Chapter 44

“But I still won’t coexist peacefully with the aliens. I don’t want them to remain on Earth.” Horne’s voice took on a hint of coldness.

Even if there were aliens who hoped for peaceful coexistence, he wouldn’t trust them. He wasn’t certain that those hopes at the time wouldn’t turn into betrayals in the future.

Siselen looked at him and asked softly, “Why not think of it another way? Keep those who hope for peace and drive out those who oppose it.”

“No,” Horne refused directly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I don’t want to see a single alien.”

“Of course, that’s understandable. It seems you’ve remembered quite a lot.” Siselen curved his brows slightly, revealing a kindly smile.

Horne still refuted, “This has nothing to do with memories.”

“I know. It’s your obsession.”

Just as the words fell, Wang Wudao walked out from a nearby room. His voice carried a roguish interruption. “Hey hey, there’s an old saying in our country: ‘Those who haven’t suffered like others shouldn’t urge them to be kind.’ Sorry, I was a bit busy just now.”

With that, he tossed something to Horne. Horne caught it and looked. It was a new laser gun, which appeared more advanced than the one he had now, but it still felt like the original one engraved with his name.

“Yan Yue! Yan Yue!” Wang Wudao called out twice toward the end of the corridor.

Yan Yue hurried over. “What’s up?”

“The room you were supposed to prepare for the colonel—is it done?” Wang Wudao asked.

Yan Yue’s movements froze instantly. She showed an awkward smile and scratched the back of her head. “I made some ice cream and forgot, hehe.”

Wang Wudao clutched his chest with a pained expression. “Aiya, I knew it. You’re unreliable, girl. It’s so late—where do you expect the colonel to sleep?”

Horne immediately followed up, “It’s fine. Just take me there. I’ll sort it out myself—no trouble.”

He would stay here at most one night. He had to return to Loch City by tomorrow night to see Ais.

For someone who lived on the surface, the underground base felt cramped and crowded. Even with reflective coatings to optimize lighting, it was still too confining. But Horne looked at those people’s faces and felt a long-lost ease. He could feel the air seeping into his pores, every inch of skin exposed to sunlight—artificial sunlight counted too.

Yan Yue led him down to sublevel three. After picking up bedding, they entered F District.

“People from New Loch City all stay in F District. This area’s not full yet—most have one room each.”

It was past midnight, so Yan Yue’s voice was much lower. But when she opened the door and saw the mess on the floor, she nearly burst into tears.

“I knew I’d forget. I didn’t think I actually would. Colonel, I’m so sorry. I really want to kneel, or how about I kowtow to you?” Yan Yue said with a choked voice.

The floor was dirty, the furniture dusty, the bed unmade, the lights unapplied for power, the bathroom completely empty, and there was no water.

Horne sighed silently, took the bedding from Yan Yue’s hands, and said softly to her, “Go back and rest. I’ll handle it myself.”

“No way, I’ll get chewed out.” Yan Yue rolled up her sleeves, ready to dive in right away. But as she looked around, her capable demeanor vanished instantly.

There weren’t even cleaning supplies.

Yan Yue despaired, “I’m done for. Colonel, are you afraid of corpses? If not, I’ll just kill myself right now.”

Horne let out a small laugh, then quickly regained his composure. He said, “Go rest. I won’t tell on you.”

In the end, Horne shooed Yan Yue away.

Horne held the bedding, unsure where to put it for a moment. After thinking it over, he simply placed it on the bed. Dirty was only one side—good enough. There were no lights, but fluorescent coatings allowed him to make out the path roughly.

Less than two minutes after Yan Yue left, someone knocked lightly on Horne’s door—two soft raps.

“Who?” Horne asked.

“Me.”

Horne’s face turned cold instantly.

Ten minutes later, the door cracked open a sliver and stopped. There was no invitation.

It was pitch black inside. Hels pushed it open gently and had just stepped in one foot when the icy gun barrel pressed against his forehead.

Hels froze and raised his hands immediately.

Horne held the gun expressionless, appearing eerily chilling and detached in the darkness.

Hels moved cautiously, afraid that one twitch would turn him into a corpse. “Calm down. You can’t kill innocents.”

Horne’s voice was utterly icy, his tone curt like never before. “Get out.”

Hels softened his voice. “Your room isn’t cleaned up. Want to sleep in mine?”

Horne: “No.” He didn’t want to say another word.

He didn’t want to see this man. One more glance, and he wanted to stab himself.

Hels didn’t respond but didn’t leave either.

Horne remained unmoved. His face hid in the darkness, only his outstretched hand exposing fingertips on the gun under the corridor’s faint warm light.

The two held this pose, neither speaking, staring at each other quietly.

After a long while, Horne closed his eyes, then opened them. His tone was icy and concise. “Apologize.”

“Sorry.” Hels’s reply came almost without delay, taking the out given.

“Sorry for what?”

“For being so rational when you asked me to kiss you.”

Horne’s hand trembled. “Click”—energy charged, bullet chambered.

“Say that again?”

Hels spoke at once. “For not telling you about the underground base sooner.”

His mouth was the fastest part of him.

Horne put away the gun. Hels sighed in relief and lowered his hands.

Horne continued sorting the bedding wordlessly. Hels walked in and stood in the center of the room. He said softly, “Rooms have two beds. Don’t bother. Sleep in my room.”

Horne bent over spreading the sheets and glanced at the empty bed frame beside him. He said coldly, “Then you sleep here.”

“Fine.”

Horne’s movements paused.

In the end, his bedding ended up on the empty bed in Hels’s room. The room was small, the two single beds less than a meter apart.

After a simple wash-up, Horne sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the simulated window by the headboard.

Outside that window was the sea, with waves, starry sky, and faint sea breeze sounds. The volume was controlled by a knob on the headboard; another switched scenes.

Horne pressed one. Now the window showed a rainforest, mist forming on the glass. Touching it simulated scratches, and faint animal sounds came— he wasn’t sure if they matched real rainforest creatures, but they resembled those in the holographic map.

Humans once had endless forests and vast oceans, but now they could only pin hopes on a miniature cage. Lift the black cloth over the cage, and there was only desolation.

Hels emerged from the bathroom, carrying thick steam and soap scent, warmth wafting over. He sat across from Horne, facing him.

The soap smelled of grass. The same scent on both made the cramped space seem to sprout vegetation, green buds breaking through. They sat on a rotting log strewn with fallen leaves, covered in moss and dampness.

“What are you thinking?” Hels asked while toweling off.

Horne’s voice was faint, his gaze fixed on the window. “How to explain to the Tower.”

The steam thinned. Hels tossed the towel onto the table, leaned back against the wall, and said softly, “What did I tell you in the holographic game map?”

Horne fell silent.

When Hels first invited him to test the holographic map, he’d said no mask was needed inside. He’d suspected this possibility then.

The aliens monitored humans constantly, except in one place: the holographic game. Aliens couldn’t monitor the game program, making it the freest spot instead.

Horne didn’t trust Hels, but he trusted himself.

The moment Wan Ji told him, he’d found his link to this unfamiliar world a century later.

He couldn’t voluntarily bind his Resident Chip ID to someone… not fully known.

He’d just forgotten who Hels was.

Whoever it was, it had to be someone once very close.

Isolated and helpless, considering the Resident Chip ID binding and Hels’s actions lately, he rolled the dice on “trust.”

He faced a mountain and couldn’t fight alone, but he also resented Hels’s secrecy. The instant he opened the door, his first instinct was to punch him hard, then ask no more. He figured Hels had his own code of conduct.

In that moment, he realized he hadn’t lost the ability to “trust.”

Horne closed his eyes and answered slowly, “You said to act like I’m being threatened by it—really go investigate you, kill you, do what needs doing, say what needs saying.”

“So how do you plan to explain now?” Hels asked with a smile. He leaned forward a bit and turned the knob, making the rainforest sounds more prominent, filling the small room.

Listening to these before sleep should help Horne rest well.

Horne found it somewhat incomprehensible. His gaze shifted from the window to Hels, only then noticing the man’s bare upper body. He quickly lowered his eyes. “Am I really supposed to tell them about the secret passage? Tell them about this underground base? Hels, are you insane?” He raised his voice, realized it was too loud, and lowered it.

Hels said softly, “You have to go.”

When they discussed it in the holographic map, Hels hadn’t told him anything about Old Loch City or the underground base. The reason: he had to truly know nothing to play the lone wolf convincingly. Though aliens lagged humans in some ways, it didn’t mean they were easy to fool—especially since their shortcomings stemmed only from not living on Earth long enough.

So Horne followed the plan, probing Hels repeatedly, staying in character, saying and doing what he should—as if he were really testing Hels.

But he hadn’t expected such a massive “surprise” waiting.

“Horne,” Hels leaned forward to the bed’s edge, gripped his shoulder, and leaned in to meet his eyes. He said softly, “It’s still within the plan.”

“Mm.” Horne closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, clarity filled them.

It was two a.m., and the entire base had quieted.

In this small F District room, a long silence fell. Horne gazed calmly into Hels’s eyes for a very, very long time without speaking. Bug chirps and bird calls filled his ears—like following the sounds back to a century ago.

In this ancient forest, Horne’s voice seemed distant and hazy, misted with moisture.

“Hels, I want to ask you something.”

Hels replied, “It’s late. Unimportant things can wait till tomorrow.”

“It’s important.” Horne paused, then asked, “These years—have you been well?”