Chapter 67
Ye Yihe thought to himself, "I have a solution, but a new problem has arisen."
He couldn't directly tell the president to pay attention to Fukuchi Sakura, which would mean he was directly confronting Fyodor and revealing that he was going to fight back, and that he had a way of knowing that the vampire Fukuchi Sakura was fighting was actually not dead.
Even if Fyodor didn't guess the existence of the system, he would definitely be wary of it.
The worst-case scenario is that Fyodor decides to devour the "second personality," forcing him to engage in a battle between consciousnesses, completely exposing his own identity and making the situation extremely difficult to resolve.
This is a scene that Ye Yihe doesn't really want to see.
Therefore... the goal is to deliver the message to the president without being discovered by Fyodor.
"Ah, I see."
Ye Yihe casually praised him, "No wonder your sword-wielding posture looks so similar to that great hero's."
"Have you seen Genichiro?" The president sheathed his sword. "In the news?"
“I met him once in Norway,” Yeikh said, not going into more detail about the topic. “He was an approachable warrior.”
He casually copied Fyodor's description of Fukuchi Sakurako from back then.
Immediately, Ye Yihe heard Fyodor let out a few low, almost mocking laughs. He clearly remembered who had said that description.
Ye Yihe remained expressionless, pretending not to have heard.
"Norway... I did hear recently that he went to Norway to fight another catastrophe that nearly wiped out humanity, and was even awarded a government medal of honor."
The president recalled for a moment and nodded slightly, "Including his previous achievements, I am truly happy for Genichiro for achieving such unparalleled success."
Ye Yihe felt a little guilty, "…………"
I'm very sorry, but my good friend Genichiro, whom this president is so proud of, has now been led astray by Fyodor on his side...
Wait, why is he acting guilty? It wasn't him who did it.
I wonder if he can get back the resurrection points he lost after he stops Fudi Yingchi again.
At the moment, unlike Ye Yihe and the president who could at least have some common topics to chat about, Nakahara Chuuya, with his hands in his pockets, was waiting on the side, yawning the whole time.
There were no pretty goldfish, and I didn't recognize anyone. I got tired of the view in this consultation room after just a few glances.
Unable to resist, Ye Yihe raised his hand and patted Chuuya's fluffy orange-brown head before saying goodbye to the president and leaving.
Chuuya looked tense as his head was being patted, his lips pursed, as if he felt this was damaging to his public image—but in the end, he did not show any resistance to this comforting gesture.
"that……"
At this moment, Rimbaud, leaning against the headboard, gently called out to Ye Yihe, "May I ask... your names?"
"What are you doing, planning to seek revenge later?"
Chuuya Nakahara, who was feeling sleepy and somewhat dazed, suddenly sharpened his gaze upon hearing those words, giving the seemingly sickly former Port Mafia member a piercing look.
"Hmph, I advise you to give up that idea immediately, it's pointless. Besides, it's just their bad luck that they dared to provoke me."
Although he made those remarks, to be honest, Chuuya didn't expect that Ye Yihe would choose to eliminate the Port Mafia simply because they were searching for him...
This feeling of being protected isn't bad.
This was something he had never experienced when he was a [sheep].
"You've misunderstood,"
Lantang, wrapped in a blanket, sighed softly, but his expression did not show any panic.
"I just want to know your names... We'll definitely meet again someday, right? If I can successfully join the detective agency..."
"That's true."
Ye Yihe thought for a moment and readily told him his name, "Nakahara Chuuya,"—after pointing to the orange-haired boy whose face was still wary, he pointed to himself.
"Fyodor Dostoevsky".
"I understand." After a moment of silence, Rimbaud nodded gently.
When those eyes were raised higher, sunlight sneaked in, giving them a translucent and mysterious light golden hue, like shimmering gold dust floating on ocean waves.
“It’s an honor to meet you all,” he said. “I hope we can meet again in the future.”
“It definitely can,” Ye Yihe said.
He was still waiting to bring Verlaine to meet this relative who had been missing for several years.
To show his sincerity, the president planned to escort him and Chuuya downstairs. On the way, he happened to see Ranpo returning with a blanket. "Huh, are you leaving already?"
His tone betrayed his disappointment.
Oh dear, it's all the president's fault for causing trouble here. Otherwise, he could have pestered Fei Jia to ask about the other party's plans for the next operation. That would have been really interesting!
"Yeah, come visit me sometime next time, it's fine if you come with the club president."
Ye Yihe whispered to Ranbu, "I'll make a really delicious red bean paste dessert."
"Really?!" Ranpo's expression immediately brightened. "I'll definitely go. You'd better prepare some snacks and treats for the great detective in advance—don't be negligent!"
"no problem."
Ye Yihe then made a pinky promise with him.
Last time, he kept his word and invited Ranpo to enjoy the teahouse snacks to his heart's content; this time, Ranpo made the promise to him, and Ye Yihe was not worried that the other party would not keep it.
[Keep an eye on that Mr. Lantang.]
On the way back, Ye Yihe was surprised that Fyodor would actually remind him.
"How so?" Since Chuuya knew about his dual personality, Ye Yihe didn't need to worry that his self-talking would frighten people.
His identity is indeed not simple.
Fyodor sighed softly, "[I don't know how you negotiated with Verlaine, but one thing to note—he was very averse to mentioning this "Mr. Lantang."]
Indeed, Ye Yihe thought to himself. He remembered hearing from Sartre Bernhardt that when he mentioned Rimbaud, Verlaine had directly used his [gravity] ability to warn him to stop talking about that kind of thing.
"So you're saying... he's that transcendent being?"
What surprised Ye Yihe was not this point, but that Fyodor would actually tell him this on his own initiative and earnestly warn him to be careful.
Despite being a wicked little mouse, he was always so honest with him.
Ye Yihe gritted his teeth, feeling a subtle unease deep down—but when asked what exactly was bothering him, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
[yes,]
Fyodor's voice always had a special allure, like a lantern gently swaying in the night.
[I never imagined he'd been stuck in Yokohama for the past few years.]
[Whether he truly has amnesia or not, please be careful.] He said, [The statement that the strength of a transcendent is far superior to that of an ordinary ability user is not an exaggeration. When an ability user is assessed as a transcendent, it often means that the opponent is extremely difficult to deal with, almost like a natural disaster.]
After all, the term "superpowered person" is only used to objectively describe people with unusual abilities; it is a general term, a universal distinction for a certain group.
However, the title "Transcendent" is not something that comes naturally; rather, it is a special assessment created by the government to classify top-tier superhumans.
If one doesn't actually achieve any impressive feats in real combat, even if they are given this title, they will only become a laughing stock.
Just because someone claims to be a transcendent doesn't mean other countries will actually recognize him as one.
Conversely, when a person is recognized by various countries as a superior being, their strength is evident.
Just as Fyodor reminded him, even though Rimbaud not only had amnesia at this moment, but was also tricked into going to the lower levels of the port Mafia to be cannon fodder in the battle, Ye Yihe did not believe that he had survived by luck alone.
"I see."
Ye Yihe blinked, feeling a sudden surge of drowsiness—perhaps from being out for too long, causing his mind to become somewhat overexhausted, and this was the first sign of his fatigue.
"Dazai isn't here, you can stay outside." He returned the body decisively.
"I'm going to take a nap..."
Before the last notes had even faded, a new emotion had already shifted in those wine-red eyes. More indifferent, more ethereal, like a seemingly lifeless undercurrent, silently churning with each muffled rumble of thunder.
"It's your turn to come out."
Starting from their encounter on Leibo Street, Chuuya's impression of Fyodor wasn't bad.
Although Oda Sakunosuke had warned him that the other party was very intelligent, especially skilled in strategy, Chuuya hadn't yet experienced how intelligent this Fyodor was, and was already infuriated by another very intelligent bandage bastard.
If Ye Yihe hadn't warned him not to tell Dazai Osamu about his dual personality, Nakahara Chuuya really wanted to put Fyodor in front of Dazai and see which side of his mind would win.
He secretly hoped to see Dazai suffer a setback.
“Chuuya-kun,” Fyodor smiled at Chuuya Nakahara, “it’s been a long time.”
Even when he goes out, he usually stays in his room and almost never goes to the living room, let alone meets with Chuuya and the others.
"You better behave yourself."
Chuuya never expected that he would go from being the guardian to the watcher on the way back. "It's such a short distance, I don't want Fei Jia to nag me later about how I couldn't stop you."
"Yeah?"
Upon hearing this, Fyodor's smile widened even more, seemingly unconcerned that a nickname for his name was being used to refer to another personality—the more popular one.
"Please rest assured, I have no plans to do anything right now."
Even with this verbal guarantee, Chuuya Nakahara still kept a close eye on Fyodor the whole way, only stopping when the latter entered Ye Yihe's room and did not exhibit any suspicious behavior.
During the journey, he adhered to Oda Sakunosuke's teachings and absolutely did not listen to him talk much.
This time, they waited until sunset, and Oda Sakunosuke and Dazai Osamu returned just in time for dinner, but Ye Yihe was nowhere to be seen in the kitchen.
He's in the room.
Chuuya Nakahara pointed in the direction of Ye Yihe's room, "He's probably still sleeping."
"Hmm—then I'll make dinner tonight?"
Dazai Osamu rolled up his sleeves with great interest. "I recently learned a new recipe. It's said that those who eat it can quickly reach the Sanzu River. I'm really looking forward to it."
"If I take one step, you'll be at the Sanzu River in no time."
Chuuya Nakahara's gaze remained fixed on the game screen, his words utterly blunt: "Who wants to eat your cooking? The frog burger last time was bizarre enough! Who could come up with the idea of putting two protruding frog legs in a bun? It's gone beyond the bizarre and is heading straight for the terrifying!"
At first glance, he thought there was a dead little person with unseeing eyes inside the hamburger, which scared him so much that his heart almost stopped.
"Oh dear, it was really popular for its taste that time." Dazai Osamu blinked innocently.
In response, Chuuya Nakahara simply rolled his eyes and retorted, "And that steamed tuna eyeball you made last time, who could eat it with that dish staring at them?! I think you were just trying to scare people for fun!"
If you were to list all the good deeds that Dazai has done, there would be more than ten fingers to count them all.
"Chuuya... listen carefully."
Facing the aggressive Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai's voice suddenly lowered, his expression tense and serious, "Let me tell you, tuna eyes are a very high-class ingredient. In some places, they are even called 'Dragon's Tears,' a high-class dish."
"One of the reasons why this dish shouldn't be underestimated is its exceptionally high nutritional value. The most crucial point is that it provides amino acids and DNA, which are highly beneficial for brain development, making it especially suitable for growing children..."
"...If you want to be kicked to death, just say so, and I'll grant your wish anytime."
Chuuya Nakahara's face turned completely black.
He could even picture Dazai being kicked into the air, flying straight through the entire living room before being slammed against the wall by [gravity], like a painting glued on.
Dazai Osamu let out two satisfied laughs, as if he could also see the scene in Nakahara Chuuya's mind.
Pushkin lay on the sofa to the side to rest, listening with great interest to their bickering.
This is much more interesting than being so bored in the cell that you can only carve four horizontal lines and one vertical line to count!
"I'll cook." Oda Sakunosuke looked around and rolled up his sleeves. "The ingredients in the fridge are just right for a curry..."
"turn down!!"
“…”
Faced with unanimous opposition, the final solution was to have Ivan cook dinner that day—he was very good at making Russian and Western dishes, but he usually made desserts to go with afternoon tea.
Ivan nodded in agreement, "For the sake of letting my master sleep a little longer."
As a descendant of nobility, he wouldn't cook easily.
That being said, it was still quite strange that Ye Yihe slept until dinner time without showing up.
“I’ll go check on him,” Oda Sakunosuke stood up. “I hope he’s not sick.”
Having witnessed the other party's weak body, which could develop a fever after sleeping in an underground detention center for just one night, Oda Sakunosuke felt that the possibility of illness was greater.
This also means that he did not expect that after opening the unlocked door, the figure reflected in his eyes was another, more dangerous personality.
"Fyodor".
Oda Sakunosuke asked calmly, "What are you doing?"
The sun had long since set, and the neon lights in the distance outside the window converged into a dazzling artificial band of light, making the unlit room appear even darker; the computer screen alone was far from sufficient for illumination.
Fyodor sat quietly in front of the computer, his shoulders slightly hunched over, his figure tall but slender, without the cover of a cloak.
Without Ye Yihe's supervision, the knuckle of his left index finger was bitten into his teeth again, and the faint fluorescent light fell on his face, casting a soft light and shadow on his profile.
Are you on guard against me?
Hearing the noise at the door, Fyodor showed no obvious emotional fluctuation. He looked away from the computer screen and turned to face Oda Sakunosuke.
"Don't worry, I just plan to give him a little surprise."
Those wine-red eyes, which always seemed indifferent yet dangerous, were not obvious in the dark environment, making them appear even deeper as a dark purple, easily reminiscent of a quiet, lurking snake.
He is asleep and has not woken up yet.
Oda Sakunosuke scrutinized him cautiously, his expression calm and resolute, unmoved.
The word "surprise" sounded even worse coming from his mouth.
"You seem to doubt me."
Finally releasing the knuckles that had been bitten so deeply, Fyodor's eyes curved slightly, as if he were giving Oda Sakunosuke a friendly, harmless smile. "Well then, I think you still remember his next target, the Holy Staff."
"What are you trying to say?" Oda Sakunosuke finally spoke, "You're also one of the core members of that organization?"
Given that the other party is both the leader of the [House of the Dead] and has held a high-ranking position in the [V] organization, Oda Sakunosuke's suspicions are not unfounded.
Not to mention, given their rhetoric, it would be far too easy for them to use religion to control people's hearts.
"Of course not."
Fyodor smiled and denied it, saying, "I just called a helper for him."
“No need,” Oda Sakunosuke also refused.
According to Dazai, with their strength, eliminating the Holy Heavenly Staff would be no problem at all. The key is how to prevent them from becoming a thorn in the side of politicians who collude with the organization.
The Special Abilities Division might be able to help clean up the criminal issues, but it's obvious they can't fight against higher-ranking officials within the government.
“He is also his friend,” Fyodor sighed softly. “I assure you that he has come with no ill intentions, Mr. Oda.”
Oda Sakunosuke remained silent for a moment.
"If that's the case, why didn't you tell him beforehand?" he pointed out the key issue sharply.
Only when facing Oda Sakunosuke, Fyodor's usual rhetoric, which could easily manipulate people's emotions, was ineffective.
That's why it's called a surprise.
Fyodor blinked slowly, still smiling, seemingly unperturbed.
Even so, the choice of whether to accept it or not was entirely left to him.
When he said "him," Fyodor pressed his fingertips lightly against his heart, clearly referring to Ye Yihe, who was still asleep in the palace of consciousness.
"Can you rest assured now?"
Separated by an open door, the moonlit corridor and the interior illuminated only by a screen create a quiet yet distinct division between light and darkness.
Faced with the extremely cunning Fyodor, Oda Sakunosuke knew he could never guess what the other was thinking, so he allowed himself to rely more on instinct to judge his next move.
In this respect... he feels a bit like Dazai. Oda Sakunosuke was momentarily lost in thought.
Although he could never quite guess what Dazai was thinking, the other clearly didn't mind, and would always say things like, "Hmm, to give such an answer, as expected of Oda Sakunosuke," and "Ah, wait a minute, are you a starfish that has abandoned its brain? This action really surprises me."
"...Who exactly is this 'him' you're talking about?"
Oda Sakunosuke spoke last.
When asked this question, Fyodor's expression finally changed slightly—it was a subtle, ambiguous smile, like a snake slowly turning its cruel, vertical pupils, belonging to a predator, finally aiming at its prey.
"It is a magician who has finally finished his tour."
He replied.
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