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墨書 Inktalez
When Xiao Mei received a message from Song Bunan, he was in the middle of changing out of his bloodstained clothes. He and Shui Su had just dealt with some experimental subjects that had found their way into the Jiang Family Courtyard. Although he felt sorry for the souls that had been replaced, destroying those bodies was the only way to ensure the safety of others.
Halfway through changing, he saw a crying cat emoji sent by a glasses-wearing hamster on his phone. Without a doubt, it was related to Xin Yi. Shui Su, standing beside him, curiously leaned over to see the message. After reading it, he couldn't help but laugh out loud. When Xiao Mei shot him a questioning look, Shui Su read aloud the content of the emoji.
“Xiao Mei, why did Xin Yi fall silent after I finished explaining my views on the life and death of team members? He didn’t say a word during dinner, wore a serious expression, and kept glancing at his phone in a strange way. Is there something wrong with my perspective, or does he just not understand why?”
This made Xiao Mei roll his eyes. Ignoring his dirty hands, he grabbed his phone and began to voice reply. Seventy percent of his response was a complaint about Song Bunan’s bizarre views, peppered with some unbroadcastable expletives.
He vividly remembered that night years ago when he and Song Bunan had an intense discussion about this very topic. The next day, he returned home with a sore throat from all the talking. Unfortunately, Song Bunan didn’t care about others' opinions and continued to stick to his beliefs without change.
He told Song Bunan that Xin Yi had spent half his life in Mighty Falcon living with teammates; friendships among teammates occupied most of his life. Suddenly confessing negative views about “the bond between team members” would be upsetting for anyone.
“If you’re going to be this foolish, you might as well not date at all. I’m afraid you’ll end up getting smashed into a wall by that big guy tomorrow! And stop messaging me! I don’t want to hear about your relationship!”
Shui Su understood Xiao Mei’s frustration. After all, first love could make anyone’s mind go haywire, especially someone like Song Bunan. Ever since they parted ways to pursue their own tasks, Song Bunan had been reporting his romantic situation to Xiao Mei every day, driving him nearly insane.
“Bunan is only a year older than us,” Xiao Mei tossed aside his phone and sighed at the sudden wave of exhaustion that hit him. Shui Su nodded in agreement; there was no argument against that statement.
“That’s part of his character too; after all, emotions are quite special for him.”
Their strange silence lingered until bedtime without resolution. Xin Yi’s back seemed almost pierced by Song Bunan’s gaze, but since the latter remained silent, he didn’t know what to say either and kept quiet.
Xiao Mei’s words sparked some thoughts for Shui Su. Throughout his decades of life, teammates had never become primary emotional figures for him. He recalled reading Xin Yi's profile—growing up in an orphanage and then living and working within Mighty Falcon without many other relationships.
[You must have noticed that beneath Xin Yi's exterior, his feelings towards many things differ from ours. It’s normal for us to have strong familial and friendly bonds while neglecting other social relationships because discomfort in interactions with others can be compensated for by our family and friends. But it’s different for him; from the moment he began to feel emotions, it was through teammates—only team camaraderie could fill the void left by discomfort in other relationships. To him, the bond between teammates is equivalent to our familial love and friendship. Your perspective negates his understanding of this bond; it’s something difficult for him to comprehend, so silence is natural. Let him think it over first; we can talk more tomorrow.]
The vibration of his phone beside the pillow interrupted Song Bunan's contemplation. Upon seeing a message from Shui Su, he sighed involuntarily. He understood these things well—perhaps too well—but why did Xin Yi fall into an inexplicable silence during their discussion?
The bond between teammates that he didn’t value was central to Xin Yi's emotional relationships. This might be the first disagreement they faced after getting together.
The person beside him had already fallen into a steady rhythm of breathing; they must have fallen asleep. He didn’t continue staring at them but sighed again before turning off his phone and quietly getting out of bed to head to the study.
The study was covered with thick cashmere carpets; walking barefoot on them felt warm rather than cold. He found the file he had brought home after that incident years ago tucked away in a shelf—the seal on it had already been broken.
He would never forget how haggard his brother looked sitting by the hospital bed; being betrayed by those above made him unwilling to engage in anything that required following orders again. Once bitten by a snake, ten years feared a rope. He had meticulously reviewed every person he encountered during that time but found no signs in memory suggesting any of them would betray him.
Everything happened so abruptly. The bullet pierced through the body, shattering the illusion of camaraderie that should have formed after assembling a team.
Perhaps it was because everyone else was either dead or living a life worse than death that his file contained information on twelve individuals. His own photo bore a green stamp indicating survival, while the one marked as a vegetative state was yellow, and the rest were red. He found the details of the person who had come into the shop today and read them carefully.
If he could survive, he would still be under thirty. He remembered that this person was a cheerful young boy, full of humor and wit, able to keenly sense when someone nearby was feeling off and would help to mediate. He remembered how he would remember everyone’s birthdays, sending them greetings and small gifts on their special days.
During their three months of training together, he had even brought him meals and occasionally slipped him candies, saying it was truly wonderful to be selected at such a young age for university.
At that time, he genuinely enjoyed being with them.
“Multi-City Alliance Annihilation Stealth Team member, report your code name.”
The dagger had been specially customized for them; Song Bunan had lost his during a mission. So when the other party pulled out that weapon, he felt as if he had returned to that building surrounded by modified humans and corpses strewn across the floor.
But the other person did not respond; they merely stared at him with vacant eyes. When he pressed for an answer, the hand wielding the knife struck down, severing the long blade embedded in the wooden board.
“Answer me, what is your code name?” He didn’t want to give threats too much time but also didn’t want to give up on this long-lost “familiar” who had reappeared before him. If there was no answer, he would assume that this knife was merely being repurposed.
Song Bunan abandoned retrieving the broken blade and engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the other person. The rusted dagger repeatedly sliced through the air in front of him, accompanied by combat movements that felt all too familiar. He could now be certain that this person was indeed someone from his past team.
But why? How could someone who had died in that building appear in this form?
Taking advantage of a moment when the other person dodged, Song Bunan tore off the obstructive mask and saw the face hidden beneath the brim of a hat.
“Song Bunan, what an interesting name.” This was their first conversation upon meeting. The boy’s eyes sparkled with excitement upon hearing his introduction as he candidly shared his thoughts. “Your family must not want you to struggle, so they named you Bunan, which means you won’t have difficulties. That’s great! I’m Qian Cai, like colorful colors!”
The boy was taller than him, and when he smiled, two sharp canine teeth peeked out from his lips. His eyes were light brown, becoming even lighter and closer to gold under sunlight. Their muscle mass was similar according to tests, but due to height differences, Song Bunan appeared slightly broader.
“From your face, you wouldn’t think you’re older; you look round and chubby like a child.” The friendly boy naturally draped an arm over his shoulder, asking for directions to the cafeteria. “I didn’t get any food; I rushed over right after training and I’m about to starve!”
Then in that building, Qian Cai was caught by a bodyguard and fell from the seventh-floor stairwell while Song Bunan picked up a gun from beside him.
Could laboratories now be advanced enough to attach new souls to dead bodies and bring them back to life? He couldn’t comprehend it.
The dagger grazed against his neck as Song Bunan kicked away the other person’s body and switched positions using the table as leverage. He grasped an arm nearly as thick as his own from behind and forcefully disarmed him, driving the dagger into his chest.
There wasn’t even any blood; the dagger lodged itself in bone without affecting the other’s resistance. He kicked at their knee to relieve pressure and took advantage of their lowered height to decisively snap their fragile neck.
The cold skin made contact with his palm, and the heavy scent of death seeped into his heart through his pores. Song Bunan pressed against the wall, holding the corpse to prevent it from collapsing to the ground.
It was the incense in the shop that masked the stench of decay, allowing him to delay recognizing that this was no longer a member of their team from years past.
Not even a trace of the original soul remained.
Burning such a body was difficult; the pit could not reach the temperature needed to reduce it to ashes. He could only use techniques learned from Shui Su, employing a small device from the Ghost Messenger to summon ghostly flames for disposal.
As the green flames rose, he looked around, wishing to see Qian Cai's soul appear. But all that answered him was the wind, blowing in from the wilderness, carrying away clouds of ash.
"This task is over; I must go home for a bit. Calculating the time, I’m going to be an uncle soon!" While gearing up, Song Bunan heard Qian Cai say this from behind him.
However, after that day, their deaths were merely described as a skirmish with their target, and not even their names were released. If it weren't for his luck in surviving, he would have likely become just another casualty in that conflict.
A drop of water fell onto the documents, startling him from his memories as he touched his face and unexpectedly felt moisture.
"You said you didn't care about your teammates' lives."
"I didn't care; I was just... perhaps feeling sad about parting," he replied, meeting Xin Yi's gaze outside the door, wiping away the tears that continued to fall, confused about why he was crying.
"The one I burned was one twelfth."
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