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墨書 Inktalez
The news of the shop's closure spread quickly through the community, and many came to inquire about what had happened. Some were relieved to have one less competitor for jobs, while others hoped to take advantage of the situation to find new business opportunities for themselves. However, when they gathered in front of Bunan's little shop, they found it completely empty, with only the remnants of broken tables and chairs left behind.
Xin Yi, who had come to help carry things, was surprised by how quickly Song Bunan had made his decision.
In the darkness, he couldn't catch a glimpse of Song Bunan's figure. Just as he peeked out the back door, the other appeared before him, his face smeared with paper dust, looking dirty as he blinked at him. The pond nearby was completely shrouded in darkness, and the air was filled with a faint smell of burnt paper products.
"Brother Xinyi, help me pack up my things," Dirty Cat said as he pulled out several large woven bags from behind the counter. He mentioned that he planned to close the shop for good without explaining why; he simply sent out a statement on his phone.
Xin Yi asked why it was so sudden. The person wiping his face with paper chuckled and said he had new plans for the future and no longer needed to keep the shop open. When pressed for details about his plans, he remained tight-lipped.
Packing up the shop went faster than expected; Song Bunan had clearly planned long ago what needed to be taken. He filled a large sack with treasures from the shelves and only selected a few rare seasonings from the kitchen, leaving the rest behind.
Once they loaded everything into the car, Song Bunan cut off all the power supplies and picked up a stone to smash the lantern hanging at the door. The shards fell to the ground, and Xin Yi momentarily thought he saw something green fluttering upward before it quickly vanished into the darkness. The glimmer was small and light, like a firefly.
"What do you plan to do next?" Xin Yi asked again on their drive home. Dirty Cat was diligently wiping his ears with a wet tissue when he heard this and replied without turning his head, "I’ll take a break first—plan to stay home for a few days and sort out this lab mess. I’m not worried about income; my work over these years has been quite profitable."
When it came to making money, Song Bunan lifted his head proudly, his grayish face full of satisfaction. Xin Yi couldn’t help but smile at his expression and reached over to brush off some ash from behind his ear, saying that he already knew this.
"No, you don’t know," Song Bunan said playfully as he pulled out his phone and fiddled with it for a moment before showing Xin Yi a screen filled with numbers. "This is what I’ve saved up from running the shop over the years; there’s still plenty of cash stacked at home. Once we get back, I’ll tell you where it all is so you can take what you need."
Such generosity didn’t seem like something a money-minded person would do. Xin Yi turned to him at a red light and asked how he could be so trusting; what if someone ran off with it all?
Song Bunan shrugged nonchalantly and said that first of all, he believed in Xin Yi’s character. Secondly, if one day he were indeed robbed, he would just go home and cry to his parents and brother about it; there was a chance he could get back an equivalent amount of money—or even more.
This was an area Xin Yi had never ventured into before, but he accepted this explanation.
"By the way, Brother Xinyi, how are things going over at Mighty Falcon? Still operating independently?" Dirty Cat asked as he began munching on a cucumber in the passenger seat.
After hearing about recent developments, Song Bunan shook his head in disbelief and pulled out a carrot from one of the bags, crunching away as he mumbled that perhaps they should just disband altogether and start their own ventures.
"Having problems at the top is far more troublesome than having a teammate who's a spy. If the root is rotten, everything falls apart; it’s better not to have it at all. You all still have your skills and reputations intact; you could go out and make a living on your own without worrying like this."
Xin Yi shook his head slightly, marveling at the idealism of this person. He joked that he should be careful not to let his captain hear this, or she would definitely explode and try to kill him. But the other person didn’t care; after saying that, he shifted into a more comfortable position, holding a carrot and shaking his head, indicating that they were simply too trusting of those above them. When they finally realized there were issues with the higher-ups, they would have plenty of suffering ahead.
He cast a puzzled glance at Song Bunan, wondering why it seemed like he had personally suffered from the upper management.
To his surprise, the person who was focused on eating replied casually, recounting a story that was both familiar and strange.
"That year I was in my third year of college, and I still ranked third in my cohort during the first assessment of the semester. One day before class, the teacher called me to the principal's office and said someone was looking for me. I was invited to participate in a training camp called Multi-City Joint Training, which included students selected from various cities who were all ranked in the Top 3 for their age group. Before going, I genuinely thought it was just a training session, but on the plane to that city, I signed a confidentiality agreement and had all my contact with the outside world taken away.
Our team consisted of twelve members, and after three months of living and training together, we faced our first—and last—mission: to capture a scientist.
This scientist was protected by numerous Abnormal Human Bodyguards in a standalone building. He refused all offers from the higher-ups to abandon his research position and expressed his displeasure at our sudden arrival, turning that building into a prison.
Throughout our ordeal, our so-called superiors did not respond to our calls for help. We initially thought the scientist had jammed our signals. However, when seven out of twelve of us had died, they finally responded with a message stating that the building would be destroyed in ten minutes and instructed us to ensure that both the non-human bodyguards and the scientist were trapped inside to guarantee they wouldn’t survive.
At that time, I and the remaining survivors had retreated to the entrance while only one-fifth of the opposing force had perished." Xin Yi looked at Song Bunan's expression, which was cold and detached as if he were recounting someone else's story. His eyes showed no excess emotion, which was quite concerning.
"The team still believed there would be reinforcements. In the last two minutes, it was just me and one teammate who had been shot in the spine. I carried him and forced my way through the door to retreat, not intending to follow orders to stay inside because all our means of communication had been cut off unilaterally by command.
When the explosion occurred, I managed to retreat with him to a place that provided effective cover. After everything settled down, I tried contacting them again but was met with ringing in my ears before hearing from the commander. He opened fire on me and my teammate whose fate was unknown.
That bullet hit my left chest; fortunately, I received timely medical attention and survived. The teammate I rescued has remained in a vegetative state ever since. Out of twelve people, only two survived, four went missing, and six were confirmed dead. Before we set out, they provided us with equipment that lacked even basic firepower; I had two handguns—one of which I had secretly taken from the gear bag before getting off.
From waking up until returning to school during that time, I completely lost the body I had trained so hard for; now I'm left with only explosive power but no endurance. I can't even understand why I was selected for that team back then or why I was betrayed by those above me. You’ve seen my file; it probably just states that I participated in Multi-City Joint Training and graduated first—something that cost those other eleven their lives.
The issues with Mighty Falcon must be related to those at the top; rather than believing they will find an insider and deal with it, it's better to believe they are indeed the insiders."
As the last bite of the carrot was consumed, Song Bunan finished his story. Xin Yi turned to look at him, who was still focused on rummaging through the bag for food. A complex mix of emotions swirled within him, leaving a heavy feeling in his chest that wouldn’t dissipate. He recalled the eye tattoo on Song Bunan’s left chest, a strange design that seemed to have been deliberately inked to cover a bullet hole.
“It must be hard for you,” Xin Yi said, stopping him as he reached for another carrot, using the light reflected off the wall to examine Song Bunan’s face. Having shared similar experiences was a torment; just listening to him recount the past brought back vivid memories of his teammates' final moments during that mission.
However, unlike Xin Yi’s sorrow, there was no trace of sadness in Song Bunan’s eyes. His indifference felt unsettling. Upon hearing the question, he looked puzzled and turned to meet Xin Yi’s gaze, cautiously asking in an uncertain voice, “Hard?”
“Your teammates all died; don’t you feel sad for them?” This time, it was Xin Yi who felt uncertain.
“Nope,” Song Bunan replied as he wiped his hands with a tissue, shaking his head with a smile. “I don’t think a temporary team can give me friendship. We interacted because of the mission, and when that mission ended, so did our relationship. Besides, I survived because I disobeyed orders; it had nothing to do with that team.”
“Then why did you save that person?” Xin Yi couldn’t believe he could be so devoid of empathy; it shattered all his previous perceptions of him. He had been so friendly to everyone lately—how could he say such things after having faced death? Relentlessly, he pressed on, only to see Song Bunan looking innocent as he replied:
“He begged me to save him! Otherwise, I would have left long ago. Who would want to die in some ridiculous task in a strange place? I value my life too much for that.”
In Xin Yi’s eyes, Song Bunan became shrouded in a haze.
This sudden sense of ambiguity seemed like a necessary step in their journey toward familiarity. After all, compared to his own straightforward life and obvious temperament and preferences, Song Bunan’s inner world—shaped by different life experiences—was far more complex. Beneath his sunny and lively exterior lay a hardened heart.
Is this normal? Xin Yi felt lost for a moment, sitting there trying to digest what Song Bunan had said. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Song Bunan watching him with that familiar cute expression mixed with confusion over his strange behavior, tilting his head slightly as he observed his reaction.
Locking the car, Xin Yi suggested, “Let’s head home.”
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