Song Bunan couldn't understand why Xin Yi, despite having his own protective red string and the note from the Ghost Messenger, was suddenly enveloped in dark energy. He watched as Xin Yi walked into the bathroom, arms crossed and legs shaking as he tried to make sense of the situation.
He sent a message to their group chat, but it sank like a stone without any response. Frustrated, he copied the message and sent it to other friends. Lin Mo Hui replied quickly: "You're the expert; why are you asking others?"
What do you mean I'm an expert? Song Bunan thought, bewildered. Although he could meet and talk with ghosts and the Ghost Messenger to help with tasks, he didn't possess any deeper skills. He had long realized that he wasn't cut out for studying feng shui or metaphysics, so he had given up on that path early on. Whenever there was a problem, he sought outside help. Usually, Shui Su served as his textbook, but today his usual support was unavailable and time was of the essence.
I might as well knock on the neighbor's door! He thought, putting on his shoes and preparing to leave when suddenly everything went dark. He found himself crashing onto his bed.
It had been years since he had been forcibly summoned by the Ghost Messenger; the sudden fainting caught him off guard. When he opened his eyes again, he was face-to-face with the familiar Black Cloak—Brother.
"Brother, what a surprise! If I hadn't been by the bed, I would have fallen to the floor," Song Bunan complained sharply, hoping to evoke some sympathy from him.
The Ghost Messenger ignored him but extended a hand as if pulling something from thin air. A sudden chill made Song Bunan shiver, prompting him to ask what had been taken.
"The curse that the Ghost Messenger placed on you," Brother replied, always shrouded in mist, looking more comforting than last night’s encounter. Song Bunan rubbed his nose in disdain at the memory of last night’s visitor. He despised those who schemed behind his back; even if it was the Ghost Messenger, he still felt animosity.
"Does that mean Xin Yi has one too? I noticed his forehead looked dark," Song Bunan asked suddenly enlightened. But Brother showed no reaction and coldly informed him that the restrictions here had been lifted. However, those spirits could not be taken away due to their unique causes of death. Song Bunan needed to figure out a way to open a passage for them outside the hospital.
After mulling over this seemingly demanding request in his mind, Song Bunan caught onto something amiss and curiously asked why the Ghost Messenger could still enter if the restrictions were gone. Brother revealed without emotion that there were other restrictions in place here, specially crafted by the Ghost Messenger guarding this location.
That made sense; those few who had distanced themselves from the Ghost Messenger were well aware of their former colleagues' weaknesses and would create obstacles that were hard to break through. But what could he do about it? Song Bunan shrugged helplessly and said this was going to cost extra.
Just then, a second Ghost Messenger appeared out of nowhere and kicked him sharply in the knee, causing him to bow down in submission. The one who felt wronged immediately lay down and began to whine that he wouldn’t get up without at least eighty thousand.
When Xin Yi stepped out of the bathroom, he saw Song Bunan lying on the bed with his eyes closed, throwing a tantrum while mumbling incoherently about not getting ten or eighty thousand and threatening to sue them. Was this little schemer conducting business even in his dreams? Curious, Xin Yi approached to listen more closely.
"Taking advantage of me; I’ll extort you… I don’t even have underwear left…" Suddenly sitting up startled Xin Yi so much that he jumped back, staring blankly at Song Bunan as he woke up and sat dazed on the edge of the bed. When Xin Yi asked what was wrong, only then did Song Bunan react. His eyes widened as he fumbled around himself dramatically, exclaiming that he had been taken advantage of without getting any money in return—what a huge loss!
What kind of business allows one to be taken advantage of and still extort money? A bad feeling crept into Xin Yi's mind. Although he believed Song Bunan’s claim about never having dated anyone before, it was hard for him to accept that someone could go through life without doing anything substantial. Being taken advantage of is painful for anyone regardless of gender; however, using it as an excuse for extortion seemed problematic.
He leaned closer and grabbed Song Bunan's flailing hand with an intense gaze, asking why he felt taken advantage of. The man wore an expression full of sorrow and indignation as he gritted his teeth and explained how someone had sneakily kicked him in the knee, causing him to lose balance and bow down.
"You should have demanded ten or eighty thousand from him!" This answer was completely off from what Xin Yi had imagined. Now it was his turn to be stunned; looking at Song Bunan's expression left him unsure how to respond or comfort him. He had never bowed down to anyone before; usually, it was when he defeated someone that they begged for mercy. He hadn’t considered anything related to extorting money after bowing down.
"Bow down to someone else and expect them to pay you?" he asked sincerely as Song Bunan wriggled free from his grip, anger flushing his face red.
"Exactly!" Song Bunan said, placing his hands on his hips. "When you bow to your elders, you have to give them red envelopes! Even though I call him Brother, he's much older than me! I can't just not give him money!"
Thinking of Song Bunan happily counting his money after finishing his tasks, Xin Yi began to understand a bit more. Sitting beside Song Bunan, he remarked, "You really like money." This wasn't a question; it was a genuine observation.
Upon hearing this, Song Bunan proudly lifted his head and said with great enthusiasm, "Who doesn't like money? I work hard to earn it, to make as much as I can! Aren't you doing your tasks for the money too?"
The seriousness in that last question caught Xin Yi off guard. His innocent gaze left him unsure of how to respond. After pondering for a while, he admitted that he didn't know. This answer left Song Bunan at a loss for words; he opened his mouth several times to speak but kept closing it again without having thought of what to say.
"How can you not know?" He finally found the right way to ask. In Song Bunan's understanding, working meant earning money—effort equated to reward. If one was doing work without compensation, it depended on how good their relationship with the other party was. He had once learned about Mighty Falcon's payment system: once a task was completed, payment was made immediately, and the amount depended on the task's difficulty.
Given Xin Yi's length of service at Mighty Falcon, his salary should be above average.
However, faced with Song Bunan's confusion, Xin Yi began to reflect on what he was truly working for. From the moment he joined Mighty Falcon, he had only felt that he had found a place where he could settle down. The intertwining of training and life had caused him never to consider what rest meant.
For him, life seemed like an endless series of tasks; after some effort and a brief rest, he would dive into the next one. Spending money was merely about buying a small house to live in and acquiring some daily necessities under the guidance of his boss and captain. He had no hobbies; even smoking involved buying in bulk to keep at home for convenience. Occasionally, if he came across something he liked while out, he'd buy it and toss it aside at home.
Once, a friend who had gotten close to him tried to figure out his financial situation. With only one card in hand, he confidently handed it over for inspection. When the friend returned and remarked that he seemed to have more than he appeared to, Xin Yi simply shrugged.
"I do tasks; it's just life," he summarized for Song Bunan, expecting his candidness would be understood. Little did he know that this admission transformed his image in Song Bunan's eyes from a cool tough guy into a pitiful figure being exploited.
What kind of good person would speak so casually about the grim reality of separating work from life? It was as if he had spent half his life being called upon to work and brainwashed into believing that all that mattered was contributing to his job—without any time for personal enjoyment or solitude.
Feeling a pang of sympathy, Song Bunan placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder and earnestly promised him that he would show him what true "living" meant.
"Once this matter is settled here, I'll take you out for some fun," he said. In his mind, Song Bunan had already positioned himself as a mature and rational figure trying to guide a child away from becoming too consumed by work—his suddenly awakened elder emotions transforming even someone who sat taller than him into a child needing care and affection.
The man who felt diminished by this did not grasp the underlying sentiment; instead, he thought it was an invitation for them to go out together sometime soon. He knew he wasn't romantic but understood how to meet his partner's expectations.
He responded positively to Song Bunan's concern and received an embrace in return. Song Bunan's slender arms wrapped around his neck like two small sticks, resting his chin on Xin Yi's shoulder where he could feel the sharpness of bones. This kind of intimate contact without fulfilling physical needs wasn't something Xin Yi excelled at; nevertheless, he gently returned the embrace and heard the strong rhythm of Song Bunan's heartbeat.
"We're definitely going to have a great time," were the muffled words from Song Bunan before falling asleep—sounding as if he were speaking directly to Xin Yi or perhaps just mumbling in dreams.
Looking back, Xin Yi saw that the man had already drifted off while still clutching half a blanket.
【A few more have gone missing.】 The captain's message suddenly vibrated on his phone. Upon reading it, Xin Yi sighed in resignation; this was an anticipated incident. Everyone knew that such things would happen when they chose to temporarily leave Mighty Falcon; it was just uncertain which individuals would disappear.
The connection between those unseen higher-ups and the laboratories had become an established fact. The tasks that failed and the teammates who lost their lives due to these issues gradually turned into jokes, as their lives were ultimately taken by their own people.
【Any leads?】 He was not ready to give up.
【None. We couldn't make contact. After finding the registered contact point, there was no one there; they vanished without a trace.】
【Progress is slow on this end. We can confirm that the underground part of the building is related to the laboratories, and the so-called critical care area on the east side of the fourth floor is an observation area for experimental subjects. We haven't found a method for investigation yet.】
【Be careful.】
The communication ended there. Xin Yi put his phone away and lay back on the soft bed, watching the moonlight flicker on the ceiling through the gaps in the curtains. He was unsure of what feelings were stirring within him.
In Mighty Falcon, he considered himself lucky. Compared to those brothers who had died on missions, surviving until now felt like a stroke of absolute luck. This luck came from the protection of his brothers, their figures standing in front of him often appeared in his dreams.
Today, when Song Bunan asked him what he was doing missions for, it sparked a desire to trace back to the roots of his situation, trying to find out why things had come to this point amidst the monotony.
Missions were life; this mindset had once been criticized by their leader. After a few drinks, he had scolded Xin Yi mercilessly, but all those countless words could be condensed into one concern: that being too tense could harm his health.
Tense? Xin Yi himself had never felt any negative emotions due to missions. Instead, it was during times without missions that he could feel the silence at home, a solitude more profound than that of a graveyard.
Perhaps this was why Song Bunan wanted to take him out for some fun.
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