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墨書 Inktalez
With a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he shook his head gently, as if looking at a naive child, and said in a relaxed tone,
"You’re already in your thirties, almost forty. You can’t possibly not understand this simple truth, can you?"
His tone held no malice, yet it carried an irritating sense of superiority, as if mocking Carter’s innocence and immaturity.
Carter's brow furrowed even deeper, his fists clenched tightly, the veins on his arms slightly bulging. However, he did not interrupt the other man; he simply stared intently at the secretary, waiting for an explanation.
"This world has never been black and white, Carter." The secretary spread his hands, his tone laced with a sense of resigned inevitability. "You want to help those Veterans? You want to assist the underprivileged? Of course, that’s possible. No one is stopping you; in fact, we can even help you."
Carter's heart skipped a beat, but before he could respond, the secretary shifted his tone to one that was cooler and more persuasive.
"But have you ever considered how power and money in society are distributed? How will you allocate them?"
His voice was calm yet felt like a cold scalpel, slowly dissecting the harsh truths of society.
"Do you naively believe that you can rely on some notion of 'justice' to reshuffle everything so that it’s perfectly balanced and everyone has a fair chance?"
"Stop joking around, Carter."
"In this world, all resources are never 'evenly distributed.' They are controlled by those who understand the rules of the game best."
"If you want your Veteran brothers to live well and help the underprivileged rise up, it’s certainly not impossible... but you must understand that the distribution of power in this world is no child's play. It is built upon layers of relationships, money, and influence."
"So what will you do?"
The secretary paused slightly, lowering his voice with a hint of deep temptation.
"Of course, through negotiation and communication from all sides."
"Whether it’s black, white, or gray..."
"You must learn to coexist with them, learn to negotiate with them, and learn how to get what you want in this game."
"Do you understand now, Carter?"
His tone held no trace of anger, nor any emotional fluctuation; he was merely stating a fact—one that was cruel, dirty, yet undeniably true.
Carter's breath was heavy as he stood there, his body stiff like a statue.
He knew that every word the Male Secretary had just spoken hit the nail on the head.
But—
Could he really accept this "reality"?
Carter was about to voice another question when the sudden glare of headlights interrupted him.
A black sedan glided silently to the roadside, and the driver quickly opened the door, urging in a low voice, "Hurry up and get Rain in the car."
The secretary skillfully took the drunken Rain from Carter's hands, moving with the fluidity of someone performing a routine task.
Rain leaned limply against the secretary's shoulder, mumbling incoherently, his steps unsteady like a puppet that had lost its consciousness, being forcibly shoved into the back seat.
Carter stood aside, wanting to say something more, wanting to ask further questions. But before he could utter a word, the secretary was already preparing to get in the car. He paused for a moment, turned back, and flashed Carter a sneer that was both contemptuous and slightly mocking.
"Your performance today was quite disappointing..."
He shook his head slightly, his tone sounding like a reprimand yet casual as if making small talk. "You should really learn some expression management."
The secretary's gaze lingered on Carter's face for a second, as if carefully observing his reaction. Then his lips curled into a slight smirk, and his tone became even lighter, but his words carried an unsettling sense of reality—
"Rain is showing you a lot of care right now, which is a good thing, Carter. Stop always thinking about saving others; first, save yourself."
Carter felt as if his throat was constricted. He understood what the secretary was saying; he knew the rules of this world, yet he could not accept how her words whispered into his mind.
This meant he was not here to change the world but to become a part of it.
This meant he was not here to save others but to ensure that he became a winner.
Seeing that Carter did not respond, the secretary chuckled lightly and nimbly slipped into the car, shutting the door behind her.
"Click."
The soft sound of the car door closing felt like some invisible gate slowly shutting on Carter, isolating him from that "real world."
The engine purred softly as the car gradually pulled away, its headlights casting a cold, indifferent beam into the night before finally disappearing at the end of the street.
Carter stood still, the wind brushing against his cheek. The night was chilly, but his heart felt unusually heavy.
The secretary's words echoed in his mind like a snake lurking in the shadows, tightening around his consciousness and making it hard for him to breathe.
"Stop always thinking about saving others; first, save yourself..."
Carter lowered his head, looking at his slightly trembling hands.
He began to doubt whether he had already reached a point of no return.
The streets at night were wide and silent, with the city's neon lights flickering. However, in areas far from the city center, only the dim yellow streetlights stood lonely, casting long shadows.
Carter rode his motorcycle, speeding through the night, the fierce wind whipping against his face as if trying to blow away the anger brewing inside him.
Yet that resentment did not dissipate with the increasing speed.
It remained tightly coiled in his heart, like an inescapable black mist, making his breath heavy and his fists clench tighter, his knuckles turning white and aching faintly.
Rain's downfall, the secretary's cold laughter, the dirty deals in the private room... all these images flashed repeatedly in his mind like an endless nightmare, eroding him from within.
He gritted his teeth, slightly twisting the throttle with his right hand. The motorcycle's engine let out a deep roar, like an enraged beast.
But just then—
A horn blared from behind, accompanied by several piercing engine roars.
Carter's gaze sharpened as he quickly glanced in the rearview mirror. He saw a group of motorcycles with lights flickering in the darkness, several modified heavy bikes speeding toward him, their headlights blinding and taillights flashing like a pack of wolves chasing prey under the night sky.
Street Racers.
They had arrived.
Carter's heartbeat quickened slightly; his fingers instinctively tightened around the throttle, but his gaze remained calm as he warily watched the approaching convoy.
Were they simply here to race, or were they after him?
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