TYMIMA Chapter 54

From the moment Lance saw Oliver, he had been restrained, gentle, and calm.

 

That was the resignation of someone about to face death. When life itself was no longer important, then these unbearable past events need not be dwelt upon either.

 

But now, Lance saw Oliver’s real, painful, unwilling emotions. These emotions were certainly cruel, but they were what a living person should possess.

 

Late at night, in the corridor, this was not a safe situation. Every minute, every second felt like walking on a tightrope over a cliff.

 

So Lance couldn’t give Oliver more time to fall into collapse.

 

Oliver seemed to have used all his strength to grip the barrier in his palms. His knuckles turned white, and his pale blue veins were severely congested. Fortunately, Si Hongche had ordered all the fibers to be smoothed away; otherwise, those sharp points would have deeply pierced his palms, taking a long time to heal.

 

“I’m… sorry, Teacher… sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

 

Oliver apologized repeatedly, desperately, to the point that these three words became the most fluent, the smoothest sentence he could say at this moment.

 

Back then, he had abandoned his plans for further studies, politely declined He Jing’en’s invitation, and set aside his own dreams.

 

He Jing’en’s eyes showed deep regret, and how could he not feel regret too? But in the end, despite the torment in his heart and his guilt toward He Jing’en, he chose to come to Blue Pivot.

 

At that time, his future was vague and unclear. It seemed everyone said that for someone with S-level talent not to serve the Federation government or earn a high salary at a top guild was wasteful, shameful, and willfully degrading.

 

Even though he knew in his heart that he didn’t like competition or killing, he couldn’t bring himself to refute these well-intentioned but mountainously heavy life suggestions.

 

Moreover, he had to think about his and Si Hongche’s future; he had to take on half the responsibility.

 

On the eve of graduation, He Jing’en patted his shoulder with a smile, instead comforting him: “Go ahead, the world is vast. It’s never too late to do research.”

 

However, not long after he entered Blue Pivot, trouble came. He was imprisoned for a full eighteen years. The vast world had nothing to do with him anymore.

 

Over these years, he had forgotten many things, overlooked many things. He inevitably fell into self-loathing, as if death was the only explanation he could give to everyone.

 

He had forgotten that even without his brother, there were still people who loved him, thought of him, hoped he would live, and wished for his safety.

 

He was not disconnected from this world. In his teacher’s heart, he was never someone insignificant.

 

Lance pressed his advantage, making Oliver raise his head to look into his eyes. His amber eyes were filled with deep calm: “Before dying, don’t you want to see him?”

 

Oliver knelt obediently, looking at Lance with confused, broken eyes. Tears had left two crystalline tracks on his face, and his curly, pale eyelashes hung wet with moisture.

 

He finally nodded gently: “…Want to.”

 

He hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye. He wasn’t free of all debts; he owed a heavy, long-standing debt of gratitude.

 

Lance didn’t understand how Si Hongche could be so heartless toward such an Oliver.

 

This person clearly had the purest kindness, the softest heart. Even though he was covered in wounds, he couldn’t bear to let anyone down.

 

He was like a clear, sweet, gentle spring, attracting all tired, reclusive, obsessive souls to draw strength from him. After gaining this strength, these incomplete souls would then trample him mercilessly.

 

—Too weak, you’re too weak.

 

Lance seemed to hear the Outer God’s voice coming from his memory, cold, terrifying, inescapable.

 

Why?

 

Even though they had done nothing wrong, merely because they were chosen by misfortune, they had to endure mental torture year after year, either to be reborn from the ashes or to vanish into dust.

 

He was fortunate to break free from fear; the Outer God coexisted with him, becoming a source of part of his power. But Oliver was someone he saw with his own eyes being devoured by misfortune.

 

How lucky must one be to escape from such a situation?

 

Feeling sympathy for one of his kind, why not bring him this luck?

 

Lance’s expression suddenly became very serious. He asked Oliver to concentrate and listen carefully to what he was about to say.

 

“Oliver, the Black Lantern Society has decided to reject your application.” He completely tore off the disguise of a Star University student, switching to the White Pharaoh’s tone.

 

Oliver trembled slightly, his fingers sliding off the barrier. Even though he was mentally prepared, when he heard this news, he still didn’t know what to do.

 

If not death, what should he do?

 

He was still a prisoner in the confinement room, restricted in every way. The last time Si Hongche took him to Star University, he wasn’t allowed to see his teacher. Instead, Si Hongche humiliated him on the playground where they had walked hand in hand countless times.

 

Truth, revenge, repaying kindness—each seemed like a mirage to him, distant and hopeless.

 

“—Listen to me.” Lance promptly interrupted Oliver’s dejection, his clear voice reaching his ears. “Perhaps, besides death, you could also choose to become a member of the Black Lantern Society.”

 

Oliver’s eyes widened suddenly, holding his breath, unbelievably stopping his tears.

 

Lance smiled: “Surprised? How could you really think you’re worthless? You’re a genius from Star University’s youth class, a promising historical scholar, a plant system S-level Awakened one. Just these alone are enough to make countless people look up to you for their entire lives. So rather than taking your gland, I’d prefer you to work for the Black Lantern Society. In return, I will guarantee your safety, promise you freedom, and pay you compensation.”

 

He was the actual leader of the Black Lantern Society; he had the authority to recruit an Awakened one he approved of. Moreover, given Oliver’s qualifications, this was indeed a cost-effective offer.

 

“I’m… not…” Oliver instinctively refuted, but found he had no grounds for refutation. Lance hadn’t used exaggerated words, just calmly stated his past.

 

It had been a long time since anyone had affirmed his value.

 

Value, such a precious word.

 

He actually had value too, was needed too. After getting used to those contemptuous and disdainful looks, someone was actually willing to accept him.

 

Why did this organization, which always pronounced death, bring him hope?

 

“…Alright, I’m willing.” Oliver’s voice trembled violently, as if making this response required him to gather a lot of courage.

 

His eyes didn’t blink as he observed Lance’s expression, afraid that what he’d just heard was only his hallucination, his delusion, his misunderstanding, afraid that in the next second, he would fall back into hell.

 

“—Then next, let’s discuss how to give you freedom.”

 

Lance didn’t torture Oliver’s fragile, sensitive heart. He didn’t see himself as some kind of savior; he wasn’t that great.

 

Oliver had value, and he recognized that value, nothing more.

 

“First, I need you to find a way to get something that belonged to Si Hongmei.” Lance arranged methodically.

 

Oliver looked puzzled.

 

“The Black Lantern Society has someone who can summon spirits through objects. No one knows better about what happened back then than Si Hongmei herself. If you want to know the truth, you have to ask her.”

 

Oliver was stunned. Could such an ability really exist in this world?

 

He quickly came to his senses and nodded.

 

Something that belonged to Sui Sui—in this world, perhaps only he could get it.

 

“I’ll figure out how to get the key to the barrier door. I have blood to purify the restriction and Bone Flower to quickly restore physical strength. The Black Lantern Society has an Awakened one with teleportation ability who can take you to a safe place.” Lance curled his lips, a calculating gleam flashing in his eyes. “But before that, we need to give Si Hongche a grand final performance.”

 

The indicator light in the elevator suddenly lit up, a glaring red jumping and continuously climbing upward.

 

The sound abruptly stopped, and a gust of wind swept up from the bottom of the atrium, blowing through the empty corridor.

 

In the quiet night, thin pale fingers silently withdrew, retreating into the darkness.

 

The red light on the surveillance camera flickered slightly, and the image returned to normal.

 

With a “clang,” the elevator door opened on the sixth floor. The on-duty inspection team member yawned, stomping his foot to activate the voice-controlled lights.

 

He leaned against the railing, tilting his head to look up and down, finding nothing unusual before lazily scratching his head. He symbolically patrolled the corridor once, then ran back to the office to enjoy the air conditioning.

 

Lance left the Blue Pivot building, hurrying back to the dormitory. The cameras along the way successively returned to normal after he moved out of their monitoring range.

 

“Duma, well done. Go to sleep.” Lance encouraged in a low voice.

 

“Mm, Lance should also sleep early.” Duma’s obedient voice came through the earpiece.

 

Lance certainly knew that replacing surveillance footage with recordings wasn’t foolproof.

 

Once someone reviewed that night’s surveillance and played it back several times, they could easily discover the irregularities.

 

Insect sounds, light shadows, computer screen flickering, elevator operations—all were unavoidable flaws.

 

And Duma’s ability was like a powerful virus that paralyzed Blue Pivot’s original control center, but the intrusion would ultimately leave traces in Blue Pivot’s system, even though Duma had used operational malfunctions as cover.

 

So the longer this dragged on, the greater the risk. It had to be resolved within three days.

 

Lance walked to the back window of the dormitory. Before going in, he instinctively glanced at Zhan Pingchuan’s room.

 

A drop of dew from a leaf fell on his earlobe. Lance brushed away the water mark, his gaze becoming gentle.

 

The little idiot must be sleeping soundly, probably with his head covered and belly exposed again, not caring about catching cold.

 

Carefree, being a lazy, easygoing college student, with his mind only on finding lame excuses to kiss his gland or finding ways to make him happy every day. That was good.

 

Supporting one person wouldn’t cost much.

 

When the time was right, he’d tell him the truth. If he wanted to run, then… knock him unconscious.

 

Lance quietly opened his window, jumped in light as a swallow, turned to close the window, then took off his outer clothes, put away the pen, and hurried to sleep.

 

Zhan Pingchuan had made it to the second basement level in one go.

 

Starting from the first basement level, all ventilation ducts were made of rare lead ore.

 

He really admired the Federation government’s rare lead ore reserves. This was a resource that could only be mined from S-level underground cities, yet they used it to make ventilation ducts.

 

Finding the correct path wasted a lot of Zhan Pingchuan’s time. He knew the laboratory on the first basement level and the weapons storage on the second basement level were also heavily monitored. Having learned from his previous harrowing experience, he didn’t dare be careless again. So while relying purely on physical strength to climb, he also had to ensure he made no sound.

 

After more than an hour of high-intensity exercise, when he crawled out of the air inlet, he nearly collapsed from oxygen deprivation.

 

His clothes were covered with dirt, black and gray patches everywhere, looking like he’d crawled out of a garbage bin.

 

Zhan Pingchuan dragged his aching muscles and finally made it back to the dormitory before the sanitation workers started at five in the morning.

 

He deliberately went to Lance’s window and glanced through the curtains.

 

The blanket was bulging. Lance slept well, with his hands and feet obediently tucked inside, leaving only his reddish-brown hair scattered across the pillow.

 

Zhan Pingchuan suddenly felt the satisfaction of a male beast returning to its nest with spoils, seeing the innocent female beast sleeping peacefully.

 

He slowly backed away, jumped into his room with his last bit of strength, endured his fatigue, stripped off his dirty clothes, and threw them in the sink to soak.

 

Then Zhan Pingchuan quickly showered. Not waiting for his hair to dry, he collapsed on the bed and fell into deep sleep.

 

At seven in the morning, the first batch of inspection team members arrived at their workstations. It was finally time for shift change.

 

The Seventh District team member coming for the shift change was startled by his colleague’s heavy dark circles and dazed expression: “Damn, what did you do yesterday? You look like your life force was sucked out.”

 

The colleague lifted his heavy eyelids, saying weakly: “Do you believe this building is haunted?”

 

“Nonsense, would ghosts dare come to the Blue Pivot building?”

 

The colleague looked dazed: “Last night when I went to the bathroom, just as I unzipped my pants, the bathroom light suddenly went out. I thought I’d go check if there was a power outage, then I heard sobbing sounds from upstairs. Damn… I almost pissed myself.”

 

“Pfft! Look at your courage. You’re not the only one on duty in the building, and there’s someone locked upstairs too.”

 

The colleague wiped his face: “Really, I even got brave enough to go up, but there was nothing there, and the crying stopped. No exaggeration, my back was covered in cold sweat, and I ran all the way back to the duty room.”

 

“Hey, according to horror movie logic, curious people like you who go up alone are always the first to die.”

 

The colleague: “Get lost! You said it yourself, there’s someone locked upstairs. If a ghost’s going to kill, it’ll kill him first.”

 

“Tsk, but that person is S-level. Do you think an S-level could beat a ghost?”

 

The colleague sneered: “What S-level? Real S-levels are all in high positions with great achievements. That person is just a plaything for other S-levels to vent on. What real ability could he have?”

 

“I remember he’s a plant system S-level, a real combat type.”

 

The colleague curled his lip: “Doesn’t live up to the name. He only survived back then because Director Si took a fancy to his looks. I say the higher-ups are just hypocritical—don’t they just think he’s good to screw? But for an S-level to fall to his level, that’s really a disgrace to his family for generations.”

 

“Shh, I think you’re really sleep-deprived. Have you forgotten how Yuejia died?”

 

……

 

The idle chatter abruptly stopped when another colleague entered. The duty team member picked up his coat and went back to catch up on sleep, while the remaining people continued their busy new day of work.

 

Lance and Zhan Pingchuan both unsurprisingly overslept.

 

Tang Li was anxiously stamping his feet outside: “Why aren’t they awake yet? If they’re late again, Teacher White will punish them.”

 

Liu Bo checked his watch. Time was running short—only ten minutes left before work check-in.

 

“Should you knock on a door?”

 

“Whose door?” Tang Li said painfully. “We don’t even know in whose room they were… crashing into icebergs yesterday.”

 

Liu Bo: “……” Damn, why did he understand such an abstract reference immediately?

 

In the end, they decided to knock on Zhan Pingchuan’s door first. After all, he was an Alpha with better stamina, so they wouldn’t face the awkward situation of Lance answering the door.

 

Liu Bo took a deep breath, turned his face away to avoid seeing anything inappropriate, then knocked heavily twice.

 

“Brother Zhan, you’re going to be late, get up! Brother Zhan, or you’ll be fired!”

 

His voice was loud and actually woke Zhan Pingchuan up.

 

Zhan Pingchuan forced his eyes open several times before succeeding. He shook his head, barely becoming alert, threw off the covers, and got out of bed.

 

Why did it feel like he’d just fallen asleep and already had to work? Was an eight o’clock start really reasonable? Even a donkey grinding grain wouldn’t be this miserable.

 

His brow furrowed into a deep groove. He reached for the door, but the lactic acid accumulated in his muscles fully kicked in, making his calf hurt so much he nearly lost his balance.

 

“Hiss… I’m awake, I’m awake.”

 

Tang Li’s eyes widened, sensitively looking at Zhan Pingchuan’s calf.

 

How… how was he the one with weak legs…

 

So frail?

 

Fortunately, Kilimanjaro didn’t melt in front of him.

 

Liu Bo was still turning his head away. He coughed lightly, reminding: “Have Classmate Lance get up too. It’s getting late.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan: “Mm, hm? He’s not up yet?”

 

Liu Bo: “?” Don’t you know whether he’s up or not?

 

Just then, there was movement next door. A door opened, and Lance poked his head out in pajamas, forcing himself to be alert: “I’m up.”

 

Tang Li saw Lance come out of another room, slightly surprised, falling into thought.

 

It was Schrödinger’s frailty.

 

Liu Bo realized he had misunderstood. Indeed, Classmate Zhan and Classmate Lance were very serious about their internship work, staying pure and chaste all night.

 

Liu Bo adjusted his expression and greeted energetically: “Classmate Zhan, Classmate Lance, you both didn’t sleep well last night, did you?”

 

Lance hid the ice pack he’d been using on his eyes, chuckling: “How could that be? I rarely sleep so soundly.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan blinked hard, suppressing the bloodshot in his eyes, puzzled: “Can’t you see I’m glowing after a full night’s sleep?”

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)