EDEH Chapter 47.1

[007 Diary Eighteen]

 

[The little evil dragon’s luck is always good—he actually ran into one of the hardest observation targets to find.

 

Old He’s full name is Herman Coke, also the former highest executive officer of supervisors, number 041.

 

Something seems to have happened in between. After his term ended, he voluntarily became the director of the relic organization department, bustling between the dead and the dead.]

 

·

 

Lu Tiancong was just a chance encounter for Sang Jue—he had only seen him once from across the hospital corridor, feeling only numbness and desolation.

 

Sang Jue was an evil dragon with no plans for the future, so he had never thought about what the future would hold for this man who had lost all his teammates and broken a leg.

 

He had never imagined that the next time he heard this name, it would be news of his suicide.

 

Sang Jue quietly pursed his lips.

 

Why? Was it as Uncle Bao Cang had said—after losing everything he could lose, he couldn’t find a reason to live anymore?

 

Shiwei glanced at Sang Jue and said casually: “Does little sweetheart know Lu Tiancong?”

 

“I’m not called little sweetheart,” Sang Jue corrected. “I’m called Sang Jue.”

 

“Okay, little sweetheart.”

 

Compared to the majority of rough and careless men now, Sang Jue indeed looked very ‘sweet.’

 

“…”

 

Sang Jue thought about it and still answered: “I don’t know Lu Tiancong, I just saw him at the hospital.”

 

“Lu Tiancong with the broken leg? Was he still handsome?” Shiwei asked.

 

“I don’t know, maybe handsome,” Sang Jue added. “Not as handsome as the executive officer.”

 

Old He, who was helping count the relics, glanced over in surprise: “Which executive officer?”

 

There was only one highest executive officer of supervisors, but there was more than one executive officer.

 

Even knowing most people didn’t like Huo Yanji, Sang Jue didn’t avoid it: “Huo Yanji.”

 

Shiwei laughed: “Nice, nice, a kindred spirit, little sweetheart. Huo Yanji is my second dream lover.”

 

Sang Jue frowned, not knowing whether to be bothered by the “little sweetheart” nickname first, or bothered that a female liked Huo Yanji, or bothered by—

 

Sang Jue said dissatisfied: “Why is he only second? Who’s first?”

 

Shiwei raised an eyebrow: “Is this important?”

 

Sang Jue thought about it—it didn’t seem very important. This was someone else’s secret, and he shouldn’t pry too much.

 

He looked at the warehouse manager Old Mac and said: “I didn’t bring a cart today. Can I come back another day to pick things up?”

 

Old Mac nodded: “Yes.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Sang Jue turned around, thought about it, and still said to Shiwei: “Don’t make Huo Yanji your dream lover anymore. He promised me he wouldn’t look for females.”

 

After saying this, Sang Jue frowned again—he had almost forgotten that on this planet, males and males being together was also common. He still needed to make Huo Yanji promise not to look for males either.

 

In any case, no people would work… animals wouldn’t work either.

 

Otherwise, he’d forcibly knock Huo Yanji unconscious and take him back to his home planet, tie him to the bedroom bed as a replacement for his pillow.

 

Hmph.

 

Shiwei wanted to laugh a little. At first she thought Sang Jue was bragging, but his expression was very serious, making her think of those recent rumors.

 

Could it be such a coincidence?

 

She put away her joking expression and asked seriously: “Do you really know Huo Yanji?”

 

Sang Jue didn’t answer that he knew him, nor did he deny it: “I’m leaving now. Goodbye.”

 

“Wait!”

 

Old He, who had just finished piling relics into the warehouse, straightened up, looked at Sang Jue for a while, and asked: “Are you looking for work?”

 

Sang Jue hesitated: “I indeed don’t have work, but I haven’t decided whether to look for it.”

 

Going outside the city to do mercenary missions had no benefit for him, unless everyone he encountered was an important figure like Huo Yanji, which could help 007’s data analysis.

 

But if he stayed in the city, he would need a job to support himself.

 

Old He clapped his hands and introduced himself hoarsely: “My name is Herman, but everyone usually calls me Old He. This is my employee Shiwei. We’re from the Supervision Bureau’s Resident Relics Organization Department. Are you interested in becoming our colleague?”

 

Sang Jue said honestly: “But becoming a supervisor requires passing an exam first, and I don’t like exams.”

 

And he was a ‘deviant.’

 

There was no precedent yet for a deviant becoming a supervisor.

 

Sang Jue suddenly felt strange. Why couldn’t deviant and supervisor identities coexist? Work like relic organization could actually be done by deviants too, right?

 

But it seemed most deviants were mercenaries or soldiers—other professions were rarely seen.

 

Although Shiwei was surprised that Old He suddenly invited a stranger, she still cooperated: “Our department is one of the busiest in the Supervision Bureau, but we’re assigned the fewest people. We’re so busy our feet don’t touch the ground every day—either at dead people’s houses or on the way to dead people’s houses.”

 

Old He nodded: “Becoming a supervisor indeed requires an exam, but we can hire external personnel.”

 

Sang Jue hesitated somewhat, but suddenly heard 007’s voice in his ear: [I suggest you accept. This job is good—you can contact people from all levels of society.]

 

Sang Jue looked at Old He.

 

Old He was an elderly man with graying temples and a somewhat hunched back. His scent indicated he was between 60 and 70 years old. At this age, for ordinary people who hadn’t deviated, death wasn’t far away.

 

His eyes were cloudy, but behind the cloudiness, something seemed hidden.

 

Sang Jue asked directly: “Do you know me?”

 

Old He laughed: “You said your name is Sang Jue.”

 

Sang Jue nodded.

 

Old He said honestly: “This morning, I received a recommendation letter from General Huo.”

 

“…”

 

Sang Jue understood—this was a job Huo Yanji had found for him.

 

Shiwei was immediately amused: “You’re the one from the rumors—”

 

Old He glanced at her: “Don’t talk nonsense.”

 

Shiwei shrugged and extended her hand to Sang Jue: “Welcome to being my colleague.”

 

Sang Jue was a bit conflicted.

 

Although both 007 and Huo Yanji wanted him to do this job, but…

 

He finally extended his hand, briefly shaking hands with Shiwei and saying: “Thank you, I can try it for a few days first.”

 

Shiwei leaned over and whispered: “Did you really sleep with Huo Yanji?”

 

“…No.”

 

Sang Jue instinctively wanted to say that males and males couldn’t sleep together, but Colin’s words surfaced in his ears—they could use the back…

 

He lowered his head, pondering whether that would bring pleasure.

 

Humans were different from animals. The mating process for animals was very painful. They mated by instinct, like programmed code. When spring came, at specific times or points, they were supposed to reproduce.

 

But human mating was not only for reproduction, but also for pleasure.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Shiwei patted his shoulder. “Let’s go!”

 

Sang Jue followed in confusion: “Where are we going?”

 

Old He said: “To the next house.”

 

Sang Jue followed behind, bewildered: “Do I have to go too?”

 

Shiwei walked while turning back to ask: “You could start working in a couple days if you want, but we’re really super busy lately.”

 

Alright then.

 

After considering, Sang Jue still followed them, because even if he left now, he didn’t know what else to do.

 

Leaving the Relics Management Office, even breathing felt easier.

 

A man who walked out at the same time as Sang Jue carried a cardboard box containing his friend’s entire life. He took a deep breath and exhaled long, probably trying to convince himself to let go.

 

Shiwei, who had turned right, waved without looking back: “This way!!”

 

The main city during the day was incredibly busy. Because of the curfew, most things had to be handled during the day.

 

The death list in Shiwei’s hand was long enough to drag on the ground. She walked while muttering: “Next house… Lower District 13th Alley 12-501, homeowner named Yu Ren, a fish-human gene deviant. This name… might as well just call him mermaid.”

 

Another name he’d heard before.

 

Sang Jue was stunned: “How did he die?”

 

Shiwei was surprised: “You know him too?”

 

Sang Jue said: “Yu Ren was a lighthouse worker. When I went to deliver my friend’s medal before, I talked to him. His fish scales were very beautiful.”

 

“Fish scales that can’t be retracted? Sounds like a low-level fusion deviant.” Shiwei frowned. “Since he worked at the lighthouse, that means he didn’t leave the city… could he have been killed by extremist conservatives?”

 

Old He, walking at the front with his back slightly bent, said: “Don’t make baseless speculations.”

 

Sang Jue didn’t understand: “Conservatives?”

 

Old He obviously knew from Huo Yanji that Sang Jue was a new resident, so he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t understand these things.

 

“Currently, survivors in safe zones are roughly divided into three factions. First, the radicals, who advocate that genetic contamination is human ‘evolution.’ Second, the neutrals, who insist on maintaining pure human bloodlines and genes, refusing ‘evolution’ but not interfering with others’ choices—”

 

Old He knew the city layout very well and walked smoothly without maps or navigation.

 

Passing through gray high-rises, Old He led them down a seemingly endless flight of dilapidated stairs. After being on the steps for a while, it gave the illusion of descending into hell.

 

It was really too dark below, with cold winds and humid air. Sunlight was blocked by dilapidated buildings, and there were many abandoned cans on the street, with accumulated rainwater from many days of storms still not dried up.

 

Yu Ren lived in such places.

 

The first feeling upon entering was narrow and cramped. Both walls were lined with huge ventilation pipes, mostly under residents’ windows, wrapped with porcupine-like wire, probably to prevent thieves.

 

There were some old shops on both sides, especially many small taverns—the kind you couldn’t go inside and sit in.

 

Bartenders stood behind street-side bar counters, with rows of high stools outside. Customers sat on the street, drinking and chatting with bartenders or people nearby.

 

But the atmosphere here was somewhat eerie. To be precise, the residents of the lower district were somewhat eerie.

 

Sang Jue followed behind Old He, walking past one intersection after another, stepping up one flight of stairs after another. The deeper they went, the darker the light became, and the more oppressive it felt.

 

Every person he had seen so far was like Yu Ren—a low-level fusion deviant whose genetic fusion had brought irreversible changes to their appearance.

 

Several men sitting on shabby high stools turned to glance at them, their eyes revealing viciousness and undisguised hostility.

 

The man on the left looked most terrifying. His right half-face was like melted flesh-colored matter, maintaining a downward flowing shape, with the flesh on his chin forming a teardrop shape as if it might fall off at any moment.

 

His right eyeball wasn’t in its socket either, but at the junction between his nostril and mouth corner, wrapped in flesh-colored matter with the white of his eye turned outward, only a small piece of the eyeball exposed.

 

Even his right hand holding the wine glass had melted and stuck together, with only the thumb able to move normally.

 

Sang Jue asked Old He, who was leading the way: “You just said there were three factions, what’s the other one?”

 

Shiwei said: “The last faction is the ‘conservatives.’ The word ‘conservative’ might be beautifying them a bit.”

 

Old He spoke in a hoarse voice, slowly explaining: “They insist that ‘those not of our race must have different hearts and are all monsters,’ believing that deviants who have fused with other genes have already been tainted by devils and don’t deserve to be called human. They think that one day, humanity’s noble bloodline will be destroyed by these monsters.”

 

“…”

 

Shiwei continued: “They have deep hostility toward low-level fusion deviants, and some highly extreme conservatives will even hunt these deviants.”

 

Sang Jue was stunned: “Is that how Yu Ren died?”

 

Shiwei said lazily: “Just speculation. After all, the city’s security is still pretty good, except for those conservatives who always cause trouble.”

 

They stopped at the end of an alley, facing a narrow staircase going up. Yu Ren lived on the fifth floor, and there wasn’t even an elevator here.

 

“Early on, the lower district was a mixed bag, occupied by criminals, thieves, and dangerous elements. Later, security gradually improved, but no one liked living in such sunless places. The lower district area wasn’t small either, so the cost of renovation was too high.”

 

The three walked in the dim stairwell. Shiwei took out a flashlight from her bag and continued: “Later, the lower district gradually evolved into a gathering place for low-level deviants, because they faced deep discrimination up above. Conservatives called them ‘monsters who can’t see the light.'”

 

“They must be very sad.”

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