Chapter 25

He returned to Yokohama seven years ago.

When a sharp explosion was heard from the direction of Raibo Street, Weilaine realized this very clearly.

The thoughts in my brain turned into a blank in the roar, but my body couldn't help but run in that direction. At first, I stumbled forward in that direction relying only on my body's functions, and after my consciousness caught up, I mobilized all my body's superpowers.

What is he doing? Even if it's in the past, what difference does it make?

Should we take away Chuuya Nakahara during this period of time, or should we put an end to his partner Rimbaud once and for all?

Rimbaud, what should we do with him?

His mind was in a mess, and when he finally realized what was happening, Wei Erlane had already appeared in the center of Leibo Street. He was also seriously injured at the time, and after escaping, he immediately tried to find a way to leave the city.

So Weilun was unable to see the full picture of the accident. The rage of the tyrant burned almost everything, and the soil buried deep underground was also reduced by several layers as fuel. The place where the blue coastline could be seen before was now a funnel-shaped hell. The black flames were spreading, wantonly declaring the anger of the gods.

Verlaine's Adam's apple moved. He had clearly expected this, but he was still shocked when he saw the scene. What a serious disaster he had caused.

Verlaine was searching frantically in the disaster area. It was unclear whether he was looking for Nakaye or Rimbaud, but he couldn't leave either of them in such a place.

Finally, he found his partner in the rubble. His long black hair had lost its former luster, his cheeks were covered with dust, his coat was stained with blood, and he lay dying in the ruins.

His partner, Rimbaud, was an excellent intelligence agent. He was refined and elegant, and always did everything with ease. There was no way he would lie dying in a foreign country.

The Rimbaud in his memory and the Rimbaud in front of him kept switching, and finally merged into a phantom. Verlaine's hands trembled unconsciously. He stretched out his hand to touch the person in front of him, but it was out of reach, and his fingertips passed directly through the phantom.

In disbelief, Weilun tried again, but still passed through the person in front of him.

"Is this an illusion?" Verlaine's lips moved.

A voice behind him said, "This really happened nine years ago."

Weilun turned his head sharply, and his gravity ability responded automatically, but the stone that was supposed to float silently as a weapon did not respond. The silver umbrella tip passed very close to his eyes and pointed in another direction.

The tall ghost stood on the ruins of bricks and stones, with black flames burning behind her. In the direction of her umbrella, several people in white coats looked at Rimbaud buried under the ruins in surprise.

The leading woman said in surprise: "There is still a living person here." As she spoke, the rescue team led by her walked towards Rimbaud.

Verlaine subconsciously stretched out his hand to block the men who were approaching his partner, but the three-member collection team passed straight through Verlaine's body.

"In this world, you are the illusion." Bashayang stated on the side.

Weilun was still maintaining the blocking posture he had just made. He turned around slowly like an old puppet and saw the collection team moving the bricks and stones and moving the seriously injured people onto stretchers.

No, it shouldn't be like that. First of all, we have to stop Rimbaud's bleeding. Be careful with his head and don't cause any secondary injury.

The first aid knowledge taught by his partner had never been so clear in his mind. Weilun corrected those unprofessional first aid actions over and over again in his mind, but his outstretched hand never landed on the man.

A sneer came from above his head: "Since you didn't save him nine years ago, why must you be the one to save him now?"

Wei Erlaine slowly raised his head, his blue eyes staring at the person in front of him: "Who are you to judge me? What do you know about me?"

"At least as someone who has been hurt by you, these are things I can evaluate." Bashiyang ripped open the front of his shirt, revealing a large area of ​​skin and the hideous wounds hidden under the cloth without any scruples.

"You are, Yokohama?" Weilun reacted.

As a non-human being living in a world dominated by humans, even though Rimbaud told him over and over again that he was a human, Verlaine could not find a sense of reality. As he looked directly into the purple-gray eyes in front of him, he actually found empathy in the city consciousness.

They are both inhuman beings, and are both exploited and harmed by humans. They are both unable to make their own voices...

"I..." Weilun wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words for a moment.

Bashiyang looked at him coldly, and then the next moment he swung his umbrella down heavily.

The umbrella did not fall on Verlaine, but instead was like a signal for the beginning of the scene, which changed from the ruins of Rabat Street to the noisy and messy ward.

The long-haired man curled up in a corner of the bed, with the unclean bedding wrapped around him. The city was about to enter summer, but he was still in eternal winter and could not feel the warmth.

That was the Rimbaud that Verlaine had never seen.

"He has lost his memory. He has forgotten his name, past, and even his special abilities. This is a relief center. The government is not well-off, so they will take in people from the disaster area for a month." Bashayang explained again.

Verlaine looked at the man on the bed sadly, and this time he took the initiative to ask: "What will happen to him in a month?"

Bashiyang paused for a moment, searching his memory: "Those who can find their relatives will be picked up, and those who can't will be given a small subsidy so that they don't end up on the streets so quickly."

Without waiting for Verlaine to respond, she continued, “But he doesn’t belong to this country, and the government doesn’t give him any subsidies.”

Digging his nails deep into his palms, Verlaine couldn't help but imagine Rimbaud, penniless and living on the streets. He was a powerful transcendent, a child of destiny, how could he become like this?

Verlaine knew that this was his mistake.

However, the incarnation of Yokohama did not give him time to repent, and his bright red lips uttered vicious words: "By the way, and the existence of your brother, Nakahara Chuuya, do you know how he is doing at this time?"

"He has no relatives, no memories, and he's not even a child. His situation is even more miserable than your partner's. You can imagine a child like that being bullied."

Verlaine's pupils trembled. What should he do? When he came into the world, he had Rimbaud to teach him common sense and reason, but he had nothing.

The umbrella tip waved once more, and Verlaine thought he would see Chuuya’s miserable childhood, but—

Under the clear blue sky, the white-haired boy stretched out his hand to the little child.

"You have nowhere to go? Then come with me. The Sheep is an organization that helps homeless children!"

On a stormy night, the older girl wrapped the thin boy in a stall.

"Chuuya, we won't be cold if we wrap ourselves in blankets. It would be troublesome if we get sick. We don't have money to buy medicine."

In the afternoon dusk, a group of children surrounded their sheep king.

"You are so awesome, Chuuya. You lifted such a heavy object up in one go! With Chuuya here, we won't have to worry about being bullied anymore."

The eight-foot-like voice sounded again: "Look, we can live well without your child."

“That’s only because they didn’t discover Chuuya’s identity.” Weilun retorted, “And didn’t the sheep abandon Chuuya afterwards? It’s simply because he’s too powerful. Because he’s powerful, he’s become an outlier.”

Bashiyang did not argue, but just showed him the next scene.

In the dark alleys of Yokohama.

The long-haired man killed the man in front of him neatly, and the blood splattered on his cheek. Wei Erlain thought the man would wipe off the blood in disgust. His partner did not like killing people, and he hated the smell of blood.

However, the young man, who was already called Lan Tang, simply wrapped his scarf tightly and put his hands in his pockets, trying to get some heat from the thick coat.

He said to himself, "This is the third one. There are five more targets. If we kill them quickly, we can go back. The weather is really too cold."

His body was a little hunched, and Verlaine saw him numbly raising the cannon to kill target after target, and finally returning to his house before the sun set.

The space here is narrow, but it is filled with everything that can provide warmth.

"How could he become like this?" Weilun squeezed out the words with difficulty. "He likes spacious places and Nordic-style decorations. It is impossible for him to live in a place like this and become so afraid of the cold."

"He's sick." This time it was Bashiyo who explained, "It's a mental illness that causes him to always feel cold."

Verlaine stood in front of Rimbaud, but the long-haired man's eyes reflected a red heater, not him.

"Why didn't he go to the doctor? Just, is there no one who can help him?" Verlaine was so angry that he even became incoherent at the end. "I remember that he was a person who could make friends easily."

Bashayang mocked him unceremoniously: "You want him to make friends? He can't even fit in this city, just like you can't fit in human society. He is also an alien in this city."

After saying this, he raised the pure white umbrella again, and this time, Weilaine held the middle of the umbrella tightly to prevent it from falling.

"Don't go on. I don't want to watch it anymore." Tears were already silently falling from his eyes, one after another. "That's enough. He's dead anyway."

This was the first time that the manipulator of gravity lost to someone else in terms of strength. Because this was the barrier of Yokohama, Yashayo could do whatever she wanted.

"You can't stop just because you say you don't want to continue. You should know that this is a punishment for you!"

This is the final scene, because Verlaine already knew that his partner's life ended at the hands of two teenagers.

The description of this scene on the piece of paper that conveyed the information contained no more than three lines.

What was his expression at the time? As a spy, he should not be moved by things that can no longer be undone. This was what Rimbaud taught him, so when he knew that Rimbaud did not die seven years ago, but died in Raibo Street six years later, his expression should have been indifferent. After all, he had already killed Rimbaud once.

It was not until he saw the long-haired man lying in a pool of blood that Weilun touched his cheek and felt it was cold. It turned out that he was crying.

Is that the case? Did Rambo always think that he killed his partner, so he gave up returning home and gave up the hope of survival? Even after his death, did he stay in this land for another year in order to be able to help him again?

I'm sorry, Rimbaud.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

The man who looked like a Norse god cried like a child.

This time he was able to touch Rimbaud's body. Verlaine picked up his partner's body. The scenery around him was no longer Rabo Street, but a warm and beautiful beach.

He picked up Rimbaud's body and walked towards the sea step by step.

This time, at least let him accompany her.

(End of this chapter)