Chapter 26

He quickly walked forward several steps until one more step would send him diving headfirst into the deep blue sea.

He stood at the shore, staring fixedly at the sculpture, his lips moving slightly as he muttered to himself, “Copenhagen, Little Mermaid.”

Hels crossed his arms over his chest and slowly walked up beside him, a smirk tugging at his lips as he asked, “Like it?”

“Like…” Horne blurted out. He turned his head to look at Hels, but the starlight in his eyes extinguished the instant their gazes met. He regained his composure and swallowed the unspoken word.

He didn’t want to act like a child.

Hels saw it all but didn’t press the issue. He only said softly, “You can take off your mask too. The recon drones can’t detect it in the game.”

Horne continued gazing at the Little Mermaid statue and didn’t tear off the skin fused to his face.

Seeing his persistent silence, Hels suddenly thought of something and chuckled. “Oh, are you afraid I’ll report you to the Tower?”

Clearly, he knew about the kill order and that the target was Horne himself.

Horne said nothing. The moment he’d seen the wanted notice, he’d suspected Hels, but thirty hours later, that suspicion didn’t hold water. Hels could have easily backstabbed him while he was in the game—not just fulfilling the kill order, but capturing him alive.

Hels didn’t care about Horne’s silence at all. Without hesitation, he tore off his own mask.

Horne turned his head and saw the face beneath the mask clearly for the first time. It matched his imagination and the blurry impression from that warehouse encounter.

Profound. Sharp-edged.

Under the brilliant sunlight, it stole the sun’s radiance.

What caused his heartbeat to quicken?

Hels sensed that unguarded gaze, turned his head, and his eyes curved into an attractive arc. “Now you know what I really look like.”

Horne immediately looked away toward the distance and replied flatly with a “Mm.” His fingers curled up, clenching uncomfortably in his palm, as if he didn’t grip tighter, something would slip from his fingertips.

He wasn’t deeply moved by appearances. He only felt that Hels, just standing there, was as vast as the sea they now faced.

Horne reached up and removed his mask.

In that instant, a sea breeze blew over, carrying the warmth of freedom as it brushed his face and tousled his hair.

When he headed toward the unknown sixteen hours from now, all this would turn to illusion. He had told Moroz in the game that love was a one-way road.

But for him, every path was, with no way to turn back.

Hels explained that he’d created this holographic map of Earth before the alien invasion for people to visit. He’d pored over preserved documents and images to recreate it around 2050, but imagination was just that—there might be inaccuracies.

Horne was the first test visitor besides Hels and the staff.

“Why didn’t you invite anyone else?” Horne asked.

Hels spread his hands helplessly. “They’re afraid of me. Even if they came along, their minds wouldn’t be on enjoying the scenery.”

That made sense.

They strolled along the coastline, past the breezy seaside promenade. Horne took a deep breath, feeling an indescribable sensation.

The sea breeze had a fishy tang, a hint of saltiness.

At that thought, Horne suddenly halted and turned toward the sea, heading straight for the water’s edge.

By the time Hels reacted, Horne had already descended the seaside steps and crouched by the rocky shore.

“What’s wrong?” Hels walked over to him.

Horne kept his head down, hair falling over his face. He silently dipped his fingers into the sea, held them there a moment, then pulled them out and tasted them. After a long silence, he said flatly, “It doesn’t taste like snow.”

Hels burst out laughing with a “Pfft,” clutching his stomach as the laughter grew louder, drawing glances from passersby.

Horne stood up, a bit annoyed, though his tone remained cold. “That funny?”

“No, no.” Hels managed between laughs.

Horne turned and walked away.

“Horne,” Hels hurried after him. Though not as exaggerated now, the amusement was still clear in his voice. “I’m not laughing at you. Don’t be mad.”

He wasn’t truly angry—just felt a bit out of control.

He’d seen his own face reflected on the sea’s surface.

Since waking up and enduring the inexplicable pursuit and escape, this was the first time he’d walked outside in his true appearance. Though it was fake, it felt carefree.

After walking a short distance briskly, Horne casually critiqued Hels’s game. “Pretty realistic. Unique experience. It should attract a lot of people.”

Hels tilted his head and smiled without replying.

No other visitors would come besides Horne.

This was just his long-planned malicious intent.

“There’s a water flight base ahead. Want to try it?” Hels gestured with his eyes toward the front.

Horne wanted to say no, but he saw people lining up, their faces alight with excitement—an expression he’d never seen in his life.

“Mm.”

Waves surged, crashing over them, carrying them to ten thousand meters in the sky.

Clouds gathered into soft white umbrellas high above, then they leaped down from the heavens.

Cool wind slapped their faces; the air grew thin. Horne said expressionlessly to the person behind him, “You could’ve gotten another parachute.”

He didn’t like anyone sticking that close—close enough to feel the other’s heartbeat.

Hels shifted back a bit.

So Horne thought that, though he didn’t like it, it wasn’t so bad either.

He asked where this was.

Hels’s voice was nearly drowned by the wind. “Norway, Voss.”

The massive parachute landed steadily amid the blooming tulips of Keukenhof Park.

Horne moved with swift steps, weaving through Amsterdam’s fairy tale. Wind whistled past his ears as echoes of people’s chatter from a century ago brushed his fingertips.

Hels followed silently behind, saying nothing, a faint smile always on his lips, his gaze never leaving the figure racing ahead.

Sunset rays fell on the rugged Helsinki-Sibelius monument.

For a moment, Horne was a bona fide romanticist. He forgot the Tower, forgot the aliens, forgot the kill order. In the reflection from Oslo Royal Palace’s fountain, he saw two people without masks.

In the reflection, his expression wasn’t as detached as he thought.

The park lake shifted from refracting sunlight to mirroring moonlight, then to utter darkness.

When Horne opened his eyes, the glass had slid open. He sat up abruptly and saw only the dim game hall, its dead silence broken by the faint red glow of the game pod flickering on and off.

Hels stood nearby, having waited a while.

Horne slowly climbed out of the game pod, feeling awkward. He averted his gaze and mumbled, “That’s it?”

“There’s more,” Hels said with a smile, “but I promised to take only one hour of your time.”

“Alright.”

Fifteen hours left.

“You…” Horne frowned slightly, wanting to say something but unsure where to start. His voice felt dry.

“What’s wrong?” Hels asked.

Horne had pondered this before entering the thirty-hour game, but whenever thoughts of Hels arose, his mind turned to chaos.

After a moment, Horne asked, “Do you know Wang Wudao?”

Silence lingered in the darkness.

“Does it matter?”

Horne said softly, “Not really, but he told me there’s a rumor in this city about someone making double-layered masks.”

Hels remained silent.

“It’s true, right?”

When he’d been surrounded in the waiting area, a staff member had intervened. He didn’t think they were friends, so the only explanation was that the staffer—and Han Ya—had told the truth.

The Red Light District had scanned him, and so had the aliens, but neither detected him as their target.

That was the only explanation.

It led to another question. Since they hadn’t detected or suspected him, either the people here knew about double-layered masks but didn’t believe in them, or they didn’t know at all.

But Wang Wudao knew and had brought him to the Red Light District.

And before all that, when he’d first met Hels, Hels had already given him a double-layered mask.

“Why?” Horne asked. “There’s no such thing as love or hate without reason. Why?”

Hels chuckled lightly in the darkness, not answering the question but countering, “Why not?”

“It’s common sense.”

“What’s common sense?”

Horne couldn’t reply right away.

Hels continued, “Something everyone should know is common sense? If living environments differ, is what you call ‘common sense’ really the same thing?

“‘There’s no love or hate without reason,’” Hels chuckled. “‘Common sense’ that everyone repeats—you think about it, it seems true, so it is? Beyond survival basics, what defines the boundaries of ‘common sense’? Why assume your group’s common sense is universal to all groups?”

“Oh, so you can’t answer my question.” Horne’s face was expressionless, refusing to follow his lead.

A few seconds of quiet.

The topic change failed; Hels realized Horne had gotten smarter.

Horne didn’t dwell on it. He stood and said flatly, “We’ll talk next time. I have things to do. I’m leaving.”

“Horne,” Hels called after him, “you’re going to the Tower.”

“Mm.”

He had to go. And he wanted to.

He also knew the man before him didn’t want him to.

After a moment, Hels sighed. “I’ll give you someone’s Resident Chip ID.”

The info transferred; a new name appeared in his terminal contacts: You Wenjie.

“He deals arms on the side,” Hels explained.

Horne paused, understanding. He asked, “Got guns?”

“Yeah, laser guns.”

Laser guns countered aliens and were strictly banned. Since waking, Horne had seen at most ordinary guns. With a laser gun, he might escape any trouble at the Tower.

“Good,” Horne nodded lightly. As he turned to leave, he asked, “You’re not going?”

Hels stepped back against the game pod and said softly, “I’ll rest here a bit.”

Horne wanted to scrutinize him, but it was too dark. “You’re hurt?”

Hels wondered how he’d guessed, laughing it off. “No, just sitting here a while.”

Horne asked no more. He nodded slightly and left alone, but paused after two steps.

Without turning, his voice cold, he said, “I’ll come find you to finish that question.”

He added, “And next test run, you can call me too.”

Hels crossed his arms and smiled without a word.