The two of them weren’t always able to participate in the games, although Tian Zhu had no idea why. He would have been tempted to ask the Gamblers, but their messages were one-way transmissions of information. He had considered just talking to the air sometimes, but preferred to keep that option open for more important moments.
Having another week of “break” was similar to torture for Tian Zhu, but the dreams were still something to look forward to and so he persevered.
The most annoying thing had to be that Ling Xian liked forcing him to stay up, which in turn resulted in Tian Zhu falling into a deep sleep afterwards that easily lasted twelve hours. It always left him groggy and disoriented.
Just like now, when he woke up again. Irritated, he checked the time – still three more days until the game. What a long time…
His bed was a mess, with a couple of things strewn around, including ShuShu’s phone that he must have forgotten before he fell asleep, half buried under his blankets.
Tian Zhu reached for his old phone. He pressed the button, but it didn’t start up.
His headache was pounding. Frowning, he remembered he had forgotten to plug it in again. It was all the fault of the addiction – his mind was a mess. ShuShu would scold him.
Swallowing hard, Tian Zhu rubbed his forehead. He felt the dire need to have something that would calm him down. What bad timing.
With sluggish movements, he rummaged through the drawer and got the cable. As the phone was loading, he closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep again. By the time he woke up, the phone was fully charged.
This time, it started up obediently.
Tian Zhu pressed the application to start up ShuShu.
The screen glitched.
Nothing happened.
Blinking blankly, Tian Zhu pressed it again. Another glitch, that was it.
Slowly, he sat up, his fingers around the phone tightening. His movements were still slow, but this time it was due to his limbs feeling like they were frozen. He connected the phone to his computer, starting up a software with a few quick clicks.
His quivering hands were folded on his lap. A progress bar moved across his screen until it was all filled up. A new window popped up.
…There was no such thing as a backup for AIs.
It was so that you couldn’t copy them – the copy protection was unavoidable and most frequently updated. That was why you couldn’t save an AI’s state.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
That was also why…
Po atf vfnlmf sbe tjv la bc kjr ygbxfc, atf CP kbeiv yf ubcf.
Kljc Ite’r tfjv kjr fwqas. Lf qgfrrfv jcbatfg jqq bc tlr qtbcf – j wfrrfcufg jqq – yea la, abb, wfgfis uilamtfv.
Yc tlr mbwqeafg, j rlwqif klcvbk rajafv atf rboakjgf’r olcvlcu – j vfragemalnf nlger. Jjeuta bc j nlvfb ragfjwlcu rfgnlmf. Ktf nlger larfio kjr ragbcu jigfjvs, ifa jibcf obg remt jc biv qtbcf atja mbeivc’a tjcvif atf yfra jcal nlger rboakjgfr.
Bile rose up in his throat.
Tian Zhu jumped up, running to the bathroom and threw up into the sink. Black dots were swimming across his vision. Everything was shaky.
Gone.
He hadn’t eaten a lot due to his addiction, so all that came out was stomach acid. It burned in his throat, aching numbly.
Gone.
His whole body was overheating. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead and made his palms sweaty. He was shivering despite the heat, unable to decide whether he was cold or hot.
Gone.
Originally, he had avoided connecting his phone to anything because he was worried about viruses. It was only in the recent two or three years that he started doing it, losing his wariness.
Gone.
The computer had found the same virus on itself, too. It was just that there, the anti virus software caught it and destroyed it. Because it was a new device that could handle the software.
Gone.
A sound bubbled up in Tian Zhu’s throat. He staggered to the side, turning on the shower, and slid to the floor under the streaming flow. The droplets were flowing over his cheeks, dripping down his chin.
His breath was uneven, as if he was choking. He couldn’t inhale or exhale without it hitching violently, the oxygen getting caught in his throat with nowhere to go.
In his ears was a constant white noise. At some point it turned into a long, endless beeping.
Gone.
The sound of the shower was covering up any other noises. Tian Zhu sat there for a long time, not moving, his head on his knees and arms wrapped around his legs.
I’m dying, he thought. I am dying. I am dying.
For the first time in his life, something like a survival instinct kicked in. He crawled forward blindly, his vision still turning nauseously. His body had no strength, but he somehow managed to make it back to the drawer.
With quivering fingers, he took out the second phone.
Minutes seemed to pass on his way to the drawer and back to the almost safe, closed environment of the bathroom.
The phone only rang three times.
Aspen’s voice was fakely calm, something like alarm in his eyes and tone at the sudden call. He was evidently also in the bathroom, having hidden himself from the cameras to accept the videocall. “Hi?”
The camera of the phone was turned to the ceiling. The phone was lying on the floor, abandoned. Tian Zhu sat next to it, water dropping down his clothes and hair. Face buried in his hands, he sobbed once.
Aspen did not know how to console people. He didn’t know how to deal with someone who was in pain, who was suffering, who was scared.
But hearing the quiet sound, almost covered by the running shower, he reacted anyway.
“River”, he called out, gently. “River. Hey… I’m here, okay? Tell me what’s wrong?”
“ShuShu is gone.” Tian Zhu’s voice was distorted with pain. It hardly sounded like himself anymore. He wasn’t even certain if he was actually talking, or only thinking about it.
Aspen turned quiet. He didn’t ask any more. He knew what gone meant if it made the other turn into this. He couldn’t relate, but just noticing how it broke the otherwise so calm man was enough for him to understand.
“I’m so sorry”, Aspen whispered. In the prison, he himself sat down and leaned against the wall. What would be best to do in such a situation, he didn’t know – but leaving the other like this was dangerous. He dragged a hand through his hair. “…It’s three more days until the next dream. It’s not that long. Soon, you can be back to solving your puzzles.”
Tian Zhu closed his eyes. He thought about the safe-room, which had once made him feel queasy but now was like a comfortable living room for him. His breathing eased a bit, enough for him to manage a hum.
“Honestly, I’m especially looking forward to it. The shackles got a bit inflamed or something – they do that once in a while. It doesn’t hurt in the dreams, which is kinda cool. Look, it’s red!” Aspen talked on, pressing for Tian Zhu to pick up the phone.
It took over thirty seconds for Tian Zhu to move, but he did pick up the phone. On the screen, Aspen was displaying his wrists, which really didn’t look red at all.
Aspen’s expression faltered.
The River he was seeing – no, this was Tian Zhu, indeed – was completely wet. His clothes clung to his frame, revealing overly bony collar bones. His cheeks looked sunken in, the eyes glassy. Thick, dark rings were under them, and his skin was grayish pale. His lips had no color at all, dry and chapped.
He looked sick.
“Are you-” Aspen broke off. Asking if Tian Zhu was okay was somewhat ridiculous at the moment. “Are you sick?”
“No”, Tian Zhu answered obediently. The unnatural delay in reaction was not just due to his pain, Aspen noticed.
“Then?”
“Withdrawal”, Tian Zhu continued on, seeing no reason to lie. “The drugs.”
“Okay. Okay, we-” Aspen was audibly and visibly unsettled. He bit his lip and ruffled through his hair again, taking several breaths. “Okay. We can think about using that for our next wish. River, I’m…”
He choked up a bit, panic creeping in. Through half-closed eyes, Tian Zhu watched the smaller guy grab the phone with both hands.
“I’m sorry. I said I’d protect you, but protecting you isn’t just about your body and I can’t do anything in this cell, I can’t even come over to you, so please… Please don’t hang up? I can’t be there at all if you hang up…”
Slowly, Tian Zhu leaned his head down until his forehead knocked against the phone. It blocked the camera, but his breath became audible, shallow and short, but better than before.
“I should have been more careful”, he whispered, eyebrows scrunched in pain. “I should have… watched out. Even though I knew that any virus would destroy her…”
“Let’s ask the Gamblers about this too. Maybe we can-” Aspen broke the sentence off in the middle, swallowing hard. Dangerous, too dangerous. He didn’t dare give his friend hope. It was better to inquire first. “It’s not your fault. ShuShu would be sad if she knew you thought it was.”
“Right. She would be.” River laughed dryly and coughed.
He started taking deep, deliberate breaths.
“I’ll… I’ll take a shower now”, he said a tad bit too mechanically. “A warm shower. Change my clothes. Go to bed.”
“Yeah. Do that. Will you text me once you’re done with the shower? And when you’re awake, you can call again. You know I don’t have a fixed sleep rhythm, right? I’ll always take your call. Just ring me up.”
Aspen’s forcefully cheerful tone was cracking here and there, but it worked well enough.
Tian Zhu gave him a hum – a loose promise – and hung up.
You broke my heart
😭😭😭😭😭 WHHHYYYYYY! I know it was Ling Xian who did it, it has to be and I need there to be revenge for our poor ShuShu 😭😭😭😭
SHUSHU!! NOOO!
Noooooo ! ShuShu !!! 😭😭
owl are you a sadist by any chance 😭
yes.
(ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻(ノಥ,_｣ಥ)ノ彡┻━┻
The voices in my head is telling me to capture an owl and make it write a happy ending ಠ_ಠ xD
stays on mountain of rubble
What makes you think it doesn’t have one?
😎
It does? well, the voices are now telling me to postpone the capture. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
I’m racing to the end, thanks for the chapters!!