Translator: Larbre Studio Editor: Larbre Studio
Lou Cheng didn’t head straight for San Jose Street after leaving the Ginwale Bar. For Lin Que’s sake, he had been traveling nonstop without food or water, and his throat was parched and his stomach rumbled. Though it wasn’t enough to compromise his fighting abilities, it’s safe to say that he wasn’t in peak form. He had to prepare himself thoroughly, for his next target was mysterious and he didn’t know what dangers might lie ahead.
Gazing at the dusk sky, he created a piece of ice crystal and stuffed it in his mouth. Melting it with the heat from his tongue, he turned it into a refreshing treat.
“According to the map from the military, there should be a food market nearby. It should be open from six to eight...” mused Lou Cheng, his eyes scanning. He spotted no restaurants. In fact, along the entire street, there weren’t more than five shops still open.
Without turning back to look for Veigar, he consulted his memory, occasionally referring to the map, which brought him to rubble that seemed to be the aftermath of a bombardment.
The dim twilight overhead blurred the shadowy figures in the alleys.
More and more stall owners were making their way here from every direction, each occupying their pre-assigned spot. In fear of encountering unruly customers, they armed themselves from head to toe, guns locked and loaded.
Lou Cheng peered into the distance. Hardtack, small packs of flour, and canned food with Chinese labels were all he saw.
“Can I have two cans of beef?” An attractive girl with unruly hair dashed past Lou Cheng and stopped before a bearded stall owner. She couldn’t take her eyes off the metal container and stared like a hungry wolf that had finally spotted its prey. With Lou Cheng’s hearing ability, he could easily hear the sound of her swallowing her saliva.
The stall owner glanced at her, then gave a heh-heh laugh.
“As long as you have China or America money. Or gold. Or gun,” he said in disjointed English.
“I don’t have any of those...” the girl’s voice trailed away. Then, as though she had steeled her resolve, she said, “But I-I can sleep with you. For only two cans. Of beef...”
The stall owner studied her. “Fine. But you must wait. Until end.”
“Then, can I have one first?” the girl asked anxiously.
“Come,” the stall owner motioned to the seat beside him. “You be with me. Two days.”
“Okay!” Eyes twinkling, the girl skirted around the counter and took an open can of food from the man. Unable to be bothered with a fork and spoon, she knelt down, grabbed a piece of beef still glistening in oil, stuffed it in her mouth, and wolfed it down. The stall owner patted her chest and bum as though he was checking goods, then nodded contentedly.
The scene made Lou Cheng recall his cousins, Qi Yunfei, Chen Xiaoxiao, and Ma Xi. At an age similar to the girl before him, they were loitering around their campuses, busying themselves with schoolwork. The only things they had to worry about were whether they should go on a diet or not, do their homework or copy it, drink cow milk or soy milk for breakfast, or whether the person they liked liked them back.
Feeling emotional, Lou Cheng felt a lump form in his throat.
Looking away, he went to another stall.
“Ten cans, twenty hardtacks, and...”
The stall owner paused, then quietly took out a clunky black calculator. It took him awhile to get at the answer.
In China, he didn’t like these types of food, so he wasn’t sure of their usual prices, but he was certain that the inflation rate was at least five to ten times higher.
He took out his wallet and emptied the cash in it. He had to use a bit of the gold from the military to clear the bill.
Taking the food wrapped in old newspaper, he took a non-self-heatable can of beef. He was about to dig in when the stall owner gave him a tip out of goodwill.
“It’s tastier if you freeze it first. When the meat gravy congeals into jelly, gulp... There’s a freezer at the Ginwale Bar on Tutans Street . They have their own generator, which you can access for a cheap price...”
As he spoke, the stall owner couldn’t resist the temptation to pass his tongue over his lips.
Lou Cheng nodded slowly. In one hand, he held the rest of the food wrapped in the newspaper. White frost emanated from his other hand, rapidly freezing the can.
With a flick of the wrist, a piece of beef, along with meat gravy jelly, flew into his mouth.
Not half-bad, thought Lou Cheng, before he turned and walked away while chewing.
The moment the white frost encased the can, the stall owner was awestruck.
He had the means to obtain food, so he clearly wasn’t a commoner who knew nothing. The shop owner knew the significance of what he saw.
H-he’s a super powerful Mighty One!
Who would dare take money from such powerful people when they visit the market? They weren’t known for paying either!
This was an unspoken rule in Tignes.
After a while, he gazed at Lou Cheng’s silhouette, then at his stall, feeling lucky and relieved.
Lou Cheng sat down at a half-destroyed wall at the edge of the rubble. He wasted no time digging in.
When there were only two cans, five packs of hardtacks, and three bottles of water left, he wrapped them again and headed to the marketplace. Along the way, he saw a number of children staring at passersby with pleading eyes, hoping to get a small share of food.
Sighing inwardly, Lou Cheng tossed the remaining food to a couple of kids, turning a blind eye to their surprised faces and the commotion he aroused.
This was life in the war-torn zones.
...
San Jose Street 172.
Old bullet holes dotted the entrance. Most of the glass windows nearby had been damaged. Hands in pocket, Lou Cheng went up the mottled staircase a step at a time. He looked calm and relaxed, like an invited guest.
With his Ice Heart formed, he was able to sense everything in a ten-meter radius around him. For a Physical Invulnerability Mighty One, the mutation of their mind connecting Heaven and Earth increases the effective range of such abilities. However, for practitioners of the Enemy Heart Freezing Move, the effects of the ability are more distinct and the effective range is greater.
When he passed the fifth floor, he didn’t pause but kept going up. However, as he passed by, his mind lake had already reflected walls and the interior of the room:
A tattered sofa, a table with an array of empty cans on it, including ones that belonged in the trash and were growing mold...
No one’s here... Lou Cheng nodded thoughtfully. After making a turn on the sixth floor, he returned to the first floor. He crossed the street, then lurked in the dark as he watched the entrance.
It was already night. The street without street lamps was pitch-black, apart from the mild candle light from the apartments on both sides.
In China, on a street like this, there would at least be two BBQ stalls, one lou mei stall, one fried rice stall, and one 24-hour supermarket.The area by the road would be choked with tables. Food aroma would permeate the air, bottles of beer lined up... Heh, not like you’ll see any of those these days, with all the recycling efforts pushing for a cleaner and greener world. The only one that might survive that crusade is the supermarket... Leaning against the wall with hands in his pocket, Lou Cheng’s thoughts were provoked by the desolation around him.
Beneath the same sky, people led two starkly different ways of life.
After a while, his eyes latched onto the mysterious expert from the video returning to his apartment. He had a black windcoat on, his face impassive, and his aquamarine eyes resembled that of a beast.
Lou Cheng watched as his target entered unit No. 172, but didn’t follow him immediately. Instead, he waited for a while, then decided it was time to follow him up.
At that moment, the mysterious expert came down again and headed for the other end of the street.
With his Ice Heart crystal clear, Lou Cheng’s senses spread out. From a couple of meters away, he tailed his target, also activating a Cultivation secret art.
He turned left, walked straight, then turned right. The mysterious blonde, blue-eyed expert behaved normally, as though he was oblivious to being tailed.
Ten minutes later, he arrived at a ruin at the outskirts of town. One could roughly tell that it was the remains of a factory, with collapsed structures and steel beams scattered around.
Suddenly, the mysterious expert whirled around like a tornado, his icy gaze locking onto Lou Cheng.
He realized? Indeed, something’s amiss, thought Lou Cheng calmly.
Swish! Swish! Two men hopped down from the second floor of the factory ruin. One was short with swarthy skin with black hair. The other had pale-yellow facial hair and a single eye shining light-blue.
One blended nimbly into the night while the other was heavily muscled. Though their appearances differed, they had the same air as the mysterious expert with blond hair and blue eyes.
Lifeless, ungainly, and creepy!
“Damn, pesty stalker,” said the mysterious expert evenly when he saw Lou Cheng’s escape path blocked off by his associates.
He turned to his associates, still speaking in a flat tone.
“Tignes Public Security Police’s response time, thirty minutes. City armed forces, fifteen minutes. Other experts nearby, five minutes.”
“No. 4, No. 6, finish him off within five minutes.”
No. 4, No. 6? Lou Cheng frowned. His right hand came out of his pocket, gripping the last coin he had between fingers.
Ding!
He flicked the coin high up into the air.