Chapter 25#
Zhao Xing carried the youth in his arms into a secluded corner. Seeing no one around, he set the youth down against the wall, then pulled up his collar, put on his jacket hood, and sneaked back.
The crowd of onlookers hadn’t dispersed; instead, they were even more excited, completely ignoring whether the people involved could hear them.
“……That was Zhao Xing, right? It was him, wasn’t it! Who was he holding? A new lover? Not much to look at!”
“You don’t get it. After feasting on rich food for too long, a simple meal is a nice change. Besides, I think that little boy is pretty cute!”
“Tsk, tsk. I never thought someone as good-looking as Luo Mingshan would be discarded.”
“Zhao Xing is blind. If it were me, I’d definitely choose Luo Mingshan!”
“As if you’d have the chance? Dream on!”
The scumbag dragging Luo Mingshan had also heard the nearby comments. He chuckled slyly: “That guy in black just now—your former flame? You’ve been replaced? Perfect timing. Stick with me. I’ll treat you better than he ever did…”
Luo Mingshan, looking dejected, let himself be dragged along like a puppet doll.
Watching from behind, Zhao Xing gritted his teeth.
What’s wrong with this Luo Mingshan? After teaching him martial arts for so long, how can he still be like this?!
Idiot!
Didn’t he kick Su Dong’an to death in one blow?
Why can’t he even fight back now?!
Just as Zhao Xing was hesitating whether to rush in, Luo Mingshan suddenly moved.
He yanked the scumbag’s grubby hand away, broke his wrist, then expressionlessly kicked him flying.
The surrounding chatter came to an abrupt halt.
Zhao Xing was stunned for a moment too.
He withdrew his right foot, which had already stepped forward, feeling a bit embarrassed inside.
It seems natural divine strength really is a good thing.
Even if he’s usually weak, his burst power is impressive.
Now, he probably doesn’t have to worry about Luo Mingshan getting bullied after he’s gone.
Zhao Xing thought with mixed feelings.
Just then, a prompt sounded abruptly: “Luo Mingshan, deduct 20 points. Balance: -3.5 repentance points. Please report to Interrogation Center, Repentance Room 1001 within 30 minutes.”
Zhao Xing froze, then erupted in fury—
You idiot! You can transfer one hundred million to someone else’s card, but you can’t remember to keep some repentance points for yourself?!
Hearing the electronic card’s command, Luo Mingshan showed no expression. He simply turned and silently walked toward the Interrogation Center.
Zhao Xing immediately went to find Chubby Liang, asking if there was any way to reduce Luo Mingshan’s electric shock punishment. But Chubby Liang was also stumped, saying that since the system had already notified him to go to the Repentance Room, there was nothing he could do.
“Damn it.”
Zhao Xing gritted his teeth and kicked over Chubby Liang’s desk.
Chubby Liang shrank into a corner, not daring to speak.
“Knock, knock.” A knock sounded at the door. Zhao Xing opened it with a grim expression, finding two prison guards and the unfamiliar youth he had just set on the ground.
The guard said, “Zhao Xing, please come with us as a witness to the assault and the Gu Xiaoxi murder case.”
Zhao Xing rubbed his hair irritably. “Fine.”
The youth named Gu Xiaoxi glanced at Zhao Xing, as if wanting to say something but holding back. However, Zhao Xing was too agitated to notice his conflicted emotions.
Zhao Xing was released not long after, but he was fined 60 repentance points. Gu Xiaoxi, suspected of murder, had to stay behind for punishment.
As Zhao Xing left the Interrogation Center, the prison warden hurried into Luo Mingshan’s Repentance Room.
“Mr.… Mr. Luo? Are you alright?”
Luo Mingshan stood up expressionlessly from the electric chair. “I’m fine.”
The warden asked cautiously, “Why… did you accept the electric shock?”
He was clearly a high-ranking human who could even remove his wristband on his own—yet he had endured the full electric shock like an ordinary criminal… It was unbelievable.
Luo Mingshan looked down at the charred marks on his wrist and said numbly, “I wanted to see how much it hurt.”
The warden: “And… did it hurt?”
Luo Mingshan didn’t answer. He just pushed open the door and walked out, only to unexpectedly catch sight of Zhao Xing in the Interrogation Center lobby.
Luo Mingshan frowned and turned to ask the warden, “What is he doing here?”
The warden hurriedly checked the records. After clarifying, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He said lightly, “Zhao Xing? Nothing serious. He intervened in an assault on a molester and got some points deducted. He’s already gone back.”
The face of the youth in Zhao Xing’s arms—glimpsed only once but deeply etched in memory—flashed through Luo Mingshan’s mind.
He stared in the direction Zhao Xing had disappeared, his voice so soft it seemed it might be scattered by a breath: “So… he can save other people too.”
Zhao Xing waited in the double cell until evening for Luo Mingshan to return.
When Luo Mingshan opened the door and saw Zhao Xing there, he instinctively stepped back before slowly pushing the door open and silently entering.
He kept his head down, his breathing light.
Despite how unobtrusive he seemed, Zhao Xing immediately noticed the charred marks on his wrists.
At that moment, a thousand words surged in Zhao Xing’s heart.
He wanted to curse—to scream at Luo Mingshan for being stupid and reckless, for having so much money yet forgetting to recharge his own card with repentance points.
He wanted to sneer—to mock Luo Mingshan for having a pig’s brain, for being so grown up yet still as forgetful as a child.
He even wanted to find an excuse to casually transfer some repentance points to Luo Mingshan’s card as a backup.
He felt like he was watching a little dumb dog that, abandoned by its owner, had run out carelessly and gotten itself soaked, bloody, and utterly pathetic.
In just one day since being cast aside, it had become filthier than a stray dog that had wandered the streets for ten years.
But in the end, Zhao Xing did nothing.
He closed his eyes, suppressing the anger in his heart, and gradually calmed down.
The first iron rule of abandoning a pet: Don’t look back, don’t turn around, harden your heart.
He was a man about to leave.
Zhao Xing reminded himself again.
“Why does it smell like something burnt?” Zhao Xing said casually.
Luo Mingshan was stunned. He didn’t know if Zhao Xing knew what had happened today, but he still hid his charred wrists behind his back.
Zhao Xing glanced at him. “It smells awful.”
Luo Mingshan didn’t speak. He just lowered his head and silently stepped back.
After a long while, he finally said, “There won’t be that smell again.”
Zhao Xing: “Whatever. I’m leaving soon anyway. Just don’t let me smell it in the next couple of days.”
The ideological assessment was coming soon.
The day of Zhao Xing’s departure was drawing nearer.
Before he left, he did one more thing.
In the cafeteria, in front of everyone, he picked a fight with Zhou Ming, slapping a bowl of lukewarm noodle soup onto Zhou Ming’s face, then dragging him to the restroom.
The charge was that Zhou Ming had been throwing Zhao Xing’s name around, acting smug, and telling everyone he had connections.
Since they hadn’t rehearsed, Zhou Ming was a bit confused at first.
It wasn’t until Zhao Xing’s seemingly ferocious but actually gentle punches landed on him that he snapped back to reality, immediately howling like a ghost. Especially when Zhao Xing dragged him to the restroom, he cried and begged so convincingly, clutching Zhao Xing’s leg.
After this performance, Zhou Ming’s relationship with Zhao Xing was effectively severed.
Even if some people had vaguely sensed that they were working together to earn repentance points, after this incident, their thoughts would surely change.
After washing his face, Zhou Ming cautiously asked Zhao Xing, “Brother Zhao, are you leaving?”
Zhao Xing raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
Zhou Ming: “I just heard—every year after the ideological assessment, a bunch of people who don’t toe the line are sent to other prisons for reeducation… And then today you suddenly pulled this stunt…”
Zhao Xing neither confirmed nor denied it. He simply said lightly, “In the future, help Luo Mingshan if you can. For example, teach him how to use money wisely. He’s so stupid—if you help him, you’ll probably never be short of cash yourself.”
Zhou Ming muttered quietly, “…What help does he need from me?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Zhou Ming made sure no one was around, then leaned in and whispered, “Brother Zhao, Zhang Yue is dead.”
Zhao Xing was taken aback. “Who died?”
Zhou Ming: “Zhang Yue. Yesterday, some guards suddenly took away his belongings, saying the man was gone.”
Zhou Ming shivered, feeling that this incident was eerie all around. “Normally, when a prisoner dies, it’s announced—like Wang Zan who died yesterday… But Zhang Yue died without a sound. No one knows how he died.”
So the one who died among those 101 people was Zhang Yue.
As for why he died so quietly, with no fuss, it might be related to the top-tier factory.
Zhao Xing mused to himself.
Zhou Ming’s voice grew even softer: “Brother Zhao, do you think Zhang Yue’s death… has anything to do with Luo Mingshan?”
Zhao Xing turned to face him, frowning. “What did you say?”
Zhou Ming: “Brother Zhao, have you ever considered that Luo Mingshan might not be at all what you imagine? He… he kicked Su Dong’an to death in one blow, and his expression was so calm, so unusual…”
“I was the one who kicked Su Dong’an to death.” Zhao Xing’s eyes turned cold. “Zhou Ming, what are you trying to say?”
Zhou Ming immediately shut his mouth.
Zhao Xing: “Zhang Yue’s death has other explanations. In any case, it has nothing to do with Luo Mingshan. Stop talking nonsense.”
“…Got it.” Zhou Ming said softly.
Because of Zhang Yue’s incident, Zhao Xing went to the top-tier factory.
The work done in Zone F of the top-tier factory was no different from other zones.
However, while other zones produced semi-finished daily necessities for surface humans, Zone F dealt with some more peculiar items.
For instance, there was an item others called the “advanced flashlight.” It looked like a flashlight and emitted a beam like one, but it was only the size of a thumb, with a recess at the top-center, its purpose unknown.
But when Zhao Xing reached out to touch the light beam, it felt scorching hot.
Zhao Xing suspected that if something were placed in the recess at the top-center of this “flashlight,” it might become a terrifying weapon.
After studying it all afternoon, Zhao Xing also managed to get chummy with a few people.
Before leaving, Zhao Xing casually asked them about Zhang Yue. But strangely, those same inmates who had been chatting and laughing with him suddenly clammed up like a string was pulled around their necks at the mention of Zhang Yue. They even covertly glanced at a surveillance camera—thinking themselves subtle—and their expressions stiffened as they awkwardly ended the conversation.
A few even sized Zhao Xing up with strange looks.
Sympathy. Curiosity. And a bit of fear.
Zhao Xing couldn’t read them, nor did he care to guess.
But one thing was certain: since these people glanced at the surveillance camera when they mentioned Zhang Yue, it meant Zhang Yue’s death was prison-authorized.
No matter how Zhang Yue had angered the prison authorities, it had nothing to do with Luo Mingshan.
After all, Luo Mingshan was only brought in to fill the numbers after Zhang Yue had died.
Zhao Xing shook his head and chuckled.
Zhou Ming was too far-fetched. What nonsense was he talking?
How could Zhang Yue’s death be linked to Luo Mingshan?
At 5:30 PM, the door to Zone F was opened, and the person truly replacing Zhang Yue arrived.
It was Gu Xiaoxi.
When Zhao Xing saw him, Gu Xiaoxi had already undergone the listening device implant, with black stitches crudely sewn into his arm. His lips were pale, and his expression was dazed as he looked around until his eyes found Zhao Xing in the crowd. Then he steadied himself and gave Zhao Xing a shy smile.
Zhao Xing didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the unfamiliar robot behind Gu Xiaoxi.
This robot appeared to be a more advanced, remotely operated unit. It even had silicone skin, and its speech lacked an electronic tone. If you didn’t look closely, you’d think it was a real human.
It stepped out from behind Gu Xiaoxi and walked, step by step, to the central platform of Zone F.
“Please stop your work and gather here!”
A human voice resonated from the robot’s body, as if a real person were standing on the platform with a megaphone.
The crowd looked up, but few moved.
The robot spoke again: “Tomorrow at 8 AM, this year’s first-half ideological assessment will take place.”
At this, the crowd erupted in excitement. Everyone dropped their work and came over.
In K13 District, the ideological assessment was a serious matter. After all, for every ten people assessed, nine would receive electric shocks mid-assessment—the severity varied.
And many of these criminals in the top-tier factory had already been through the assessment and tasted its bitter sting.
The robot continued: “In the past six months, you 101 people have done things and made mistakes—you know it yourselves. Tomorrow’s ideological assessment? Not one of you will pass.”
“What do you mean?!” roared the big brother of F001, his neck red and veins bulging.
The robot: “Calm down. I’m here today to offer you another path.”
Here it comes.
Zhao Xing set down the advanced “flashlight” he’d been fiddling with, leaned loosely against the wall, and let out a long breath.
F001 asked, skeptical: “What path? One that’ll get us through the ideological assessment? One that’ll reduce our sentences and let us out early?”
“Three months.” The robot’s voice was flat and cold, yet somehow reliable. “If you’re willing to complete a three-month mission, upon return, you’ll be released from K13 District, granted free person status, and have a certain chance of receiving a 100 million yuan bonus.”
The whole place erupted. The crowd buzzed with disbelief and excitement.
Someone shouted, “What mission? Is it dangerous?”
The robot: “There’s some danger.”
“Will we die?”
The robot: “As long as you’re strong enough, you won’t.”
At the mention of possible death, many people cooled down.
After a while, someone asked skeptically, “Why us?”
The robot: “Because this mission doesn’t want mediocrity—it wants the brave. And every one of the 101 people here has the potential to be a rule-breaking adventurer and pioneer. You also have the best chance to win that 100 million yuan bonus.”
Many prisoners breathed heavily, their excitement practically shining in their reddened eyes.
Zhao Xing couldn’t help it. He turned his head and let out a deep laugh.
Damn, what a genius?
Calling law-abiding citizens mediocrities.
Calling law-breaking criminals the brave.
Who’s the person behind this robot? What a waste not to be in pyramid schemes!
The whole place was silent, so Zhao Xing’s laugh stood out.
Zhao Xing coughed twice, waved his hand, and smiled at the robot, “Don’t mind me. Continue.”
“What if we don’t want to take this mission?” someone asked quietly.
The robot: “According to big data analysis and intelligent computation, you have a 99.5% chance of never passing the ideological assessment and spending the rest of your lives in prison.”
The robot didn’t launch into a lengthy speech. It simply said, “You have 24 hours to think. Same time tomorrow, I’ll be here waiting for your answers.”
Then, the robot pointed a finger at its own wrist, reminding, “Nothing about this mission can be leaked. The listening devices inside you will monitor your every word. Anyone who violates this will receive a first-degree electrical shock.”
A first-degree electric shock? The kind that kills you instantly.
Everyone felt a chill down their spines, their hair standing on end.
Only Zhao Xing was in high spirits, walking as though on air.
—At last, he had waited for the chance to go to the surface.
Late at night, Zhao Xing tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
The excitement had lasted for hours, but in the stillness of the night, a sudden unease crept in.
What would the surface be like?
The robot had said earlier, “As long as you’re strong enough, you won’t die.”
Would the surface be like a colosseum?
Would he be penned in like a trapped beast?
Would he have to fight?
Would escaping be difficult?
Would he… die?
But no matter what the surface was like, it was definitely different from underground.
A world completely severed from the underground.
No disgusting Zhao family members. No degenerate brothers. No profit-driven K13 District. No boundless darkness. No landfill of an underground world.
No… Luo Mingshan.
Zhao Xing turned over.
His throat was dry, and his voice was so low it seemed like a mutter to himself. He tapped lightly on the upper bunk’s bedboard and said, “Little slave, I’m leaving.”
Zhao Xing thought Luo Mingshan was asleep, but he wasn’t.
A soft rustling came from the top bunk, and Luo Mingshan’s voice was low and hoarse: “Mm.”
Zhao Xing scratched his throat and turned over again, this time louder: “Just thinking that I’ll never see you guys again—it makes me so happy I can’t sleep. Luo Luo, you’re going to become my past, like trash I’ve thrown away.”
Luo Mingshan said nothing.
He didn’t even seem to breathe.
Zhao Xing cleared his throat lightly: “Sing a song, Luo Luo. Sing a lullaby. Fulfill your last duty as my little slave and let me get a good night’s sleep.”
Luo Mingshan’s voice was very hoarse: “I don’t know how to sing.”
Zhao Xing: “Can’t learn? You’re so stupid.”
Luo Mingshan: “Wait a moment.”
Luo Mingshan closed his eyes, his ears twitching slightly. He listened for sounds from the next cell, from upstairs, from the sub-surface level… Among the countless sounds rushing toward him, he found one gentle voice.
—It was a mother in the female ward singing a lullaby to her infant daughter.
This was the first time Luo Mingshan had listened so far.
The sound was very clear.
Luo Mingshan touched his own ear, and following the mother’s tune, he softly hummed the wordless lullaby.
His voice was distant and ethereal, like the soft clash of crystals, carrying a strange power—something like a very gentle comfort, like the voice of a siren from the books.
Before the song was even finished, Zhao Xing’s eyelids grew heavy and closed.
Only after hearing Zhao Xing’s steady breathing did Luo Mingshan stop humming.
He lightly jumped down from his bed and knelt by Zhao Xing’s bedside.
Under the dim nightlight, Zhao Xing’s lips were tightly pressed together, his brows lightly furrowed—as if even in his dreams, he was anxious about the unknown surface world.
Luo Mingshan touched his right ear, which had grown hot from using his power, and an idea for a new way to use it suddenly came to him, as if by instinct.
Luo Mingshan touched Zhao Xing’s ear, then his own, and gently tore off his own right ear.
The moment the human ear was torn off, it turned into a misty, glowing mass. Luo Mingshan pinched it and carefully placed it onto Zhao Xing’s right ear.
The glowing mist slowly infiltrated Zhao Xing’s ear, carrying a power beyond human comprehension.
Luo Mingshan’s right ear grew back, but it felt cold as stone and couldn’t hear anything anymore.
Luo Mingshan gently placed his left ear over Zhao Xing’s heart, listening to his heartbeat, and whispered, “I know Brother Xing is very strong. But the surface is dangerous—a danger even I don’t fully understand. If Brother Xing takes my ear, he’ll become even stronger.”
Luo Mingshan remembered that he had also used his eyes to see distant scenes that day, and he wanted to do the same—give his eyes to Zhao Xing. But when he tried, he couldn’t take them off.
Luo Mingshan was a little disappointed. He leaned in and rubbed his nose against Zhao Xing’s nose bridge: “Sorry, Brother Xing. My eyes aren’t ready yet. I’ll give them to you later.”
After a long while, he whispered to himself, so softly it was almost inaudible:
“Brother Xing, Luo Luo still seems to be useful. Don’t abandon me, okay?”