Chapter 112 "Brother." [I hope you, like me, hate people...]
The murder occurred in the next alley.
What's so interesting about this place?
No!
Absolutely not!
That long-lost, incongruous sense of shame welled up in Ike Watari again.
That's why he didn't want to come.
While it's hard to say whether I prefer Sang Li before or after her amnesia—after all, it's still her—the restlessness they bring is worlds apart.
Like red roses and white moonlight, of course, this is in a positive sense.
Chi Du pulled Sang Li away.
Sang Li grinned from ear to ear, tugging at his sleeve: "What's going on? I look pretty impressive."
"Just don't touch the mark, and don't make me submit. But I've been through a lot now, how about we see who's stronger?" Chi Du was clearly both angry and embarrassed, and didn't want to mention what he had just witnessed.
Sang Li had a lot of leisure time back then.
Sang Li squinted her eyes: "No, brother, I was wrong, okay?"
"That sounds nice, shout it a few more times."
"Tsk."
The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay, mixed with the dampness characteristic of 18th-century London.
At the end of the narrow cobblestone path, patrolling police had already set up a cordon. Several men wearing top hats were talking in hushed tones, occasionally glancing at the corpses in the dark alley.
There really was a murder.
Sang Li held her breath and scanned her surroundings.
This should be the most important location.
So where might the clues she left behind be hidden?
Soon, my gaze was drawn to a familiar figure.
It was a blond, blue-eyed child, no more than ten years old, squatting on the street corner, looking focused, holding a charcoal pencil in his hand, sketching the scene in front of him on a piece of paper.
Sang Li raised an eyebrow.
He's someone I know.
Sloan.
He was still a little boy at that moment, drawing earnestly, his eyes as clear as the sky.
It's still very good-looking.
The anchor point is right here.
If the painting is the anchor point, then the past self must have left something in this scene.
The question is, how was it left behind?
It's definitely not a painting.
Painting belongs to Sloan, which is not very safe or secure.
She couldn't help but turn back to look at Chi Du: "Do you know?"
Chi Du shrugged, his expression somewhat subtle: "I don't know."
"How could I not know? You were clearly here."
“Well, all I know is that we’ve already left.” Chi Du glanced at her meaningfully. “We left after we finished those things.”
“…” Sang Li’s eye twitched. “What is it?”
Chi Du cleared his throat and turned his face away: "Torture me."
"..."
Sang Li was eager to try: "I want to torture you too."
Chi Du: "You don't have that ability anymore, okay?"
"Oh."
Sang Li was about to greet Slo when, at the same time, Slo suddenly looked up, his clear, bright eyes fixed on her: "Madam, you left a purse behind."
The voice was young, but every word was clear.
Sang Li was startled.
She subconsciously looked down and, sure enough, saw an unfamiliar dark leather bag lying in the mud at her feet, as if it had been waiting there all along.
She and Chi Du exchanged a glance.
It looks like this.
Sang Li bent down and picked up the bag; it was heavy.
Now is not the time to be disgusted by getting mud on your face.
Inside the purse was a thick stack of papers. Sang Li turned to the top page, which was in her own handwriting.
"Found it," she whispered.
Chi Du stared at it quietly for a few seconds, then said in a deep voice, "Then let's go back. The rift won't last long and won't allow you to explore the entire area here."
"good."
Just as I was about to take a step, I heard the childish voice again.
“Beautiful lady,” Slow put down his charcoal pencil, a surprising seriousness in his eyes, “you are very beautiful. May I draw a portrait of you?”
Sang Li smiled sheepishly: "But I have to leave."
Slo pursed his lips, looking somewhat unhappy, and asked nervously, "Will we...will we ever meet again?"
The stench and bloodshed around him seemed to disappear, as if Sangli had returned to the Rose London where he had been kidnapped by Sloan.
Without thinking much, Sang Li blurted out, "Yes, in Paris."
The child's eyes lit up for a moment, like a morning star being ignited.
Chi Du frowned slightly but said nothing. He simply reached out and took her shoulder, leading her to a quiet street corner.
The crack appeared in the air like a dark blue watermark, and the distorted light swallowed the dirty 18th-century street scene.
In the blink of an eye, they tumbled back into their familiar seaside cottage.
It smells fresh and pleasant.
Back at the seaside cottage, the wind subsided, and the damp air and the scent of wood brought a sense of peace.
Sang Li placed the leather bag on the table, took out the message she had left for herself; the ink was still dark and deep, as if it had not faded even after centuries.
She glanced down and gasped for breath.
[Dear Sang Li, when you find this purse, you should feel like you're a very clever person. Of course, I'm clever too.]
The plan has reached a very important stage; now it's up to you.
I hope you, like me, hate humanity.
Sang Li frowned.
Chi Du leaned closer and asked, "What's that written?"
Sang Li couldn't help but look up and tease, "It seems I didn't really trust you before. You actually wrote this to yourself without telling you."
Chi Du was taken aback, his gaze deepening as if he had been pricked by an invisible thorn.
Sang Li immediately realized she had said the wrong thing and was about to make amends.
The next second, he pounced on her and pinned her to the bed.
"..."
It seems I still can't be soft-hearted.
The wooden plank creaked as Sang Li pushed Chi Du away: "Don't come any closer. I'm about to start using my brain. Don't think with your lower body. We just did it yesterday, and my legs are sore, sore, sore."
Chi Du lowered his head, his breath brushing against her ear, his voice low and deep: "Didn't you think the sights in the alley were interesting?"
Sang Li suddenly reached out and grabbed his chest: "Get away."
Chi Du smiled faintly, but his hand didn't loosen its grip at all: "Still talking big?"
"I'm not going to say anything more."
Chi Du released her: "Okay."
Those two short words, like scorching hot nails, struck down, pinning the air shut.
Sang Li thought she could finally breathe a sigh of relief, but for some reason, a heat rose from her neck to the tips of her ears. She looked away in annoyance, but her cheeks were already gradually turning red. Chi Du leaned down, his lips almost brushing against her earlobe, his voice hoarse like sand being crushed: "I want to get revenge on you."
Before the words were even finished, a warm, damp sensation clung to me.
Sang Li's breathing became erratic, her shoulders and back stiffened instantly, but her fingertips curled uncontrollably. She suddenly rolled over and ran off the bed like a rabbit: "Stop it, stop it."
Chi Du didn't really intend to do anything; he simply wanted to get revenge.
His eyes were deep and thoughtful: "Alright."
Sang Li felt that Chi Du was blatantly provoking her, so she snorted and pointed to her chest: "I have plenty of ways to make you suffer."
"so what?"
"My self-control is terrifyingly strong. Even if you were to dance and take off your clothes right in front of me, I wouldn't even glance at you."
Chi Du chuckled softly, "Alright."
He propped himself up, and although he hadn't done anything yet, he looked like he wanted more.
There was none of the embarrassment and resentment one might feel in a back alley.
Sang Li felt a tightness in her chest, and said angrily, "I'm going to use my brain!"
"Alright." Chi Du stood up, walked up to her, and traced his fingertips along her chin, making her hair stand on end. "Say something nice, and I'll let you off the hook for now."
He speaks as if he has the initiative.
However, Sang Li felt that it really was him.
I should have known better than to be a master of words.
She actually really liked the way Chi Du gazed at her. When he only had eyes for her, it seemed like she had the whole world. Her heart would gradually beat faster, and her body would start to heat up. Perhaps this was the effect of the mark.
Chi Du waited patiently for the answer.
Sang Li could almost hear her own heartbeat pounding against her eardrums.
She swallowed hard and looked at the mark.
My mind rummaged through lines from otome games I'd played before—they were bizarre and fantastical, but not a single one was applicable.
I can't exactly call him "husband," can I?
No, that's impossible.
I can't bring myself to say it.
What nice things should I say?
Chi Du's eyes grew increasingly dangerous, like a beast waiting for its prey to submit.
“Chidu,” she thought for a moment.
He leaned down, his thin lips brushing against her earlobe, coldly cutting her off: "Don't listen to this."
His fingers traced her earlobe.
Sang Li's eyes welled up with tears, and she couldn't find the words to coax a man, given her pitifully small vocabulary. But if she didn't say anything, she felt that Chi Du would definitely not let her off the hook today. She didn't know what had gotten into her; perhaps this was what romance was all about.
final.
"……elder brother."
The moment the words left his mouth, Chi Du's Adam's apple bobbed, and the darkness in his eyes deepened. His lips, however, slowly curved into a smile, a ruthless satisfaction in them.
The air was deathly still for a few seconds.
Chi Du stared at her, about to say "Good girl", when Sang Li giggled the next second.
"Big brother."
"elder brother."
"elder brother."
"brother."
"We're brothers today, don't covet your brothers."
Ike Watari: "..."
Sang Li: "Do you like hearing me call you 'brother'? Brother, brother, brother, hehehehehe?"
Ike Watari: "Use your brain."
He's had enough.
The bed still bore the marks of being crumpled.
Finally satisfied, Sang Li pulled the bag to her side and unfolded the papers one by one.
The ink had turned yellow, so clear it sent a chill down my spine.
The first line begins with her own handwriting.
The letter was devoid of unnecessary embellishment, proceeding directly with a cold and detached statement.
Project 777 originated in the early 21st century.
The goal is to reshape the form of warfare and create "controllable humanity."
[Individual strength, unconditional loyalty, and the ability to manipulate or deepen emotions and memories.]
The program originally comprised more than ten sub-projects, most of which were discontinued due to failures, leaks, or ethical censorship.
Only the following two remain to be continued and put into actual testing:
First, [inducing agents]
Successful Project: BEAM-071
Second, [clones]
Using an individual as a genetic template, highly realistic clones are created.
Currently, there is only one surviving individual with full capacity for action, named Lu Jin.
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