Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 64: Warmth

His body that was enveloped in the Erosion Swamp, gradually warmed up. The contrast between pain and comfort made Zhu Yanchen feel a bit dizzy. Something warm and soft was squirming and taking shape on his body. He opened his eyes wide, but the sticky darkness covered his eyeballs, making it difficult to see clearly.

Could it be that he was experiencing hallucinations on the brink of death?

He could hear the Erosion Swamp surging around him, making a sound like the ebb and flow of tides, as if some colossal creature was about to emerge from the vortex. Shu Jun completely fused with the Erosion Swamp. If he were to abandon rational thinking and lose his humanity in the midst of mental torment, an unprecedentedly powerful Erosion Swamp would be born.

However, the clamor gradually subsided, and the warmth around him increased. It was no longer the warm Erosion Swamp that enveloped him, but a human embrace.

Indeed, it must be a hallucination.

Zhu Yanchen sighed in his heart. Just as he was about to close his eyes, he saw two points of silver-white light in the darkness. They drew closer and closer, and then something warm and soft covered his lips.

It was a kiss, shallow and cautious, gentle and delicate, pure without a hint of desire. It felt as if the slightest exertion would cause him to shatter.

Shu Jun was indeed kissing with caution.

He didn’t know how to handle the overflowing emotions in his chest. The past bits and pieces were pieced together, his heart swelled, making it difficult to breathe. Rationality and madness retreated from his mind, and he could hardly think, leaving only uncontrollable emotions.

Zhu Yanchen was awake, he knew it. Those eyes as deep as ancient wells were half-closed, piercing through the darkness, quietly focused on him. Despite the surging emotions, Shu Jun’s movements were extremely slow, giving the other enough time to evade.

But Zhu Yanchen didn’t move.

Even though he had healed the other’s injuries, Marshal Zhu’s lips were still cold, carrying a hint of blood.

Previously, when he learned that Zhu Yanchen had dedicated his life to researching the Erosion Swamp, Shu Jun thought of him as a stubborn researcher. Now he deeply understood what it meant for him to have been “researching the Erosion Swamp for sixteen years”.

For a moment, Shu Jun even wished that “Smoke” was just an ordinary child. If he hadn’t been born into a privileged family, according to Zhu Yanchen’s persistence, he could have boldly opposed the player system and formed a decent resistance organization.

In that case, even if the path was limited and the contradictions were unsolvable, his friend could live freely and strive for a clear conscience.

But Zhu Yanchen ultimately chose to stand in a high position, attempting to solve this problem personally.

As a leader himself, Shu Jun knew what this represented—Zhu Yanchen couldn’t simply disregard and abolish the player system. If he couldn’t find a suitable reason, he would undoubtedly be overthrown by his ambitious competitors. While upholding the well-being of synths, he also had to shoulder the responsibility for human welfare.

In the current situation, this path was akin to a moth flying into a flame.

Even if he knew he couldn’t save him, even if he knew that changing everything would only be achieved through gradual progress, his once timid friend had become the first drop of water without hesitation.

“A’Yan, I thought you were a stable person.” Shu Jun moved his lips away and whispered softly. “Why are you so…”

He wanted to say foolish, wanted to say crazy, wanted to say stubborn, but in the end, he swallowed his words. Thinking back to when they first met, when this person deliberately acted distant, Shu Jun couldn’t even catch his breath.

He felt the urge to beat him up, but he didn’t even dare to embrace him too tightly. Fine, Shu Jun turned his head slightly and kissed Zhu Yanchen’s lips again.

The past couldn’t be regained, but from now on, he could at least be certain that the other person didn’t need to move forward alone.

To hell with waiting for the war to end before pursuing. This person was his—

Even if Zhu Yanchen didn’t have romantic feelings for him, this person was still his friend and family, and that would never change. The resentment instilled in him found an outlet; their thorns were smoothed away and transformed into determination and bittersweetness.

Shu Jun attempted to move his lips away again, and the darkness in his mind gradually dissipated, replaced by a mental script of how to sincerely explain this kiss later. But before he could finish that mental script, Zhu Yanchen kissed him back.

If Shu Jun’s previous kiss was cautious and tentative, as light as a dragonfly skimming the water, carried with compassion and comfort, then this kiss in return was fierce and filled with complete longing and desperation.

Zhu Yanchen firmly held the back of Shu Jun’s head, kissing deeply.

Shu Jun was stunned for a few seconds by a mix of pure confusion and joyful tingling. He refused to be outdone. He pulled Zhu Yanchen closer, passionately responding.

As if the missing pieces of a puzzle had finally come together, a faint crack echoed in the depths of his heart. Their breaths intertwined ambiguously, warm exhalations turning into boiling water. Neither of them wanted to stop, allowing the heat to rise and their lips and tongues on the verge of melting.

In the end, Zhu Yanchen’s tongue grazed the base of Shu Jun’s incisors. His A’Yan exerted a slight force with his hands, and the two finally separated.

“We need to support the festival venue.”

After catching their breath, the two almost simultaneously spoke.

Their kiss was passionate, and after they broke apart, a strange awkwardness filled the air. Shu Jun racked his brains and spoke again—

“Is your injury okay?”

“How is your body?”

Once again, they spoke in unison.

The heat from their prolonged kiss dissipated, leaving behind an awkward silence.

“…Let’s go get Monday first.” After a long pause, Zhu Yanchen spoke, his voice carrying a strangely wavering tone. “We both need light and examination.”

“Ah, yeah,” Shu Jun quickly responded. He straightened up and helped the weakened Marshal Zhu to his feet. While his injuries weren’t a concern, his physical strength had been drained and wouldn’t recover for a while.

However, even when supported, Marshal Zhu’s steps were still somewhat unsteady. The Vine Erosion Swamp had reverted to an ordinary Erosion Swamp, and Shu Jun hadn’t absorbed a significant amount of erosion to trigger a major transformation. The erosion under their feet was knee-deep, making it difficult to walk.

“Where is Monday?”

“Go about 1,200 meters in that direction.” The two were close together, so Zhu Yanchen raised his hand to point.

“Okay.” Shu Jun exerted his arm strength and firmly held onto Marshal Zhu’s waist, resolutely carrying him in front. Unfortunately, Zhu Yanchen was larger in size, and Shu Jun wasn’t adept at carrying someone like this, so his movements were slightly awkward.

After contemplating in place for a moment, Shu Jun nodded. The Erosion Swamp stretched upward, forming numerous black withered hands, carefully cradling Zhu Yanchen so he could lie down more comfortably.

…A rather alarming princess carry.

Zhu Yanchen: “…”

The ambiguous atmosphere vanished without a trace. Shu Jun’s expression was too righteous, and Marshal Zhu kept himself stiff and almost straight, giving the scene a somewhat inexplicable sense of tragedy.

As a result, as soon as Monday spotted them, it yelled in a mournful voice.

“Zhu! Zhu—dead—dead—”

“Shut up.” Shu Jun gritted his teeth and placed Marshal Zhu on a clean stone slab. As soon as he touched the ground, Marshal Zhu, who had been as stiff as a rod, relaxed a bit and sat up properly.

There were many things hanging on Monday. Shu Jun pulled them off with a flick of his sword, and all the luggage appeared before Zhu Yanchen.

Marshal Zhu drank a whole bottle of replenishing liquid. He was soaked in sewage and blood, but his complexion improved a lot. Shu Jun opened a backpack beside him and started a fire. Then he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Zhu Yanchen.

Zhu Yanchen’s dark eyes were fixed on him.

Shu Jun’s gaze softened, and he didn’t speak to explain. He just held Zhu Yanchen’s hand and extended his other hand, hooking their pinky fingers together.

Zhu Yanchen withdrew his gaze, closed his eyes, and then exhaled a long breath, as if trying to release all the suppression of the past sixteen years.

The two remained silent. The environment here was even more chaotic and terrifying than before the war, but Shu Jun felt as if the whole world had been washed and became much gentler.

“Shu Jun, help me take down the instrument over there… The white one. I need to check your blood indicators,” Zhu Yanchen said after a few minutes of absentmindedness. His tone carried an unprecedented lightness.

Shu Jun didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?”

“You take a break first. We’ll check in ten minutes. Then you rest for another twenty minutes, and when your strength recovers, we’ll go to the festival venue.” Shu Jun took out a watch and started timing in a professional manner.

Then Shu Jun snapped his fingers. Several clusters of amorphous matter formed into balls from the Erosion Swamp. They warmed themselves by the fire and crawled towards Zhu Yanchen.

The latter looked at those strange balls with suspicion.

“You’ll catch a cold like this.” Shu Jun commanded the ball-like entities to move forward. “And you’ve always liked cleanliness. With so much dirt on you, you definitely can’t stand it. I just let them clean the water and dirt off you without hurting you. During this time, we can talk… talk about…”

He wanted to say, “talk about the kiss just now”, but his tongue couldn’t cooperate.

Shu Jun racked his brains, trying to draft his words, while a few warm, amorphous balls approached Marshal Zhu. They gently rolled over Zhu Yanchen’s skin, removing moisture and completely decomposed the bloodstains and mud, not even touching a single fiber of his clothes. The soft balls crawled over the freshly healed wounds. Their touch as gentle as fingertips brushing, causing Zhu Yanchen to furrow his brows and let out a soft hum.

This time, Shu Jun’s thoughts completely fell apart, and all that filled his mind were the words, “digging one’s own grave”.

“I… I didn’t mean anything else,” Shu Jun said uneasily, crossing his hands and almost scratching himself with his claws. “Just now, I, no, it’s not… just now I—”

Zhu Yanchen quietly looked at him.

Shu Jun took several deep breaths, closed his eyes for a moment, and his words regained the air of a warrior. “Forget it, it’s not good to keep holding back. Let me be clear, A’Yan, after we handle the issues at the venue, we need to have a serious talk.”

He approached decisively and grabbed a squirming, amorphous ball. The ball squirmed in his hand for a moment, then obediently played dead.

“I’m just using this thing without any other intentions,” Shu Jun said with a stern face and a very serious tone. “But when I kissed you just now, I did have another meaning—originally, I wanted to wait until the war was over to say it, but just now, I remembered everything, and I couldn’t control my emotions.”

“I am sober. I kissed you, and I acknowledge it.” He approached closer, his beastly eyes narrowing into a thin slit. “However, you seemed absent-minded just now, so it’s better to clarify this matter.”

“You might not be clear-minded,” Zhu Yanchen said softly. “You have been disturbed by negative emotions for too long, and your memories have just returned. Under such an impact, you might instinctively rely on me.”

He paused cautiously, showing no emotion on his face.

“I agree, we should make things clear. After all, we have more important matters now, such as the situation at the festival and your health…”

He hadn’t finished speaking when he was forced to swallow the second half of his sentence.

Shu Jun placed a soft, amorphous ball on each side of Marshal Zhu’s head, sandwiching his cheeks in between. That handsome face was slightly creased from the pressure.

“I finally thought of the right words.” Shu Jun’s nails were sharp, so he didn’t dare directly use his hand, but instead used the amorphous balls and indirectly squeezed Zhu Yanchen’s face. “Is this what you wanted, A’Yan? Huh? If I wasn’t so worried, I really wanted to knock your head off—talking about negative emotions messing things up, damn it…”

Shu Jun gritted his teeth and swallowed his harsh words. A’Yan had always been stubborn and being alone for so many years made it inevitable for him to be emotionally obtuse. With limited time now, it would be difficult to reach a conclusion in this “who took advantage of whom” debate.

“Your negative thoughts haven’t changed at all. Fine, let’s talk. After we’re done at the festival, we’ll close the door and have a serious talk.”

Shu Jun revealed his sharp teeth, speaking slowly and ending with a bitter smile.

They were partners, war companions. They couldn’t run away from it. Now, they didn’t even need to consider the future. Whether it was a long-standing affection or an impulsive moment, he absolutely had to hold onto this complicated situation and make things clear.

With this in mind, he let out a fierce hum. Shu Jun released Zhu Yanchen’s face and used one of the amorphous balls to wipe the other’s hair.

Lost in his frustration, Shu Jun missed Zhu Yanchen’s gaze.

Marshal Zhu stared attentively at the person in front of him; his gaze like a beast ready to pounce, filled with determination.

The flames flickered, illuminating those bottomless eyes. Zhu Yanchen reached out his hand, hesitating subconsciously for a moment, but then he curved his lips and decisively grabbed Shu Jun’s wrist.

“Time’s up. It’s time for your blood test,” he said. “…You’re right, we need to resolve the matters at the festival as soon as possible.”

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 63: The Final Promise – Part 2

Shu Jun remembered every detail of their parting.

In fact, he had a faint premonition about their separation. After the Reunion Festival, Smoke’s mood became increasingly sour. Smoke’s explanation was that his mother’s condition worsened, causing worry in his heart, but Shu Jun knew that wasn’t the whole story.

Smoke was hiding something, burying it in his heart like a hidden blade, the pain concealed beneath a forced facade. Shu Jun watched him suffer, feeling a burning anxiety in his heart, but he couldn’t forcefully press for answers—he had asked countless times, but Smoke refused to speak.

Smoke was usually closest to him, so he must have his own reasons.

All Shu Jun could do was be a little kinder to Smoke, attempting to dilute his sadness.

Shu Jun used to fall asleep quickly, but before their parting, he found himself unable to sleep. He would purposely listen to Smoke’s breathing rate, and if he noticed that Smoke wasn’t asleep, his chest would tighten, and he had no choice but to pretend to be asleep—if Smoke discovered otherwise, he would surely take the blame for the impact and feel even more sorrowful.

Thinking that Smoke was asleep, Shu Jun would gently kiss the top of his head and awkwardly embrace him, holding him tightly even if it caused discomfort. Once he was sure Smoke had fallen asleep, he would get up, adjust the blanket, and gently hold him against his chest.

As long as he did this, Smoke’s troubled brows would relax a bit.

Shu Jun did everything he could, trying to share all the interesting things he encountered with Smoke. But for some reason, even though Smoke would respond with a smile on his face, the sadness in his eyes grew deeper.

“Tomorrow, I have something important to tell you,” Smoke said after almost a year since they met.

It seemed that Smoke couldn’t bear it any longer and intended to come clean with him.

Shu Jun sat properly at home early, even preparing two cups of tea and adding some sugar, trying to make everything look presentable. But the tea grew cold, and Smoke didn’t show up—Smoke was a very punctual person and had never been late in the past year.

Finally, as Shu Jun pondered whether he should go out to look for Smoke, there was finally a knock at the door.

Smoke’s appearance frightened Shu Jun—he was gasping for breath, covered in sweat, and his expression appeared both frightened and desperate.

“Come in quickly.” Shu Jun quickly fetched a hot towel and poured the two cups of cold tea together, heating the mixture to a warm temperature, then handed it to Smoke. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“I can’t stay here for too long.”

Smoke gulped down more than half a cup of tea, wiped his face, and then placed his hands firmly on Shu Jun’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” He choked for a while before finally speaking, his eyes slightly red. “…<Erosion> isn’t just a game. Your world is.”

“A’Yan, what are you talking about?”

“I lied to you. I’m not from this world. I come from <Erosion>. Shu Jun, this world is all fake. Its education, propaganda, everything is tilted towards <Erosion>. But have you seen any other games? There’s only one dominant game, and it has lasted for over a hundred years, which is completely abnormal…”

Shu Jun had never anticipated that Smoke was holding such a shocking secret inside. Smoke’s state seemed off, perhaps he had experienced some major shock. Should Shu Jun apply for medical assistance?

“I’m begging you.” Smoke’s voice trembled with a sob. “Please believe me.”

Shu Jun bit his lip and withdrew his hand. “Go on.”

“You were trained as ‘living weapons’, much stronger than ordinary people, which is why you’re carefully controlled like this. In <Erosion>, when you die, you’re truly gone. There’s no changing professions, and real-life players simply don’t exist…”

“But on the Reunion Festival day, we saw Xu Kan.” Shu Jun murmured. “A’Yan, are you feeling unwell? Xu Kan did die in <Erosion>, but he seemed fine. There are so many people here, not everyone is a player…”

“That wasn’t Xu Kan at all. They were artificially created NPCs. Their entire family is. In this city, the vast majority of people are real NPCs.” Smoke closed his eyes in anguish. “Do you remember the night you took me home in the beginning?”

“I remember.”

“My mother was in such pain from her illness, so she came here to escape it, and I came to accompany her.” Zhu Yanchen spoke softly. “She always wanted me to explore more. On the night we met, I was alone and feeling sad, so I took a walk and got on a bus. You should have noticed something that night.”

Indeed, as Smoke mentioned it, Shu Jun also felt that something wasn’t quite right. The security in this city had always been good, and there was sufficient lighting at night. There were many shops open 24 hours, and there were people on the streets at all times. Shu Jun met Smoke near the city center, and Smoke looked terrified.

After knowing each other for so long, Shu Jun was quite familiar with Smoke’s personality. Smoke didn’t like to trouble others, and their initial encounter was quite coincidental, so his sudden request to stay overnight was a bit unexpected.

It wasn’t a big deal, and Shu Jun was having a good time, so he gradually forgot about it.

“I only found out later. To reduce monitoring difficulty, only the world around the ‘players’ is in operation. There was a player near where my mother lived, and when the bus went out of his perception range, everyone on the bus froze instantly. I was terrified at that time, which is why I wanted to be with you… As long as I’m by your side, the world is normal.”

Shu Jun’s head buzzed, and he instinctively found these things hard to believe. But upon careful listening, Smoke didn’t sound like he was talking nonsense. Years of common sense clashed with trust in his friend, making it difficult to determine who would win or lose. “I… I don’t know. I need to think about it…”

Smoke let out a long breath. He picked up the fruit knife on the table and stabbed it straight towards his chest.

Shu Jun was terrified, and he quickly snatched the knife. Before he could react, the tip of the knife stopped at Zhu Yanchen’s chest—a barrier appeared out of thin air, blocking the tip of the knife with a sharp sound. The tip of the knife barely pierced the skin, causing a small amount of blood to seep out.

“What are you doing?!” Shu Jun snatched the knife back and carefully examined the wound.

“This is the special insurance given to us as ‘humans’ from the other side.” Smoke clenched his fists, resting his chin on Shu Jun’s shoulder, his voice choked. “Both my mother and I won’t suffer fatal injuries here, I…”

Unfortunately, Shu Jun couldn’t finish hearing this sentence. He felt a sudden pain at the back of his head, as if he had been hit with a blunt object. The world spun, and he opened his eyes wide, trying to look towards Smoke’s direction.

In his blurred vision, Smoke’s feet emitted a circle of blue light, and he disappeared directly inside the room.

When he woke up again, Shu Jun slumped in the chair, and the room was empty. The fruit knife had no trace of blood, the two cups of cold tea were still on the table, and everything that happened seemed like an illusion, except for the definite passage of time.

Was it a dream?

The hot towel was in its original place, and the floor was spotlessly clean. Shu Jun slowly touched his shoulder. There was a slightly unnatural dampness on his shoulder, cold to the touch, like tears.

Shu Jun took a deep breath.

That night, he slept alone for the first time. Shu Jun tossed and turned, unable to sleep, as Smoke’s words echoed in his mind.

It was too absurd, lacking any sense of reality. But Smoke had suffered for months because of this, and it didn’t seem like a whim or a sudden breakdown. It was actually quite simple to verify—if he could see Smoke again and ask about what happened tonight.

However, Shu Jun had a bad feeling. He didn’t know if they would ever meet again.

Shu Jun covered his head with a pillow, holding onto Smoke’s cup, and began to think seriously. If it was all fake, it would be fine, but what if Smoke’s words were true? Smoke’s tears on the night of the Reunion Festival, Smoke’s changes over the past half year, the strange rules of <Erosion>… Everything had an explanation now.

Shu Jun closed his eyes, and his heart sank slowly.

Smoke didn’t come the next day, nor the day after. He was like a non-existent ghost, passing through his own life like this. About a week passed, the winter snow completely melted, and the final simulation test was about to begin, but Smoke still hadn’t shown up.

The two pots of bellflowers were placed side by side, thriving. Shu Jun stared blankly at the sand table game without an opponent, then stood up.

Shu Jun had been given enough clues by Smoke that he could use—Smoke’s mother would be recuperating somewhere with a nice view outside the window. Smoke had taken the bus here that night, and he was scared, so he wouldn’t have been on the bus for too long.

Moreover, there were players living near his residence.

Shu Jun changed the sand table to a map of the city center and began to investigate one by one.

There was only one place that met all the conditions. The Garden Hotel in the city center, where a member of the Blackbirds had booked a room and stayed there for a long time.

“A shy and handsome young boy?” When asked by Shu Jun, the team member was momentarily stunned. “I don’t have any impression, but apart from me, there is indeed someone else living here. Several times, I saw a maid taking meals upstairs. I had a few conversations with her, and her employer is staying in V4… V4 something? Anyway, it’s in the V4 area. I don’t know the specifics.”

“Thank you.”

V4 was the most upscale area, with only five rooms. Instead of knocking on the door immediately, Shu Jun quietly followed behind the cleaning staff and peered into each room.

Only Room V41 was never cleaned. The cleaning staff seemed hypnotized, not even sparing a glance at it.

“What are you doing?” Just as Shu Jun was about to further investigate, he was caught by someone dressed as a manager. “This is the VIP area, not a place for children to play around.”

Shu Jun laughed awkwardly and was dragged by the collar to the main entrance.

“Sorry, sorry.” He grinned, his voice apologetic. “I was just looking for my brother on the Blackbirds and got the room wrong.”

The manager nodded with a stern face and turned back to the hotel.

…Yeah, right. Shu Jun rolled his eyes and, relying on his thick skin, sneakily returned like a piece of toffee. The manager probably didn’t expect him to come back so soon. After returning to his seat, he smoothly activated the holographic screen, completely unaware of Shu Jun squatting in the decorative shrubs.

“Shu Jun, no, S-001 is still tracking Zhu Yanchen’s whereabouts and has now found the V4 area.”

“Empty the room as soon as possible.”

“What about Zhu Yanchen?”

“Mr. Zhu has already dealt with him. Zhu Yanchen will come on the 17th to handle Mrs. Xia’s belongings and keep the data as a memento.”

“Why wait until the 17th? Wouldn’t it be better to resolve it earlier? We have to wait three more days like this.”

“The 17th is the simulation test time for the training school. S-001 won’t come to disturb.”

“Understood, then I’ll be the manager for three more days. Regarding S-001…”

Shu Jun didn’t listen any further.

He only remembered that he had wandered around the area a few times to appear more natural. After that, he didn’t remember how he got back home, nor did he feel hunger or thirst. His world had completely shattered, but the surrounding environment was too peaceful and beautiful, making the impact even more unreal.

In the past, he only needed to worry about his school grades and his daily meals. Now, when he looked at the busy people in the distance, he couldn’t help but feel fear from the depths of his heart.

…Smoke had endured for so long, and Shu Jun’s heart twisted in pain.

Smoke had come that night and was discovered by his family. The people from <Erosion> definitely wouldn’t want the players to uncover the truth. Smoke had essentially betrayed them, and he would probably face punishment. It seemed unlikely that they would see each other again.

He knew things he shouldn’t know. If he acted too obvious or told others about this matter… Setting aside whether others would believe him, everyone might end up being dealt with.

Perhaps this was the most logical outcome. Smoke would disappear, like a cluster of fireworks in his life. And he would embrace this terrible secret, pretending to be ignorant, slowly seeking a way out, or simply resigning himself to fate.

…Pretending? Resigning?

He couldn’t pretend, and he couldn’t resign.

He was powerless to change the reality, and Smoke, who was born on the “other side”, was being crushed by guilt.

He was too weak now, unable to save his fellow compatriots. But he still had the power to save the most important person to him.

Knowing that this world was fake made many things easier. Shu Jun looked at the luxurious hotel building and had an idea in his mind.

He wouldn’t accept this separation.

The simulation test was held on campus. The test consisted of individual simulated combat and tactical planning. For children, monster projections and miniature sand tables were enough. The school didn’t have examination rooms set up inside <Erosion>.

Shu Jun put on the ability simulation wristband, and the examiner activated it. According to the rules, he was supposed to enter the combat room next and fight against the monster projection.

However, Shu Jun smiled at the examiner and soared into the sky.

This was the “game” here, and the so-called “ability simulation” wristband was a real skill item. And theoretically, this wristband could be used outside the simulation. So, he would make good use of it.

Ignoring the angry shouts of the examiner, Shu Jun flew towards the hotel in the city center.

The V4 area was on the top floor of the hotel, offering a magnificent view with beautiful large windows. Shu Jun floated in the air and looked into the window.

His Smoke was standing on the other side of the window. After not seeing each other for more than ten days, Smoke had become gaunt, his once solid body had become thin again. He looked at Shu Jun in astonishment, and his eyes still showed signs of swelling.

Shu Jun could hear the alarms getting closer. He took a deep breath and smiled at Smoke.

“A’Yan, stand back.”

As Smoke took a few steps back, a gust of wind shot out, shattering the glass.

“Shu Jun, you…”

“Let’s go.” Shu Jun helped Smoke up onto the broken window frame. “I’ll take you away.”

Smoke shook his head vigorously. “My father already knows about you. I… I begged him. If you continue like this, you’ll—”

Shu Jun smiled.

He reached out and grabbed Smoke’s wrist. The wind gathered between his body and the wall, propelling him away from the window.

Once the skill was activated, it couldn’t be stopped immediately. The wind pushed Shu Jun out of the city, his pale-faced dear friend hanging from his wrist. The two flew in the air above the city, with numerous tracking devices following them from behind, each one shot down by Shu Jun’s wind blades.

The remaining trackers began to counterattack, and searing beams of light pierced through Shu Jun’s body. His student uniform became soaked with blood, but Shu Jun only gritted his teeth, his eyes always looking ahead, without letting out a scream of pain.

Afraid of releasing Smoke in the midst of the pain, Shu Jun wrapped his arm around Yanchen’s waist, holding him tighter.

“Stop messing around,” Smoke shouted in anger. “Stop it now!”

“I know. If I let go of you, you’ll run away… Smoke, what did you beg for?”

“…”

“Tell me.” Shu Jun took another blow, gasping for air in pain.

“My father asked me to choose.” Smoke averted his gaze as if centuries had passed. “As long as you don’t make a big fuss, he can erase your memories about me and the truth… I can also choose to take you out, as he put it, to be a ‘pet’ kept at home.”

He squeezed the words out between his teeth.

“Your wind ability is powerful, and he wants to keep it. He will choose an inferior body that he doesn’t need and stuff your consciousness into it.”

“Oh, so you’ve reached that point already.” Shu Jun smiled stiffly as he swiftly turned in the air, dodging several beams of light. One beam pierced through the sole of his foot, causing great pain.

But he had never been so clear-headed.

“So, which one did you choose?” he asked.

Smoke reached out and covered his eyes. “You can guess.”

Shu Jun sighed and kissed the top of his head. “Yeah, I can guess.”

“But I don’t want to choose either one.” Smoke’s body trembled slightly. “I—”

“That’s fine. At least we still have time to say goodbye.” Shu Jun grinned. “I also know what you’re thinking. If it were me, I would feel the same… A’Yan, you made the right choice. If I were to become your pet, I would end up hating you sooner or later… I don’t want to hate you.”

He suddenly accelerated and left all the trackers behind. With the wind pressing against them, Smoke buried his face in Shu Jun’s neck, still crying silently, with more and more tears.

“If only I were stronger…” he whispered softly.

“We’re here,” Shu Jun interrupted him.

Smoke raised his head and stood still in place.

Shu Jun flew all the way outside the city, easily bypassing the ground checkpoints and headed towards the garden outside that only adult players had access to.

The flower fields stretched endlessly, adorned with numerous round glass domes. Shu Jun landed on the highest dome, arms wide open. The surrounding flowers swayed gently, their sweet and refreshing colors colliding with each other. Thin mist spread along the ground. Against the transparent blue sky and fragrant breeze, the scene in front of them resembled a paradise.

It was a sight that could never exist in <Erosion>.

“We had agreed to come here together when we grow up,” Shu Jun wiped the blood from his mouth. “But now it seems our time is limited… It looks like you really didn’t deceive me; this world is indeed not very real.”

Smoke had “Human Protection”, but he didn’t. Those tracking devices nearly turned Shu Jun into a sieve, causing him to bleed profusely, yet he felt no sense of weakness, only waves of pain.

It was irrefutable evidence.

“You are the most important person to me. I want to bid you a proper farewell.” Seeing Smoke remain silent, he continued.

Smoke sat on the glass dome, staring blankly at the blossoming flowers around him, then at Shu Jun’s battered body covered in blood. Shu Jun’s blood had splattered all over him, and he seemed stunned by reality, unable to say anything.

“Don’t you hate me?”

After a moment, Smoke cautiously confirmed, his voice trembling.

“I’ve known about these things for a long time. I’ve been hiding them from you… Don’t you hate me?”

“Of course I do. You should have told me earlier.” Shu Jun sat down in front of him, his blood dripping down the glass dome. “Although I understand that you must have had your reasons—if only you had told me earlier, you wouldn’t have suffered alone for so long.”

“You…”

“You haven’t done anything, have you?”

“You don’t understand!” This time, Smoke didn’t hide his tearful voice. “I… I’ve been studying—studying hard recently. But the more I study, the clearer it becomes to me that I can’t save you, Shu Jun. I don’t have enough time to save you!”

The rustling of the flower leaves enveloped them, creating a soothing sound. The pain that had accumulated for a long time broke open a point, bursting out from the cracks.

“Even if I… If I stop eating, stop sleeping, and I’m a once-in-a-millennium genius, I still… still can’t save you. I can only access advanced equipment when I become an adult, but my father won’t allow me to focus on studying them. I won’t have the support of a formal team… There’s too much to research. At the current pace, it’s impossible to complete within one generation… Why are we almost the same age? I don’t have enough time…”

Smoke’s voice seemed to carry a hint of blood as he slowly clenched his hand on the glass dome.

“…I can’t save you…”

“A’Yan,” Shu Jun reached out his bloodstained hand and wiped away Smoke’s tears, smudging his own face even more. “On the night of the Reunion Festival, you asked me, ‘If everyone tells you it’s right, but you feel something is off, what would you do?'”

Smoke choked up, nodding.

“I want to give a different answer now.” Shu Jun blinked hard, trying not to burst into tears. “If you think the player system isn’t good, it’s already remarkable as long as you can persist in your own beliefs.”

He tried to make his voice sound lighthearted.

“It’s okay if you can’t save me. If Xu Kan can strive for so long, I’m sure I can too. So, let’s make a promise.”

“What…?”

“I promise you.” Shu Jun raised his blood-soaked pinky finger. “What you’ve taught me, I’ve engraved it in my bones. They are mine now. Even if I forget you, I’ll keep winning. This way, even if I can’t be with you, I’ll try to stay with you for as long as possible, okay?”

“You… You haven’t seen the battlefield. You can’t guarantee…”

“If I achieve it. I’ll keep on living.” Smoke suppressed the sourness in his eyes once again. “As an exchange, don’t forget about me, and don’t forget your current mindset. Be good to my friends at school, to my brothers and sisters in the team… When you grow up, for my sake, be kind to them. Okay?”

“You can’t keep winning forever.” Smoke wiped his tears haphazardly. “I can’t reach a high position either.”

“Come on, let’s pinky promise.” Shu Jun raised his voice. “Stop talking nonsense. You’re the most handsome and formidable person I’ve ever seen. You will definitely become an extraordinary individual.”

Smoke remained silent for a long time, until the shadows of the guard trackers appeared on the horizon.

He reached out with his cold and trembling hand, gently hooked his pinky with Shu Jun’s. “Alright, this is your promise to me…”

His voice trembled even more. “You will never lose.”

“We’ve bid farewell properly.” Shu Jun held on, taking a deep breath. “I’ve said everything I wanted to say. At least… At least there are no regrets.”

The guard trackers were getting closer and closer.

His heart pounded frantically in pain. ‘Not like this,’ Shu Jun thought. It wasn’t what he wanted to say. He—

Smoke made a move.

“Do you know?” His voice still choked, as a cold hand gently caressed Shu Jun’s face. “My teacher told me that if you leave behind a huge… A huge emotional impact, maybe you’ll remember a bit about me.”

He leaned in closer, awkwardly leaning his body forward, and kissed Shu Jun’s cheek.

[Our teacher said that a kiss means ‘like’.]

[A kiss on the cheek means ‘like’.]

Something exploded in Shu Jun’s chest, and he could no longer maintain a smiling face. He tightly embraced Smoke, holding onto him tightly.

“I like you too!” He cried out loud. “Can you not leave? I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to forget you.”

He held onto the other person with all his strength, crying with tears and snot covering his face.

“I don’t want to forget you, A’Yan—”

Then his world plunged into complete darkness. It wasn’t the void of nothingness, but genuine darkness. When he woke up again, he was faced with a makeup test for the school’s simulation examination.

Since that day, he had forgotten the most special person in his life.

Now, he had finally found that person again.

Blood and gruesome scenes continued to swirl in his mind, and Shu Jun couldn’t feel his own body. Memories fell back into place, and his body completely shattered, dissolving into the Erosion Swamp. His thoughts no longer operated like those of a human, his brain seemed to be spread out, and his body merged with everything. He extended his “body”, and his soul floated like a drunken bubble, light and airy. Despair and hatred turned into an exhilarating thrill. Shu Jun had never felt so at ease.

The former nightmares solidified into reality, accompanied by whispers of despair and hatred that flooded his ears.

No, perhaps that wasn’t a nightmare; maybe it was himself as well. Ever since he destroyed the other two Erosion Swamps and transformed into an Erosion Swamp himself, many instinctive-like messages flooded in. In the center of the pitch-black vortex, a voice without sound grew louder and louder.

This is your rebirth, and you can become anything. Just like Sweet Edge or the Mirror Erosion Swamp, you can obtain a completely new form—a powerful form.

If you make the right choice, you can destroy Sigma, destroy everything—eliminate all enemies, and exist in this comfortable form eternally.

Dipped in intense hatred, this proposal was indeed tempting. However, he could feel the temperature of another person; Zhu Yanchen’s temperature was dropping. He knelt in the cold Erosion Swamp, just as desperate as when they parted ways.

“That’s a tempting proposition.”

He answered decisively.

“But I prefer my original self—things would be troublesome if I can’t hold the person I love.”

The black, withered hands on Zhu Yanchen gradually merged and twisted. The Erosion Swamp surged and transformed into human bones, skin, and then clothing. Shu Jun opened his arms and tightly embraced Zhu Yanchen.

The heavy negative emotions made him feel a bit dizzy, and the returning memories stabbed his chest. In the process of regaining his form, Shu Jun had thought of countless long speeches, but after embracing Zhu Yanchen, he couldn’t say a single word.

He sighed, lowered his head, and firmly kissed Zhu Yanchen’s lips.

---

Kinky Thoughts:

I ugly cried this chapter.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 62: The Final Promise – Part 1

As the sky grew completely dark, the ground was covered with black erosion. A sense of gloom enveloped the world, and Zhu Yanchen remained motionless, his body paralyzed from the cold.

It felt as though only his consciousness was floating in a sea of darkness.

The carousel of his adult life played day after day, and he could only think of the past—the past sixteen years ago—the only colorful period in his life.

For as long as Zhu Yanchen could remember, his mother had been bedridden most of the time. Her face was often pale, and a worrying sickness lingered in her expression, which kept her from speaking and conversing. Their occasional moments of interaction were also fleeting. She wouldn’t praise him; most of the time, she simply gazed out of the window, lost in her own thoughts.

His father seldom visited his mother. With an age difference of over twenty years, their encounters felt like forced acts, greetings as stiff as those between strangers. Even as a young as he was, he could sense the absence of any affection between his parents, and he soon understood the meaning of a “political marriage”.

He had an elder brother, an academically accomplished individual, so he lived like a shadow, insignificant and irrelevant. Zhu Yanchen attempted to find companionship among peers, but considering safety concerns, he couldn’t mingle with commoners. In the eyes of others, he was just an ordinary young master with mediocre talent and negligible importance. He could enjoy momentary liveliness, but forging lasting friendships was impossible—Zhu Sheng was always stern and never granted any special treatment to his family.

Until the age of twelve, Zhu Yanchen almost believed he was invisible. The routine was monotonous: ordinary meals every day, spending some time with his reticent mother, studying regular subjects, and finally retiring to his bedroom. A fixed and mundane cycle.

Zhu Yanchen could see his own future. The Zhu family would take care of him, and he would eventually become a useless and aimless wastrel.

This wasn’t just his speculation. He had overheard servants gossiping, listened to whispers from strangers, and heard murmurs from peers—

Occasionally, Zhu Yanchen was taken to social gatherings. Children were the worst at concealing their feelings, and although others pretended to play along, their boredom and disdain were unmistakable. Their gaze would slide down his nose and pierce into his chest at an angle.

He didn’t understand the “elite” courses at the military school, nor did he possess any remarkable talents. He couldn’t even take care of himself properly. His body was weak from a lack of exercise, and his limited interactions rendered him taciturn. The label of “boring” covered his entire being.

The privileged children who graduated from the military school were always most interested in combat. Zhu Yanchen had no interest in engaging in conversations tainted with bloodshed, nor did he comprehend the pleasure of manipulating synthetic humans. Consequently, beside the “boring” label, another one was added: “cowardly”.

Until he met Shu Jun.

Perhaps Shu Jun would never know just how much brightness his affirmation had brought—Shu Jun didn’t care about who his father was, and at such a young age, he flirted with death, fought monsters, and never flattered anyone.

[You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met in the world!]

Just by himself?

But that person spoke with absolute certainty, his voice filled with a clean laughter.

A few months later, Xia Jing’s illness worsened. As her foster mother, Lu Lu couldn’t bear to see her suffer. She dug into her private funds and obtained a hibernation pod, using an old method from two hundred years ago—to send someone to the “other side”, only temporarily disconnecting during treatment to escape the pain.

It was unknown how the old lady discovered this method.

Lu Lu was once a popular national singer. After marrying into the Xia family, she stopped performing, but her influence remained, and Zhu Sheng tacitly approved of her actions. Xia Jing didn’t refuse; she only made one request—to have her son, Zhu Yanchen, visit her regularly.

Zhu Yanchen obediently complied. Little did he know that his life would take a different turn from that point on.

He encountered Shu Jun again.

Contrary to his expectations, his mother didn’t object to their interaction. In this world, she too would gaze at the blue sky outside the window, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

From that moment on, he grasped onto the light.

Shu Jun’s feelings for him were pure and fervent, and Zhu Yanchen could feel it. This synthetic human was just as lonely as he was, but compared to himself, Shu Jun burned with even more intensity.

That person remembered every wish he had made, every small disappointment and joy. Whenever his stolen glances were discovered, the response he received was always a smile.

Zhu Yanchen wished he could continue living in that apartment forever.

After getting to know Shu Jun, he intentionally sought out knowledge about synthetic humans. Zhu Sheng’s heart was with his eldest son, and he rarely concerned himself with the life of his second son, which conveniently provided Zhu Yanchen with opportunities. He used his saved allowance to bribe his private tutor and obtained several textbooks used in military schools.

These were meant for seven- or eight-year-old newcomers, which Zhu Yanchen had never seen before, likely intercepted by his mother. He sneaked into his bed and read them one page at a time with a flashlight, growing more and more amazed as he went along.

For seven- or eight-year-old children, parents never lied, and the words in books were truth. But in this textbook, synthetic humans were explicitly labeled as “animal-like weapons”—

…”Synthetic humans” are artificially cultivated synthetic beasts with high intelligence and special abilities. Their lifespan is short, and they are incapable of reproducing. However, due to the current limitations in technology, their appearance is similar to that of humans. They are carefully guarded and maintained in border outposts and usually don’t come into contact with civilians, causing little disturbance. Civilians have limited knowledge about them, and due to their unique nature, it is best to keep them isolated from civilians… 

…Synthetic humans have designated activity towns, which are “special sites” constructed by the United Government. The “residents” there have all received proper training…

This was a textbook intended for high-ranking reserves. Zhu Yanchen clenched the paper tightly, almost forgetting to breathe. The words were neatly arranged, and between the lines, the “logic” was apparent.

This was rational.

Humans had to defend their loved ones and reclaim their world. Their compatriots no longer needed to be sacrificed; they just needed to guard the truth from the civilians. On the other hand, synthetic humans weren’t mistreated. They were cared for by specialists and provided with mental relaxation, and their living conditions surpassed those of most residents in populated areas.

This was reasonable; humans had been doing it this way for two hundred years.

Zhu Yanchen bit down on the corner of his bedding, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Back then, his mother didn’t want his father to take him to military school, so she hired a private tutor and used regular textbooks. Now, Zhu Yanchen finally understood her intentions.

If he had entered military school, he would likely have taken those beliefs as truths. With his tactical abilities, his father would quickly pay attention to him—his best outcome would probably be becoming his elder brother’s deputy.

And then he would undoubtedly have to make good use of his tactical abilities, commanding synthetic humans to charge into battle. To prevent any mishaps, the education regarding his “racial difference” would only become stronger and more thorough.

Zhu Yanchen climbed down from his bed and stumbled into the bathroom, retching for a long time.

For some reason, his mother left him with a path. She wanted him to remain blank and to see for himself.

…But it was too heavy, and Zhu Yanchen felt lost. Like most ordinary people, the existence of synthetic humans was just a distant and vague concept, but Shu Jun brought that concept right in front of him, and he couldn’t close his eyes to it.

Soon after, the Reunion Festival arrived.

For the first time, Zhu Yanchen saw the clear sky filled with countless stars and fireworks blooming in the night. And for the first time in front of Shu Jun, he burst into tears.

The next day, he went to see his mother.

His mother was a beauty and used to play the piano well. Now she lay half-reclined in an illusory world, her skin clinging to her bones, gazing blankly at the birds flying outside the window.

“You can’t tell that child the truth.” Xia Jing didn’t look at her son.

“Why?”

“I’ve done something foolish like that before,” she said lightly. “Once your father discovers it, he will dispose of your friend.”

“But I don’t want to hide it from him.” Zhu Yanchen’s voice was slightly hoarse from crying most of the night.

His mother smiled. “It seems you have your own judgment about that system?”

“…Mom, I’m sorry. I read relevant books without permission.”

“And what do you think?” Xia Jing didn’t respond to the apology.

“I don’t know.” Zhu Yanchen sounded confused. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Unfortunately, nobody knows.” Xia Jing turned her head, her emaciated face somewhat alarming. “I wasn’t expecting you to do anything, Yanchen. I just wanted you to see.”

A black bird flew across the blue sky, and she fell silent for a long time.

“To you, I’m not a good mother, I know.” She spoke randomly, without any context. “I’m sorry.”

Then she lay back down and closed her eyes. “I need to rest now. Number 6 will come in to take care of me. Go and see him.”

The second hand shakily reached the top of the hour, and NPC “Number 6”, dressed as a servant, walked into the room. She skillfully drew the curtains and adjusted the room temperature. Finally, she turned her head and smiled at Zhu Yanchen. “I’ll see you off later. You can wait outside for now.”

Zhu Yanchen couldn’t find the answers he sought from his mother, and he stood frozen in place.

The weight of an unsolvable reality pressed down on him, causing a pain in his chest. He was too young, and there wasn’t much he could do… But he couldn’t do nothing. Whether it was for the bigger picture or the world, at that moment, he couldn’t comprehend such complex matters. He only wanted to do one thing—find a way to tell Shu Jun the truth without anyone discovering it.

On that day, Zhu Yanchen left the hibernation pod and, for the first time, contacted his father’s assistant. He requested to add a course specifically focused on synthetic humans to his curriculum, intending to “catch up”.

This time, his mother didn’t give him a hard time.

However, the system was so complex that everything he had learned previously barely scratched the surface, and he couldn’t understand most of it. Nevertheless, he restrained his instinct to withdraw and forced himself to keep listening.

If he couldn’t understand, he would memorize; if he couldn’t comprehend, he would learn. Zhu Yanchen no longer passively accepted all arrangements and no longer questioned whether he had any talent. He started putting pressure on himself—almost all his time outside the hibernation pod was devoted to studying.

It was the only solution he could think of.

By doing so, he would be able to face Shu Jun calmly after entering the “other side”.

Countless nights, he couldn’t sleep, and he could only hold Shu Jun tightly in his arms, his mind filled with those difficult and incomprehensible knowledge. Whenever he embraced him, Shu Jun remained obedient, and his sleeping face carried a smile.

“Good night.” Before succumbing to sleep, he would always secretly kiss the top of Shu Jun’s head.

Zhu Yanchen once thought that if they continued living like this for a few more years, there might be a turning point. But their separation came unexpectedly soon.

Not long after the Reunion Festival, his half-brother, born of a different mother, was ruthlessly assassinated. At the time of the incident, his elder brother’s wife, their newborn child, and the whole family were in the car. Zhu Sheng changed his plans at the last minute and narrowly escaped the attack.

His elder brother was ten years older than him and rarely stayed at home. During the few times they met, he never spoke a word to Zhu Yanchen, and the difference between the two brothers was no different from that of strangers. Zhu Yanchen didn’t feel much emotional impact from his death.

He only felt the horror—this was the world he was about to step into.

But he had no other choice.

That night, Zhu Yanchen held Shu Jun tightly, almost waking him up.

The impact of this tragedy went beyond that. After losing his eldest son and grandson on the same day, Zhu Sheng once again turned his attention to this “incompetent” son. Zhu Yanchen’s efforts during this period didn’t go unnoticed by Zhu Sheng.

“Not bad,” Zhu Sheng said, his tone somewhat rigid. Compared to their last encounter, his hair had turned half-white. “It’s good to have the drive to study. Your mother is seriously ill, and your presence won’t make a difference. Come with me.”

Zhu Yanchen didn’t lower his head. For the first time, he met his father’s gaze, shaking his head firmly. Zhu Sheng dismissed it as a child clinging to his mother and didn’t force him.

After that, Zhu Yanchen had a particularly bad premonition—that his time spent with Shu Jun might not be much longer.

But he never expected that everything would come to a halt so tragically.

…That was the darkest period of his life.

Zhu Yanchen’s long-term efforts paid off, and in just six months, he managed to learn the entire college curriculum of the military academy.

“During the initial production phase of synthetic humans, specific brain chips are implanted. They are sensitive to certain facts and can trigger trauma stress responses, causing synthetic humans to autonomously avoid specific facts. Once they become aware of the existence of the ‘player system’, they will spontaneously forget. We refer to this phenomenon as ‘brain shock’…”

“Teacher, is this method foolproof?”

“Not necessarily. There have been individuals in history who were insensitive to brain shocks. Even ordinary individuals, when subjected to intense emotional shocks, may retain some impressions. To achieve a foolproof outcome, the supporting facilities must be complete. Brain shocks serve as the final defense line, and the best practice is to prevent synthetic humans from accessing sensitive information…”

Zhu Yanchen kept a straight face, exerting all his effort to remain expressionless. “Intense emotional shocks?”

“The human brain has its limits when it comes to shocks. When two powerful shocks come successively, it cannot properly handle them all. As for brain shocks…”

“Does the effectiveness of brain shocks depend on age?” Zhu Yanchen continued his questioning.

“It seems you’re quite interested in this topic.” The teacher wasn’t annoyed and just pushed up his glasses. “Younger individuals have a greater acceptance capacity compared to adults. Their understanding of reality is not as profound, so they might ‘not be able to react to what happened’. The effectiveness of brain shocks takes longer to manifest and has fewer side effects.”

“So… do brain shocks only occur in the real world or…?”

“What kind of questions are these?” The instructing teacher laughed. “‘The other side consists only of synthetic humans, and they certainly won’t know the truth out of thin air. To better simulate the five senses, the hibernation pod has a certain influence on their thoughts. As long as a person is in ‘the other side’, brain shocks won’t occur.”

“I understand.” Zhu Yanchen bit the end of his pen. “Thank you.”

He had to seize the opportunity while they could still meet in “the other side” and tell Shu Jun about this matter.

But every time Shu Jun greeted him with a smile, Zhu Yanchen couldn’t bring himself to speak. What would be Shu Jun’s reaction after he revealed the truth? Would he despair? Would he hate him? Would he never smile like that again?

Day after day, Zhu Yanchen studied almost masochistically in the real world. When he arrived in the other side and saw Shu Jun eagerly talking about the upcoming “simulation test”, the prepared words decayed in his heart.

Just one more day, then another day. That was what he told himself.

His father waited for him to be enrolled in the school, and his mother, lost in a coma due to illness, was his only remaining source of warmth.

“A’Yan, look at this!” Shu Jun showed him a peculiar-looking wristband. “If I wear this, I can simulate the abilities in <Erosion>.  A’Yan, let me tell you, my abilities are extraordinary! If not for the restrictions outside school…”

He put on the wristband and gestured energetically. “I can even fly!”

A pang of pain struck Zhu Yanchen’s heart. “Mm.”

“When we grow up, I promise I’ll take you flying. A’Yan, by the way, tomorrow…”

“I have something important to tell you tomorrow.” Taking a deep breath, Zhu Yanchen forced himself to speak as he looked at Shu Jun’s expectant face.

“Ah? Okay.”

Shu Jun scrutinized his expression once again.

“A’Yan… If there’s something that’s making you unhappy, you must tell me.”

“…Mm.”

The next day, in the guest room of the command center, Zhu Yanchen was mentally prepared. Just as he stepped into the hibernation pod with one foot, the nanny pulled him out in a nervous state.

“Don’t go. Your mother is in trouble,” she said anxiously.

Zhu Yanchen’s heart sank.

Things were different from what he had imagined—his mother was still alive, or rather, she was too “alive”. Recently, his mother had fallen into a coma, spending nearly 24 hours inside the hibernation pod. During this period, his mother should have been in “the other side”.

But now she had awakened, her face filled with confusion, screaming loudly in pain.

“It’s said that the hibernation pod opened on its own, and Miss Xia woke up by herself.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“She says she’s not Miss Xia, but someone named ‘Number 6’ who came to meet Young Master Zhu…”

“What a mess?!”

“Miss Xia’s condition… Her condition is abnormal. I can’t find anyone. Miss Xia… she logs into the game <Erosion> every day, and I just… I just wanted to find out how Yanchen would react.” Number 6, wearing Xia Jing’s body, choked with effort. “Why… Why does it hurt so much—”

Her cries were so loud that they could be heard clearly outside the door.

“Shh, the leader is here.”

“What’s going on?”

“Mr. Zhu, your wife… Your wife’s condition is extremely unusual. She has fallen into a deep coma, and it seems that the appearance from ‘the other side’ has undergone a change. The NPCs from ‘the other side’ follow emergency protocols and are trying to find Zhu Yanchen as the contact person. It temporarily bypassed the restrictions and used the hibernation pod from ‘the other side’. Now, it… um…”

“In simple terms, the artificial program has taken control of Xia Jing’s body.”

“Yes… that’s correct. We didn’t expect such a situation to occur. We deeply apologize.”

“Hm.” Zhu Sheng fell silent for a few seconds. He turned his head and saw Zhu Yanchen standing among the confused crowd. Then he took a few steps forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It seems you have some luck.” His father, who seldom smiled, made such a comment. “This is an unprecedented breakthrough, Yanchen. If a properly trained program can replace the ‘original consciousness’, we no longer need to resort to brain shocks and such.”

“This is the good fortune you brought. It seems the security of the player system will be further enhanced.”

For a moment, Zhu Yanchen didn’t know which matter to despair about.

Was it his mother’s worsening condition? Was it his father’s tone when talking about his mother?

Was it because he hesitated to leave “the other side” for too long that the player system was further advanced? Zhu Yanchen was no longer ignorant—he now knew that if research in this area succeeded, synthetic humans would not only die in lies, they might even be replaced by NPC programs much earlier due to their “incompatible personalities”.

He took a deep breath, broke free from his father’s grip, and turned to run.

He couldn’t do anything about his mother while his father was there. But when it came to “the other side”, there was something he could do—

He had to see Shu Jun.

With a bitter smile on his face, the Zhu Yanchen in reality grimaced at himself as he remembered the figure stumbling into the darkness.

Perhaps from that day onwards, everything became irreversible. He could feel the damp and cold erosion material crawling up his chest. He sighed, interrupted the memory, and released the gun from his hand.

They couldn’t overcome the blood-soaked mountains and seas of these two hundred years. If this was the ending, it was fine to end it like this.

But as he cleared his mind and waited for a long time, the expected pain didn’t come. His body became lighter, the pain in his chest disappeared, along with all his other pain. His feet tingled as if it was thawing by a warm hearth. Zhu Yanchen quickly realized that his wounds were healing—everything was…

Incredibly warm.

Those peculiar and clumsy hands wrapped around him, just like an embrace.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 61: Persistence

This land was particularly desolate, and not even a trace of mutated plants could be seen. The Vine Erosion Swamp rampaged through, leaving behind a ground full of dark and rotten mud.

The sky was always covered by thick clouds, making the day as dark as twilight during a heavy rainstorm, and the night was pitch-black, with no visibility. As the day slowly faded, looking from this point to the surroundings, the entire planet seemed to have died, quietly decaying.

Between heaven and earth, there was only one unnatural giant sphere. The Vine Erosion Swamp absorbed all light, constantly wriggling on its surface.

After Shu Jun threw Monday out of the Vine Erosion Swamp, it let out a long, miserable scream and was nailed into the muddy ground outside the Erosion Swamp. The damp soil was flipped over, then melted back into the earth like cream.

Once Shu Jun entered the Erosion Swamp sphere, Zhu Yanchen never relaxed for a moment. When he saw Monday appear, he immediately approached.

“Shu… dan… ger.” Monday struggled to speak; each word paused in between. It had a simple mind but a natural sensitivity to hostility.

Following Shu Jun, it had food and drink and lived quite comfortably. Although it couldn’t move, it passed its days carefree. Once it lost the protection of Shu Jun, a powerful member of its kind, it would return to the environment of survival of the fittest.

Monday absolutely didn’t want to be devoured.

“Hand…” it shouted at Zhu Yanchen, trying its best to express what it saw. “Hand!”

Zhu Yanchen attempted to touch the hilt of his sword. The erosion substance evasively avoided his touch, and he could only manage to barely lift it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t firmly grip the sword.

“Zhu, save! Save… him!” Monday continued with difficulty.

“Mm,” Zhu Yanchen responded softly.

He was well aware of Shu Jun’s abilities. Shu Jun possessed the “Creation” obtained from Sweet Edge and the innate “Suppression”, making conventional physical attacks ineffective. On the other hand, Shu Jun threw his only weapon as a warning rather than trying to solve the situation himself, indicating that Shu Jun must have made a judgment about the circumstances.

Within the Vine Erosion Swamp, there was a high possibility of a trap. An Erosion Swamp wouldn’t possess two different abilities, so it must have hidden another Erosion Swamp—a small Erosion Swamp that carried a wealth of negative information.

Whether it turned Shu Jun into a second Luo Duan or simply made him have a mental breakdown, Sigma would benefit. And once Shu Jun lost control mentally, regardless of whether he could recover or not, Zhu Yanchen, as a human, would become the first sacrifice.

Shu Jun’s intention was probably a warning for Zhu Yanchen to leave quickly and seek support and countermeasures.

Zhu Yanchen revealed a smile.

He lifted Monday and placed it in a safe location, then proceeded to unload all his weapons one by one. Marshal Zhu had many straps entwined around him, and he carefully untied them, hanging them on Monday to prevent the weapons from coming into contact with the erosion-rich soil. The series of actions was swift and decisive.

Finally, Zhu Yanchen tightened his face mask, covering his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

At this moment, he was left with a tidy uniform, a purification gun, and a dagger coated with anti-erosion material.

Zhu Yanchen stood silently before the Erosion Swamp, taking a moment before stepping forward. Immediately, several vines attempted to constrict his body but slid away due to the erosion substance instinctive resistance to his erosion. There were too many obstacles within the Vine Erosion Swamp, preventing the vines from stabbing him with their speed, leaving them momentarily unable to deal with him.

However, despite the resistance of the erosion substance, the vines struggled to move, exerting great force to squeeze him, attempting to push this foreign entity out of its body.

The Erosion Swamp had truly become a veritable Erosion Swamp, making it difficult to make any progress within. Fortunately, the structure of the vines left enough gaps, allowing Zhu Yanchen to adjust his breathing and tighten his grip on the dagger.

He severed the erosion vine that came at him, allowing it to flow over his uniform fabric and coldly brush against his skin.

“Shu Jun!” Zhu Yanchen raised his voice, but inside the Erosion Swamp, the light was dim, and there was only the sound of moist friction.

No answer.

The vines rushed at him frantically, gradually draining his strength. Zhu Yanchen mechanically raised his hand, relentlessly severing the vines without stopping for a moment. He became a human wedge, forcefully pushing himself deeper.

His boots were torn off, and his feet stepped on the wriggling erosion. Seeing that piercing wasn’t effective, the vines formed into fist-sized lumps and began to strike him with inertia. Zhu Yanchen calculated the distance and moved forward step by step.

To fully restrain Shu Jun, at least during this period of time, the Erosion Swamp’s brain wouldn’t act recklessly.

He wanted to take that person back.

Another wave of intense pain struck as one of his ribs was shattered. Marshal Zhu coughed up blood, and his actions became more ferocious. His muscles gradually grew weak, a piercing pain like a stab to the heart radiated from his chest, and his feet had lost sensation.

Unfortunately, he was accustomed to this level of pain long ago.

This human wedge slowly penetrated deeper, its speed showing no signs of slowing down. In front of him could be his unconscious comrade or a maddened reaper. Zhu Yanchen was well aware that he was making an extremely risky decision.

If he bet correctly, he would find a way to bring Shu Jun back home. If he bet wrongly, the world would ultimately perish, and he would be among the first casualties.

Time passed, and Zhu Yanchen began to feel that the dagger was too slow. His other hand also reached out. The vines pierced through his gloves, injuring his fingers, and the blood stained the white gloves a dark red.

Finally, he grasped a human hand. The slippery blood on his hand almost caused him to lose his grip.

That hand was as cold as the Erosion Swamp’s vines, tainted with grayish-white brain of erosion substance.

“Shu Jun.” He coughed out a bit of blood, but his voice was as calm as ever.

That hand remained motionless. Zhu Yanchen reversed his grip and held the wrist of that hand, confirming the faint pulse. Then, using his weakened arm, he wielded the dagger, attempting to forcefully dig him out.

Throughout the entire process, Zhu Yanchen tightly held onto that cold hand, pressing it against his chest.

He had no reason to release him again.

As if sensing the warmth of a human, that hand moved slightly. The next second, all the Erosion Swamp’s vines around them ceased their movements. Zhu Yanchen’s actions stalled for a half-second due to this anomaly, but in the next moment, he continued to hack away, exposing Shu Jun’s bare arms.

“We’re going back.” Zhu Yanchen wiped the blood from his mouth and grabbed hold of the arm covered in erosion substance.

Judging from the structure of the erosion vines, he should be able to pull Shu Jun out. However, Shu Jun seemed to have fused with the erosion vines. Zhu Yanchen pulled with determination, but Shu Jun’s body remained motionless. Fearful of injuring Shu Jun, Zhu Yanchen extended his hand once again to deal with the seemingly endless vines.

The pain and coldness became distant, and his eyes were fixed on the sole target.

How many hours had he been inside? There was no trace of light left in the crevices of the vines. The dense erosion substance pressed against him from all sides, as if he were underwater. The erosion-resistant coating on the dagger had worn off, leaving the blade pitted and requiring twice the effort to cut through the black vines. Shu Jun’s hand seemed slightly warmer, and it took Zhu Yanchen a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t due to Shu Jun’s body temperature recovering, but rather his own body temperature gradually dropping.

He imagined the warmth of the sun, the fireplace in the room, and the rising steam from the teapot. He imagined Shu Jun’s face, which had been close to his not long ago, and the breath that had been the most intimate thing he had ever touched.

If he let go and Shu Jun didn’t wake up in time… Shu Jun would be taken away. The hope of others would be taken away, and his own hope would also vanish.

Zhu Yanchen didn’t want to experience such a separation a second time.

Finally, the erosion substance around them began to move again, but this time, the movement was extremely unnatural—the erosion vines were collapsing.

Zhu Yanchen once again tugged at the arm. This time, he had no intention of pulling Shu Jun towards him but instead dragged himself closer. In the midst of the collapsing erosion substance, he hooked his arm around Shu Jun’s waist, pressing him against his chest. Then, he drew his gun and wildly fired above their heads, purifying the erosion substance to prevent them from being crushed by large pieces of it.

Within the crumbling darkness, Shu Jun appeared like an ice sculpture.

The erosion vines intertwined and were surprisingly soft, allowing them to have a soft landing. The residual light illuminated the surroundings, allowing Zhu Yanchen to finally see the appearance of the person in his arms.

Behind Shu Jun, there were segments of pitch-black bones that looked like insect limbs or skeletal remains of rotting wings. They softly lay on the ground, shuttling among the collapsing vines, emitting a chilling sucking sound.

The skin on Shu Jun’s back had also been dyed pitch-black, and his limbs had transformed into a texture similar to erosion substance. Zhu Yanchen embraced him tightly, feeling more erosion substance slide down from his chest, mixing with his blood and flowing into the Erosion Swamp beneath them.

No, it wasn’t just Shu Jun’s back—Shu Jun’s entire body had turned into pure darkness. From his hair to his limbs, the pitch-black erosion consumed all light. Zhu Yanchen held a silhouette in his arms.

The silhouette began to deform. Limbs and torso gradually merged, turning into a terrifying creature that should only exist in nightmares. It gently wriggled, more like a pre-hatching control exercise than struggling.

Zhu Yanchen didn’t know how Shu Jun had won, and he didn’t even know if the thing in his arms could still be called “Shu Jun”. Embracing this strange entity, an unprecedented fear gripped him, and his primal instincts screamed at him to run.

He didn’t shed tears, tremble, or call out the other person’s name in panic. Zhu Yanchen sat quietly for a few minutes, holding the entity even tighter.

“…Even if it’s a wish from sixteen years ago,” he said. “Birthday wishes should never be spoken aloud.”

The next moment, the creature in his arms violently struggled. Zhu Yanchen didn’t have time to react before it transformed into a liquid and flowed out of his body.

His arms were empty, and only a pure Erosion Swamp remained beneath his knees… or rather, a newly formed Erosion Swamp that hadn’t yet awakened.

The detection device that was originally on Shu Jun’s wrist fell onto Zhu Yanchen’s leg. Soaked in erosion for too long, it had stopped functioning half an hour ago. The characters on it flickered and could disappear at any moment.

[Fusion level: 100%; No signs of life.]

A bit of erosion substance remained in Zhu Yanchen’s palm. He stared at it in a daze and then tightened his grip, trying to keep it. But it crawled along his palm lines and eventually fell into the darkness.

Something cold coiled around him, and Zhu Yanchen lowered his gaze to see black withered hands—one after another, like miniature versions of Sigma, winding around his waist and legs, seemingly targeting his chest and throat.

Boundless exhaustion overwhelmed him.

Another type of pain erupted from deep within his body and then turned into numbness. He knelt in place, like a dead tree.

Zhu Yanchen closed his eyes.

Several hours ago.

Shu Jun was in such agony that he fell unconscious. Memories from the depths of his mind were excavated, and memories from unknown sources were forcefully inserted. Each fragment was soaked in blood and filled with profound despair.

He saw the faces of his fallen comrades, with countless details presented before his eyes. From their usual laughter to the moments of their ignorant deaths. The immense pain and despair poured down, accompanied by even more terrifying external information—they gathered the despair of countless deceased, intertwining the perspectives of the living and the dead into a noose that tightened around his soul.

Billions of undead whispered in his ears, and memories filled with hatred stirred into a vortex. Shu Jun could barely think; his consciousness was like a piece of broken wood in a storm, on the verge of sinking into the depths of the sea.

Compared to that overwhelming despair, his hopes were as fragile as paper.

Could the situation really be salvaged? Even if A’Yan hadn’t betrayed him, could they really find a way to prolong the lifespan of synthetic humans? And if they did, with the current scarce resources, would humanity truly support them regardless of the cost?

This was Luo Duan’s plan, and Shu Jun understood what Luo Duan wanted to convey—

He had ignored these cries, resentments, and anger, leaving behind the balance between humans and synths to pursue an almost impossible miracle. Rather than giving their compatriots unrealistic hope, it was better to embrace a death wish from the beginning and seek the cruelest revenge.

He was the luckiest among the synths, but now his heart was scorched by overwhelming anger and despair.

So what if the world was destroyed? So what if humanity perished? The synths were already doomed, and humans weren’t even considered the same kind. They were no different from the Erosion Swamp… or perhaps even crueler than it.

Nerves were sawed back and forth by hatred, and Shu Jun was on the verge of screaming in agony. The murky emotions transformed into monsters, forcefully dragging and tearing his will elsewhere, almost shattering his consciousness into pieces. Shu Jun gasped in pain, and in his hazy awareness, he heard a piercing alarm coming from his wrist.

…Right, A’Yan had told him. Once the fusion level exceeded 95%, he had to escape.

But he couldn’t move.

The surroundings were as cold as an ice cave, and his brain felt like an inflated balloon about to burst from the venom. He needed a release, anything would do.

Just to make this pain stop.

Shu Jun gritted his teeth, completely losing control of his limbs. The killing intent and madness had also broken free from their restraints. He could feel something emerging from within him, following its instincts and indiscriminately destroying everything.

Those black appendages crushed the small Erosion Swamp in their grip, easily demolishing the Vine Erosion Swamp’s brain. The movements of the strange appendages were fierce, and Shu Jun could feel them—so brutal and destructive that this massacre surpassed even his own direct involvement.

His body was spiraling out of control, and his mind was gradually becoming blurred.

Until he felt a touch of warmth.

Shu Jun couldn’t see anything anymore; he could only sense the sensation of tearing through enemies and the accompanying oppression and pain. But in this ice cave, a small trace of warmth emerged abruptly, causing him to involuntarily pause his actions.

Who is it?

His mind was filled with the screams of the deceased, his hands were full of broken limbs, yet his throbbing brain managed to spit out this question.

“We’re going back,” the person said.

Where was he going back to? His hometown was fake, and so was his family.

But the person’s voice brought a sense of calmness, like an iced potion. Time seemed frozen, and the jumbled memories came to a halt, momentarily distancing themselves from madness. Something new appeared in his mind, not forcefully inserted or forcibly excavated.

It was like seeing a small flower in an endless storm. He stubbornly endured until he reached it, protecting it carefully.

…It reminded him of something from the past.

Sixteen years ago, after the Reunion Festival.

“You had a birthday before the festival, but my extra allowance didn’t come through at that time,” Shu Jun said mysteriously, holding a blindfold in his hands with great solemnity. “Today, it finally came through! I picked out something good for you.”

Smoke examined the blindfold for a moment and then accepted it solemnly. “Thank you. I really like it.”

“…What are you thinking?!” Shu Jun quickly snatched the blindfold back. “Birthday presents should have a bow!”

Smoke smiled a bit reluctantly as he allowed Shu Jun to put the blindfold on him and spin him around a few times.

“This—” Shu Jun pulled Smoke to the balcony and eagerly took off the blindfold. “Look!”

In front of the two children was a giant gift box, with an exaggerated red ribbon tied on top, although the bow was poorly tied and crooked, making it look quite ugly.

“You wrapped it,” Smoke said seriously, “so why did you blindfold me?”

“…You talk too much,” Shu Jun grumbled unhappily. “Quick, open it, open it!”

After the Reunion Festival, it was the first time Shu Jun saw Smoke smile—he chuckled and shook his head, then began to unwrap the large box in front of him.

Inside the box were two small pots of bellflowers, in full bloom. The flowerpots were exquisite and beautiful, and their value was evident at first glance.

“I asked the flower shop owner, and these are the most beautiful ones. They’re different from the ordinary ones; they have a beautiful glow at night.” Shu Jun proudly tilted his head back. “As long as you take care of them, they’ll keep living and blooming every year. Last time, I saw that you really liked this, but since you’re so special, I couldn’t buy you the usual ones… A’Yan?!”

Smoke set down the flowers and hugged them silently. He held them for a long time, and when he released his arms, his eyes were slightly red.

“You’re that moved?” Shu Jun scratched his head in embarrassment. “Um, actually, I planned for us to each have a pot. We can take care of them together and share our experiences of cultivating flowers and such—”

“I can’t keep flowers at home.” Smoke rubbed his eyes and deliberately spoke in a lighter tone. “Can you take care of them for me, for now?”

“Huh? I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Then, let’s forget about it, and I’ll get you some other gifts…”

“No, just this one. I really like it.” Smoke sniffled. “When I… When I grow up and have my own home, I will definitely take them with me. But until then, can you take care of them for me? Is that okay?”

Did this mean they were going to be long-lasting friends? He was truly a genius at choosing gifts. Shu Jun’s mood instantly softened. “Okay, okay, no problem!”

After the Reunion Festival, Shu Jun could sense a change in Smoke. His “big brother” demeanor, which didn’t quite match his actual age, had become much more stable. He no longer had the nervousness and apprehension of the past; he was like a sharpened sword. In return, Smoke became stricter with Shu Jun’s tactical training—there were a few instances where he genuinely lost his temper, nearly scaring Shu Jun out of his wits.

They still laughed and ran around in this small apartment, but Shu Jun could vaguely feel that something had forever changed.

“A’Yan.” One night, Shu Jun tightly clutched his blanket and nervously swallowed his saliva. “Is there something on your mind?”

“… ” Smoke lay with his back turned to Shu Jun, remaining silent.

“You’re in a bad mood,” Shu Jun continued cautiously. “If you have any troubles…”

“My mom can’t hold on much longer.” After a long silence, Smoke spoke softly.

“What?!” Shu Jun jumped up from the bed in shock. “Then go and accompany her right away!”

“I’ve thought about it, but her room has a specialized treatment device, and I can’t go in… I can only make sure to be with her during her non-treatment time, but…”

Shu Jun quietly climbed back onto the bed, contemplating for a moment before hugging Smoke from behind.

“I know she’s very sick, and I’ve been mentally prepared for several years.” Smoke didn’t resist. “But right now… I still… can’t fully accept it.”

“A’ Yan…”

“She can be strange sometimes, but she’s a good mother, I know that. We had planned to go out together at the end of this year. She said she wanted to see me reach the age of sixteen.”

Shu Jun didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have parents, so he couldn’t fully understand Smoke’s pain. All he could do was hold him tightly, hoping to alleviate those tremors.

“I don’t know how to console you, but… but if you’re really upset, I can make more time in the future to be with you…” He stammered, trying to comfort him. “A’Yan, I’m willing to be your friend forever.”

For some reason, Smoke trembled even more intensely. Whether Shu Jun let go or held on, the whole person became as rigid as a statue.

“You don’t understand,” Smoke said after regaining composure, his voice quivering with tears.

“I…” Shu Jun racked his brain, trying to figure out if he had said anything disrespectful. Before he could figure it out, Smoke turned over and hugged him with all his strength—as if a drowning person clinging to their last floating object.

“Go to sleep,” Smoke said hoarsely.

“But you…”

“Go to sleep,” Smoke repeated.

Afterward, Shu Jun remained nervous for a whole week. However, Smoke proved to be much stronger than he had imagined. He didn’t sink into depression, nor did he absentmindedly deal with Shu Jun. From his actions, it seemed that he cherished the time they spent together even more.

Smoke didn’t shy away from discussing his mother’s condition. He would sadly share the details with Shu Jun, who patiently listened, always ready to provide a shoulder, an arm, or a hug. In turn, Shu Jun began to open up completely—sharing the joys and sorrows of his daily life, always the first to share with Smoke.

Although Shu Jun had a vague feeling that Smoke was keeping something from him, it didn’t matter. He believed that Smoke would never harm him.

The two of them no longer clashed and cherished the time they spent together each day. Time flowed slowly, and Shu Jun gradually realized something terrifying—

He had become accustomed to living with Smoke, and he didn’t know if he could accept it if Smoke were to leave.

Shu Jun carefully tended to the two potted flowers, placing them in the most conspicuous spot, silently making a wish. Even if they couldn’t be lifelong friends, he hoped to accompany each other until adulthood.

…But the bellflowers were ultimately not magical, and his wish didn’t come true.

In the end, they were separated, and it wasn’t the calm parting that Shu Jun had envisioned. He had imagined many possible scenarios for their separation, but the outcome was always the same—Smoke would deliver the news, they would cry their hearts out, exchange contact information, and then maintain online communication.

Reality turned out to be much crueler.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 60: Bonus Item

Six days ago.

“No,” Shu Jun said. “I won’t go to the celebration square.”

Xia Liang’s, in her old man’s form, expression darkened. “What did you say?”

“I said I won’t go,” Shu Jun replied with a smile.

For the sake of convenience, Shu Jun had changed into the standard uniform of the guards. It was a similar style that gave Zhu Yanchen a dignified and imposing aura. But when Shu Jun casually wore it, the righteousness of the uniform vanished.

Captain Shu didn’t like to fasten buttons properly. His collar was wide open, and the wide belt tightly cinched his waist. The black clothing, combined with his peculiar gray-white hair, added a touch of wickedness.

“You analyzed so much about the Reunion Festival, and now you’re not going?” Xia Liang felt a headache coming on. “Fine, let’s talk about it here today. Don’t use that style of hiding half the truth like Zhu Yanchen, Captain Shu. Explain clearly.”

“Our efficiency is too low,” Shu Jun said, leaning against the wall with a serious expression.

“There are a total of thirty thousand players, and it will be a slow process to remove their brain chips one by one and prove the reality to them. It’s already troublesome to persuade someone like Hu Yan, who is carefree and simple… At this stage, one Hu Yan is enough. If Luo Duan wants to expose the truth, let him. We’ll use a straw boat to borrow arrows*—once he removes the brain chips, we’ll abduct everyone.”

*Idiom referring to being resourceful and relying on other people’s human or financial resources to achieve one’s own goal. It comes from the Battle of Chibi in Romance of the Three Kingdoms. || You can read the story about this idiom in my Kinky Thoughts.

“What if Luo Duan kills all the players on the spot?” Ai Xiaoxiao interjected. “Feeding the corpses to the Erosion Swamp would indirectly enhance its power.”

“He won’t do that.” Shu Jun shook his head. “Even if Luo Duan goes mad, he knows that the Erosion swamp isn’t a real ally. If I’m not mistaken, he will find a way to kidnap the players and then cut off all retreat routes, leaving rebellion as their only option.”

His claw pressed against his lips. “Luo Duan can’t take away thirty thousand people all at once, so he will inevitably seek the help of the Erosion Swamp. The purifiers around the venue aren’t weak, so there will probably be an Alpha Erosion Swamp assisting him.”

“According to that reasoning, you should go to the venue.” Xia Liang expressed her confusion.

“No.” This time it was Zhu Yanchen shaking his head. He was sitting on a single sofa, drinking a cold cup of tea. “It will cause significant trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Luo Duan wants war, and provoking confrontation first is the most effective approach. Regardless of Shu Jun’s strength, the Erosion Swamp will still be able to kill a large number of civilians, especially those from the settlements. At the same time, the nearby citizens of Y City will also realize the ‘danger’ of the players—provoking a giant Erosion Swamp to attack proactively is enough to cause panic.”

“Yes.” Shu Jun approached Zhu Yanchen, no longer leaning against the wall. He casually sat on the armrest of the sofa and rested his hand on it. “So, we must intercept it before Luo Duan’s allies arrive.”

Luo Duan wanted war, and Zhu Sheng wanted to eliminate these synths with human appearance. If Luo Duan ignited the flames of war, Zhu Sheng would inevitably respond.

When there was no conflict of interest, people could still have some sympathy for the synthetics. But once they posed a threat to themselves, their stance would become uncertain. Synthetics were much stronger than humans, and if a large number of civilians died, coexistence would become impossible.

When the snipe and clam fought, it would be the fisherman who would benefit*. Sigma’s lackeys had been lurking in the command center for so long, waiting for Luo Duan to act as the catalyst. However, at this stage, the hatred between the two sides must not erupt.

*Idiom referring to while the main parties are engaged in their dispute, a cunning third party can seize the opportunity to gain an advantage or profit. It derives from a fable, which you can read in my Kinky Thoughts.

“What if a large group of Erosion Swamps attacked together?” Xia Liang didn’t let this loophole go unnoticed.

“It won’t happen. Zhu Sheng isn’t foolish. If Luo Duan displays too much power, Zhu Sheng’s policy might change,” Zhu Yanchen said. “If there is more than one Erosion Swamp, their different abilities will be exposed.”

“Rather than laboring itself, Sigma would rather reap the benefits,” Shu Jun smoothly continued the conversation, as if the two of them were two mouths on the same head.

Xia Liang and Ai Xiaoxiao exchanged glances, then both of them frowned.

“I understand. Then I’ll take care of the celebration scene. I can probably guess Luo Duan’s ‘surgical method’, but it might require some cooperation,” Ai Xiaoxiao said. “I’ll need to prepare a large amount of purification powder and make some modifications to Xia Liang’s stage. Zhu Yanchen, you should have some connections, right? After all, she used to be your ex-girlfriend.”

“Not really,” Zhu Yanchen answered seriously.

“Alright, alright, I know it was purely politically… But that’s not the point.”

“I do, I do.” Xia Liang raised a hand and timely interrupted this dangerous conversation. “This old man has connections in various places. What do you need?”

“Luo Duan won’t be as cautious as Shu Jun, and he doesn’t have the ability to suppress. I must quickly deal with the erosion substance inside the players’ bodies.” Ai Xiaoxiao shrugged. “Xia Liang’s stage position is good, and it’s convenient to tamper with it.”

“Then it’s settled.” Xia Liang clapped her hands. “Ai Xiaoxiao and I will go to the celebration square and arrange the Old Fourth. Shu Jun will intercept the incoming Erosion Swamp. Marshal Zhu, what about you…?”

“I’ll accompany Shu Jun,” Zhu Yanchen said. “I need real combat data to mimic the ‘Suppression’ ability.”

The four of them crowded into the room and discussed the details for quite some time. Until Xia Liang left, Shu Jun didn’t feel the impending sense of war.

As soon as Xia Liang left, Ai Xiaoxiao tidied up the documents for a while and also left the room. She still had her contract with the command center, so even if she took leave during the celebration period, she had to be present in person to request it.

In the room, only Zhu Yanchen and Shu Jun remained.

Zhu Yanchen sighed and grabbed Shu Jun’s wrist, causing his heartbeat to skip a beat.

“A’Yan…?”

“There’s something I must warn you about.” Zhu Yanchen said, gripping Shu Jun’s wrist with a firm yet gentle force. “Your fusion level with the Erosion Swamp has reached 73%.”

“I know.” Shu Jun sighed slightly, feeling a tinge of regret. He glanced at the measurement device on his wrist. Since his battle with the Mirror Erosion Swamp, the value hadn’t increased.

“After each battle with an Alpha Erosion Swamp, your fusion level with the Erosion Swamp increases by more than 20%. I’m worried… No one knows what will happen when the fusion reaches 100%.”

“Well, according to Dr. Ai, my brain will be completed,” Shu Jun said in a relaxed tone. “So, when that happens, I’ll be able to remember everything about you.”

“I’d rather you forget.” Zhu Yanchen muttered. “Your brain will indeed be completed, but there’s no guarantee that your physical appearance will remain intact. Shu Jun, promise me this. When you enter the Erosion Swamp brain, keep a constant watch on the fusion level. If it reaches 95% or higher, you must retreat immediately.”

“But the Erosion Swamp…”

“You only need to weaken it,” Zhu Yanchen interrupted. “I can’t destroy it like you can, but I can handle suppressing it.”

Startled by Zhu Yanchen’s grip on his wrist, Shu Jun decided to startle him back. Leaning forward in his seated position, he lowered himself until his nose almost touched Zhu Yanchen’s. “I understand.”

Zhu Yanchen stared back at him, expressionless, his eyes unblinking. The warmth of their breaths intertwined. Shu Jun held the position for a few seconds, but seeing Zhu Yanchen frozen in a meditative state, he straightened up.

It made sense. Grand Marshal Zhu had taken the most difficult path since he was twelve years old. Even rest time was scarce, so there was no room for romantic matters. Shu Jun was different. Even though he was too busy with work to pursue a relationship, he had read plenty of romance novels and watched romance movies.

He hoped they could bring peace and stand until the end.

Six days later, as Shu Jun looked at the Erosion Swamp before him, he felt that the first step towards peace was incredibly difficult.

What stood before him resembled a pile of black yarn more than an Erosion Swamp. Its tangled Vine structure covered the ground, and its “vines” thrashed about menacingly at the ends. It paid no attention to the approaching pair and charged from the outskirts towards the festival area.

From the uninhabited zone to the human-occupied area, the first line of defense was the stronghold. Before breaking through the stronghold, it encountered Shu Jun and Zhu Yanchen right on cue—Zhu Yanchen had set up the purifiers early, allowing it to instinctively avoid the stronghold. The Vine Erosion Swamp paused for a few seconds, then continued its charge, only to be suppressed and pinned in place by Shu Jun for a few more seconds.

Afterward, it reluctantly turned and headed towards the wasteland.

“There’s no such strong Erosion Swamp reaction elsewhere.” Zhu Yanchen remained fully armed. “Let’s go.”

Stepping onto the battlefield, Shu Jun focused all his thoughts. This opponent wasn’t to be underestimated—it was focused on reaching its destination and didn’t want to waste time fighting. Moreover, its structure was too complex, and they couldn’t employ the same method they used against the Mirror Erosion Swamp to locate its “brain”.

They had to react immediately. For some reason, having Zhu Yanchen by his side inexplicably strengthened Shu Jun’s resolve to never lose.

Zhu Yanchen took the lead, wielding a small rocket launcher-like weapon and firing several rounds. The peculiar-shaped shells pierced into the interior of the Erosion Swamp and their heads were deeply embedded underground. Half a second later, they emitted a dense spray of purification nets in all directions. Each purification net covered an area of about a dozen square meters, immobilizing the Erosion swamp in place.

It was evident that Marshal Zhu had put a lot of effort into modifying the weapons against the Erosion Swamp. The Vine Erosion Swamp writhed for a few seconds before quickly coming up with a countermeasure—it abandoned the entangled tendrils affected by the purification nets, forcefully tearing them away from its body, leaving behind a nearly hundred-square-meter hole.

As the tendrils of the Erosion Swamp detached, they gradually melted, transforming into ordinary erosion substance.

From a distance, it resembled a fleeing group of snakes, moving swiftly with unique strength and rhythm. The Erosion Swamp’s tendrils clustered together, intertwining and contorting, quickly repairing the broken holes.

Zhu Yanchen clicked his tongue, attempting to launch shells at more specific locations. Shu Jun could guess his intention—even though the Erosion Swamp was as vast as a lake, if they continued like this, they might get lucky and hit the location of its brain. Even if luck wasn’t on their side and the shells missed, they would still successfully weaken its power.

Unfortunately, Zhu Yanchen’s special shells failed to penetrate the ground.

The Vine Erosion Swamp crisscrossed its tendrils, holding up a dense and sturdy web above its body. As soon as the shells hit, they were caught in the web and subsequently entangled and eroded by countless erosion tendrils until they were rendered inoperable.

As a means of transporting thirty thousand players, this Erosion Swamp was quite suitable.

Taking a deep breath, Shu Jun lifted Monday and leaped towards the Erosion Swamp—after carefully observing its crawling habits, he had an idea.

While the Vine Erosion Swamp was focused on Zhu Yanchen, Shu Jun unleashed a wide-range suppression. Then, he casually grabbed hold of a tendril, utilizing the Mirror Erosion Swamp’s “Replication” ability.

He couldn’t change the form of the tendrils, but while they were suppressed, he could add something to their surfaces.

Shu Jun made the surface of the tendrils extremely smooth, completely disrupting the movements of this side of the Erosion swamp once the suppression ended. Satisfied, Shu Jun took to the air, giving it his all in a cycle of suppression and “polishing”. Seeing the Erosion Swamp’s movements in disarray, Zhu Yanchen quickly reacted. This time, he didn’t use ammunition-based weapons but instead sprayed purification powder in the direction where the Erosion Swamp struggled.

Finally, Shu Jun made a large portion of the Erosion Swamp become extremely slippery. The Vine Erosion Swamp became like a cat trapped on an icy surface, thrashing about aimlessly, unable to continue forward.

Realizing that it couldn’t move freely, the Vine Erosion Swamp became enraged. Several tendrils shot out, directly binding Shu Jun’s waist, ankles, and wrists. Before Shu Jun had a chance to swing his sword, several purification rounds came flying, cleanly severing the tendrils.

Having grown accustomed to wandering in fierce battles, it was difficult to eliminate the habits on the field—Shu Jun grinned and blew a kiss to his reliable companion.

They successfully trapped the Vine Erosion Swamp, but this was only the beginning of the battle.

Shu Jun quickly turned his thoughts, attempting to find traces of the “brain” in the sea of tendrils that filled most of their field of vision. The Erosion Swamp’s movements were chaotic, inadvertently increasing the difficulty of their analysis.

However, the Vine Erosion Swamp wouldn’t wait for them to think slowly.

Having suffered a major setback from Shu Jun, it quickly shifted its focus, shooting tendrils towards Zhu Yanchen. Shu Jun swiftly struck with his sword, unleashing countless wind blades that severed the tendrils of the Erosion Swamp.

There was good news—they wouldn’t be worn down too quickly by this thing. But there was also bad news—before they found a solution, this thing could exhaust them to their limits. Luo Duan wouldn’t keep waiting indefinitely, but buying time could serve as a kind of solution.

It was just a bit frustrating.

In an instant, Shu Jun saw a bulge rise and sink within the sea of tendrils. Immediately, he soared into the air, thrusting his great sword straight down. The next moment, numerous tendrils climbed up along the sword, seemingly about to encircle Shu Jun completely. Monday was tightly bound by the tendrils, screaming in fright.

That wasn’t the brain; it was a trap formed by entangled tendrils.

Shu Jun didn’t release his grip on the sword hilt. Once he let go, who knew where these black tendrils would hide Monday. Shu Jun took a deep breath, conjuring a whirlwind on the spot and concealing several vacuum blades within it. The tendrils were instantly cut into a rough circle, and Monday clung to a pile of broken tendrils, trembling as Shu Jun retrieved it.

It seemed like another path.

Shu Jun attempted to expand the whirlwind, stirring chaos outward from this point. If the brain was injured, the Vine Erosion Swamp would undoubtedly exhibit a noticeable reaction. However, theory was beautiful, while reality was quite disappointing—when the whirlwind grew to a certain size, he lost control of the peripheral airflow. The whirlwind spun feebly for a moment before finally subsiding. The shattered tendrils recovered quite quickly. Not long after the wind stopped, they once again merged into a cohesive entity.

Another failed attempt. Shu Jun’s attacks began to become more conservative. Before finalizing the plan, he needed to conserve his energy.

The Vine Erosion Swamp flailed about for too long, turning the entire wasteland into a muddy mess. Shu Jun’s heart felt as if it were soaked in wet mud, beating more and more laboriously. He and the Erosion Swamp were slowly wearing each other down, and a sense of powerlessness filled his insides.

Zhu Yanchen was like a precision machine. No matter how bizarre Shu Jun’s attacks were, he always provided precise shooting support. But Shu Jun understood deep down that Marshal Zhu was ultimately a mortal, and exhaustion was only a matter of time.

He wasn’t in a rush to kill this Erosion Swamp; it was much more troublesome than they had imagined. How long would Luo Duan wait at the festival? What if they dragged it out until the end and Zhu Yanchen exhausted his strength, only to be attacked by the Erosion Swamp? Questions tumbled in his mind, and Shu Jun’s breathing grew heavier.

They had to come up with a solution.

If only this thing wasn’t so closely attached to the ground. If its range was smaller…

Smaller?

Shu Jun bit his lip and charged towards the Erosion Swamp. In mid-air, he made a hand gesture to Zhu Yanchen, signaling him to pause. Zhu Yanchen immediately holstered his gun, making no unnecessary movements.

Countless tendrils entangled as usual, but Shu Jun swiftly dodged. Not even a single tendril couldn’t reach such a high place. The tendrils tangled together, temporarily forming a pile to eliminate the flying threat.

More than one tendril came at him. Without Zhu Yanchen’s purification bullets interfering, the tendrils quickly formed into pillars, waving like octopus tentacles. Shu Jun lifted the corners of his mouth and flew lower once again.

The processed pillars were slippery. However, at the moment when the pillars intersected, Shu Jun inserted his giant sword, using it as a safe point, and his palm touched the tendrils once more.

This time, he stuck them together.

From a distance, Zhu Yanchen watched as Shu Jun moved swiftly, his wind blades weaving through, as agile as a swimming fish, gathering the expansive Erosion Swamp into one place. Based on the visual effect alone, it seemed as if Shu Jun had dismantled a black sweater and piled up the yarn into a round ball.

The Vine Erosion Swamp was stuck together into a ball, but its mentality was quite good—unable to free itself, it simply rolled in place, continuing to move forward.

Shu Jun: “…”

His mouth twitched. “A’Yan, how’s this?”

The tendrils were tightly stuck together and still capable of wriggling, but their speed was much slower than before. Although the black ball was massive, it was much easier to observe compared to the vast expanse of an Erosion Swamp that couldn’t be seen at a glance.

“No trace of the brain, but now you can use the wind,” Zhu Yanchen responded in a deep voice. “Don’t use a whirlwind. Control the strength well, and cut from the outer layer… I’ll keep watching.”

“Understood!”

Shu Jun conjured a wind barrier in front of the giant ball, hindering its rolling progress. Then he rolled up his sleeves and began commanding the wind blades… peeling.

What was once a cohesive Erosion Swamp mass was forcefully pressed by the strong wind, peeled like an apple. The peeled erosion piled up beside the ball. Although it could slowly crawl back, it couldn’t keep up with Shu Jun peeling speed—just as they barely gathered, the next round of “skin” smashed them back into their original form.

Realizing that something was amiss, the struggling Vine Erosion Swamp caught the attention of the nearby Erosion Swamp expert—

Zhu Yanchen switched to a different gun and raised his hand, firing a tracking bullet.

“Dig down ten meters, quickly! The brain is starting to transfer!”

“Got it!” Shu Jun responded with a smile.

The erosion matter entirely formed the tendrils, filled with a significant amount of air, making it easier to suppress. Shu Jun thought this should be the end of the battle—he would break through its brain and defeat it as usual. Then, he would fly back to their settlement with Zhu Yanchen and both of them could rest.

However, as soon as he charged in front of the brain, he sensed that something was wrong.

The aura of this brain was quite chaotic, giving a more disorganized feeling than the hybrid form of Sweet Edge. If he had to describe it, it was as if something else was entangled around the Erosion Swamp’s brain—a “living organism” that resembled a parasite.

Although the opportunity was rare, the situation was unusual. It would be better to retreat first and consult with the expert. Shu Jun stopped in front of the brain, hesitating for only an instant—

Countless hands reached out from the darkness.

They grabbed his wrist, pulled his hair, and covered his mouth, giving him suffocating and chilling embraces one after another. The emaciated hands forcefully dragged Shu Jun closer, pressing him into the Erosion Swamp’s brain.

This is bad.

In the moment of being grabbed, Shu Jun used all his strength to throw Monday out. Zhu Yanchen was still outside, and this was the last plea for help and warning that he could give him.

They had ultimately miscalculated. There were two Erosion Swamps sent by Sigma. However, one of them was so small and weak that it was nowhere near an alpha level, and it could only hide near the “brain” of the Vine Erosion Swamp.

A malicious insurance. If they couldn’t defeat the Vine Erosion Swamp, it would be one thing, but if they successfully found the Erosion Swamp’s brain, Shu Jun would undoubtedly charge towards it and deliver the final blow.

And at the most relaxed moment, he was suddenly attacked by this thing. Such a well-thought-out plan didn’t seem like Sigma’s style.

Shu Jun couldn’t help but force a bitter smile.

He was well aware that with the abilities of this “bonus item”, it couldn’t harm him, an Alpha Erosion Swamp. But as soon as those deadly hands wrapped around him, he understood—it didn’t actually need to defeat him. Just a bit of erosion substance from the command center was enough to give him nightmares, and a small Erosion Swamp was sufficient to shatter the prideful captain of Groundwater.

It was similar to the “Crush” Erosion Swamp, targeting his mind.

In the instant of being touched, the nightmare became a reality.

Shu Jun was firmly imprisoned within the brain of the Vine Erosion Swamp, and a deluge of malevolence and sorrow poured over him. His nerves seemed to be severed, tears uncontrollably streamed down his face, profound despair choked his throat, and he couldn’t breathe.

“…A’Yan.” With his last bit of consciousness, Shu Jun let out a soft sigh.

The next moment, he completely descended into darkness.

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The author has something to say:

Shu Ge: A’Yan is such a pure (?) person. He definitely doesn’t understand. I’ll have to earnestly pursue him later.

Marshal: I’m contemplating how to win him over.

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Kinky Thoughts:

The story about borrowing arrows from straw boats comes from Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

Zhou Yu was jealous of Zhuge Liang. During a discussion of military affairs, he asked Zhuge Liang to make 100,000 arrows in order to fight against Cao Cao’s army that was approaching. Zhuge Liang replied that rather than 10 days, he could make it in 3 days and promised he could come up with them within the time limit or he would face punishment. Hearing this, Zhou Yu was very happy, knowing Zhuge Liang wouldn’t be able to do such a feat.

Unconvinced, Lu Su asked Zhou Yu if Zhuge Liang was serious, to which Zhou Yu said that it was Zhuge Liang himself who said it of his own volition. He then asked Lu Su to investigate Zhuge Liang to see what he was planning and to report back.

When Lu Su met with Zhuge Liang, Zhuge Liang asked him for his help. Lu Su was confused as to what he could do in order to help Zhuge Liang produce 100,000 arrows. Zhuge Liang asked Lu Su to lend him 20 boats, and each boat needed more than 30 soldiers. Cover the boats with green cloth curtains and arrange straw bales on both sides of the boats. Then he would have his own means to handle the rest, but Lu Su must not let Zhou Yu know about his plan.

Lu Su agreed. He didn’t know what purpose Zhuge Liang had for borrowing these boats, but when he came back to report to Zhou Yu, he didn’t mention it and only said that Zhuge Liang wasn’t using bamboo, feathers, or glue. Zhou Yu became puzzled and said he’d wait until the third day and see what Zhuge Liang could do.

Lu Su then privately dispatched 20 boats filled with 30 soldiers each, according to Zhuge Liang’s instructions. On the first two days, there were no movements, but on the third, Zhuge Liang invited Lu Su with him to go procure the arrows together. Here was where he witnessed Zhuge Liang’s means.

Zhuge Liang connected the 20 boats together by rope and set off to the north banks. At this time, the sky was foggy, and the view of the river was clouded. As the boats approached Cao Cao’s army, Zhuge Liang ordered them to spread out and have the soldiers beat war drums and shout at the same time. Lu Su was surprised by this, as it would attract Cao Cao’s soldiers, to which Zhuge Liang replied that Cao Cao wouldn’t send his troops into the thick fog.

As predicted, when Cao Cao learned of the movements in the river, he was overly cautious, afraid that his troops would be ambushed in the thick fog. Rather than having his troops move in, he ordered his crossbowmen to shoot into the river. He sent people to Hanzhai to transfer 6,000 crossbowmen to the riverside to support the navy. More than 10,000 crossbowmen started shooting into the river, and the arrows seemed like rain. As they hit the boats set up by Zhuge Liang, the arrows got lodged in the straw bales.

When the fog cleared, Zhuge Liang ordered them to return and had the soldiers shout back, “Thank you, Minister Cao, for the arrows” in unison. Cao Cao knew he had been tricked by Zhuge Liang’s boats, which were too fast and had already sailed away.

When the boats docked, Zhou Yu sent 500 soldiers to dislodge all the arrows. Each boat had more than 500 arrows lodged in it, and with 20, the 100,000 arrows were easily made. When Lu Su met with Zhou Yu and told him how Zhuge Liang managed to procure these arrows, Zhou Yu was taken aback and sighed, “Zhuge Liang is so clever. I really can’t compare to him!”

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The Sandpiper (Snipe) and the Clam

One day, taking advantage of the sunny weather, a clam opened up its hard shell to bask in the sun on the banks of the river. A sandpiper saw it and quickly put its beak into the clam shell to peck at the meat inside. The calm hurriedly closed its hard shell and sealed the sandpiper’s mouth shut. The sandpiper couldn’t peck at the meat, and its mouth was sealed shut, so it threatened the clam and said, “If you don’t loosen your clamp on me, you will eventually die of thirst.” The clam responded without showing weakness, “Your mouth has been clamped by me. If you can’t pull it free, you’ll starve to death!” In this way, the clam and sandpiper fought each other on the beach, and neither would relent. Over time, they became exhausted. A fisherman happened to pass by, and when he saw that they were tightly entangled and neither could move, he easily caught them and took them both home.”

This story was told during the Warring States Period, when the Qin Empire was strongest. On one occasion, the Empire of Zhao declared war on the State of Yan. At the time, the king’s younger brother, Su Dai, was entrusted to go to the Empire of Zhao to persuade the King of Zhao not to send troops. When he arrived, the King of Zhao demanded what he was doing here, to which he told the fable.

After finishing, Su Dai said to the King of Zhao, “If the Empire of Zhao and the State of Yan go to war, the two sides will inevitably be at a standstill for a long time, eventually becoming exhausted. In this way, the mighty Qin Empire will be like the fisherman, who just needs to sit back and reap the benefits. Your Majesty, please consider it carefully before making a decision.” The King of Zhao felt that what Su Dai said was reasonable and dispelled the idea of attacking the State of Yan.

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