Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 27
“Hello? Hello? Leo, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. Your voice is as loud as the main engine starting up.”
“Leo, where are you now?”
“At the third ship repair dock in Neo Venice. You’ll see the lovely silhouette of the Little Lady as soon as you enter the port.”
“Alright. Please open the maintenance hangar. We need to make an emergency landing.”
“Oh, what happened? Weren’t you on vacation? What happened? Hey, I see it! Asimov, what is that? A ‘Bard’? Lagrange, what did you do to get a ‘Bard’? The captain will cry if she sees this! No, no, we have to hide it! Titia could turn it into scrap metal in a minute!”
The silver “Bard”, moving at a speed that defied all other models in the universe, quickly left the mobile island and soon returned to the Puccini spaceport. Since fighters couldn’t enter the city, Alois flew it around the city’s perimeter, then painstakingly pulled up the satellite map to find the location of the third ship repair dock.
The cockpit was as packed as a sardine can, making it difficult to move even a hand. Srosie was spread out in a U-shape behind the pilot seat, his resentful eyes shooting curses at Alois from the lower right. Joshua was pressed against him, trying his best not to interfere with Alois’s operations, but the young man’s hands occasionally brushed against his waist as he worked the controls. Alois swore he wasn’t doing it on purpose and mentally apologized to Joshua a million times while continuing to brush against his waist.
The cockpit was dimly lit, which Alois found comfortable. Space was nearly devoid of light, with only the screen and cockpit lights illuminating the darkness. However, Joshua seemed less comfortable. Knowing that he suffered from claustrophobia made Alois worry.
“Joshua, are you okay?” he asked.
“Mm,” the assassin grunted.
“Hang in there. We’re almost there.”
“Mm.”
Joshua shifted up slightly, wrapping his left arm around Alois’s shoulders and burying his head in his neck. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice muffled. Warm breath tickled the young man’s neck, making it a bit itchy.
Alois felt his bones melt.
Deep beneath Green Star Diamond Island
In the dark laboratory, only the holographic projector was lit, casting a ghostly pallor on the man in a white coat standing before it. An ambiguous smile hung on his face, the lenses of his non-prescription glasses reflecting white light, obscuring his eyes. The projector was displaying footage of the “Bard” taking off, filmed from the camera embedded in the cyborg’s eye. To the man, this was precious data, but unfortunately, it had to be destroyed after one viewing. He felt a pang of regret.
A cold female voice came from behind. “Doctor, our lab’s location has been exposed.”
The man remained silent.
“Why didn’t we shoot down that fighter? We could have done it,” the female voice pressed.
“Researcher Ebelin, take a good look at this person.” The man, addressed as Doctor, waved his hand, and the image switched to a close-up of a silver-haired man in the jungle, aiming a gun at the camera. The image zoomed in, freezing on the man’s face.
Ebelin stared at the silver-haired man. “Who is he?”
Another hologram popped up, displaying a wanted notice issued by the Empire police. The notice featured three individuals, one of whom bore a striking resemblance to the silver-haired man, aside from the eye color.
“An assassin… Mourner?”
The Doctor turned off the projector, plunging the lab into pitch darkness. Ebelin clapped her hands twice, and the ceiling lights flickered on, illuminating the underground space.
The Doctor sighed, his shoulders slumping. “The lab was discovered just half a year after it was established. I’ve been too careless. The old coots in the science committee will scold me again.”
Ebelin frowned. “You shouldn’t have chosen this place in the first place.”
“Why not here?” The Doctor picked up a book from a nearby lab table. In an age where e-readers were ubiquitous, owning a paper book was a luxurious indulgence. He lovingly caressed the book’s worn cover, as if stroking a lover. Ebelin saw that the cover was inscribed with “Selected Poems of Storen Wright” in cursive.
“Oh maiden who haunts my dreams…” the Doctor murmured. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing Green Star Diamond Island. Building a lab here has been my lifelong dream. The work here is such a pleasure: sunshine, beaches, waves, beautiful scenery, and enchanting legends. We put in so much effort to convince the committee and spent a fortune to buy this island from Neo Venice.” He hugged the poetry book to his chest like a child with a treasured toy. “I really don’t want to leave.”
Ebelin felt her stomach churn. This man is such a performer, she thought. Pretending to be a melancholic prince. When creating cyborgs, he laughed like a madman. If she hadn’t seen his crazed side, she might have been deceived by his current elegant demeanor. Disgusting! Revolting! “But Doctor, we’ve been exposed. We can only hope the news doesn’t spread. All personnel are ready to evacuate. We’re just waiting for your command to destroy all data.”
“What a shame.” The Doctor, clutching his poetry book, walked toward the door. “Our research on ‘Humanoid Killing Machines’ had made such progress, and now this…”
“Indeed a pity.” Ebelin stepped aside to let him pass. “But we’ve backed up the data and can start again.”
The Doctor entered the corridor leading to the main lab, his silhouette looking somewhat frail.
“It seems I have no fate with Green Star Diamond Island. We’ll find another place and apply for a new research budget. Ah, how is my little Tom? I heard he was injured. It pains me.”
Tom was the Doctor’s first cyborg, whom he treated like a pet. Despite repeated requests from researchers to restrict Tom’s activities to the underground lab, the Doctor insisted on letting him live in the island’s jungle.
“Kids are like that. If you don’t let them play outside, they’ll throw a tantrum.” The Doctor had said this while affectionately stroking Tom’s grotesque face, his tone as gentle as it had been when he spoke to his poetry book. “Isn’t that right, my dear Tom?”
The cyborg’s camera eyes whirled wildly. It didn’t speak, as its vocal cords had been destroyed by the Doctor’s scalpel. But the Doctor seemed to hear its response and laughed joyfully.
“He said ‘yes’. Did you hear that?” The Doctor turned ecstatically to the researchers.
Since that day, no one dared to challenge the Doctor’s decisions.
Madman. Genius. Pervert. All these words perfectly described Dr. Frank Shelley.
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