TYMIMA Chapter 46

That night, Si Hongche dragged his exhausted body back, both physically and mentally at his limit.

 

Blue Pivot had received a tip-off about Black Lantern Society members being spotted. Under pressure from multiple daily calls from Federation councilors, even though Si Hongche thought the report was suspicious, he had no choice but to go in person.

 

After contacting the informant and collecting all the evidence, Si Hongche realized it was a carefully designed scam to claim the reward.

 

It took seven hours to travel from the capital to the site and back, and after carefully reviewing all the fabricated evidence, it was already dark.

 

Si Hongche, always busy, had compressed his sleep to just five hours a night, but today, these people had risked everything for their own gain and wasted his entire day.

 

He put down all the materials, called the informant over with a frosty smile: “This intel is very valuable. Gather everyone who provided clues for fingerprint registration. The Federation government will commend you all.”

 

The informant was overjoyed, thinking his flawless plan had fooled Si Hongche. He quickly called all participants, even telling them to bring their families to get more government rewards.

 

Soon, over forty people, from a few years old to over sixty, were lined up in a row, faces full of greedy excitement, chattering about their bravery.

 

Si Hongche’s brows furrowed into a deep groove. He slowly took off the leather gloves from his belt and put them on meticulously.

 

He raised a finger, pointing at a boy about eight years old, and asked calmly, “Did he also provide important clues?”

 

The informant nodded eagerly: “Yes, this child was the first to spot Mad Clown. That Mad Clown had scary face paint and tried to lure him away with a balloon.”

 

The informant nudged the boy’s back: “Go on, tell the uncle what you saw. It’s all important clues.”

 

The boy stumbled forward, looking up at Si Hongche with fear, stammering, “Y-yes, a really pretty balloon. He tried to trick me and sell me, but luckily I listened to my dad and didn’t go with him. I told my family about him right away.”

 

Si Hongche nodded thoughtfully, then looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. His right hand, moving faster than the eye could see, drew his gun, chambered a round, and pulled the trigger—all in one smooth motion.

 

Bang!

 

The boy’s dark, confused eyes were still fixed on Si Hongche, but blood was already streaming down his face. With that bewildered look, he toppled backward.

 

“Aaaahhh!”

 

“Murder! Murder!”

 

“My son! That’s my son!”

 

The hall erupted in chaos, with over forty people panicking and fleeing in all directions.

 

But Si Hongche just raised a finger slightly, and instantly, everyone trying to escape froze in place, unable to move. Yet their eyes all rolled toward him in terror and pleading.

 

Control system S-level Awakened third-tier ability [Command Obedience]!

 

Si Hongche lowered his gaze, letting the gun spin slowly in his fingers, the faint smell of gunpowder dissipating.

 

He looked a little tired, but his tone was unexpectedly calm: “Who gave you the illusion that I’m easy to fool?”

 

“That man really did call himself Mad Clown. We just happened to see Blue Pivot’s wanted posters for Mad Clown and White Pharaoh, so…”

 

“No! Director Si, we were wrong! Please spare us, he never said he was Mad Clown from Black Lantern Society!”

 

“Director Si, I wasn’t involved, they just called me over, I don’t know anything!”

 

“I admit I was tempted by greed, but how could you… how could you kill a child? He was only eight!”

 

“Serves him right, he was the mastermind—I’m reporting him!”

 

“Spare me, I’ll confess everything!”

 

……

 

Si Hongche frowned, closed his eyes, and covered his ears, as if tired of listening to the noise.

 

As gunshots rang out one after another, bodies fell, and soon the hall was quiet again, with only the lingering stench of blood.

 

In the dead silence, Si Hongche opened his eyes and suddenly asked: “Did he eat?”

 

A nearby inspection team member froze, hurriedly checked the surveillance, and saw that the delivered dinner was still sitting by the barrier, completely cold.

 

The team member shook his head carefully.

 

Si Hongche’s eyes grew cold again. He put away his gun, tore off his gloves, and strode over the corpses.

 

“Back to Blue Pivot!”

 

On the way back, Si Hongche watched the day’s surveillance footage. Other than going to the bathroom, Oliver either slept or gazed out the little window.

 

The quiet moonlight fell on his face, and under its brilliance, he seemed almost pure and sacred.

 

At ten that night, Si Hongche’s official SUV rolled through the darkness and screeched to a stop in front of Blue Pivot.

 

As soon as the wheels stopped, Si Hongche was out of the car, striding into the first-floor lobby.

 

“Director Si!”

 

“Director Si, you haven’t rested yet?”

 

“Good evening, Director Si.”

 

“Thank you for your hard work, Director.”

 

Si Hongche’s face was grim; he only nodded slightly, not slowing his pace.

 

His aide caught up, walking beside him: “Director, you’ve only slept five hours in two days. The back-end system shows you’re over-fatigued. You need to rest.”

 

Si Hongche didn’t respond, heading straight for the seventh floor.

 

The aide quickly added: “Today’s liquid food has already been fed—he didn’t throw it all up!”

 

At that, Si Hongche’s steps finally slowed a little.

 

Under his ability’s control, Oliver couldn’t have suicidal thoughts, but in his current state, it was only a matter of time before his body collapsed. As long as he died of organ failure due to malnutrition, it wouldn’t violate the [Command Obedience] restriction.

 

What made Si Hongche feel even more powerless was that he knew, under the influence of his ability, Oliver’s ruined body wasn’t even his own intention—it was Si Hongche’s “masterpiece.”

 

If only he stopped tormenting Oliver, kept him away, and let him get professional treatment, then under [Command Obedience], Oliver’s health would eventually improve.

 

But…

 

If he let Oliver go, if he softened, felt reluctant—how could he face his sister who died so tragically?

 

Oliver was still alive, Uriel had escaped and disappeared, but only his sister was truly dead. She was only four years old, and he was her only support. It was because of him that she met Oliver, and through that, came into contact with Uriel. Otherwise, she would have grown up happy and carefree, living a brilliant and radiant life of her own.

 

If Oliver could risk everything to protect his brother, then why couldn’t he devote his whole life for his sister?

 

Under the shadow of that horrific tragedy, they were doomed to torment each other, never to rest until death.

 

The elevator rose all the way up and finally stopped at the seventh floor. Si Hongche pinched the bridge of his nose, masking his exhaustion, and stepped out.

 

He finally arrived at that familiar door. The meal Lauen had brought had already been taken away, and there was a faint lemon scent of cleaning agent lingering on the floor—a smell Si Hongche knew well—

 

It was the scent left behind after Oliver was force-fed liquid food and violently vomited, with staff coming to clean up the traces.

 

Through the barrier, Si Hongche saw Oliver curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in his blanket, as if asleep.

 

But after more than ten years as an investigator, Si Hongche could easily tell from the rhythm of the blanket’s rise and fall that this wasn’t the breathing of sleep.

 

Si Hongche sneered inwardly, took out the key to the barrier, and walked straight up to Oliver. Without a trace of pity, he lifted the blanket, revealing the emaciated body beneath the thin prison clothes.

 

“Playing dead?”

 

Si Hongche grabbed Oliver by the back of the collar and yanked him up, not caring that Oliver’s shin banged hard against the stone wall in the process.

 

Oliver let out a low cry of pain, instinctively curling up, burying his head and turning his back to Si Hongche.

 

Seeing him like this, Si Hongche recalled a fleeting moment of pity during his trip, and so his hatred for himself and for Oliver overlapped. He grabbed Oliver’s hair, forcing him to look up: “I thought you’d finally seen through all this, but I didn’t expect you’d still be reluctant to part with a meal delivery boy!”

 

He couldn’t even say what he was angry about—days of exhaustion, pressure from the Federation councilors, the frustration of being deceived, the subconscious anxiety from Oliver not eating, and then, seeing him speak so gently with the delivery guy, he exploded in rage…

 

For these eighteen years, it wasn’t just Oliver who was imprisoned—wasn’t he, too?

 

Oliver squinted in pain, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly under thin skin. He took several quick breaths to calm himself from fear and anxiety, maintaining his wretched posture, barely able to ask, “Are you angry because someone else pities me?”

 

In truth, he hadn’t been numb to Lauen’s kindness and care. In this cold, mechanical Blue Pivot, Lauen was the only one who never gossiped or belittled him behind his back. He had fallen from an S-level powerhouse to this, and anyone could mock him, but Lauen only saw his pain and helplessness.

 

But he couldn’t respond, couldn’t thank him, couldn’t even say goodbye to Lauen at the end of his life—otherwise, not only would he suffer, but Lauen would be in mortal danger.

 

Maybe tonight’s moon was too bright, making him emotional, and he couldn’t help but say farewell to the last friend in his life.

 

But after Lauen left, he quickly sobered up—doing that just satisfied his own selfishness and would only harm Lauen.

 

So he didn’t eat the meal Lauen left.

 

He had wanted to spend his last days like a normal person: eat well, sleep well, appreciate a bit of beauty, and take those memories to the grave.

 

But this meal, he couldn’t eat.

 

As usual, an hour and a half later, the food was taken away and dumped, and a bowl of unpalatable mush was brought in. Someone in sterile gloves grabbed his jaw, fixed his head, inserted a feeding tube through his nose, and force-fed the liquid into his stomach.

 

The process was painful; he could feel his esophagus and stomach wall spasming, but he had no right to refuse.

 

After every session, he was drenched in sweat, exhausted, and on the verge of vomiting.

 

But they watched, not allowing him to throw up all the food. They only left after he’d kept down enough to maintain his vital signs.

 

Fortunately, this was the last time.

 

“Pity you?” Si Hongche’s voice grew even colder, his grip on Oliver’s hair tightening. “Are you worthy of pity? Do you deserve it?”

 

The word “pity” clearly triggered him.

 

Who needs to be pitied by a delivery boy who’s fallen so low?

 

Only someone even lower, more humble, more easily bullied, a more wretched plaything.

 

On the one hand, Si Hongche wanted to use Oliver’s suffering to atone for his sister’s death. On the other, he couldn’t allow anyone to see Oliver as something lowly.

 

This was once Star University’s youngest outstanding graduate, the most dazzling plant system S-level Awakened, one of the brilliant twin stars—no one in the past or future decade could compare.

 

But whether he liked it or not, he knew all too well how others saw Oliver.

 

Oliver’s eyes dimmed.

 

They were back at that dead end, the unbreakable cycle—his whole life ruined by this question.

 

He didn’t know if he was innocent, pitiful, or despicable.

 

The two people he cherished most—one disappeared after making a promise, the other kept him by his side and tormented him for fourteen years.

 

Sometimes he felt these things were his due, that he must have sins he could never atone for.

 

But what sins? Looking back over his life, he still couldn’t figure it out.

 

So he simply stopped thinking, ready to settle everything in the simplest way.

 

Oliver’s eyes were lifeless; he didn’t answer whether he deserved pity. He only murmured, “Si Hongche, I was happy for eighteen years, and in pain for eighteen years. I owe nothing to heaven or earth.”

 

“In your dreams!” Si Hongche’s jaw tightened, his temples throbbing. He leaned in close to Oliver’s ear, hissing each word with hatred: “You will always owe Sui Sui a life. Everything your brother owes, you’ll pay back double.”

 

Fine, just a life.

 

That way, we can finally be done with each other.

 

Oliver managed a weak smile. He seemed to have gotten used to the pain in his hair, letting his hands drop and his body relax, letting Si Hongche hold him like a puppet without a soul.

 

But in the end, Si Hongche let him go. He shouldn’t have said such meaningless things after eighteen years of silence.

 

He was too exhausted today, unable to withstand the emotional turmoil. He desperately needed rest to sort out his tangled thoughts.

 

He vaguely felt Oliver was different, but couldn’t say how. With so much piling up, it all felt like an illusion.

 

The Black Lantern Society was coming on strong, and he had no idea who their target was. Sometimes he even thought, maybe it’d be better if some of those arrogant old men died—no one would be wrongly killed anyway.

 

But he couldn’t. He was the director of Blue Pivot’s District Two; this was his duty.

 

It was the Federation Senate that chose him, gave him the chance to serve and to avenge, granted him power above all, and indulged his relentless pursuit of vengeance. He had to do his job.

 

–

 

The next day, the sky was clear and bright.

 

Lance officially began his meal delivery career. Lauen gave him all the dining preferences—an endless spreadsheet.

 

Lance timed himself reading it from start to finish, eyelids drooping: “So this is how just delivering lunch can take all day.”

 

Turns out, all the world’s allergy sufferers, picky eaters, childhood-trauma types, health nuts, vegetarians, and dieters had gathered together.

 

Tang Li looked at the five-page list of dietary requirements and sucked in a breath: “People at Blue Pivot really live so refined?”

 

Liu Bo: “Refined? I call this pretentious.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan snatched the printout from Lance and hid it behind his back: “If you’re not happy, don’t do it. With your grades, you’ll have no trouble finding a high-paying job after graduation.”

 

Like being the young mistress of Ghost Eye Guild—a great job, relaxing, pleasant environment, easy to get along with colleagues, and includes an arranged marriage.

 

Lance smiled and said seriously: “No need. I’ve already memorized all of this after one look.”

 

Tang Li: “……”

 

Liu Bo: “……”

 

Zhan Pingchuan pulled out the stack of papers from behind his back, flipped through it carefully, then looked at Lance with a complex expression: “Are you sure? You memorized it all?”

 

Lance raised his eyes to look at Zhan Pingchuan and nodded seriously.

 

Zhan Pingchuan was once again struck by the top student’s power: “…Don’t you think it’s a waste to use brain cells to remember such nutritionless stuff?”

 

Lance’s eyes curved: “Not at all, I have plenty of brain capacity left.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan met those smiling fox-like eyes, liking them immensely, and reached out to pinch Lance’s cool cheek, indulging him: “Can you carry it all? I can skip my duties to help you.”

 

He genuinely cared for Lance, but it wasn’t just love-brain thinking.

 

The range of activities in District One was too limited. If he wandered around rashly, it would certainly arouse suspicion. If he could accompany the little red fox on the pretext of delivering meals, he could roughly figure out the structure of each floor of Blue Pivot, and even take the opportunity to study those elevators.

 

Liu Bo: “!” Brother, don’t make this sound as casual as skipping class! You may be a poor student but not an idiot—we’re all tiny shrimp that would die with one squeeze here at Blue Pivot!

 

Lance felt the warmth of Zhan Pingchuan’s fingertips on his cheek and narrowed his eyes comfortably: “What if you get caught skipping duty? Will you be fined?”

 

Tang Li could now view the climate changes in Zhan Pingchuan’s world with a calm heart.

 

“It’s more than just a fine. Teacher White said you’d be put in solitary confinement.”

 

Lance raised his eyebrows slightly, his eyes brightening: “The solitary confinement rooms in all Blue Pivot districts should be the same, right?”

 

Tang Li was confused: “Uh… I guess so.”

 

Lance’s heart stirred. He had been worrying about the barrier blocking his way, making it impossible to understand the internal structure of the confinement room and figure out how to get Oliver out.

 

But now there was an opportunity to understand the confinement room, and it was reasonable and logical, entirely due to a newly-adult Alpha’s enthusiasm for his favored Omega.

 

Lance rested his chin on one hand, tugging at Zhan Pingchuan’s sleeve with the other, his eyes full of sincere expectation: “Classmate Zhan, I don’t think I can carry it all.”

 

Tang Li: “?” Aren’t you supposed to firmly reject him since it could lead to solitary confinement?

 

Zhan Pingchuan smiled back, contentedly saying: “Baby, you’re so considerate.”

 

Tang Li: “……” Is there any way to eliminate love-brain syndrome in this world?

 

##

---

 

 (advanced chapters available on kofi)