novelraw Chapter 7: Sea of Darkness - (7)
Chapter 7: Sea of Darkness - (7)
Shu Xuyao glanced at Kui Xin, who was sitting across from him, and let out a resigned sigh.
“Captain, are you still working overtime?” Kui Xin attempted to make conversation despite her unease.
“Yes, overtime. Originally, I should have been off duty three minutes ago, but because of you…” Shu Xuyao paused briefly. “Explain yourself now; give me the sequence of events.”
“On my way home after work, I encountered a robbery. Then, unable to control myself, I ended up… killing them.” Kui Xin struggled to express her predicament. “Will I face any disciplinary action?”
Shu Xuyao thought about it for a while. “No; those two individuals had criminal records, and you acted in self-defense. You possess immunity as a member of the Investigation Department—even though you’re an intern. Causing casualties while performing your official duties does not result in legal liability. This matter can be handled internally without involving other departments; otherwise, there would be too many procedures to follow, making it overly complicated.”
Kui Xin said, “Captain, I wasn’t performing official…”
Shu Xuyao gave her a stern look. “You were indeed acting in your official capacity.”
“…I understand,” Kui Xin replied.
Shu Xuyao intended to leverage his position to suppress this incident.
“Captain Shu, the autopsy reports have been delivered,” Yadang reported.“Project them,” Shu Xuyao instructed.
The holographic projection equipment in the office adjusted its angle, vividly displaying two corpses lying on the dissection table.
One individual’s facial bones were horrifically caved in, so mutilated that it warranted censorship. The other had a subtle knife wound on their chest, with blood pooling around the body.
Kui Xin lowered her head, avoiding the sight of those two corpses.
“Liu Gaoyang died from a skull fracture; a heavy blow to the temple caused shattered fragments of bone to penetrate his brain, resulting in his death. The time of death was less than an hour ago.”
“Song Yuan’s cause of death was a puncture wound to the chest. The sharp object precisely penetrated between the third and fourth ribs on the left side, striking the heart directly and causing instant death. Similarly, the time of death was also less than one hour ago.”
Shu Xuyao raised his eyebrows in surprise and chuckled at Kui Xin’s pale face. “I thought you were truly unaffected. If I’m not mistaken, this is your first time killing someone.”
“How could I be unaffected?” Kui Xin pressed her hand against her forehead, feeling her stomach churn.
Fortunately, she hadn’t eaten much over the past few hours; otherwise, she might have vomited.
At the moment it happened, she indeed felt little emotion, only a sense of unreality as events unfolded beyond expectation.
But now, listening to Yadang recount the autopsy reports, scenes of her committing murder involuntarily replayed in her mind again and again, grounding her in reality.
“Don’t throw up in my office. The restroom is just to the left when you exit,” said Shu Xuyao. “Your foundational skills from school seem solid. I reviewed your internal recruitment scores—you nearly achieved perfect marks in practical courses like tracking, combat, investigation, and marksmanship. Kui Xin, you’re the most outstanding new recruit in the Investigation Department in recent years.”
He poured Kui Xin a glass of ice water. “Drink this to calm down.”
Kui Xin picked up the glass and gulped it down, the icy sensation temporarily cooling her thoughts.
“You were originally destined for the Criminal Investigation Unit, but I requested to have you transferred here. The Field Operations Team is more demanding than other departments; we face direct dangers, confront criminals head-on, and encounter numerous unexpected incidents during patrols that can even put our lives at risk,” Shu Xuyao said. “If you find yourself unable to adapt to such field work, after your internship ends, you can apply to be reassigned to another team.”
Kui Xin did not respond.
“You can take some time to think about it. Personally, I hope you stay with us; the Field Operations Team lacks new recruits,” he continued. “By the way, is your home on Port Bay District’s Anning Street?”
“Yes,” Kui Xin replied.
“The security there is very poor due to numerous gangs and difficulties maintaining order. Homicides occur every month, and Port Bay District has the highest concentration of illegal trade hotspots.” Shu Xuyao suggested, “Consider moving to a safer area.”
“But I don’t have the money to relocate,” Kui Xin lamented. “That house was left by my parents. Even attending university required me to take out loans—I owe the bank 300,000 credits… It will take ages to pay it off.”
For a moment, Shu Xuyao was speechless.
“Once you’re officially confirmed in your position, you can reside in the employee dormitories,” he said. “In just one week, you’ll be eligible to apply for confirmation. Take your time. Additionally, your personal communicator seems to have been damaged during the last field operation. You should…”
“Can I get reimbursed for the damage? This was property loss incurred while performing official duties,” Kui Xin whispered.
Shu Xuyao smiled and said, “No.”
He bent down and retrieved a box from his desk drawer. “This is a standard communicator issued to all formal members of the Investigation Department. It’s just the basic model; you can use it for now.”
Kui Xin accepted the box and said, “Thank you, Captain.”
Unable to resist revealing her cheeky nature, she added one more sentence: “Do the captains of other teams show similar care for their members, being concerned about their well-being as you do? If they aren’t as gentle and considerate as you, Captain, I wouldn’t apply for a transfer away from the Field Operations Team.”
Shu Xuyao paused momentarily, then cleared his throat, pretending he hadn’t heard that remark.
“If you truly cannot overcome the hurdle of killing, go see the psychologist at the mental health office,” Shu Xuyao advised finally. “Director Yang, the head therapist there, is highly skilled. He will help alleviate your concerns.”
———–
Xi Liang stood like a bewildered fool on the first floor of the Investigation Department building, finding a spot to sit and wait for someone.
The questioning had concluded long ago. As a witness, his observations were limited, and he could contribute very little. The interrogator used a high-tech device akin to a polygraph, asked him several questions, and then let him go.
He waited for Kui Xin on the ground floor’s reception area.
Ten minutes passed, and the elevator’s floor indicator descended. The doors opened, and Kui Xin stepped out.
“You’re still here?” Kui Xin said she was surprised.
“I was waiting for you,” Xi Liang replied.
“Let’s hurry home then; the electric railcars stop operating at midnight,” Kui Xin said.
Xi Liang promptly nodded, silently thinking that this was exactly what he had been waiting to hear.
The Second World had already transitioned into a cashless society long ago. Xi Liang was unfamiliar with the place, so he didn’t know how to make payments or even find his way back home. What would he do if he got lost alone? That’s why he thought of Kui Xin. Her family also resided on Anning Street, so once her matters were resolved, they could return together.
Kui Xin confidently led Xi Liang to the electric railcar boarding point, knowing the route well.
Xi Liang looked around curiously, emitting a slight gasp when he saw advertisements projected mid-air, amazed by the dazzling holographic imaging technology.
“What year are you in college?” Kui Xin subtly probed for information.
“I am a first-year student; I just received my acceptance letter this morning. Admitted to the Mechanical Engineering Department.” Xi Liang scratched his hair.
“The tuition at Black Sea Academy isn’t cheap. Have you found a way to secure loans?” Kui Xin probed further, careful not to make her inquiry seem too deliberate. She added, “Back when I was applying for university, I encountered many pitfalls. Let me warn you – avoid high-interest loans.”
“Understood.” Xi Liang then asked, “The tuition is expensive… How expensive exactly?”
Recalling the information she had seen, Kui Xin replied, “Around two hundred thousand per year, excluding living expenses.”
“What?!” Xi Liang’s face paled with shock. “How can they charge so much?! This is supposed to be a university-nurturing talent! With such exorbitant tuition fees, how many talented students will be unable to afford it?”
Kui Xin looked at Xi Liang peculiarly as he hastily lowered his voice, sounding indignant. “This tuition fee is outrageously absurd, unbelievably unreasonable!”
“There’s nothing we can do; these are the established rules,” Kui Xin said.
Xi Liang muttered, “Well, that certainly broadens my perspective.”
Education monopoly, vast wealth disparities, and class stratification—this was the current state of the Second World. The affluent could afford university education, receiving higher learning opportunities, while ordinary individuals, lacking means, were relegated to low-paying jobs. Over time, the gap between rich and poor widened, solidifying social classes even more.
Education in the Second World wasn’t aimed at nurturing talent; it was designed to solidify the interests of the elite class.
“Senior!” Xi Liang leaned close to Kui Xin and whispered, “Is there any way to obtain legal loans?”
This kid sure knows how to sweet talk—already calling her ‘senior’ after just meeting.
Kui Xin replied, “From banks, but whether they’ll grant loans is uncertain, and sometimes the repayment interest can be quite high.”
Xi Liang fretted; his expression was troubled. “I’m really scared I won’t be able to afford school.”
The Second World operates on capitalist principles. Why would capitalists, known for profit-seeking, engage in philanthropy without personal gain?
Even as the electric railcar reached its stop, Xi Liang remained visibly worried.
It’s quite intriguing. Kui Xin had already confirmed that Xi Liang is a player. Logically, having arrived in this world less than a day ago, he should not feel much attachment here. Yet, he genuinely seems anxious about affording his education.
Kui Xin herself had previously triggered the game system’s quest titled “Investigate the Port Explosion Case.” Could it be that Xi Liang’s triggered quest is “Successfully Enroll in the Black Sea Academy”?
If that’s the case, his behavior becomes understandable.
“Let’s get on board.” Kui Xin walked ahead, paying with a facial recognition scan.
Following closely behind, Xi Liang attempted to make a facial recognition payment, but the machine prompted: “Insufficient balance; face scan payment failed.”
Xi Liang stared, incredulous.
He tried scanning again, only for the machine to repeat: “Insufficient balance; face scan payment failed.”
Kui Xin looked at him with sympathy, then stepped up to the identification machine and scanned on his behalf. “Facial recognition successful, payment completed.”
She patted the stunned Xi Liang, saying, “I’ve covered your cost; thank you for accompanying me to the Investigation Department.”
Xi Liang nearly burst into tears. “Damn, how am I so broke? Do I really have a chance to attend university?”
“Work hard, and opportunities will arise,” Kui Xin said, her expression reflecting shared understanding.
This encounter wasn’t just about meeting fellow newcomers; it was also about two impoverished souls connecting.
Kui Xin deeply empathized with Xi Liang’s feelings, as she too had worried about living expenses and tuition fees in the First World. However, the amount of tuition she needed wasn’t as exorbitant as over 200,000 credits per academic year.
The electric railcar sped along its route, and they disembarked at Anning Street.
“Uh, isn’t it a bit dangerous for a girl to walk alone? Should I escort…” Xi Liang paused, realizing, “Given your combat capabilities, you probably don’t need my protection.”
“You can go back now; I’ll manage on my own.” Kui Xin waved her hand dismissively.
Xi Liang said, “Goodbye, Senior… Wait, could you leave your contact information?”
Kui Xin took out the communicator given by Shu Xuyao, and after fumbling with it for quite some time, Xi Liang finally managed to exchange their contact details.
The torrential rain showed no signs of letting up. Holding her umbrella, Kui Xin departed. After winding through numerous turns, she eventually found her way home.
The small building’s exterior walls were weathered and peeling, with even colored advertisements plastered upon them. The hallway smelled musty, and the rusted iron door hung crookedly, half-open, emitting a shrill creak with the slightest push.
She climbed to the third floor and stopped at the entrance, grasping the doorknob.
“Fingerprint verification is successful.” The door opened.
As Kui Xin stepped inside, a sudden intuitive sense of foreboding arose within her.
Lifting her head, she was startled to see a dark figure seated on the sofa in the living room.
A silver mask covered this figure’s face, and a pair of eyes scrutinized Kui Xin through the mask’s hollows.
“You’re late,” the silver-masked man said.
The tone suggested that someone was familiar.
“I encountered a minor mishap on the way,” Kui Xin quickly responded, taking over the conversation.
“Have you reviewed the mission chip that the leader asked to be delivered?” The silver-masked man queried.
“No,” Kui Xin replied as concisely as possible. She feared revealing her apprehension if she spoke too much at once.
“Hm. The leader instructed me to convey that this mission must be accomplished at any cost,” Silver Mask said as he rose from the sofa. “From today onwards, I am your assistant and teammate in Black Sea City, working together with you to complete various tasks. My codename is ‘Silver Mask.’ You need to choose a codename for yourself to use during communications.”
Codename? Kui Xin’s mind rapidly spun.
Silver Mask continued, “Your codename should ideally bear no resemblance to your personal characteristics; the more dissimilar, the better. Don’t allow others to associate it with you through the codename…”
“Rich Lady.”
Taken aback, Silver Mask asked, “What did you say?”
“Rich Lady,” Kui Xin calmly repeated. “The codename, Rich Lady.”
She felt that “Rich Lady” was quite a suitable codename—not only was it vastly different from her actual persona, but it also encapsulated her beautiful aspirations for the future. Her dream was indeed to become fabulously wealthy!
“…Well,” after a moment of hesitation, Silver Mask responded, “this… isn’t entirely unacceptable… Are you sure you want your codename to be like that?”
“Absolutely,” Kui Xin asserted firmly. “My codename will be Rich Lady.”
It was a codename that was both distant from her true self and filled with optimism for the future. Her aspiration was to become immensely rich!
“Alright, ‘Rich Lady’,” Silver Mask uttered, his expression beneath the mask indescribable. “Quickly review the missions given by the leader.”
Kui Xin retrieved the blue chip from her pocket and placed it on the bracelet for scanning.
On the first line of the mission details, it displayed: “Mission: Thoroughly destroy Black Sea City’s port.”
Kui Xin stared, bewildered.
What exactly is going on with these NPCs?! Why are they so fixated on this port?!
(Author’s note: Don’t overthink the phraseology; fundamentally, these are parallel worlds with certain cultural connections.)