Chapter 59

“You don’t think that’s unfair? You’ve always been in the city defense district, not even clear on some of the outer district’s internal rules, and he sends you straight to the south to fight the aliens—isn’t that just throwing you to the wolves? This was the major’s problem from the start.”

He couldn’t tell who it was, but Horne slowly lowered his raised hand, his expression gradually calming as he stood silently by the door.

Some time had passed since the incident, and he truly hadn’t considered it that way. He had just wanted Ben Yian to get some early exposure to outer district work, and it happened to coincide with the invasion—yet someone had interpreted it like this.

Hels frowned and pointed at the door. Horne shook his head at him and lightly pressed a finger to his lips.

The soundproofing was really poor; every word came through clearly.

Horne didn’t know who was speaking—perhaps a friend of Ben Yian’s from the city defense district.

The voice continued, “He sends you out there just to amplify your shortcomings, doesn’t he? You arrive and make a mistake right away, causing casualties. Punishing you would be one thing, but he doesn’t even do that—doesn’t that just make you feel even more guilty? I don’t get it. You’re clearly very capable; you could lead a team on your own. Why stick with him? Playing quartermaster? Those three grew up together—their bond isn’t something a newcomer like you can match.”

“Woody!” Ben Yian cut him off, his voice a bit muffled. “Don’t speculate about other people’s intentions.”

The one called Woody shot back, “I’m not speculating about that major, but I’ve known you long enough to know your ambitions. How can you stomach this? Or are you going to say again that your family came from Langdao City with nowhere to live, and he helped you find a place? Is that some huge favor worth your undying loyalty? I could do the same.”

“Stop it.”

Horne thought for a moment and finally placed the name. He wasn’t from the city defense district—a retired soldier working for the government, often shadowing the leader for security. He had been one of the two trailing them all the way to the Warfallen Asylum.

There was a rustle from inside, followed by sighs and low murmurs that dragged on for a few minutes. Then Woody said impatiently, “Fine, think what you want. I’m heading out. And don’t message me anymore about moping over him.”

Footsteps approached. Horne quickly grabbed Hels and ducked around the corner to hide.

The door opened and closed; the sounds faded, and the clamor of the slum district closed in again.

Horne leaned against the wall, head bowed, hair falling forward as he stared at the muddy concrete ground.

Hels stepped up to him and looked up without a word, his gaze questioning.

Their eyes met, and Horne immediately perked up. He smiled at Hels and said softly, “It’s fine.”

The door was knocked on again. Ben Yian saw Horne and Hels and froze for a moment—perhaps because of the conversation they had just overheard, his expression looked a bit unnatural.

“Why are you here?” Ben Yian asked, sounding a little awkward.

Horne pointed outside and grinned. “If you’re not welcome, I can leave.”

“How could that be? I’d kick out Ganal before you.” Seeing no sign of anything amiss from Horne, Ben Yian relaxed.

Ben Yian’s home was very spartan. Aside from daily necessities, the desk and cabinets were cluttered with electronic devices and multicolored wires of all sorts—relics of his past as a senior engineer from Langdao City.

Beyond that, it was all a heavy gray, which was typical decor for the slums.

Ben Yian hurriedly shoved the wires to the edge of the desk, clearing a small empty spot.

As Horne entered, a little girl slowly emerged from the room, leaning against the doorframe. She identified the visitor by his voice.

“Major.” Her voice was feeble, her lips pale, her unfocused eyes slowly scanning the room. “Is there someone else? A new guest… oh, the boy who stayed with us a while back?”

Horne immediately helped her over to a chair and squatted down beside her, saying softly, “Yeah.”

Ben Mu was skin and bones now, sitting there like a skeleton. The first time the three of them had met her, she had been weak but still recognizable. Over two years later, she had lost all her vision, and perhaps her condition would worsen further—who knew what she would lose next.

Ben Yian poured water for the two of them, but Hels didn’t take his cup; instead, he turned to drink from Horne’s.

Ben Yian glanced at Hels and asked curiously, “Why does he always act like I’m going to poison his cup?”

“Because you really did poison him once.” Ben Mu said it with a weak smile, as if even twitching the corner of her mouth took great effort. “Major, let me tell you—my brother was brewing medicine for me, and that batch happened to be a clear, water-soluble one. At dinner, he mixed up the cups and gave the one meant for me to his little brother. That stuff was bitter. Really bitter…”

Crash! Hels smashed the cup on the spot.

Horne could picture it perfectly. He propped his head on his hand, showing no particular reaction.

Ben Yian threw up his hands helplessly. “I had it the worst, okay? Taking care of a blind sister and a mute little brother.”

“Pfft.” Horne couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing. “Sorry, things were too hectic back then. I didn’t think about your side. Want me to pretend I can’t hear anything either?”

Just tune out what others say, and pretend not to notice the looks they give you.

Ben Yian was speechless. “Little Horne, cut it out.”

Horne chuckled a couple times, then turned to ask Ben Mu about her recent condition. She said it was neither good nor bad— she wouldn’t die for now, but probably wouldn’t get better either.

She said lots of people in Loch City were like that, just barely clinging to life, like humanity’s fate itself.

Horne thought of his recent talk with You Wangwang. He lowered his eyes and said slowly, “I’ll work hard to wipe out all the aliens.”

A dull ache came from his arm. Horne looked up to find Hels prodding him. He gently pinched the offending finger and whispered, “What’s up?”

Hels shook his head and poked again, his eyes showing disapproval.

“Work hard to wipe out all the aliens.” Ben Mu repeated Horne’s words in a gentle but skeptical tone, then smiled. “Major, sometimes I really envy you. Even when people badmouth you like that, you stay so upbeat.”

“Hm? Badmouth me how?” Horne latched onto the key point.

Ben Yian slapped a hand to his forehead and cut Ben Mu off at once. “Just a bunch of nonsense rumors. Not a word of truth in them. Don’t mind it.”

Ben Mu nodded. “Anyway, I’d never believe the major did something wrong and let his subordinate take the blame. The major’s the best person I’ve ever met.”

It was still about those earlier events, and they had clearly spread far and wide.

Horne didn’t know how to respond. His gaze just blankly fixed on the tangled mess of wires on the desk. He picked up two at random and lightly pinched them between his fingers. Not two seconds later, Ben Yian rushed over and yanked the plug from under the desk. “It’s fine. It was live just now.”

“Oh, any new research on the electromagnetic net?” Horne asked.

Ben Yian laughed. “You still think of me as an engineer? I’ve forgotten most of it. My teachers’ control towers were perfect enough; I’ll never surpass them. I just fiddle with wires for fun when I’m bored.”

“Fair enough.”

“Oh, right, brother,” Ben Mu suddenly said. “What about the roses you planted? Weren’t you going to give them to the major?”

“Hm?” Horne didn’t catch on. “What roses?”

Ben Yian’s expression turned awkward. He jumped in quickly. “I bought some artificially cultivated rose seeds from the market and planted a few at home. Figured I’d give you all a pot each when they bloomed.”

Ben Mu didn’t get it. “Wasn’t it just for the major?”

“One for everyone!” Ben Yian said, his face tense. He turned to Horne to explain. “I was joking with her earlier about it being just for you. No way—I always make three portions for everything I give out.”

Horne propped his head on his hand and smiled without a word.

They didn’t stay long. Horne urged Ben Mu to take care of herself and left with Hels.

The door had barely closed when Ben Yian started pounding the table. “Why’d you tell him that?”

Ben Mu’s expression was serene. She stood and slowly groped her way toward her room, saying as she went, “You like him—why not just let him know? Do you have to be like me, living day to day not knowing if there’ll be a tomorrow, always on the brink of death, before you can act without restraint?”

Ben Yian clutched his head, nearly losing it. He strode over, grabbed her shoulders, and said firmly, word by word, “It doesn’t matter if he knows. What matters is I know—you won’t die. And even if something happens, I’ll snatch you back from the jaws of death!”

A long gaze, a promise firm despite the slim odds, a faint glimmer in the pale night of the city.

All the way home, Horne knew someone was watching him, whispering things. He didn’t pay close attention; they were just baseless rumors, and he’d grown used to them over time.

He didn’t notice when the kid beside him stopped walking.

Horne realized and turned back. “What’s wrong?”

Following his gaze, Horne looked toward the bustling market lit by streetlights.

The market in the residential district was crowded, people jostling shoulder to shoulder at the independent stalls—an essential spot for residents to stock up on daily goods. It looked a bit more prosperous now than before.

“Want to check it out?” Horne asked.

Hels plunged right into the market.

It was livelier than before. These places usually only sold essentials—basic food, cultivated vegetables, lab-grown meat. Meat was pricier, and there were specialty spice packets. After circling around, Horne noticed some non-essentials had appeared.

The new additions amped up the nighttime buzz, with chatter and music weaving together. Horne didn’t know much about the residents’ tastes here. It was all noisy, but their talk was nothing like the shouts from the training grounds.

Hels stopped at a stall, staring at the goods on the rack.

The vendor spotted a customer and called out enthusiastically, “Kid, what kind of mask catches your eye? I’ve got more below that I haven’t put out—want to see?”

Horne came up behind Hels and glanced at the neatly arrayed masks on the shelf, wondering when Loch City had gotten stuff like this.

Mostly exaggerated animals or monster masks, made of plastic or paper, with unevenly applied paint.

The vendor explained they were for Halloween. He didn’t know how humans used to celebrate, but they could redefine it themselves.

Horne didn’t comment and just asked Hels if he wanted one. Hels grabbed Horne’s hand and tapped his arm a few times.

Horne paused for a beat, then grinned.

The kid was saying the masks were shoddy work—even afraid the vendor would overhear, he’d switched to their code language.

Horne bent down slightly and whispered in his ear, “You can tell? Make one for me when we get home?”

Hels nodded.

Horne suddenly remembered the human-face model Hels had made at home. The kid seemed to love that kind of crafting; he’d never asked, just let him do it.

“Kid, you buying or not?” The vendor prompted, impatience creeping into his face.

Horne grabbed a frost wolf mask at random. “We’ll take this one.”

He scanned his Resident Chip to pay and handed the mask to Hels. Hels turned it over in his hands for a bit, then snapped it in two with a crack.

Horne: “…………”

The vendor’s face fell too.