Chapter Sixty-Three: Old Partners

The blaze devoured the Ansheng Hotel entirely, flames gnawing away at the structure, making the building materials crackle and pop. Yet amidst the chaos, those present could faintly hear a nearly imperceptible scream, as if a monster were letting out a desperate wail at the brink of death. But as the inn was reduced to ashes, everyone felt the cold, oppressive aura dissipate almost entirely. The Special Operations Team’s mental intensity detectors registered no further anomalies.

“You two head back first, I still need to speak with the Oversight Bureau,” Fu Ying swept aside the stray locks from her forehead and addressed Qi Chen and the Gentle Man. The two exchanged a glance, bid Fu Ying farewell, and left without a second thought. The surviving members of the Special Operations squad who had joined them on the mission would soon undergo a series of mental evaluations and examinations to ensure their sanity hadn’t been warped by the ordeal.

Qi Chen caught a ride with the Gentle Man, saving himself another expense.

...

“Should I drop you at home, or what?” The Gentle Man, cigarette dangling from his lips—a habit of his after resolving a strange case—asked as he drove.

“Thank you,” Qi Chen replied with a light smile, betraying no sign that he felt he was inconveniencing his companion.

The Gentle Man chuckled and cursed affectionately, focusing on the road but continuing to chat. “Kid, I can see you’re improving fast. Whether it’s how you handle the missions or your command of your abilities, you’ve lived up to the Institute’s appraisal.”

Qi Chen just smiled, saying nothing. He didn’t feel he’d changed much, nor did he think himself particularly gifted. He simply did his best to handle things well and to further immerse himself in this world. Still, gaining recognition from a veteran was something to be happy about.

“Don’t get cocky, now. There’s a long road ahead, especially for folks like us who deal with the uncanny day in and day out. We can’t afford even a moment’s complacency.” The Gentle Man slipped into lecture mode, oblivious to Qi Chen turning his face away in silent protest.

“Sorry to cut you off, but rather than talk about this, shouldn’t we be considering what’s really happening with the Vertical Pupils Society?” Qi Chen, unable to endure any longer, finally spoke up. It was a matter he genuinely cared about.

“How should I know?” The Gentle Man replied gruffly. “Captain Fu has said it again and again—wait for Refraction’s intel before acting. For now, we just wait. But…”

A trace of worry flickered in his brow; his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“The day after tomorrow, Elder Li is leaving the city. I don’t know if they’ll make it back safely.”

“Who exactly is this Elder Li?” Qi Chen was curious. He’d heard the name often in the Uncanny Affairs Department, whether from Fu Ying, the Gentle Man, or even that proud old veteran, and each spoke of Elder Li with heartfelt respect.

He only knew that Elder Li was the head of the Administrative Hall of City Three—the “Lord” of Hall Three. What the man had accomplished, Qi Chen was completely in the dark.

The Gentle Man glanced at Qi Chen and chuckled. “Who is Elder Li? You can see his influence across every corner of City Three.

“Remember how I told you about City Two? Actually, it’s not just City Two that’s a mess—most of the Alliance’s nine cities are just as rotten.

“City Three is special, and Elder Li’s role is irreplaceable.

“He’s the one who’s made it possible for ordinary people to live without constantly struggling just to eat, and for uncanny operatives like us to be treated as people, not tools.

“In his eyes, uncanny operatives and ordinary citizens are equals.”

Qi Chen needed no further explanation; he understood now what kind of figure Elder Li was. The soul of City Three was forged under his leadership. It was no wonder the Uncanny Affairs Department cared so deeply for his safety.

“Then why… why would Elder Li risk leaving the city?”

The Gentle Man paused, then slowly answered. “I’ve asked him something similar before.

“He told me this: ‘The Alliance isn’t just City Three. The world isn’t just the Alliance.’”

“We’re here. Hurry up and get out.” Before Qi Chen could respond, the Gentle Man opened the door for him, banishing any lingering thoughts with a brusque remark: “Come on! I still have to get to Lantern Street, and you’re not coming with me, so don’t waste my time!”

Qi Chen, speechless, had nothing more to say. He cursed under his breath as he got out. How could a proper member always be thinking of visiting Lantern Street? He should be more like himself!

...

“Damn kid,” the Gentle Man muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror and seeing Qi Chen’s figure vanish. He gently pressed the accelerator, and the red off-road vehicle roared to life. But his destination wasn’t Lantern Street—it was a road leading to the city’s edge.

He stopped halfway, pulling over and walking with practiced ease to a shop still open for business.

“Boss, the usual,” he said, pulling cash from his pocket and placing it on the counter. The shopkeeper grinned, took the money, and handed over a bag already prepared.

“Two bottles of liquor, two packs of cigarettes, all set aside just for you.”

The Gentle Man smiled, took the bag without another word, and returned to his vehicle.

The engine roared, and the red off-road vehicle continued alone down the road. After nearly half an hour, it finally stopped by a park near the city wall.

More precisely, it was a cemetery.

He exhaled, picked up the cigarettes and liquor, and headed toward a specific part of the graveyard, walking all the way to its deepest recesses.

It was not a large area, but it was crowded with gravestones, some bearing photographs, others with images so faded they were nearly gone.

Here lay all the uncanny operatives who had sacrificed themselves since the city’s founding—uncanny walkers, special ops, and support staff alike.

Moving naturally among the tombstones, the Gentle Man placed packs of cigarettes at different graves, breaking up the cartons as he went.

At last, he carried only the two bottles of liquor to his final destination.

“Brother, I’ve come to see you again.” He took a swig of the strong liquor, its fiery bite burning his throat, yet his expression remained unchanged.

“Remember the last time I came, I told you about the new kid? His name is Qi Chen, and now he has a code name—Mask.

“He’s coming along so well. Sometimes, I don’t even think of him as a rookie.

“The Institute’s psychologists rate him highly, you know? They say his heart is full of sunshine and hope.

“I’ve never seen sunshine… but I imagine it must be warmer than the lights atop the tower.

“If only that kid could help everyone keep their hearts full of those things. I think he can—not just because his uncanny abilities are absurdly strong… but because there’s something in his eyes that makes me believe.

“I just hope… I never have to face another partner gone out of control…”

...