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墨書 Inktalez
Roundabout, the Quick Hotel.
A window was half-covered by curtains, casting a dim orange glow that flickered incessantly. On the white wall, two shadows intertwined, elongated and stretched by the candlelight, morphing into various shapes.
The hotel had mediocre soundproofing, and next door, the Pockmarked Girl tossed and turned in her bed. She buried herself under the covers and pressed her face into the pillow, but nothing could muffle the increasingly loud and continuous sounds of pleasure coming from the wall opposite her. Rolling her eyes, she pounded on the wall and shouted, "Can you keep it down?" The Xin Mengfan next door responded with breathy gasps, intermittently calling out, "Guli, come here."
"Go to hell," the Pockmarked Girl shot back. The Zombie Virus and Infected Virus had joined in on the chaos; what was a mere Acid Rain compared to all this?
Jiao Ziqian had nearly recovered. Staying in bed for too long wasn't ideal, and with the trivial matters piling up at Roundabout, he didn't want to be a burden. So he stubbornly tagged along with Song Jiu. Fighting and killing could wait; driving was something he could still manage. Song Jiu didn't refuse; he was tired of Old Lin's incessant chatter, so having these two talkative individuals together would give him some peace.
The only hiccup came from Xiao Wei. This tough guy, who had narrowly escaped death at the hands of Acid Rain, had just Awakened not long ago. Upon hearing about Ming Junwei and Wu Wentao's alliance, he was furious and refused to reconcile with Wu Wentao. Ming Junwei and Song Yao took turns trying to persuade him, but it was futile; blood feuds were easy to form but hard to dissolve. Xiao Wei held no intention of forgiving the man who had killed countless comrades of his, even when Ming Junwei explained the complexities involved. Left with no choice, Ming Junwei had to bring the two together; some things couldn't be resolved through words alone and would have to be settled through actions.
Initially worried that impulsive Xiao Wei might cause trouble at such a critical moment, Ming Junwei and the others underestimated this former soldier. The expected confrontation between enemies did not occur; instead, a wounded soldier and a defector spent an entire afternoon talking without any signs of violence. No one knew what transpired behind closed doors during their conversation. Lin Daozhang jokingly asked if they might reconcile over a drink, only to earn half of Roundabout's disdainful glares as he awkwardly retreated behind Song Jiu.
Everything was basically settled now; tasks requiring time couldn't be rushed. What needed to be done was in place; what wasn't could only come gradually. Although time was tight, safety was clearly more important.
Before leaving, Song Yao repeatedly cautioned Song Jiu not to act impulsively. After all, they were in a remote area unlike Roundabout where help could arrive quickly; if something went wrong, distant water wouldn't quench immediate thirst. Song Jiu listened attentively without showing any impatience; he could feel Song Yao's concern and worry—threads of familial love that melted away certain emotions without him realizing it.
Song Jiu grinned foolishly, reflecting on how just last night he had discussed his plans with Dream Fan. He hadn't expected that after one night he would change his mind. Dream Fan and Luo Yu embraced him one by one. Since following Song Jiu, they had never left his side; although they had confidence in Brother Jiu, it was impossible not to worry at all.
"Fake Taoist, if Brother Jiu loses a hair, you won't need to come back," Dream Fan pouted at Fake Taoist with an air of authority. The latter took it upon himself grandly as if saving humanity depended on him.
"You may not be here, but I will be," Dream Fan retorted with a smirk before tiptoeing up to give Song Jiu a soft kiss. Sneaking a glance around, she pulled out a hefty handgun from her pocket and handed it to Song Jiu in a low voice: "Just in case—hide it well."
"Ha!" Song Jiu chuckled in disbelief, the weighty gun in his hands bearing a steel stamp, unlike the ones from Roundabout. He asked in surprise, "Where did you get this?"
"I found it," Dream Fan replied with a sweet smile, winking as she left the farewell group.
In the Boiler Room's renovated venue, a burly man with a red beard was rummaging around, muttering incomprehensible words as sweat poured down his face.
Volume Two: Urban Forest End.
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