Era of Magic and Martial Arts

Chapter 388 - 372: Tears of the Sun, Taste of God

Solar Rain!

What a romantic name it is.

When the Upper City’s drainage system begins to operate, countless LED suns still flicker overhead, as if it were a grand light show.

Rainwater passes through the bright suns, refracting into a rainbow-like spectrum, falling onto the faces, bodies, and the plastic buckets held high by the Lower City People.

Children frolic in the rain, calling this disinfectant-smelling liquid "the Sun’s Tears."

The cost is that they’ll have to take an extra pill or two of Neutralizing Agent tonight, but the ignorant joy of childhood isn’t something a pill or two can buy, right?

Children run barefoot, splashing water everywhere, their ankles dyed a bizarre phosphorescent blue by the rain. Their tender voices sing cheerful nursery rhymes in the rain:

"Getting wet causes baldness,

But it cleanses the eyes,

Upper City’s poop,

Lower City’s fate..."

The street performers embrace their harps, modified from discarded pipes, plucking the rusty strings, singing the "miracle" of Solar Rain.

The lyrics are full of sincere emotion:

"When the sun dances with rain,

When brightness and filth embrace,

We finally bathe in the same world...

Ah, how wonderful!"

The church has also become lively, those buildings rarely open are now welcoming an endless stream of believers.

The inverted pyramid roof hangs down, like a thirsty giant mouth, greedily sucking the sky.

The priests wear slim-fitting protective suits as they preside over the monthly mass.

They claim that every drop of Solar Rain contains the Upper City’s "divine genes"— it only requires nineteen purification procedures to optimize the genetic codes of the Lower City People.

Although most believers first experience the torment of acute gastroenteritis after drinking the holy water, that must be because you aren’t devout enough.

Next to the church, a giant screen repeatedly plays a promotional short film. A scientist in a lab coat stands before the camera, arms open wide, spitting as he loudly proclaims:

"This is the baptism of the new era! When the Upper City’s metabolites become the nectar of the Lower City, we finally realize the sacredness of the ecological loop!

This is a god-given cycle, the new zenith of human civilization!"

Passionate believers listen with fervor, mimicking the gestures from the short film, spreading their arms wide, lifting their heads, letting the rain wash away their fatigue and heavy metal makeup, returning to nature’s purity.

However, there are indifferent passers-by holding broken umbrellas, silently walking through the rain, or simply letting the rain soak their clothes.

They are long accustomed to this "gift" with its metallic taste and lingering disinfectant scent, just as they are used to the billions of artificial suns rising and setting above their heads, and this changeless world without seasonal alternation.

The torrential rain washes the streets, pooling in low-lying puddles, where drunken men are downing it heavily, saying this is the true "Awakening Liquid."

Each month’s rainy day is a festival for drunkards to revel, after all, an expensive bottle of 10cc "Awakening Liquid" can’t cause a spree, whereas the rain imbued with a faint hallucinogenic flavor is free for everyone.

Step—

Muddy slippers break the puddle, turning the dreamy blue into dirty mud, startling the drunkards lying on the ground.

"This world is already terminally ill."

Team 103, the bald man rubbed his shiny bald head, grinning with black teeth.

The Red Dragonfly casually shook her wet, dirty braids, licking her lips with her sexy tongue, smacking her lips as she said:

"Captain, if you speak like that, the drunkards could fight you, for them, if there is a god in this world, it should be in the taste of this rainwater."

Finishing, the Red Dragonfly tilted her head and opened her mouth to taste the rainwater, the fluorescent patterns on her tongue resonating eerily with the rain:

"1.4% of Ailuokang nuclear waste liquid, an increase of 0.1% compared to last rainfall, increased metabolism by 0.1% in concentration, it seems the Upper City’s ’prostate’ isn’t quite smooth."

The Master of Ceremonies pushed his gold-rimmed glasses with his long fingers, light from the rain reflecting on the lenses.

He whistled, the sound like rusty gears grinding: "Red Dragonfly, you’re wrong, those steel pipes in the sky aren’t the Upper City’s prostate—"

He elegantly rotated his wrist, pointing to the drunkards lying on the ground, chuckling:

"It’s the Lower City! Because every Ailuokang capsule flushed by the Upper City toilet ultimately completes its cycle of cleansing in the Lower City’s bloodstream."

The Wild Beast’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his thick neck slowly turned like a hydraulic rod, stacking grim smile lines:

"Captain, you stepped on people’s god."

The drunkard behind spat out the dirty water from his mouth, retching with a sensation of having been filled with the taste of foot odor.

"You bastards!"

On normal days, drunkards might not dare clash with this bizarre ensemble: the sloppy bald man, the sexy red-dressed woman, the creepily smiling man in glasses, the burly muscle-bound person.

But,

the "Awakening" aroma lingering in the rainy day is the drunkard’s domain, he fearlessly roared his furious odd howls, charging at the group.

Captain of the Constables raised his hand, lightly swishing his palm, his finger penetrating the drunkard’s forehead.

He casually pulled out his finger, sucking on it:

"Then I’ll send him to meet God!"

After that, the bald man spat again, disgustingly spitting out the spoiled brain matter, then looked up towards the residential building in the distance, saying coldly:

"We’re here, time to get to work!"

.......

Zhao Xing left the Second Prison, driving home with a heavy heart.

The windshield wipers moved mechanically, sweeping the rain off the windshield one stroke at a time, yet unable to clear the haze in his heart.

"Feng Mu was actually released by the Patrol Office..."

He gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath, his voice full of suppressed anger and unease,

"The Internal Inspection Department is asking everyone in prison to cooperate with questioning, damn, they’re all a bunch of mad dogs, they’re bound to be buried with Qian Huan sooner or later."

The red light ahead came on, cars lined up in a long queue at the intersection, traffic on rainy days was as congested as ever, the flow of vehicles seemed like a dying giant snake, twisting its body, moving slowly yet helplessly, appearing both clumsy and desperate.

Zhao Xing irritably hit the horn, neighboring cars were not to be outdone, immediately returning his call with even louder horn sounds.

"Damn it! Damn it! You’re all damned!"

Zhao Xing cursed, his eyes shooting fierce light, his chest heaving violently with anger.

He wished he could jump out of the car right now, drag all those unruly drivers out, and throw them into prison to learn traffic regulations, and meanwhile learn some morals.

From long ago, he always thought the world’s best educational institution is prison, and everyone in the world should go to prison for further study.

Thinking of this, Zhao Xing shook his head, trying to dispel these thoughts from his mind.

He knew that the development of the situation after the prison riot differed from his expectations, making his emotions overly tense.

Zhao Xing adjusted his breathing, then with one hand on the steering wheel, used the other hand to take out his phone, quickly scrolling through the news page.

In the dim car cabin, the cold light of the screen was reflected on his sombre face, making his face look even gloomier.

Zhao Xing’s brows furrowed tighter and tighter, the rapidly scrolling headlines and comments on the screen were like countless darts, piercing fiercely into his heart.

The Executive Government acting so slowly was already beyond Zhao Xing’s expectations.

What disturbed him more was the subtle and strange shift in online public opinion, like an unreadable undercurrent, quietly flowing towards some direction he couldn’t discern.

"Somewhere feels off, like there’s an invisible black hand mixing up this whirlpool..." Zhao Xing murmured softly.