TYMIMA Chapter 68

The corpses from AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison were thrown into bottomless ice crevices, forever frozen in the Lotasi Ice Field.

 

The prison area was suddenly filled with nervous tension. Even the most vicious criminals became obedient.

 

They watched through the gaps in the thorns at that killing god who descended from heaven, unanimously having the same thought—fortunately they entered prison late and hadn’t bullied or tortured that person.

 

Even Warden Asmodeus had this thought. He had voluntarily applied to work at AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison ten years ago, just avoiding that person.

 

Otherwise, he believed Si Hongche would have killed him first.

 

Si Hongche surveyed the dirty, cold cells one by one, looking at the pairs of desire-filled eyes emerging from the darkness.

 

Only then did he truly realize that someone pure-hearted, gentle, and kind couldn’t survive here.

 

Perhaps what supported Oliver to live back then was the faith of reuniting with him.

 

But he had personally destroyed that faith.

 

They all deserved to die, and so did he. But before he died, he had to deliver a fatal blow to those who carefully designed this conspiracy.

 

Si Hongche’s boot tip touched the cruel, filthy torture devices left by the corpses. He looked up expressionlessly and extended his hand to Asmodeus: “Retirement list.”

 

His hands still bore pale white scars left by the thorns that would never fade.

 

Asmodeus’s hideous right eye socket quickly contracted. Just as he was about to say something, Si Hongche’s satellite phone suddenly rang.

 

That was an urgent call from the Council of Elders summoning him back.

 

Si Hongche didn’t answer, still staring at Asmodeus.

 

“Retirement list.”

 

Asmodeus’s cloudy left eyeball lingered on Si Hongche’s satellite phone for a few seconds before slowly withdrawing: “They’re almost all dead of old age. You came too late, Director Si.”

 

The phone stopped ringing. Si Hongche stared heavily at Asmodeus, while Asmodeus calmly returned a deep smile.

 

On the third working day after Dawn Day holiday ended, Si Hongche finally returned to the capital city from Lotasi Ice Field.

 

As soon as he entered the restricted zone, before he could change out of his blood-spattered leather jacket, he was summoned by the Council of Elders.

 

Walking into Qian Yun’s twenty-third floor again, stepping on the red carpet with embroidered totems, Si Hongche smelled that paraffin scent again.

 

Very faint, but it covered the bloody smell on his body.

 

As usual, the black-eyed elder opened his eyes to look at him, while the other two elders had white hair draped down, eyes drooping, as if they had entered a realm of no one.

 

“The chief culprit has been brought to justice. Si Hongche, you must know when to stop.”

 

Si Hongche’s gaze hung in mid-air. After several seconds of silence, he slowly lowered his head and bowed: “Yes.”

 

“You should go do what you need to do.” The black-eyed elder reminded.

 

But Si Hongche seemed unable to muster energy. Though appearing submissive, he seemed still immersed in the grief of losing Oliver, muddled and confused.

 

“…Yes.”

 

The black-eyed elder said nothing more.

 

His gaze lingered on Si Hongche for a long time, as if judging Si Hongche’s true inner thoughts.

 

After a while, the black-eyed elder suddenly waved his sleeve robe, and another person emerged from the side room outside the door.

 

Hao Nengyan bent his waist even lower, appearing more respectful: “Elder.”

 

The black-eyed elder closed his eyes, his voice indifferent: “Tell him.”

 

“Yes.” Hao Nengyan responded eagerly.

 

The moment he saw Hao Nengyan on the twenty-third floor, Si Hongche realized he was no longer the most trusted person of the three elders.

 

He had acted on his own initiative to kill in the restricted zone prison and gone to Lotasi Ice Field for revenge, all without the Council of Elders’ permission.

 

In their eyes, he had become less controllable.

 

“Director Si.” Hao Nengyan turned around, looking somewhat smugly at the unshaven, bleary-eyed Si Hongche. “Through Seventh District’s investigation and visits throughout the restricted zone, I discovered a problem.”

 

Si Hongche didn’t even lift his eyelids. Clearly, what Hao Nengyan said held no attraction for him.

 

Hao Nengyan naturally expected this. Right now Si Hongche couldn’t listen to any work content, but he wanted Si Hongche to be cold and perfunctory—this would highlight the excitement to come.

 

Hao Nengyan sneered: “That night, the medical center happened to have a criminal wearing rare lead ore handcuffs. While everyone was shocked by the so-called fifth-tier ability that broke through rare lead ore constraints, he said he only saw people all over the streets. Besides that, he saw no golden snowflakes, no plants worshipping with leaves filling the sky—he saw none of it.”

 

Si Hongche indeed raised his eyes sharply as he wished, pupils trembling.

 

Hao Nengyan was quite pleased: “The doctors on duty were all overwhelmed with shock, but he insisted none of this happened. Later we specifically tested his mental state and found he had no cognitive disorders. If he wasn’t crazy, then could it be that we were crazy?”

 

Si Hongche gritted his teeth tightly, his jaw tensing into sharp lines.

 

Hao Nengyan chuckled lowly: “Director Si probably wouldn’t go crazy, so there’s only one possibility. That night, the Black Lantern Society played a diversionary tactic. While they invaded the underground third floor, someone else went to the seventh floor to rescue that person. What we saw was just his [Virtual Realm].”

 

Si Hongche’s breathing gradually became heavy, veins bulging at his temples.

 

Hao Nengyan: “Oh my, this is awkward. The matter has been clarified—the past events were Dinlock’s frame-up. So does that person still count as a fugitive? Oh! Even if not a fugitive, mixing with the Black Lantern Society means he’s been brainwashed.”

 

Si Hongche said nothing.

 

Hao Nengyan put away his smile, saying coldly: “He did suffer eighteen years for nothing, though that was thanks to you. But the elders are magnanimous and will surely be lenient with him. If you want him to live peacefully for the rest of his life, you still need to pull yourself together, eliminate the Black Lantern Society, and save him from the fire pit.”

 

Saving from the fire pit was fake. Hao Nengyan believed what could truly attract Si Hongche was keeping Oliver by his side.

 

For this, Si Hongche would spare no effort to find the Black Lantern Society.

 

Indeed, Si Hongche immediately clasped his hands and bowed to the elders, his voice as if ground out from between his teeth: “With that clue, I will definitely catch the Black Lantern Society in one net.”

 

The black-eyed elder finally opened his eyes again, nodding to Si Hongche with neither warmth nor coldness: “The private execution matter is past. Don’t disappoint me again.”

 

“Yes.” After Si Hongche responded, he strode out of the council chamber, as if he had shed all confusion and couldn’t wait to capture Oliver back to his side.

 

The black-eyed elder seemed fairly satisfied with his performance, not criticizing his impulsiveness.

 

However, the moment Si Hongche turned his back to the surveillance, all intense emotions disappeared from his face.

 

He stepped into the elevator.

 

Hao Nengyan savored with relish Si Hongche’s entire process from entering wearily to leaving angrily.

 

Over the years, Seventh District had been called useless countless times by Si Hongche. Finally, once, he could see Si Hongche in a sorry state.

 

He had finally vented this anger.

 

The black-eyed elder lifted his eyelids, looking puzzledly at Hao Nengyan who was humming and shaking his leg.

 

“Do you have other business?”

 

“Huh?” Hao Nengyan turned back, pointing at his own nose, quickly shaking his head: “I have no other business, Elder.”

 

The black-eyed elder looked at Hao Nengyan, Hao Nengyan looked at the black-eyed elder. Time seemed to stand still.

 

Only after a while did Hao Nengyan wake up as if from a dream, quickly shrinking his neck and bowing as he backed out: “Then I’ll go back too.”

 

After Hao Nengyan slunk away, the wall behind the council chamber trembled lightly. The huge totem slowly slid, revealing a passage one person wide.

 

Someone walked out from inside. He came before the three elders, fingers interlaced, thumbs turned outward, making that strange moth-like gesture.

 

“Is Si Hongche still trustworthy?”

 

The black-eyed elder gazed distantly at the tightly closed door: “Death Oath Curse is his reason for living.”

 

“Should Hao Nengyan replace Si Hongche’s position?”

 

The black-eyed elder’s ancient, waveless eyes rarely showed disgust: “A waste, not worth heavy use.”

 

–

 

In December, the capital city had its first snowfall.

 

Under Si Hongche’s forceful demands, the First District director reluctantly announced the ‘truth’ of the Uriel incident from eighteen years ago to the public.

 

He naturally concealed the Black Lantern Society’s existence and the fact that Blue Pivot had been infiltrated like a sieve.

 

Dinlock became the originator of all tragedies. The First District director transformed Si Hongche’s private execution into the Federation government’s judgment of Dinlock.

 

[Under the concerted efforts of Blue Pivot’s various districts and the Federation Congress’s persistent pursuit of truth, this wrongful case sealed for eighteen years has finally surfaced.]

 

[Through examination of Dinlock’s personal accounts, we discovered he had financial dealings with over ten illegal organizations and over twenty small guilds. Following these leads, we found factual evidence of his participation in framing Uriel.]

 

[Upholding principles of fairness and justice, the Federation Court judged Dinlock’s crimes. Congress unanimously agreed to the death penalty. Simultaneously, penalties of stripping honorary titles and personal ranks were imposed on the previously sacrificed Officer Kluova, Professor Yuli who committed suicide in fear of punishment, and Star University Principal Yan Qili who was coerced by Dinlock.]

 

[Because victim family member Oliver recently died of illness, this compensation will be received by the Federation government on his behalf, and his funeral will be properly arranged.]

 

[This inquiry into the case from eighteen years ago demonstrates the Federation government’s…]

 

Once the news broke, public opinion was in uproar, but the comments that surged to the front were—

 

“Who is Uriel?”

 

“What wrongful case from eighteen years ago?”

 

“Probably wasn’t anything major—I have no recollection of it.”

 

“Even the victim’s family member is dead. What’s the point of this matter?”

 

“Sigh, I guess justice may be late but won’t be absent. The Federation government’s attitude is still decent.”

 

“At least the truth came to light. This was done well—hope they keep it up.”

 

“I think I remember Uriel was once an outstanding sociologist. Before the incident, he kept pursuing something about… Pia.”

 

“What Pia?”

 

“Can’t remember—it’s been eighteen years.”

 

Due to the Federation government’s ban on historical materials, Uriel’s traces on the internet had been completely erased. Very few people could remember who he was or what he had done.

 

His true death wasn’t eighteen years ago, but in every moment of being forgotten over the long years.

 

–

 

Snow melted, and Star University entered exam week.

 

Under the torment of seven required courses and five electives, students seemed to calmly accept the fact of Yan Qili’s disappearance. After all, he had been dispensable at Star University, serving no real purpose.

 

No new principal had been appointed yet. The school was temporarily managed by four deans. The three deans other than He Jing’en unceremoniously scheduled their major course exams in the first week to demonstrate their importance.

 

Students from the three major colleges suffered terribly, beginning muddled, sleepless review sessions.

 

Zhan Pingchuan was no exception.

 

A top guild backbone who had entered countless underground cities, a spatial system S-level Awakened one, still had to suffer through freshman underground city introduction courses.

 

The key was these courses were obviously armchair theorizing, completely divorced from reality. Learning them provided no help for actual combat.

 

One day he finally couldn’t help calling Chu Fu, asking somewhat directly: “Mom, when can I bring my wife home?”

 

Chu Fu took a deep breath on the other end, responding with a calm, restrained “Mm.”

 

“What does ‘mm’ mean?” Zhan Pingchuan frowned in confusion.

 

Chu Fu was still taking deep breaths. After a long while, she said in a low, brief voice: “Later… we’ll talk.”

 

But Zhan Pingchuan still carefully detected something amiss: “Mom, your voice is hoarse. Do you have a cold? No way—what about your ability?”

 

“Later… we’ll talk.” Chu Fu’s voice seemed squeezed from between her teeth.

 

Zhan Pingchuan persisted: “No, Mom, if you’re uncomfortable don’t tough it out. Where’s Dad? Don’t tell me he went to the guild to work overtime again? Tsk, being so indulgent just because his wife is a recovery system Awakened one—too much! What did he say when you two got married? Wait, I’ll call him right now to come home and confess before your wedding photo!”

 

Zhan Qinghe finally couldn’t stand it anymore, letting out a powerfully intimidating tiger’s roar.

 

Zhan Pingchuan: “…”

 

Zhan Qinghe slapped off the communication with one palm, turned and used his tiger claws to hold Chu Fu in his arms, his barbed tongue lovingly licking every inch of trembling skin.

 

Zhan Pingchuan put down his phone, comforting himself that guessing his parents were doing it wasn’t bad—at least according to genetic patterns, he’d still be very capable in his forties.

 

Little fox was blessed.

 

Since he didn’t dare easily call and ruin his parents’ good time, Zhan Pingchuan could only use the last three days to review and seriously prepare for exams.

 

At this time, the little fox academic achiever in the next bed had already memorized all books for his major and was starting to meddle with his review materials.

 

“Short answer question: What are the uses of withered vine grass in S-level underground cities?”

 

Lance raised his hand to cover the answer, tilting his head toward Zhan Pingchuan.

 

Zhan Pingchuan’s gaze dropped, but could only see Lance’s pale hand back. He had to move his gaze back to the ceiling, struggling to search his brain’s memories.

 

“One, swallow whole to restore enhancement system Awakened ones’ stamina for one hour. Two, crush and apply to wounds to neutralize 30% of rare lead ore damage to Awakened ones. Three, has anesthetic effects on B-level and below mutant beasts?”

 

Lance stared at him seriously, slowly shaking his head.

 

Zhan Pingchuan was surprised, stubbornly trying to lift Lance’s hand: “Impossible, I memorized it.”

 

Lance pulled his hand away.

 

Zhan Pingchuan scanned the dense text and immediately gained confidence, straightening up: “Look, isn’t this—”

 

“—Withered vine grass appears in A-level underground cities, not S-level.” Lance said methodically.

 

Zhan Pingchuan: “…”

 

Lance said seriously: “Basic knowledge not solidly grasped. Extend your hand.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan laughed, raising an eyebrow at the small plastic ruler in Lance’s hand: “Baby, you’re playing this game?”

 

He wasn’t unaware that withered vine grass appeared in A-level underground cities. Lance’s question just made him focus on the latter part while ignoring the stem.

 

Lance weighed the ruler in his hand: “Classmate Zhan, the point is that every word in this passage is important. What if the exam has true/false questions?”

 

“Oh, I see. Alright then.” Zhan Pingchuan smiled meaningfully, extending his right palm toward Lance.

 

Lance glanced at the palm that had moved up from his belly last night, finally kneading his chest, thinking of places still somewhat red and sensitive. His eyes narrowed as he mercilessly raised the ruler and struck five heavy blows.

 

As expected, Zhan Pingchuan’s palm showed faint red.

 

For an S-level Awakened one, this redness didn’t even count as pain. Zhan Pingchuan curled his slender fingers, saying with interest: “Come on, keep testing.”

 

Lance met Zhan Pingchuan’s gaze, slowly pushing up his silver-rimmed glasses: “Analyze the survival probability of animal system B-level Awakened one, enhancement system C-level Awakened one, elemental system B-level Awakened one, recovery system E-level Awakened one against A-level mutant beasts, and list three combat mode concepts to improve win rates.”

 

“…”

 

Combat command was Zhan Pingchuan’s forte, but he wouldn’t memorize this armchair theorizing. In real underground cities, with rapidly changing situations, there was no time for Awakened ones to apply formulas in battle, because mutant beasts wouldn’t behave like in books either.

 

Lance knew Zhan Pingchuan couldn’t answer, struggling to suppress his lip corners as he reminded: “Analysis question, fifteen points, fifteen strikes.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan honored his bet, extending his palm again.

 

Lance raised the ruler but didn’t hurry to strike, stealing a glance at little idiot.

 

Zhan Pingchuan supported his chin with one hand, lazily wiggling his fingers, seemingly unconcerned about these fifteen strikes.

 

Lance thought: That’s for not being well-behaved while sleeping.

 

Smack—

 

After fifteen strikes, Lance was about to withdraw when Zhan Pingchuan caught the ruler with two fingers.

 

Lance looked up.

 

Zhan Pingchuan’s eyes held laughter: “Teacher Lan, let’s discuss this. We can’t have only punishment without rewards, right? What if I answer correctly?”

 

Lance tugged the ruler, finding Zhan Pingchuan gripped it tightly and couldn’t pull it free.

 

“This is just daily review. What rewards do you want? We’ll talk after exams.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan said “Oh” and continued Lance’s words: “So if I do well on finals, Teacher Lan will give me rewards.”

 

Lance alertly pricked up his fox ears, deliberately setting a harsh condition: “Only if you get first in the major.”

 

Little idiot who studied hard for three years only to get last place at Star University had near-zero probability of getting first in major.

 

Who knew Zhan Pingchuan wouldn’t refuse or cheat. His voice was low, carrying light laughter: “Alright, first in major. Then Teacher Lan can’t punish me anymore for things like last night, and I’ll be even more excessive.”

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)