TYMIMA Chapter 57

The vine paused for a moment, then unhesitatingly pierced into the ground. The grass swayed before the small resting grave, soil tumbled down, and soon a somewhat faded beige hair clip was coiled out by the vine.

 

The soil quietly covered back up, the grass returned to its original state.

 

Oliver gently collected the hair clip in his palm.

 

This was the gift he gave Sui Sui when he first met her.

 

Sui Sui was a thoughtful little girl. Every time she saw him, she would deliberately clip on the hair clip and constantly tell him how much she liked it.

 

Actually, Oliver wasn’t sure how much she really liked it, because for a girl who had depended on her brother since childhood, she was more eager than anyone to keep the person who made her brother happy.

 

Sui Sui always said he was gentler than her brother, that her brother was too fierce. She also said he studied better than her brother, that her brother was stupid. She even said he was the most beautiful Omega in the world and must have lost his mind to fall for her brother.

 

Oliver knew those weren’t Sui Sui’s true feelings. She was just too sensible. She understood that she was still young and inevitably took up her brother’s time. Only by making Oliver like her could her brother relax a little.

 

Oliver felt sorry for her precocity, sorry that she had never received parental love since birth.

 

But Sui Sui, I’m truly sorry—I’m not the person who makes your brother happy.

 

In the illusion, Si Hongche watched the dazed Oliver walk to an obviously malnourished pine tree.

 

He seemed to finally regain some rationality, kneeling and carefully placing the tray beside him.

 

Then, he used those pale, thin hands to dig through grass and soil. Dirt got under his fingernails, and broken twigs left intersecting scratches on the backs of his fingers.

 

He seemed unaware of the pain, digging forcefully, stroke by stroke.

 

The setting sun illuminated his profile, and that curly golden hair seemed to regain its former brilliant luster.

 

Si Hongche unconsciously stopped in his tracks.

 

—Today I learned “Awakening Levels and Genetics.” Teacher He said levels are like IQ—they might be inherited, but could also regress to the mean. That means our baby in the future might only be F-level.

 

—F-level, hmm… that’s fine too.

 

—I thought you’d be disappointed.

 

—Even if it’s F-level, with our protection, it will grow up safely. It doesn’t even need to be too outstanding. I’ll make sure it and Sui Sui live comfortably, without worries for life.

 

—You seem like you’d be a doting father.

 

—A baby born from our little olive tree should be a fragile little sapling that needs to be doted on.

 

—No, I hope he’s a pine, tough and tenacious.

 

Si Hongche thought he had forgotten those trivial, distant memories. They were buried under hatred, distortion, and anger, like a rotting ship sunk to the ocean floor, never to surface again.

 

But when sunlight happened to fall on the sea surface, when the waves were calm, they stubbornly revealed their shadows, appearing before him in the most tragic form.

 

Pine.

 

It turned out neither of them had forgotten.

 

But they could only bury it this way. It never became a life that lived comfortably without worries, but instead became a thorn in the heart, a bleeding knife, an absurd mistake, and something unspeakable that must never be mentioned.

 

Oliver stared blankly at the small pit before him. His fingers were already covered with dirt, so he used his relatively clean palm heel to carefully cradle that piece of tissue and bury it in the small pit.

 

He didn’t need much ceremony, nor many tears, because the time he truly lost it was eighteen years ago.

 

Oliver bent down, closed his eyes, and placed a kiss on the soft earth.

 

The sunlight slanted, and a pine branch happened to provide shade over his head.

 

Si Hongche’s eyes stung, his fingers clenched tightly.

 

He couldn’t erect a monument for it, couldn’t carve words for it. It was destined to become a nameless, insignificant soul in this vast cemetery.

 

It didn’t even know that he had also thought about being a doting father.

 

Oliver straightened up, his pale lips stained with dirt particles. He didn’t speak to Si Hongche again, but silently turned and walked toward the cemetery exit.

 

He never looked back, never glanced at that malnourished little pine tree. The shade of the pine branches could no longer reach the hem of his clothes, so they trembled and let go, watching him walk farther and farther away.

 

Si Hongche’s heart was torn apart. His gaze stubbornly fixed on the direction of the little pine tree, afraid he wouldn’t remember the burial location, wouldn’t remember that patch of smoothed earth.

 

Oliver calmly walked past him, so calm it was almost abnormal.

 

All along, Oliver had been the emotionally rich one, while he remained restrained and calm.

 

But recently Oliver’s emotions had become fewer and fainter. When trapped in the Spirit Realm system, Oliver was like an exquisite doll with no reaction whatsoever. Only when the pain became unbearable would Oliver show a twisted expression, but once he could endure it, he would no longer speak.

 

A few months ago, Oliver would still scream and plead, but not anymore.

 

Today especially.

 

Oliver clearly knew he had softened, clearly knew he regretted not listening to that sentence back then. When his psychological defenses were most vulnerable, clearly… clearly he could have…

 

But Oliver demanded nothing, asked for nothing. Si Hongche followed him, waiting all the way, until he walked through that thorny door, never begging him for anything.

 

Oliver walked into the darkness, curled up on the bed. The narrow light couldn’t reach him, autumn wind’s tendrils couldn’t touch him. The thorns locked him in tightly, yet also seemed to shut out everything from the outside world.

 

Si Hongche suddenly felt enormous emptiness and loss.

 

He suddenly didn’t know what he wanted. Give up everything and start a new life? He couldn’t do it. Continue tormenting this person he once loved most? That didn’t make him happy either.

 

The only thing he knew was that he didn’t want this person to die.

 

He would do everything in his power to keep Oliver alive until he found the final answer.

 

Si Hongche’s vision darkened, nausea churning in his stomach. The overwhelming emotions left no room for further thought. What he needed now was immediate rest.

 

The last trace of light disappeared from the horizon, and dusk fell completely.

 

Blue Pivot building lit up with brilliant lamps. Inspection team members working overtime hurried back and forth in the corridors, and air conditioning continuously blew cold air toward the huge offices.

 

No different from any ordinary day.

 

The dismissal bell rang at Harbor Tan First Middle School. The teacher’s closing words were still stuck in her throat when Lily grabbed her backpack, swung her legs, and flashed out of the classroom at sprint speed, her long blue braids leaving a merciless afterimage before the teacher’s eyes.

 

The teacher stared dumbfounded at the swaying classroom door and Lily’s empty desk, finally erupting in fury: “Lily! Stop right there! I’m calling your parents!”

 

But Lily had already left the teacher’s voice far behind.

 

Without stopping, she quickly glanced at the children’s smartwatch on her wrist. There were still thirty minutes before mom finished making dinner—thirty minutes, exactly the time for her to take the school bus home.

 

Lily ran out of the teaching building, turned into the grove, and shouted at the top of her lungs: “Lukas!”

 

“Call me Brother Mad Clown, got it!” came an exasperated voice from the phone watch. As soon as the voice fell, Lily vanished from the school.

 

When she opened her eyes again, Lily landed with a “thud” on a soft bed.

 

She scrambled up sprawled out and discovered this was no longer a men’s restroom, but a fully equipped dormitory.

 

“Lance?”

 

Lance wasn’t there.

 

Lily looked around with her backpack on and finally found words Lance had left on his notebook at the desk—

 

Li Chenfeng will drop the key to the thorns in the sixth floor restroom, discovering it an hour later.

 

Lily muttered: “Who’s Li Chenfeng?”

 

But she obediently took out her notebook and pen, activated her first-tier ability, and copied Lance’s note exactly.

 

After writing, she flipped through Lance’s notebook.

 

She discovered the previous page was filled with recipes and corresponding names—

 

Krish, lamb pilaf with less oil.

 

John Hill, salmon arugula sandwich.

 

Luo Song, stir-fried broccoli without garlic or salt.

 

…

 

In the corner of this page, a line of slanted small text read: Little idiot loves spicy beef.

 

Lily scratched her forehead, puzzled: “What an avant-garde name. What were the parents thinking?”

 

“Tsk, are you done yet? The second bus is about to leave,” Mad Clown asked, timing it precisely.

 

Lily: “Oh… yes!” Damn school bus, she didn’t even get to greet Lance.

 

In the blink of an eye, Lily disappeared from Lance’s dormitory.

 

At the same time, the aide burped and patted his stomach, feeling a bit full.

 

He put down the work Si Hongche had given him before resting and got up, planning to go to the restroom near the office.

 

But as soon as he walked through the restroom door, he found a sign inside and a cleaning worker running water to wash the toilet stalls.

 

The aide had to back out. He originally planned to go to other restrooms on the seventh floor, but passing by the elevator, he found it had just stopped on the seventh floor.

 

This way, taking the elevator down to the sixth floor restroom would actually be closer.

 

The aide didn’t think much about it, pressed the elevator button, and went up.

 

He quickly finished his business in the sixth floor restroom, pulled his belt tight again, then stepped out to leave.

 

Not long after he left, Lance entered the restroom and casually picked up the thorny key from the sink.

 

He placed his anchor point on the key, and instantly, the key disappeared.

 

In Harbor Tan City, a locksmith who had been waiting for a long time immediately made a one-to-one replica of the key. In less than an hour, the key replication was complete.

 

Mad Clown pinched his nose and gulped down the potion Fata had concocted, forcibly suppressing the urge to be knocked unconscious by the smell, cursing: “After this time, I’m applying for an extremely long vacation!”

 

Without taking Fata’s medicine, he had no way to maintain [Shadow Anchoring] for the entire night.

 

Fata looked at him sympathetically, his voice still hoarse and strange: “There’s, an animated character, eats spinach, replenishes energy, you, and him, similar.”

 

Mad Clown propped himself up with one hand, covering his throat and dry heaving: “This tastes much worse than spinach—ugh—”

 

Fata: “Next time, I’ll make, delicious…”

 

Mad Clown weakly grabbed his collar, complaining: “This is already your hundred and first promise to me—ugh—”

 

There was no choice—his ability was really useful, but his MP (mana points) really couldn’t keep up. In the entire Black Lantern Society, he consumed the most of Fata’s medicine. If he kept eating like this, he’d lose his human sense of taste.

 

Mad Clown forcibly suppressed the urge to vomit, recovered his strength, then sent both keys to Lance together.

 

Lance quickly put the original back on the sink exactly as it was, while he slipped into a stall.

 

Soon, he heard hurried footsteps outside. Li Chenfeng pushed the door open and burst in, his gaze sweeping around the restroom before sharply looking toward the sink.

 

“Phew, that was close.” Li Chenfeng breathed a sigh of relief, pocketed the key, and turned to leave.

 

Lance waited until he was gone before unhurriedly emerging from the stall.

 

The aide pocketed the key, walked back to the seventh floor, picked up the nutritional fluid placed at the door, and opened Oliver’s room.

 

Oliver still lay curled up motionlessly on the bed, so quiet that even his breathing couldn’t be heard.

 

The aide’s feelings were inevitably complicated seeing him now.

 

When he first started the job, he heard about Si Hongche and Oliver’s past and couldn’t help feeling indignant, thinking Oliver was a bastard who betrayed love and harbored a murderer.

 

He even thought Si Hongche was too indecisive for not directly ending Oliver’s life.

 

Later, Si Hongche began tormenting Oliver by any means necessary. Heart-wrenching cries often came from the confinement room and the director’s office.

 

The aide felt vindicated and satisfied—enemies shouldn’t be shown mercy.

 

But as time dragged on, watching Oliver grow thinner, more vacant, more dazed, and mentally unstable day by day, the aide finally felt it was somewhat cruel.

 

But Second District’s swift and decisive atmosphere quickly made him abandon such sentimental thoughts.

 

Reluctance meant handing your weakness to the enemy.

 

Later, Oliver’s body began to break down. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, the aide would find it hard to imagine an S-level powerhouse becoming so weak, as if he could be crushed with just a little force.

 

For Si Hongche’s sake, for Second District’s stability, the aide had to ensure Oliver could survive, so at Si Hongche’s request, he began force-feeding Oliver liquid nutrition.

 

Inserting a gastric tube was truly painful. Each time, Oliver wanted to vomit out all his internal organs, even vomiting until he convulsed and curled up on the ground.

 

He didn’t know from which time, but the aide began preparing a lidocaine local anesthetic for him.

 

Until today, when the aide learned that Oliver had lost a child at AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison years ago, he finally began to pity this person.

 

Perhaps because he had become a father himself, he could better understand the pain of losing a child. He also knew that given AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison’s methods, Oliver must have been extremely desperate when forced to abort.

 

The aide placed the nutritional fluid beside Oliver’s bed: “Today’s portion has apple juice and xylitol added. Drink it quickly.”

 

The aide felt he was sick—Oliver had clearly undergone the abortion surgery eighteen years ago, yet here he was improving his food today.

 

Oliver didn’t move.

 

The aide was already used to Oliver’s silence. He cursed himself silently while turning to leave.

 

But just then, he heard Oliver’s very soft voice from behind: “Thank you.”

 

The aide suddenly wanted to laugh.

 

Thank him for what? For dragging him from the confinement room each time to be tortured by Si Hongche’s side?

 

Or for gripping his throat and forcibly inserting the gastric tube, ignoring his struggles while pouring down hard-to-swallow liquid food?

 

He had only added apple juice once—for him, it was just a small effort.

 

“No need. Just eat obediently, keep living, and don’t cause me trouble.” The aide said coldly.

 

He didn’t look back, continuing to walk out. As the thorny door was heavily closed and the lock clicked shut, he suddenly heard a faint “sorry.”

 

Sorry?

 

Did he say sorry?

 

The aide frowned, looked once more into the darkness, then left feeling unsettled.

 

The clock hand pointed to 2 AM. Zhan Pingchuan rechecked the equipment Chu Fu had given him.

 

He put down the iris replicator and fingerprint copy stickers, taking out the infrared jammer and virus for covering surveillance footage.

 

Finally, he tucked Chu Fu’s pheromones into his chest.

 

Fortunately, when he compared the ventilation duct map he had drawn after multiple explorations with the underground scan of the ancient building sent by Ghost Eye Guild, he found the original architect had borrowed 100% from it.

 

So without delay, he decided to act tonight.

 

After making up his mind, Zhan Pingchuan went out and knocked on Lance’s door.

 

“Little classmate Lan, are you asleep?”

 

After a while, the door opened. Lance’s red hair was messy, rubbing his eyes, drowsily poking his head out: “What’s wrong?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan pulled away his hand that was rubbing his eyes red, brushed aside the messy hair scattered on his forehead, and asked softly: “Did I wake you up?”

 

Lance shook his head but still looked dazed.

 

Zhan Pingchuan’s fingers slid from Lance’s forehead to his cheek, stroking it, then suddenly leaned over and kissed the corner of his lips: “I’m so terrible. Baby was sleeping so well, and I actually woke you up.”

 

Lance licked the corner of his lips, looking up puzzled: “Did you suddenly want to kiss me?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan chuckled and nodded: “Mm, couldn’t sleep. Need a kiss to fall asleep.”

 

He couldn’t tell Lance that he was going to do something very dangerous tonight. If he failed, he might never again appear in Lance’s pure, simple life.

 

He couldn’t possibly let Lance become a Federation fugitive like him. He would disappear and try his best to distance himself from Lance.

 

So he couldn’t help wanting to make a casual farewell.

 

“Making excuses again.” Lance muttered softly but didn’t refuse, then rested his chin in Zhan Pingchuan’s palm.

 

Zhan Pingchuan cupped his fair little face, captured his moist, full lips, the kiss going from initially gentle to later passionate and urgent.

 

Tongues intertwined, ambiguous wet sounds echoed in both their ears. Lance’s ear tips gradually reddened as his arms tightly encircled Zhan Pingchuan’s neck.

 

They kissed for quite a while. Lance was breathless, burying his head against Zhan Pingchuan’s neck.

 

“When you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you a secret.” Zhan Pingchuan said.

 

Lance looked up: “Hm?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan covered his eyes with his palm, mysteriously saying: “Sleep well tonight, and I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.”

 

“Alright then.” Lance obediently agreed.

 

Zhan Pingchuan finally bit gently at Lance’s gland, not marking him, just leaving very shallow teeth marks.

 

The door closed again. Lance swept aside his messy red hair, the sleepiness in his eyes instantly vanishing completely.

 

He crossed his arms, squinting at the tightly closed door.

 

Little idiot was acting strange tonight. He looked as carefree as always, but the smile in his eyes wasn’t relaxed.

 

But Lance had no extra energy to think about it—he had more urgent matters tonight.

 

The next moment, Lance decisively withdrew his gaze and said to the Black Lantern Society members standing ready in his earpiece: “Fifteen-minute countdown, prepare for action.”

 

Moth Rong Weng emerged from his sleeve upon hearing this, clenched its little claws, wildly shook its antennae, and stood at the ready.

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)