned to his room, lay down, and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep while pondering.

From the boy’s conversation, it seemed that renting a wristwatch was equivalent to earning contribution points.

How interesting.

Ren Zhong resolved to rent one tomorrow, no matter what.

Yet doubts remained. From the boy’s tone, even without a wristwatch, one should still fall asleep at midnight, and sleep as deeply as everyone else.

Could there be an invisible, colossal biological clock in this world, quietly controlling each person?

It was all too strange.