Ains South East District

He Ao lifted his head, looking at the dilapidated old building before him.

Its windows had been completely removed, leaving behind empty, lonely cavities covered by some worn plastic sheeting.

The support columns holding up the old building were riddled with decayed pits, exposing the corroded rebar inside.

The facade that once adorned the building’s exterior had long fallen off, leaving just some mottled traces hinting at the building’s past splendor.

A massive rusted iron door was locked at the entrance of the building’s first floor, but the connection between the right side of the iron door and the wall had been completely torn open, leaving an empty gap and a door swinging without support.

Bright sunlight poured down from the sky, but was mostly obscured by the towering skyscraper nearby, leaving only a few weak rays piercing into the darkness of the old building through the open gap.

Yet the light only reached a short distance beyond the door; the depths remained shrouded in silent darkness.

Ains had many such old buildings, most constructed during and after the era of Federation’s fifth-century President Seville and his subsequent presidents.

For the past three centuries, these old buildings had been patched up over and over, barely sustaining their function, inhabited by people unable to move away.

But some buildings, due to various reasons, ended up completely abandoned, with no one left to maintain them, leaving behind decayed, punctured bodies.

The building now facing He Ao was one such old building.

This very building was where Erian and his friends had been living in Ains, and ultimately, where they met their demise.

Buzz——

He Ao raised his wrist and glanced at the information on his bracelet.

An anonymous contact was displayed in the address book, the message from this contact was simple.

[Captain, I have left as planned.]

This was Hawke’s trusted subordinate, the officer arranged to investigate Erian’s whereabouts in Ains.

The first step He Ao took in Ains was finding him hiding in a residential area near the city gate, from whom he got the address of this building.

He Ao lowered his head, gazing at the open doorway ahead, watching the darkness where even sunlight halted, slowly lifted his foot, and stepped inside.

In the darkness, slight sounds of movement emerged, seemingly shuffling footsteps.

As he fully stepped from sunlight into darkness, within the shadow cast by daylight, perplexed, wary and confused eyes appeared in He Ao’s field of view, 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

they were the vagabonds living in this building.

They sat on slightly dirty mattresses or pulled open a flap from red-and-yellow tents, gazing at He Ao, the intruder.

In this entry hall, somewhat wide, long lines crisscrossed to segment the space, with clothes hanging on these lines.

Here were the elderly, children, and middle-aged people.

The middle-aged mostly wore simple casual clothes, and alongside them hung a slightly decent formal suit; seeing He Ao enter, these people instinctively leaned toward the suit, slightly shielding it with their bodies.

"Old gentleman, what brings you here?" From the crowd, a slightly higher-status elderly man, with white hair and beard, lifted his head to look at He Ao, asking softly.

This elder, judging from his bone structure and physique, was likely in his fifties or sixties, but appeared even older than Hawke, who was over eighty.

"My child stayed here once," He Ao said calmly, "He should be on the fifteenth floor."

After hearing this, the whole crowd froze slightly, those watching He Ao exchanged puzzled glances.

The speaking elder hesitated a bit, then lifted his hand, pointing right and back, "The elevator here broke down long ago. If you want to reach the fifteenth floor, there’s a staircase fit for emergencies."

"Thank you." He Ao nodded slightly, swiftly moved through the crowd, headed into the stairwell.

The directing elder merely withdrew his gaze, turning around, to discover surrounding gazes falling upon him — each seemed eager to speak, but ultimately remained silent.

Seeing this, the elder merely twitched his lips slightly, finally letting out a soft sigh.

······

Inside the stairwell, He Ao directly looked up at the railing already decaying, leapt lightly, gliding through the stairwell’s hollows, landed upon the fifteenth-floor stairs.

He slightly lifted his gaze, glanced around, arriving at this landing’s entrance faint traces of blood began to permeate subtly in the vicinity.

In He Ao’s field of view, the keen transcendent alert net still stretched within surrounding voids, and was noticeably more active and sensitive than previously observed.

Evidently, this alert net had switched to a ’heightened alert’ mode.

Though it seemed somewhat uncanny, He Ao sensed these nets within the city were weaker than those near city walls.

Retrieving his gaze, He Ao passed through the stairwell’s doorway, already sans entrance doors, to enter the fifteenth floor of the building.

In contrast with the entrance hall, the fifteenth floor was a narrow corridor, its sides covered by curtains or exposing doorless hollow rooms.

This low-rise design of the fifth-century was such — somewhat cramped and compact — sacrificing comfort for residency.

He Ao passed along the corridor, stopping before the fifth door on the left.

This door originally had curtains, but they were violently torn down, leaving only a third of the door covered, stained with bright red blood.

He Ao lifted the curtain and entered the room.

Contrasting the narrow corridor, the room was not a single-room apartment but a two-bedroom suite.

Entering first was a slightly spacious living room, which housed two iron beds of differing heights, an iron table resembling a bench, and several iron stools.

At this moment, both table and stools lay overturned on the floor, stained with vivid red blood.

Besides the table and stools, the filthy floor, old walls, rusted iron framed beds bore extensive blood stains.

As though splattered blood washed the room like torrential rain, every corner tainting the air with a faint metallic tang.

On the floor were streaks of blood tracing boot prints — evidently the remains had been dragged, leaving tracks behind.

Scattered within the pool were bullet casings, indicating what transpired was not murder, but a blatant massacre.

He Ao’s gaze swept the bloodstained living room; he passed through, moving to a room deeper within.

However, upon entering the room, He Ao did not see blood stains first, but a figure seated on a deeper iron frame bed.

A youth, hair dry, slightly yellowed and gaunt, sat on the iron bed, his sunken eyes staring intently at He Ao.

He Ao stepped slightly forward; the eyes followed his movement, slightly shifting with He Ao’s steps.

Yet the youth remained motionless, silent, merely maintaining his unwavering stare at He Ao.

He Ao glanced at the young man but didn’t initiate a conversation with him. Instead, he scanned the room’s decor.

The room housed a slightly wider iron bed, where the young man was currently sitting.

Some red bloodstains marked the bed’s iron railing, but the bed’s surface remained spotless.

The high and low iron beds in the living room bore similar marks.

There must have been bedding on the bed once, where the bloodstains adhered, but it was removed afterwards.

Beside the iron bed in this room, there was an iron cabinet.

The cabinet bore bloodstains as well, with its drawer and door pulled open, revealing an empty inside.

He Ao walked up to the cabinet, quietly gazing at its door.

At this moment, his body was almost in front of the thin young man.

"What are you looking for?" the thin young man asked, his eyes fixed on He Ao.

His voice was low, with a straightforward bluntness.

"Do you know Erian?" He Ao turned his head, looking at the thin young man.

"Who are you? What do you want?" The young man’s head, which had been still, finally tilted slightly, looking at He Ao.

"I’m his father." He Ao said calmly.

This statement seemed to momentarily stall the thin young man’s mind. He raised his gaze a bit to look at He Ao, and his eyes moved up and down, seemingly assessing him.

Eventually, he lowered his head. "Not quite like it."

"I was fifty-three when I had him." He Ao said calmly.

The thin young man looked up again at He Ao, slightly surprised, "You can have children at fifty-three?"

"For men, it’s possible." He Ao replied calmly.

The thin young man glanced at He Ao, seemingly evaluating his facial features, then lowered his head and insinuated, "You’re really Erian’s father? Do you know his birthday?"

"June 9th," He Ao said calmly, "733, June 9th. His birthday is coming soon."

The thin young man looked at He Ao and paused for a moment, "Seems plausible."

"You don’t know his birthday?" He Ao lowered his head, looking at him, a slight doubt in his gaze.

"I can tell if you’re lying," he paused for a moment, glancing behind He Ao, "Did you come alone? You here by yourself, such an old man? No other sons came to help you?"

"I have only one child." He Ao said calmly.

This statement brought another pause for the young man. He looked at the bloodstains on the floor, hesitated for a moment, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a scroll, handing it to He Ao, "This is something Erian left behind. I didn’t grab his daily items, just this, which seems like a high-end item, should be worth lots of money."

He Ao took the scroll and glanced at the mark on it, "This is an electronic photo album."

At the base of the scroll, there was an engraving, with artistic text saying, ’For dear Erian, hoping it can preserve your moments’.

"Oh," the thin young man nodded slightly, "I can’t read, is it something important?"

He Ao gently raised his hand, pressing a button on the scroll, a transparent screen lit up, showing a password entry interface.

He Ao first entered Erian’s birthday, verification failed.

He then entered Hawke’s, and verification failed again.

Then he paused for a moment and entered 0825.

With a flash of light, the screen successfully unlocked.

This was Hawke’s wife’s birthday.

After unlocking, a group photo appeared.

The photo showed a slightly dark-skinned, slender woman, her hand on the shoulder of an eleven or twelve-year-old boy in front, leaning forward, smiling at the camera, and a serious-looking man, with slightly furrowed brows, stood on the other side, also looking at the camera.

This was a photo taken just before Hawke’s wife passed away, with Hawke and Erian.

"This is a gift," He Ao paused, "My wife once gave Erian as a birthday gift."

The thin young man glanced at the man in the photo, then at He Ao, "Seems you really are his father."

As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and felt for a small medicine bottle.

He turned his gaze to verify no one else was coming in before handing it to He Ao, "This was from Erian to me, very effective. I was coughing to the point of dying, but this cured me."

His fingers paused slightly, "Now you’ve lost your child and are getting old, it should be yours."

He Ao glanced at the medicine bottle, with the emblem of Qiming Hospital printed on it; it was antibiotics.

"No need, I have plenty of this, I don’t need it." He Ao shook his head, not taking the bottle.

Hearing this, the thin young man was slightly stunned, "Are you a doctor?"

"No," He Ao shook his head, looking at the thin young man, he slowly said, "Did Erian giving you this medicine make you stay here watching over his things?"

"Not always here," the thin young man shook his head, "I only come when I have time off."

He glanced at the medicine bottle in his hand and then put it back into his pocket, "If you have plenty, I’ll keep it myself."

With that, he didn’t speak anymore, seemingly having completed a task, but not finding something else to do, he lowered his head, staring at the floor in a daze.

He Ao also didn’t communicate further with him but opened the electronic photo album in his hand, looking into its contents.

After peeling away the cover photo, it entered a photo list, seemingly various landscape photos.

These photos seemed selectively chosen by Erian, without featuring any middle school or childhood scenes.

He Ao opened the earliest photo.

It was of a gigantic mining machine, snow-capped mountains extending endlessly, with snow covering the mining machine as well.

Beneath this machine, Erian and a group of robust men and women sat together, holding distilled strong alcohol, gathered around a large bonfire, with barbecue roasting beside, seemingly singing.

He Ao gazed into the depths of this snowy scene, where a flag fluttered faintly.

The flag bore the logo of the Miners’ Mutual Aid Association of Rock City.