One night

The real urban village is densely packed with buildings, and the buildings are just as tall as those in the Upper East Side. The streets are narrow, and the residential buildings are so close together that you can almost hold hands with them.

For example, the Happiness Building.

The place was so dirty and chaotic that it defied description. Even though it was already past midnight, I kept seeing pale, sallow faces and ghostly figures walking into the building.

Even worse, Milo could always smell a strange odor, like the blood left over from slaughtering pigs and sheep, mixed with the stench of rotting garbage from the previous day.

Milo was forced to walk in front, while Blaise followed at a leisurely pace, about a meter behind him. Whenever Milo went the wrong way, Blaise would clap his hands and correct him with his voice, just like a corpse herder.

He walked into the building elevator step by step, pressed the button for the 22nd floor, and the door took almost an eternity to open until Blaze pushed him from behind. Only then did Milo stretch out his heavy foot and stare at room 2203 in front of him.

The deep red door, the color of pig's blood, was unremarkable. Blaze took a key out of his pocket and opened the door.

It was a very special and complex key, with densely packed gears. When the door opened, Milo realized just how thick and heavy it was; even a volley of machine gun bullets probably wouldn't be able to penetrate it.

It's an ideal place for murder and robbery.

Milo stood frozen in place. Blaise saw his expression but didn't urge him. He simply pushed the door open wider and waited quietly for his reaction.

The room was pitch black.

Milo wanted to say something, but when the words reached his lips, he realized he couldn't communicate with the other person, feeling powerless and frustrated.

With a heavy heart, Milo stepped inside.

The door behind him slammed shut, and Milo panicked. He couldn't see anything in the darkness, and like a headless fly, he instinctively turned back towards the door. He didn't lunge at the door; instead, he crashed squarely into someone's chest.

Milo almost instinctively gripped the other man's clothes tightly. In those few seconds, he was even glad that Blaze had come in with him instead of intending to lock him inside.

Just as he was sweating profusely and his heart was pounding, the lights came on. The sudden light was disorienting to Milo, and it was only after Blaise pushed him aside that he was able to see the entire room.

A pigeon coop; you can see all the furniture at a glance... which is practically the same as having no furniture at all.

A bed, a refrigerator, a fan, a table, and a shower room separated by a transparent curtain.

Wudong Port has no four seasons, only a sweltering summer. This small, stuffy place is even less suitable for human habitation.

Milo comforted himself, thinking that in a place like this, the body wouldn't even be preserved if someone were killed.

He brought the man in, but Blaze ignored Milo's presence. He casually took off his hat, took an ice-cold beer from the refrigerator, and then sat down in a folding chair, calmly watching the bewildered Milo.

Milo had absolutely no idea what was going on in this guy's mind, until Blaise finally kindly gave him a hint. He tapped his hearing aid, indicating that Milo could talk to him.

Are you going to kill me?

Blaise drank half a bottle of beer and shook his head.

"Are you going to lock me up here?"

The beer bottle was empty, but Blaze still shook his head.

“I didn’t mean to mess with you, you were the one who followed me first…” Milo looked at Blaise’s expression and slammed on the brakes. “I won’t tell anyone. I didn’t see anything at the funeral home.”

Blaise's Adam's apple bobbed, and he frowned, somewhat impatient with Milo's words.

Milo immediately understood that even if he saw Blaise at the scene of his crime, Blaise wouldn't care at all.

"You, you really want me to sleep with you? I don't do that kind of business."

Upon hearing this, Blaise frowned.

Milo stepped back, tripped over, and said with a half-smile, "You've investigated me, haven't you? Then you should know that I've had plastic surgery. Actually, I'm not that good-looking."

The beer bottle slammed heavily onto the table, nearly shattering the poor table into pieces.

A cloud of doubt resurfaced in Blaise's eyes. He looked at Milo, opened his phone, typed in a message, and then held up the phone.

“You went to Zhangtai, and you know the people there.”

A cold, robotic voice echoed inside the room.

Milo was speechless for a moment.

Who was the one who asked you to come back?

The robot's questioning forced Milo to waver between lies and the truth.

That's why Blaze brought him back, or rather, one of the reasons. It's just that Milo stepped on the "similar appearance" landmine, forcing Blaze to plunge back into the real world from a half-real, half-fictional game.

"You're a liar," the robot voice concluded definitively.

"Wait a minute." Milo didn't back down any further, and chuckled, "You call me a liar, but what have I lied to you about?"

Up to this point, he hadn't gained anything from Blaise, nor had he extracted any information from him. The only suspicious point was his face, which resembled someone else's. But Milo had confessed that he didn't have the original face before Blaise could even bring it up, leaving Blaise with nowhere to vent his anger.

Blaise's eyes flashed, and the two clashed in a brief silence.

Finally, Blaise put down his phone, looked at Milo, and pointed indifferently toward the shower.

Milo knew, of course, that Blaise wouldn't trust him. Last time at the store, he had personally checked him for any listening or recording devices, and this time was no exception.

The difference this time is that Blaise gave him a choice.

He will verify his identity himself, or wait for someone else to do it.

Milo moved with difficulty, stepping into the makeshift shower under Blaise's gaze, and took off his clothes piece by piece until he was completely naked.

The room was dimly lit, and the two were some distance apart, so Blaze could only see a white, jade-like silhouette with scattered bluish-purple scars on its body, like a flattened block of tofu. Its most beautiful face was hidden in the haze.

Blaze glanced at him briefly before looking away and standing up abruptly. Seeing this, Milo instinctively took a step back, but before he could take two steps, Blaze grabbed his hair. The next second, he was roughly slammed against the cold glass wall.

Milo instinctively struggled, but Blaze braced himself against Milo's back with his elbow and used his free hand to grab Milo's wrist. In the process, Blaze suddenly noticed a scar on Milo's wrist and narrowed his eyes.

Three or four intersecting marks, some dating back years. He was familiar with all kinds of wounds; these were clearly marks left by a sharp instrument.

Blaze paused, slightly taken aback. This fatal wound clearly indicated a deadly attack. This man had already narrowly escaped death.

Milo was still struggling.

The poor little lamb trembled under his hands.

Seeing how frightened he was, Blaise found it somewhat amusing. He let go of his hand and turned on the shower. The cool water extinguished his suspicions.

Blaise turned and left.

Milo remained stunned for a long time, only recovering from the violent coercion when he was completely soaked. This time, he didn't feel any threat to his life; compared to last time, the coercion came and went quickly, and he was almost immune to it.

Milos simply took a shower.

The sound of water subsided.

Milo walked barefoot on the floor tiles, while Blaze, sitting in the chair, continued to scrutinize him. When Milo turned around, Blaze only gave him a cursory glance, and that was it.

Blaze threw a towel at Milo.

Milo wrapped a towel around himself and stood there barefoot. Before he could figure out how to start a conversation, he saw Blaise suddenly stand up and roll off his clothes.

That should be a light wheat-colored skin naturally tanned by the sun, covered with scars of all sizes, and with very obvious raised muscle lines.

His entire back was covered in black tattoos, twisting and undulating, obscuring a large area of ​​burn scars. The central deity was tall and imposing, its lines outlining a sacred silhouette, its radiant fingertips reaching towards the kneeling, emaciated believer. Thorns, like demonic tentacles, spread, their sharp points extending all the way to his right neck. Despite being a religious tattoo, it inexplicably inspired fear at first glance.

Blaze walked toward Milo, squatted down in front of him, and suddenly his rough hands grasped Milo's feet. Milo could clearly feel the calluses on the man's palms.

When their skin touched, Milo curled his toes.

Then... Blaze lifted Milo's wet feet and pulled out his clothes and phone from underneath.

Milo took a step back, and Blaise placed Milo's clothes on the small table, with the shattered phone on top of them.

Blaze casually pulled open a hidden door next to the small table, and the open red corner inside made Milo realize that it was a vault, a very large vault.

Blaze casually pulled out a stack of cards, placed them under Milo's broken phone, and tapped them twice.

Milo was puzzled.

Blaze looked up at Milo and repeated the action: closing his eyes and then opening them again.

Milo suddenly realized.

When Blaise said "sleep," he meant simply spending the night resting.

So, from the beginning, Blaise meant to let him stay overnight.

For a moment, Milo's expression was complicated.

Blaise pointed to the bed, and Milo moved over and tried to sit down. It was softer than he had expected.

Milo slowly lay on his side on the bed, his back against the wall, facing Blaise, watching his movements.

A buzzing vibration suddenly sounded, and Blaise, who was about to go into the shower, suddenly became serious. He glanced at his phone, then picked up his clothes and hat, and pulled a gun from above the refrigerator.

Milo stared blankly at the scene, meeting Blaze's gaze.

Blaze tapped the wall with the butt of his gun to signal him to be quiet, took two steps, then turned back, bent down and turned the fan head toward the bed, and quickly went out.

Milo was wrapped in the sheet, and even the fan's air seemed warm. Only when he was absolutely certain there was no sound, so quiet he could hear breathing, did Milo get out of bed. He searched the darkness for any possible source of surveillance light, but then he realized that Blaise didn't care about him; if he wanted to be wary, he wouldn't have brought him back in the first place, so there was no need for surveillance.

To him, he was just an insignificant nobody.

Milo got up, fumbled for his original clothes, and put them back on.

The phone's battery dropped to 10%, and the cracked screen displayed the time: 3 a.m.

Unlocked, but it shows no signal.

Using the dim light from the screen, Milo opened the cabinet door under the table. Inside, there were indeed piles of messy cash, filling the entire cabinet with almost no gaps.

Milo closed the door, slowly stood up, and touched the pigeon coop inch by inch, piecing together the details of the entire coop in his mind, revealing its full picture.

There was only one incongruous thing in the room.

A crystal ball decoration, far too childish.

A raging flame burning amidst snowflakes. Pressing the switch produces a mechanical melody, similar to that of a music box. Milo recognizes the general idea—a variation of the rhythm of a bird's poem.

The music, which should have been beautiful, now gave me the creeps.

Milo picked up the crystal ball and examined it thoroughly, but in the end, he had to confirm that it was just an ordinary little thing.

The space under the bed remains unchecked.

The space under the bed is always a hotbed of horror stories. Milo was prepared for anything, but this time he was unusually lucky.

It was just a pile of miscellaneous items, some of which were covered in dust. Only one shoebox was free of dust and looked like it had been recently moved around.

Milo, with her phone in her mouth, carefully took out the box.

The box contained many bones of varying sizes, somewhat resembling snake bones. The rest were handwritten notes in strange, exotic script, like a string of buttocks, followed by awkward Chinese and English characters. It seemed to be someone practicing writing, trying hard, but the handwriting was surprisingly poor.

In addition, there are two special cards in the box.

It was a worn-out invitation, but the quality of the materials was evident. It was an invitation to a coming-of-age ceremony at the St. Sivir Cathedral on Wanyang Island. The invitation wasn't specifically addressed to any particular recipient; it seemed to have been distributed widely. The name of the person celebrating their coming-of-age was in silver lettering, shimmering slightly against the downy paper.

Theo Green.

The other was a brand-new banquet admission ticket. It was entirely dark red, like a beating heart, with gilded lettering resembling intertwined veins. The card also didn't specify an invitee, but there was a unique code in the lower right corner that felt raised to the touch, like an embedded chip.

A heartwarming charity gala.

Milo snapped two photos of the cards, and just before he finished, his phone battery died and it shut down completely.

After doing all this, Milo carefully put the things back in their original places.

Milo sat on the bed, unable to sleep all night until dawn, staring at the dripping water from the showerhead.

Blaise did not return.

The pigeon coop had no windows, so Milo had no way of knowing the time until a ray of sunlight seeped into the room through the crack in the door. Only then did Milo vaguely realize that the sun was setting and it was already afternoon.

Milo decided not to wait any longer and went out.

Fortunately, the door could be opened from the inside, but that also meant he would never be able to get in easily again.

When I walked out of the Happiness Building, it was indeed past four o'clock in the afternoon.

Milo walked a long way before using the bill Blaze had given him. He found a shopping mall to charge his phone, and the old device slowly turned on.

As Milo slowly walked toward the shop, he pondered how to restore the renovations, how much insurance would cover, or whether he should give up on this "home."

Before he even reached the shop, he saw two police cars parked in front of it, and several police officers were negotiating with the owners of several nearby shops. Passersby stopped to watch from time to time.

One of the young police officers appeared to be very agitated.

"Jesse?" Milo asked, puzzled.

The young policeman, who was speaking, suddenly turned around, saw Milo, froze on the spot, then strode forward and slapped Milo on the shoulder, but gently.

"Why was your phone off when I called you? Didn't I tell you not to go out around lately? What's wrong with your shop? I thought you'd been kidnapped and killed!" Jesse's voice was incredibly loud as she launched into a tirade.

Milo said blankly, "My phone is dead."

"You didn't even know to ask for help when the power was out?" Jesse, seeing his expression, lost all his anger. He pulled Milo into the car. "Don't say anything more. You can stay at my place for a while."

Milo tried to politely decline, but Jesse half-helped him into the car: "I have something important to tell you."

Along the way, the sirens blared incessantly, and Milo finally noticed that countless police cars had been deployed throughout Wudong Port, a scene comparable to a crime movie.

Jesse, who was usually so carefree, looked serious this time. Looking at his sweaty temples, Milo vaguely realized that something big had happened in Wudong Port.

It wasn't until he got out of the car and went inside that Milo finally asked what had happened.

Jesse didn't reply to him, but instead turned on the TV.

A breaking news story takes over the screen, with scrolling subtitles in both Chinese and English.

"We have received the latest news that a cargo ship has been found at the city's dock, with several unidentified bodies found on board. All of them have had their organs removed to varying degrees. Preliminary investigation has revealed that they are missing persons from this city. We are now reminding all citizens to stay at home and take precautions."

Milo looked at Jesse.

“Milo, listen, just pretend you never heard me say that I asked you to go undercover.” Jesse sat up straight in front of Milo.

Milo remained silent for a long time before finally saying, "So all that undercover bonus stuff was just something you made up, right? That was your own money."

After graduation, Milo didn't live by conventional standards. He only took short-term jobs and spent the last two years running that small, run-down shop. Jesse noticed Milo's financial difficulties, but he couldn't be too direct. So, under the guise of an undercover operation, he slipped him money, setting a deadline for payment of the bonus to make it seem legitimate.

Milo had actually guessed it. After all, no police station would give him $50,000 for nothing, only to have him do a half-hearted job, and Jesse only gave him a little information when he asked.

"I must have been out of my mind." Jesse's face showed anxiety. "That Rye guy, the cases he's involved in are far more dangerous than gang fights. You absolutely must not get close to him. No matter who asks you to be this damn stunt double, don't agree, understand?"

Milo glanced at the news and asked, "Jesse, were you also tricked?"

Jesse was taken aback, looked at Milo, and said with a headache and helplessness, "Why do you always have such inexhaustible intelligence in this kind of thing?"

Milo sighed and said, "Actually, you could have just told me. I'm much bolder than you think."

Jesse placed his hands on his face, struggled for a long time, and finally spoke, saying, "Milo, do you know who you look like?"

Milo looked at Jesse quietly.

"Richard Green's son, the former chairman of the Wanyang City Fog Forest Medical Association—"

"Theo Green".