novelraw Chapter 44: Sea of Darkness - (44) (5k++ words)
Chapter 44: Sea of Darkness - (44) (5k++ words)
Kui Xin’s communicator received several messages on an intermittent basis.
Lan Lan: “How are you feeling today, Xiao Kui?”
Jiang Ming: “I forgot to mention it yesterday, but your performance was incredibly brave! Thumbs up!”
Liu Kangyun: “If everything goes smoothly, you should be able to rejoin the team soon, right? Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Since starting this job, you’ve sustained two major injuries already. Take good care and rest properly.”
Shu Xuyao: “Dr. Huang informed me that you’re fine, which is reassuring. Best of luck with today’s awakened being the qualification assessment. I believe in you.”
Kui Xin individually responded to her teammates with gratitude. Suddenly, she realized that she hadn’t contacted any members of Mechanical Dawn throughout the previous night.
Her return to the First World had taken an incredibly long time, during which numerous events unfolded. While it was just one night for others, she experienced seven whole days.
It wasn’t an opportune moment to connect with Silver Mask and Red, so Kui Xin refrained from checking her silver bracelet for messages.
After changing her clothes, Dr. Huang entered her room with an electronic medical record for his routine check-up.
“Does your wound hurt?” he asked with concern.Kui Xin rolled up her sleeves, revealing her fully healed skin to Dr. Huang. “No pain at all; it’s completely healed.”
Dr. Huang meticulously examined Kui Xin’s face, noting that the wounds there were also entirely healed.
“A miraculous superhuman ability, awakened at the critical moment, saved your life,” he mused aloud. “I observed yesterday that the wounds caused by corrosion weren’t deep, possibly due to your enhanced healing capabilities. Despite the long journey from the coastal port to Headquarters, the blood did not corrode down to your bones. If it were anyone else, their limbs might have already become necrotic and required amputation.”
“Lucky amidst misfortune, I suppose.” Kui Xin lowered her sleeve.
Following this, Dr. Huang conducted a full-body scan on her.
Examining the scan results with satisfaction, he said, “It looks quite good. The alloy skull we previously installed for you has high compatibility with the human body, and even after your superhuman abilities awakened, there was no rejection reaction. Still, regular check-ups will be necessary in the future. I’m not sure how potent your superhuman abilities might become; if your skull were to heal excessively and dislodge the alloy skull, it would be a serious issue, requiring surgery to remove the prosthetic again.”
“Sounds terrifying.” Kui Xin touched her forehead. “I’m quite satisfied with my iron skull—it can deflect bullets on the battlefield. I don’t want to replace it.”
“Indeed, several members of the Investigation Department have received similar iron skulls from me, and everyone who’s used them praises them,” Dr. Huang proudly stated. “I am recognized as the top physician within the Investigation Department.”
Dr. Huang proceeded to other wards for his rounds. At 8 a.m., Kui Xin promptly left her room.
She pressed the elevator button, heading towards Jiang Meimei’s office on the fourth floor.
As the elevator stopped, Yadang announced, “Please proceed forward following the green indicator lights.”
The indicator light on the right side of the corridor flashed twice, emitting a green glow. Following the instructions, Kui Xin turned right and arrived at Room 4069.
The metal door opened, and she stepped inside.
“Good morning, Kui Xin.” Jiang Meimei sat behind her desk with a cup of hot coffee nearby, smiling warmly. “Last night was truly harrowing. I heard from your captain that you nearly lost your life… Don’t just stand there; please have a seat. The awakened status evaluation isn’t as formal; let’s simply chat.”
“I thought the awakened status evaluation would be more serious than an interview?” Kui Xin took a seat in the chair. “If not for my superhuman ability, I indeed would have perished last night. It was my first encounter with such an alien creature as the Scythe Demon… It was terrifying.”
Jiang Meimei remarked, “You’re probably the Investigation Department’s most unfortunate new recruit, sustaining such severe injuries during your internship period.”
“I do feel somewhat unlucky… But amidst this bad luck, perhaps there’s a hint of small fortune mixed in,” Kui Xin said. “In situations where others might have already met their demise, I’m still alive and kicking.”
“I appreciate your optimism.” Jiang Meimei smiled.
Jiang Meimei’s office differed from the conference room where Kui Xin had her initial interview. This office was smaller in size but more intricately furnished. A collection of complex and precise instruments was piled up in one corner, while the bookshelf nearby displayed a mix of e-books and physical books. From the titles visible along the spines, it could be discerned that most of Jiang Meimei’s reading material pertained to psychology.
Several sizable dumbbells were hidden beneath the bookshelf.
Jiang Meimei was not part of the Field Operations Team; theoretically, she held an administrative position. However, anyone capable of working within the Investigation Department must possess commendable combat skills. During her training sessions at the practice ground, Kui Xin learned that Jiang Meimei consistently ranked among the top in marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat within the department.
Noticing where Kui Xin’s gaze lingered, Jiang Meimei smiled and said, “I prefer physical books; e-books tend to strain my eyes quickly. Whenever I read electronic texts, I always wear protective eyewear. Lifting dumbbells while reading helps me maintain focus. Even when dealing with challenging cases, I like to ponder potential breakthroughs while lifting weights. It’s a very effective method; I recommend you give it a try.”
“Enhancing oneself mentally while staying physically fit—great approach. When I have some free time, I’ll consider adding a set of dumbbells myself,” Kui Xin agreed appreciatively.
This interaction differed from their previous interview encounter. Now, having passed the initial review, Kui Xin was officially a member, and Jiang Meimei’s demeanor towards her became more relaxed.
Kui Xin thought she could subtly adjust her conversational tactics and strategies, such as taking initiative by asking questions and bridging the gap herself. She could attempt to lead in trivial matters, but not on crucial topics.
Jiang Meimei had studied psychology and was highly attuned to changes in people’s behavior. When dealing with someone like her, one must be extremely cautious, avoiding appearing overly apprehensive or constrained.
“I thought Wei Zhi, our direct superior, would conduct my awakened status evaluation,” Kui Xin said, puzzled.
“Supervisor Wei is currently on a mission, so I’ll temporarily handle your assessment,” Jiang Meimei explained. “There isn’t much to evaluate; it’s just routine procedure.”
With Jiang Meimei’s unpredictable nature, it was difficult to discern if this statement reflected the truth or if she was intentionally trying to lower the interviewee’s guard.
“The Investigation Department records and archives the profiles of every awakened individual. These archived files are stored within Yadang’s core database. Once the evaluation is complete, you will become a confidential member of the Investigation Department, with all your information classified from external access. The confidentiality level of your identity in the residents’ database will also be elevated,” Jiang Meimei stated. “Our primary focus will be to document your awakening rank, specific abilities, and the circumstances surrounding your awakening.”
Kui Xin nodded. “I understand.”
“Now let’s proceed to the main topic,” Jiang Meimei continued. “Your superhuman ability grants you exceptional self-healing capabilities. Hmm, that makes testing quite challenging.”
“You couldn’t possibly test it by stabbing me a few times and judging my healing speed based on that, right?” Kui Xin leaned back slightly.
Jiang Meimei couldn’t suppress her amusement. “Of course not, because we don’t know if your self-healing ability has any flaws.”
“Flaws?” Kui Xin repeated.
“We had a precedent within our Investigation Department before. A colleague awakened with a superhuman ability to accelerate self-healing but ended up overexerting his vitality. He was essentially sacrificing his own lifespan for enhanced healing; the more he used his ability, the faster his cells aged. Eventually, his body deteriorated, forcing him to retire prematurely,” Jiang Meimei explained. “To avoid similar situations, we cannot blindly conduct awakening tests without first understanding the characteristics of your ability. Every awakened individual is a precious gem to the Investigation Department, representing valuable combat strength that needs protection.”
Kui Xin’s expression turned solemn.
“In a moment, I’ll likely accompany you to the research institute where they will draw some blood and take a small sample of your bodily tissue for analysis,” Jiang Meimei said. “This is part of the necessary testing process.”
Kui Xin nodded. “Alright.”
“After your body recovered, did you experience any peculiar sensations? Such as fatigue or feeling drained?” Jiang Meimei asked.
“Hunger,” Kui Xin replied. “I ate more for breakfast than usual; I wasn’t typically this hungry.”
“Using superhuman abilities accelerates energy consumption, and it indeed can lead to increased hunger.” Jiang Meimei pondered briefly, tapping on the table. “Your superhuman ability reminds me of Variant Blood people. Each of them possesses such exceptional self-healing capabilities, but their source of power is Divine Blood.”
“I believe the strength gained through Divine Blood is utterly unreliable. Not only do their bodies become distorted, but their minds also descend into complete madness. Captain Shu mentioned that they rarely survive beyond a month,” Kui Xin said. “Having such self-healing abilities is truly beneficial; it could save my life. I’m immensely grateful that I differ from Variant Blood individuals, not needing to consume Divine Blood to gain these powers.”
“Kui Xin, let’s consider a hypothetical scenario,” Jiang Meimei proposed. “Imagine if you found yourself in dire straits with two choices before you: either ingest Divine Blood to survive or wait for certain death… What would you choose?”
Kui Xin remained silent for a long moment. “I don’t want to consume Divine Blood. The tragic conditions of the Variant Bloods in prison are vividly imprinted in my mind; I absolutely cannot follow their path. If I became a Variant Blood, wouldn’t I be imprisoned? Bodily distortion is something I particularly cannot accept. I wish to die as a human, not as a monster. However, if I truly find myself in such dire straits, facing the choice between life or death… I fear it would be difficult to uphold my principles, even though I desperately want to maintain them… Perhaps only when that moment actually arrives can I make the ultimate decision.”
Jiang Meimei’s voice softened slightly. “You’re an honest and genuine person, Kui Xin.”
That’s incorrect, Kui Xin thought. In truth, I’m someone who lies without batting an eyelid and is quite hypocritical.
Contrary to her inner thoughts, Kui Xin said, “I’m a pragmatist. Doing what needs to be done and focusing on one’s own responsibilities—this has always been my guiding principle.”
“It’s evident that you consistently adhere to your principles,” Jiang Meimei remarked.
During this awakened qualification review, Kui Xin performed at her usual standard, saying what needed to be said while avoiding anything inappropriate.
“Although the awakening of individuals may have elements of chance, there are certain patterns we can discern,” Jiang Meimei stated. “The Federal Government has continually sought these patterns because we require more awakened beings.”
“What exactly is this pattern then? I’ve never delved into such matters before,” Kui Xin asked.
“According to official data and statistics, approximately 80% of awakened individuals experience intense emotions at the time of their awakening, and about 60% are in their adolescent developmental phase,” Jiang Meimei stated. “Emotions and physical factors are key to awakening. Let’s set this question aside for now since we haven’t yet determined your precise moment of awakening.”
“Not able to determine my exact awakening time?” Kui Xin repeated.
“Yes. Your superhuman ability manifests in self-healing. Perhaps your awakening wasn’t just last night; you may have woken much earlier, but it remained unnoticed because you hadn’t sustained any injuries,” Jiang Meimei explained. “I’d like you to carefully recall if there were any unusual changes in your body during recent times?”
Kui Xin furrowed her brow, adopting a thoughtful expression. “Gaining superhuman abilities occurred after the skull replacement surgery. If I had obtained them beforehand, perhaps surgery to get the iron skull wouldn’t have been necessary… My awakening period must be after the surgery and before last night. Within this timeframe, I didn’t suffer any significant wounds.”
“Hmm, it becomes somewhat difficult to determine,” Jiang Meimei said while looking at Kui Xin. “It’s possible that your awakening occurred due to the severe head injury… Given this uncertainty, let’s first record the discovery time of your superhuman ability and fill in the awakening time as ‘to be determined’ for now.”
She instructed, “Yadang, provide Kui Xin with an electronic form.”
A screen flickered to life in the office, and Yadang stated, “Please fill out the form accurately.”
Kui Xin glanced over the form, typing her responses on the projected keyboard to complete each section.
The form’s level of detail and extensive content surprised her a little; even information about her parents was required. Fortunately, Kui Xin had meticulously memorized the relevant details, allowing her to fill in all sections properly.
After completing the form, Jiang Meimei turned the screen around and carefully reviewed Kui Xin’s submitted data.
“Both your mother and father have passed away?” she asked.
Kui Xin lowered her gaze and replied, “I had a less fortunate family.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Jiang Meimei expressed apologetically. “Here’s the situation: the identities of awakened ones’ family members must also be documented as a precaution against certain unforeseen incidents. There have been cases where extremist terror groups kidnapped the families of awakened individuals to coerce them into acting. We take such matters very seriously.”
After reviewing the documents, Jiang Meimei stood up from behind her desk. “Let’s go, Kui Xin. We’ll proceed to the underground research institute for blood and tissue samples.”
Kui Xin rose with her. The office’s metal door opened, and they entered the elevator together.
“Yadang, Floor B5,” Jiang Meimei said.
Yadang responded, “Floor access has been unlocked.”
The elevator descended, revealing a bustling research institute brightly lit by its lamps.
Before entering, Kui Xin and Jiang Meimei changed into dust-resistant suits, heading straight to the research bench furthest on the left.
Upon seeing Jiang Meimei, the researcher, clad in a white lab coat, nodded towards them and glanced at Kui Xin, asking, “Is it her?”
“Mm-hmm, yes. Let’s start with drawing blood for examination,” Jiang Meimei replied.
The researcher extended their hand, saying, “Please have a seat and roll up your sleeve.”
Kui Xin sat down and rolled up her sleeve, watching as the researcher tied a tourniquet, inserted a needle, and drew blood.
After filling one tube, the researcher took a drop of blood and placed it under the microscope while muttering, “It doesn’t match the characteristics of Variant Blood. Compared to ordinary human blood, there are no significant differences.”
The researcher stepped away from the microscope, picked up a vial of local anesthetic, and said, “Come, I’ll administer local anesthesia now so we can take a small tissue sample from your arm.”
As they spoke, the anesthetic had already been injected into Kui Xin’s arm. Her limb went numb, and with steady fingers, the researcher excised a small piece of flesh, placing it into a prepared glass bottle.
The tiny wound on Kui Xin’s arm healed within three seconds, leaving only a smudge of blood to adhere to her skin.
“Uh, the differences are quite evident,” the researcher observed while examining Kui Xin’s tissue sample. “Even after being removed from their bodies, Variant Blood individuals’ tissues remain active and continue to move, much like detached octopus tentacles. However, this security officer’s body tissues behave differently; once cut off, they’re as quiet and uneventful as pork in a cold storage cabinet.”
“… You truly have a masterful talent for analogies,” Kui Xin remarked dryly.
“Thank you for the compliment.” The researcher straightened up and wiped his glasses. “What we can definitively say is that she has absolutely no connection to Variant Blood individuals.”
“Great, thank you for your assistance,” Jiang Meimei said. “We can leave now, Kui Xin.”
They shed their dustproof suits and stepped into the elevator. With a smile, Jiang Meimei stated, “This review can conclude here. Shortly, your information will be officially added to the core archives.”
Kui Xin pondered for a moment. “Can my salary also start increasing now? From this month onwards?”
Jiang Meimei chuckled. “Yes, that’s correct.”
“Thank you for your assistance, Team Leader Jiang.” Kui Xin felt relieved.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Jiang Meimei replied. “Apart from Group Leader Yu being on assignment, there were some special reasons why I was assigned as your examiner this time. The higher-ups always like to entrust these tasks to me, assuming those with greater abilities should do more work. As long as they compensate me with a higher salary, I have no complaints.”
The mention of “salary” resonated with Kui Xin. “That indeed sounds fair…”
“Don’t you want to ask why the higher-ups prefer assigning these tasks to me?” Jiang Meimei asked with a smile.
“Aren’t secrets not meant to be casually questioned?” Kui Xin hesitated.
“What a truly honest child,” Jiang Meimei said affectionately. After a pause, she suddenly revealed, “My superhuman ability is Lie Detection.”
“…Ah?” Kui Xin exclaimed, taken aback.
Just like that, she disclosed it?! Kui Xin looked bewilderedly at Jiang Meimei.
“Are you surprised by my superhuman ability?” Jiang Meimei queried.
“Humanoid Lie Detector… It feels somewhat unsurprising. Team Leader Jiang, as you manage the Criminal Investigation Unit, you must frequently interrogate criminals, right?” Kui Xin marveled. “This ability is indeed very convenient.”
“You’re now an awakened being, so certain confidential aspects of the Investigation Department can be disclosed to you. Your level of access has drastically changed from before,” Jiang Meimei said. “I appreciate honest individuals, Kui Xin. During each formal member interview and awakened individual qualification review, there’s always an element of assessing sincerity involved. That’s why those higher up prefer assigning me to be the interviewer and evaluator… As a Humanoid Lie Detector, I never make mistakes; even the most advanced polygraph machines cannot match my superhuman accuracy.”
“I see. That makes sense,” Kui Xin replied.
“Due to the uniqueness of your superhuman ability, it’s currently difficult to determine your awakening rank,” Jiang Meimei explained. “There’s no need to rush on this aspect. Through repeated tests and observation reports, we will determine your awakening rank and the specific characteristics of your abilities. The workload for the Investigation Department has been extremely intense lately, and since you’re still with the coastal security force, we’ll provide awakened training once you’re transferred to Headquarters.”
Kui Xin responded, “I understand.”
With a ding, the elevator doors opened.
Jiang Meimei said, “Your floor has arrived. Go ahead, Kui Xin; you’ve passed the review and tests.”
She gently patted Kui Xin’s shoulder with an encouraging smile.
As Kui Xin stepped out of the elevator, she turned to Jiang Meimei and said, “Goodbye, Team Leader Jiang.”
The elevator doors closed behind her.
For a few seconds, Kui Xin stood frozen in place.
During this awakened qualification review, the primary focus was on determining the source of her superhuman abilities, as her identity and intentions had already been scrutinized during the previous formal member interview.
She successfully navigated both assessments, which was indeed commendable.
Although the conversation appeared casual, it actually contained numerous traps; one misstep could have led to disaster.
Each of her responses was meticulously crafted, even down to carefully considering whether to use a subject pronoun or not. She couldn’t ponder too long, lest it raise suspicions.
Interacting with Jiang Meemi left Kui Xin utterly drained. Reflecting on their exchange, she realized that Jiang Meimei was highly skilled at manipulating conversations. Kui Xin couldn’t provide ambiguous answers every time; instead, it was best to strike a balance with appropriate affirmations and denials, portraying herself as an ignorant newcomer to lower Jiang Meimei’s guard.
“Yadang, what’s my work schedule for today?” Kui Xin scrolled through her communicator but didn’t find any work-related emails.
“You worked the night shift last evening, and it’s daytime now, which is your rest period,” Yadang said. “You can go home. As for whether you’ll participate in tonight’s coastal patrol, it will depend on your recovery condition and Captain Shu’s arrangements.”
“I nearly passed out from working,” Kui Xin muttered to herself.
Less than a minute after leaving the elevator, she stepped back inside. This time, she was heading to the first floor to leave the inspection building and take an electric railcar home.
Kui Xin had slept well the previous night, from around 1 A.M. until 7 A.M. Essentially, her night shift felt like it hadn’t even happened. She could return to her normal duties and join the port patrols at night after resting during the day.
While waiting at the transit stop, Kui Xin sent a message to Shu Xuyao: “Captain, Team Leader Jiang mentioned that I’ve passed the qualification review. I’m preparing to head home for some rest. How are the arrangements for tonight’s patrol?”
Unexpectedly, right after sending the message, Shu Xuyao immediately called her via the communicator.
“Hello?” Kui Xin placed the communicator in her ear. “Captain, haven’t you rested yet after the night shift?”
“Get some sleep soon. Kui Xin, congratulations! You’re our Seventh Squad’s first awakened being,” said Shu Xuyao. “Are you certain there are no issues with your health?”
“I’m feeling quite well now, and I don’t experience any lack of energy,” Kui Xin replied. “The injuries to my body have fully healed, so I should be able to participate in tonight’s patrol duties.”
“Here’s what we’ll do: skip the patrol tonight. Instead, stay at the office and handle communication responsibilities,” suggested Shu Xuyao. “Take care of yourself; I’m concerned about potential side effects from your superhuman ability.”
“Alright, I will keep that in mind,” Kui Xin assured him. “Were there any other casualties last night? Did other patrol squads encounter attacks from alien creatures?”
“No, you were just rather unlucky, encountering it right away.” Shu Xuyao sighed deeply. “I’ve informed Team Leader Wei Zhi about the situation at the port, and she said additional personnel would be dispatched there.”
Dispatching more personnel might hinder Mechanical Dawn’s operations.
Kui Xin responded, “Yes, hopefully having more people around will prevent further incidents with alien creatures. Killing the Scythe Demon yesterday was purely due to luck. If fortune had slightly favored otherwise, I’d likely be dead.”
“The Scythe Demon belongs to a high-risk category of alien creatures. As the one who took it down, you’re a deserving recipient of commendation. The specimen collection will gain another sample, and on the label of the Scythe Demon’s specimen jar, your name will be written—’Executor: Kui Xin,'” Shu Xuyao replied.
“Sounds pretty cool,” Kui Xin replied, then asked, “Captain, now that I’m an awakened being, my status and treatment are nearly equal to yours. Will I still be considered under your command in the future?”
“Yes,” Shu Xuyao responded. “You’re new, so promotion won’t happen quickly. Once you become the captain of your own squad, you’ll reach parity with me. What brought this up?”
“I thought since I’ve awakened and Captain hasn’t yet, maybe I could get promoted ahead of you,” Kui Xin said.
“Well, if you want to become my superior, give it another two years of experience first.” Shu Xuyao chuckled. “Alright, I need to go to sleep now. You should also head home and rest soon.”
After hanging up, Kui Xin stepped onto the floating electric railcar.
Kui Xin didn’t enjoy work at all; nobody did. Isn’t slacking off better? However, if she weren’t working for the Investigation Department, she would have to spend even more time dealing with Mechanical Dawn. Comparatively, handling matters within the Investigation Department was easier. At least she had already established a familiarity with her teammates, securing a foothold there initially.
Kui Xin casually found a seat on the electric railcar and expressionlessly activated her silver bracelet, hoping to see if any members of Mechanical Dawn had sent her messages.
Typically, Red’s messages were the most important, so she started with his first.
12:23 AM: “The port data has been analyzed at Headquarters. The objective is to complete the installation of bombs within the next three days.”
There was only one message from him.
Thorny Rose hadn’t sent any messages either, as Amber and Obsidian were under Red’s supervision and likewise didn’t send any.
Finally, there were messages from Silver Mask.
As soon as Kui Xin opened the messaging interface, unsurprisingly, she saw that Silver Mask had sent the highest number of messages.
“Hm? It’s already 6 a.m.; shouldn’t you have finished your night shift by now? Why haven’t you returned home?”
“Why aren’t you even replying?”
“Red mentioned there were gunshots at the port last night, leading to a lockdown. Did this delay your return home?”
“Has something happened to you?”
“I contacted Red; he said a security officer was injured at the port last night, but it’s uncertain who exactly. It couldn’t be you, could it?”
“Could it really be you!?”
“Are you still alive?”
Kui Xin thought, Surprisingly, just seven messages? It feels a bit odd having so few.
She typed back, “I’m alive, not dead. I will be home soon.”
Silver Mask promptly replied, as if he were glued to his phone, “What happened to you?!”
“I just got minor injuries; I was hospitalized last night, so I didn’t have time to respond,” Kui Xin said.
“Minor injuries? What kind of minor injuries require hospitalization?” Silver Mask asked.
“I’ll explain when I get back,” Kui Xin responded.
“Okay… I contacted Red earlier, and he gave me a good scolding,” Silver Mask admitted.
“What did he say?” Kui Xin inquired.
Silver Mask rambled on extensively: “He told me not to incessantly ask him questions, saying I was annoying. I mentioned that I sent you messages but received no reply, and then Red berated me again, calling me stupid for messaging you. He said it’s obvious you’d reply once you see them… I brought up what would happen if the Rich Lady died, and Red replied that there’s nothing we can do about it. In fact, it would be even more reason not to message you to avoid risking exposure if your bracelet were captured. He advised me to send you fewer messages in the future.”
Kui Xin deeply resonated with Red’s words, feeling like they struck a chord within her. “Listen to him more often; he’s right.”
Feeling aggrieved, Silver Mask responded without further elaboration.
No wonder during the hours she was unreachable, Silver Mask only sent seven messages—it turned out Red had scolded him. From Silver Mask’s words, it seemed that Red had caught wind of the alien creature’s attack at the port. She should inform him about the situation.
“Red, last night there was a wandering Scythe Demon near the port; I encountered it while on patrol.” Kui Xin sent this partial message without mentioning the aftermath of handling the incident or her awakening of superhuman abilities, intending to gauge his reaction.
A minute later, Red replied, “When Silver Mask said you were unreachable, I felt something was off. Are you alright? Did you get any blood on yourself?”
“Yes,” Kui Xin responded.
“How severe is it? It must not be too serious; otherwise, you wouldn’t be messaging me so calmly.”
“It’s both severe and not,” Kui Xin said. “My body healed under the effect of my superhuman ability.”
Red paused momentarily before replying, “Did a healer of extraordinary ability treat your wounds, or did you awaken yourself? There has never been any mention of precious healer-type Extraordinary Ability Users within Black Sea City’s Investigation Department, so it must be the latter, correct?”
“Yes,” Kui Xin succinctly replied, “it’s a superhuman ability that enhances self-healing.”
“Congratulations! Your awakening time is perfect, making it easier for you to gain the attention and favor of the Investigation Department’s higher-ups. This will facilitate access to confidential information,” Red said. “The boss trusts you the most; he wouldn’t feel secure with others as undercover agents.”
Kui Xin’s furrowed brow relaxed momentarily before tensing again.
Apart from offering congratulations, Red showed no particular reaction to her supposed awakening—a good sign that her risky move to feign awakening was on the right track. However, Red’s words further revealed her standing within Mechanical Dawn—she was deeply trusted by its leader.
Kui Xin turned off her bracelet and silently gazed out the window.
She had once again returned to the Second World. The skyscrapers stood like steel giants beneath the sky, their dark gray and jet-black outlines coming into view. Past the peak commuting hours, she found herself alone inside the suspended electric railcar.
Lost in quiet contemplation, Kui Xin silently rose from her seat as the announcement signaled the railcar’s arrival at her stop.
Walking along the familiar Anning Street, Kui Xin felt a sense of being disconnected from reality, as if from another era.
The street remained the same, but this time, when walking through it, she wasn’t as uncertain as during her first visit. Previously, unsure if she could return to the First World, she cautiously tried accepting the existence of the Second World due to her apprehensions.
Now Kui Xin knew clearly that after seven days, she would return to her familiar First World once more. She alternated between the two worlds, neither fully belonging here nor there. How long would this life continue?
As she passed by the convenience store owned by Xi Liang’s family, Kui Xin hesitated momentarily. She decided to go inside and buy a bottle of milk, also taking the opportunity to check on Xi Liang.
Xi Liang was seated in his wheelchair near the cash register.
Upon seeing Kui Xin enter, he smiled warmly. “Hey Senior, it’s been a while. Come to do some shopping?”
“It hasn’t really been that long,” Kui Xin replied as she picked out a milk carton and placed it at the counter for facial recognition payment.
“A single day can feel like ages.” Xi Liang chuckled briefly before turning serious. “Oh right, Senior, I’ve decided to accept Rick Technologies’ talent development program. When I think about it, it seems pretty good. As soon as I graduate from university, I’ll be able to start working at their company, plus they offer discounts on mechanical prosthetics installation… Although I might lose the freedom to choose my job, it’s still better than being paralyzed in a wheelchair and needing constant care from my parents for my basic needs. At my age, I just can’t bear such dependence.”
“As long as you’re confident in your decision and won’t regret it, that’s what matters,” Kui Xin said. “Have you thoroughly considered all aspects before making this choice?”
“Yes,” Xi Liang said, “I considered it very carefully! The doctor told me that continuing to be paralyzed could lead to various infections and complications; there’s even a risk of accidental death. Switching to mechanical prosthetics offers a permanent solution. My first priority is to survive; only when I am alive can I think about more things!”
“With a good attitude, life will gradually improve.” Kui Xin finished paying and said, “Goodbye, Xi Liang.”
“Bye, Senior,” Xi Liang replied with a smile.