Morning.
Goethe Hotel guest room corridor.
March 7th, still in her pajamas, opened her door early.
She went next door and knocked on Zeig's door.
Knock knock knock—!!
Creak—
Soon, a certain someone opened the door.
He was wearing a full dinosaur onesie pajama set. From the dragon's mouth, dark golden eyes silently stared at the woman in front of him, clearly annoyed:
"What the hell, getting up so early—are you trying to die?!"
March 7th pursed her lips, then slowly stepped aside, revealing the door of the room directly opposite.
That door was open. Inside was very dark—no lights on.
"Dan Heng didn't come back last night either."
"…"
Still in his dinosaur pajamas, a certain someone silently stepped into the opposite room. The tail swayed back and forth behind him.
With a click, Zeig turned on the light in Dan Heng's room.
The dim space instantly became bright.
It wasn't much different from theirs—the only distinction was that the bed was impeccably neat.
Dan Heng was the type to smooth out the sheets and fold the blankets after getting up.
"Sigh."
A certain someone plopped down on Dan Heng's bed, creating a crease.
"Why does he have to stir up this muddy water? It'll only ruin his own mood."
March 7th pursed her lips:
"That's because he actually has a conscience."
A certain someone raised an eyebrow slightly:
"A conscience isn't used like that. Guess why Bronya and Pela still haven't come looking for us two even now?"
"The enemy is already obvious—they're all residents from Belobog's Underworld!"
A certain someone grabbed his own tail, rubbing it while talking casually:
"Bronya and the others are our friends, sure. But the people down below are also pitiful souls. We're outsiders after all—getting involved in this really isn't appropriate."
"Besides, Bronya and the others are definitely going to win. How many rebels are there? How many Silvermane Guards still exist?"
"The reason things look so ugly right now is because after those Silvermane Guards realized exactly who the enemy is, they all started hesitating."
March 7th nodded and sat on the edge of the bed:
"Yeah, I remember… before, there were Silvermane Guards who let the graffiti people go."
"…Those were probably Underworld folks. A lot of them were vagrants. Some from Wildfire joined too, and there were even ordinary people who'd lost their families."
A certain someone leaned against the headboard, pulled out his phone, found Dan Heng's contact, and started typing while saying:
"Our Astral Express crew just needs to seal Stellaron, save the planet, that sort of thing. This civil unrest… both sides have their reasons. Let's just get Dan Heng back to rest and stop meddling."
Right as a certain someone was typing, a familiar figure appeared at the doorway.
He slowly stepped inside. His cyan clothes still had some bloodstains on them.
"…"
A certain someone glanced at Dan Heng in the doorway, then set his phone down.
"…"
"Friend, you need a vacation."
"Mm."
Under March 7th's surprised gaze, Dan Heng quietly agreed. His eyes remained as calm and still as an ancient well.
Even Dan Heng agreed to leave.
…
Noon.
Underworld.
This was a mine near Rivet Town.
Inside was dim and oppressive, yet packed with many people.
Their clothes were mostly ragged and old-looking. Every face wore a lifeless, dead expression.
"Heard about it? Those Astral Express guys left this morning."
"Phew, good. The other two aren't a big deal, but if the Executive Officer sides with Cocolia, that'd be trouble."
"Heh, he even healed my leg for me."
"Who didn't he help… If we really end up facing him, I'd feel pretty bad about it too."
A group sat against the wall corner. At their feet lay cans of spray paint and weapons.
If March 7th were here, she would recognize many familiar faces.
These were people she had seen in the Underworld before.
Yet now, they gathered here, plotting something utterly insane.
A middle-aged man holding a long knife sat alone in a corner, silently oiling and maintaining the blade.
Suddenly, a man shouted from outside:
"Brother Dao, new guy's here!"
The one called Brother Dao slightly raised an eyebrow, narrowing his long eyes, and said gravely:
"You sure he's not a spy sent by Wildfire or the Architects?"
The man scratched his head and replied:
"Shouldn't be. He says he's from some hidden lineage—his master who trained him died in the snowfield. He's back for revenge!"
"Oh? Revenge for what?"
"He said he and his master were originally from the Underworld. More than ten years ago, when they left the city to train, the lockdown order suddenly came down. They couldn't return to the Underworld, so they kept cultivating in the snowfield."
"But now that the lockdown's lifted, his master died. When he came back to the Underworld, he found his real parents dead too. So he wants to join us."
…
"Is that so? Sounds a lot like me… My wife and daughter died too. If there had been Silvermane Guards back then…"
"…"
"Heh, there are no 'ifs' in this world."
Brother Dao gave a slight smile and instructed:
"Bring him in. Let me see if he's a spy."
"Got it."
Soon, a man wearing a hood that covered his eyes was led into view.
After the hood was removed, the others finally saw his full appearance.
He wore ragged, filthy cloth clothes. His expression was solemn, and his short gray hair stood out sharply.
Dark golden pupils faintly glowed.
In his hand, he held an iron rod.
The moment Brother Dao saw him, he let out a cold laugh:
"Kid, that iron stick is your weapon?"
The gray-haired, golden-eyed man nodded vigorously and answered:
"Yeah, yeah! This humble one… ptooey."
"I've loved sticks since I was a kid—especially thick, long ones! Big bro, check out how fierce my stick is!"
Brother Dao laughed and shook his head:
"Hmph, so just a hotheaded fool. Thought it was something more."
"Kid, you know the rules around here?"
Brother Dao coldly stared at the gray-haired man and said gravely:
"To join us, you have to…"
"I get it, I get it!"
Saying that, the gray-haired man hurriedly pulled out a pack of yellow rectangular objects from his chest.
He skillfully opened the packaging and drew out a cigarette:
"Big bro, this is a little tribute from me. Ever heard of Furong Wang? Even adults and kids love smoking it!"
Brother Dao: "…"
Seeing the gray-haired man enthusiastically offering the cigarette, Brother Dao flew into a rage.
He slapped the man to the ground with one palm and roared:
"Enough! When you come here, get serious!"
He stood up, gestured around at everyone present, and barked at the gray-haired man:
"Who here is grinning like you? Didn't your master die? Didn't your parents die? Aren't you here for revenge? And you can still laugh?!"
"I think… you're the spy!"
As soon as those words came out, the gray-haired man froze on the spot.
Then.
He continued smiling:
"Brother Dao, you can't blame me! My master told me—the sadder you are, the more you have to smile!"
"…"
"Tell me—what the fuck is your name?"
The gray-haired man scratched his head while giving a silly, goofy grin:
"Just… just call me Big Bro Zeig."
"Huh?"
…