Chapter 5: After the 0 yen purchase, I decided to continue the 0 yen purchase


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Chapter 5: After the 0 yen purchase, I decided to continue the 0 yen purchase

【My father has never contacted me since I left home.

He never communicated, never had paper or pen with him, and even lacked body language.

He only had a few notebooks from his past communications, and he hadn't communicated since his mother and brother died.

My father lives alone in the village where I grew up. Paper and pen are rarely used in villages like that. But in this remote place that has experienced war and colonization, people occasionally use short syllables instead of paper and pen to communicate. There are no strict rules and judgments, but there is also openness to the use of voices. Not so silent, but no different from silent.

Communication itself is useless.

I took my children to visit my father. I hadn't seen him for many years and he looked much older. He held my child in his arms, and his dead eyes seemed to be burning with fire. He was so sad, yet so ecstatic.

"Hello, what are you waiting for?" my child asked.

"Ah...ah..." My father had long lost the ability to speak. His voice was stagnant and dry as he tried to describe something.

"It's time to end," my child replied.

"It's time to end," my child whispered.

The mother died of sexual illness.

The official documents said that she had been a military prostitute when she was young, lived on her own after her teenage years, married my father, and gave birth to me and my brother. She died one morning more than a decade ago. A virus caused her lower body to rot and bleed. Her body was covered with milky white dew. She opened her eyes wide in pain, with torn lips and misty eyes, which often reminded me of my brother.

My brother died of illness, but it was not the same disease as hers.

No results, no reasons. I remember that morning, the villagers were silently dressed in black mourning clothes, surrounding my mother's body dressed in snow-white clothes and the big fire burning in the center. The black crowd was spinning like a whirlpool, turning and turning. The clouds in the sky are also spinning.

Death from illness, death from illness, it is so natural and so reasonable.

I was arranged to be sent to a big city with several other children.

From that day on, I learned to try not to make any sound.

Learn to be silent, forget language, close your eyes, and abandon sound.

I remember a family cut off the tongue of a sister, but it was a sin and everyone kept silent because everyone liked to keep silent, so no one stopped it. But it can be considered fair and just not to allow anyone to arbitrarily deprive others of their ability to speak.

My father and I laughed so hard on the day that family was sentenced. We laughed so heartily, so happily, and even laughed until tears streamed down our faces.

I even heard other people in the village laughing, everyone was laughing, everyone was laughing. When the live punishment ended, everyone suddenly became quiet again, just like before, just like the old days.

Ahhh, it's so quiet.

When I left, I wore black mourning clothes and stood outside the village, holding my black child.

The villagers sprinkled gasoline, my father raised the torch, sparks fell, and flames rose.

I circled the village.

Circle after circle.

I looked at my child, pacing and pleading in my heart.

Say something, my child, say something?

What else can I say?

Everyone was like this, silent on the one hand, and silently hoping that someone would say something on the other.

But in the end he said nothing.

He remained silent in the end.

——Excerpt from "Quiet Syndrome" Part 2

After the New Year, Chuuya celebrated his tenth birthday, but Chigenmaku's birthday was earlier, so his physical age was already eight years old. As the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, Chigenmaku found out about the intelligence branch he had established in Yokohama last year and decided to move away.

When he left, the King of Sheep saw him off wearing a blue bracelet. He pursed his lips and remained silent for a long time.

The King of Sheep faces the morning light in the early morning, while the sheep's house behind him is submerged in the light blue morning mist. The sharp distinction between light and dark creates a rare and wonderful beauty.

Qian Jianmu waved his hand and walked towards the outside of Leibo Street.

The place he was going to move to was a small shrine in the suburbs of Yokohama. The supernatural war had been going on for almost ten years, and Yokohama was a war zone (a poor and weak country). The concessions were divided, and the whole Yokohama was plowed, with buildings of various styles blooming everywhere. On the contrary, traditional Shintoism has gradually become unpopular. This shrine on the hill is often reported to be haunted. Since the last abbot died five years ago, the entire shrine has been abandoned because there are no descendants or heirs and no one cares about it.

The main reasons why it was abandoned are due to several key points: it is far away from the slums, located in the police patrol area (rare), and far away from the confrontation of forces (far away from the battle sites of major mafia).

In short, Sengenmaku decided to buy a house for 0 yen and live here for a while. There are probably a few Japanese-style rooms in the small shrine. Although there is no water or electricity, the environment is much better than the slums. Chigenmaku was still trying to figure out the ownership of the shrine. Many things were not suitable to be too high-profile, so he just cleaned up one or two necessary rooms and set up the early warning facilities and that was it. Water had to be drawn from the well. After struggling to get out a little water to wash his body and clothes, Qian Jianmu enthusiastically announced that he had officially moved to a new home, and wrote three large sheets of manuscript paper, which he put in a thick stack of manuscripts.

The tatami in the shrine was a bit old, but still well preserved. Sengenmaku bought a new quilt, spread it on the tatami, and buried himself in the soft quilt. His young body was dull and he felt a wave of comfort. Only now, alone in the safe house he had set up, could he completely relax.

In this way, his S attribute exploded directly on the bed. He slept for a day and a night. When he got up, it was evening. He hung the flashlight on the wall, and Qianjianmu half-closed his eyes to think about future plans.

He had no special powers, was young, had no identity, and no regular income; these were things he didn't have.

If there are no bugs, there will be basically no problem with the physique, combat skills, a computer in the brain that is not connected to the Internet, and energy that can be collected and converted into key items. This is what he has.

So there are two urgent things to do now. First, obtain identity proof in a way that leaves no trace. The second thing is to publish the manuscripts I have written so far and look for more books.

This world is relatively free, and Qian Jianmu is confident that he will be able to survive unless he is surrounded by people with special powers. There is no destined future, nor a life without light. Qian Jianmu himself has no fighting spirit, and he has no intention of stirring up this mess again. His goal and the reason why he came here is nothing more than to be able to freely and legally experience the life of a normal person, and to roam freely and illegally in the dark. Accumulate energy, avoid risks, eliminate existence, and organize capable people.

So... even if I want to publish an article, I absolutely cannot use his identity. He had to find a third party who was somewhat trustworthy and not too close to him to intervene.

As early as the beginning of last winter, Sengenbaku asked people to search for options in this regard, but it was not until the end of April that Sengenbaku received a few recommendations, the most special of which was a samurai named Fukuzawa Yukichi. Rumor has it that he is a killer with superb skills and agility, and also a user with auxiliary abilities. In the late stage of the Supernatural War, Fukuzawa Yukichi seemed to have disappeared from the killer circle, and at the same time, there was news that he had resumed his daily life.

It is difficult to tell whether the information is true or false. Even the most skilled intelligence personnel do not want to offend a former elite killer. No one tracks or investigates him. All his information is coincidental or compiled unintentionally. Therefore, this person's information uses a lot of speculation and even gives two different possibilities. But one thing is certain, he probably has no intention of doing that job again at the moment. Regardless of whether he has other plans or not, after the news of a young man appearing beside him and being taught by him was vaguely spread, the young warrior has automatically become a teacher who is educating his disciples and has retreated to the second line.

However, what got him sent before Qian Jianmu was also this man's character.

Mr. Warrior is an upright man. He is a killer, but in fact he has a gentle and tolerant personality and a decent and compassionate nature, so the old intelligence dealer has more or less respect for him. Not much, at most I would recommend this person when someone needs someone who is more positive but can also do the dirty work. Especially in the past two years, Fukuzawa Yukichi has been active around Yokohama with a child. Although the samurai's early experiences were enough to save a large sum of money, he still lives in poverty. Perhaps in order to supplement their livelihoods, the two formed a seemingly legitimate "Yojiya" gang, mainly taking on some difficult cases. The boy next to him was very smart, but a little irritable. The combination of a steady adult man and a irritable, smart boy was very lively, but they did live in turmoil. In the environment of Yokohama, it was a bit inconsistent but not uncommon.

Although the samurai and boys mainly take on some cases, their actions are to punish evil and promote good, and most of them use fair and just (Yokohama version) ways to solve problems. Their character is much better. They also take on some odd jobs, such as bodyguard protection or mediation. If it is just a simple article publishing, it can be expected that if Fukuzawa Yukichi himself is not planning anything big in private and is indeed as upright as described, then his identity is insured in the short term.

Then the next step is to let Qian Jianmu meet him to confirm the situation of this person. His psychological expectations are not high. Even if this person is indeed a villain, he has to pretend to be a villain. As long as he pretends to be good, nothing else matters. At least it proves that he is indeed capable. No matter whether he is a real villain or a real gentleman, he is much more controllable than a fool.

Qian Jianmu knew very well that blatant targets were either strong men or reckless men. He had also experienced years of wandering in his early years, and his enemies were even more terrifying, the Triple Strangler. He has maintained the habit of never revealing his identity easily. He deliberately reduces any risk that may pose a threat to him, leaving no paper evidence or DN information. Even if it is just to publish an article, he has to go around in circles until it has nothing to do with him.

There's no way, he's very weak, and the weak must have the awareness of lying dormant.

On the other hand, with the arrival of spring, mafia group activities began to revive. Taking advantage of this opportunity, identity information must also be confirmed. Clean identity information is indeed troublesome, and he is good at hiding his identity from others, so the plan needs to be carried out slowly, but he already has a goal, and has conceived two large schedules in his mind, which are stored in Zero's database.

So, the first thing is to finish writing "Mutism", which is full of his satire on the current situation in Yokohama and his contempt for freedom of speech. He thought that his writing skills were average, and he was not sure if they could even pass the review. Moreover, publishing an article required the right time, place and people. If luck was not right, he might become famous only after his death. But if this thing is given to Fukuzawa Yukichi to look at, and Fukuzawa Yukichi then gives it to the magazine, then in this way at least two people's resources will be included. In general, you won't lose money.

In the steady light of the flashlight, he spread out the manuscript paper. His flickering eyes of different colors sank into the shadows where the light could not reach. The red eye became increasingly terrifying as it grew darker. At first glance, it looked like a blood hole carved into the pupil. The golden eyes flickered for a moment, and the tip of the pen fell on the paper.

This is true for all relationships between people.

You remain silent because of me, and I remain silent because of you.

As disaster looms, we speak in low voices, fearing that even the slightest noise might usher in doomsday.

My child became more and more silent. He only made strange sneers occasionally, but other than that, he was silent most of the time.

The frightened child quieted down, but the praying father became uneasy again.

Please say something, my child, please say something.

Anything is better than this dead silence.

I begged day and night, but the child remained silent inevitably. He was so outstanding, as if he had been infected with a disease by me, and began to remain silent along with the world.

As if I had contracted a disease, I found this silence increasingly unbearable. Everything seemed dead, the dead government, the dead army, the dead laws, the dead colleagues, the dead family members, the dead children.

I am dead too.

How can this be called a human world? It's clearly a world where zombies are parading openly in broad daylight!

…………

On the 180th day after the birth of my child, the security department came to me. They showed me their permission and asked me to go to the detention center for a talk. I left my child at home, and even though he no longer spoke, I still feared his voice would be known.

I'm afraid that fatherly love has come late, but I don't know how to express it.

I was horrified to discover another cold face of this world, but now that things have come to this, I can do nothing about it.

The guards interrogated me and said that my wife, who has since been buried, had her vocal cords cut and her tongue pulled out, presumably while she was married to me. They suspected that I was forcing her to keep silent, and they even thought that I had operated on her because I was an excellent surgeon.

I firmly denied it and picked up a pen and paper to try to assert my rights, but at this point I discovered that the pen was colorless and the paper was smooth, so my assertion was useless.

It was only at this moment that I realized that I was powerless.

My parents-in-law bailed me out and provided proof that my wife was willing to undergo the surgery. Although my doubts were not dispelled, I was allowed to go home and wait for further notice.

My father-in-law and mother-in-law looked at me coldly. After submitting their supporting documents, they left without looking back. I suddenly realized that the last time I communicated with them was when I just got married.

Isn't this normal? I never overstepped the boundaries; I enjoyed and accepted the existing rules, but these rules eventually became my shackles.

I held my child in silence. This time I was locked up for three days and three nights. When I rushed home, the child had become a normal child. He no longer sneered or spoke, but was as quiet and absorbed as a doll.

I moved my throat, which had not made any sound for a long time, but nothing came out except a low roar like an animal's weeping.

Unconsciously, it was not that I chose to remain silent, but that I had lost the power to speak, and I knew nothing about it.

The guards broke into my home and formally arrested me this time for infant abuse. My newborn baby had his vocal cords cut and his tongue pulled out, exactly the same symptoms as my wife, making my crime unforgivable.

"Even if they've been buried, they'll dig it up and make the best use of it. That's really a virtue."

Faintly, I heard my child's voice after a long time, but I was sitting in the interrogation room, opposite a stern-faced police officer, and there was silence all around me.

The sound was so erratic that it was almost difficult to hear clearly.

"Have you made up your mind?" the voice asked me.

"It's time to end." The voice said with a smile.

The police officer seemed to have noticed something. He looked at me strangely and hurried out. After a while, he came back as if he had just had a quarrel and continued to interrogate me coldly.

This is not an interrogation.

This is clearly a punishment.

Excerpts from "Silence Syndrome" Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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