The elevator started operating again. The air was thick with a repugnant odor.
Xia Tian kept his head down, his gaze fixed on a spot on his pant leg. Bai Jingan followed Xia Tian’s line of sight and noticed some suspicious slimy substance clinging to Xia Tian’s pants. A sickening realization dawned on him—it was someone’s semen.
Xia Tian stared at it for a few seconds, then he lunged for a tablecloth from the coffee table, which he used to furiously wipe his pants. Feeling it was still unclean, he picked up a bottle of rosé sparkling wine and doused the spot, his movements frantic in his attempt to remove the stain.
Bai Jingan yelled, “Xia Tian!”
Xia Tian spun around, his face a mask of conflicting emotions: tension, anger, and a raw pain. Words seemed to abandon Bai Jingan; he realized he didn’t know what to say to him.
He suddenly remembered the carefree Xia Tian who used to casually strip off his clothes in the arena. He recalled the time during the Commemorative Show when they had found some candies, and Xia Tian had sat in the car eating them, licking the sweetness off his fingers afterward. He had stared at Xia Tian for several seconds, and Xia Tian had blankly withdrawn his fingers… At that time, he’d thought, how could this guy be so dumb? Now, he missed those days dearly.
He hesitantly reached out, his hand softly patting Xia Tian’s shoulder.
As Xia Tian continued to look at him, Bai Jingan felt the tension in the man’s muscles, the heat of his body, and the rhythm of his breathing under his palm. Then, he realized he had indeed comforted Xia Tian, as the man gradually relaxed under his hand.
Xia Tian licked his lips and stared at him. There was something in his gaze… Bai Jingan quickly put his hand down.
Xia Tian flicked his eyes away, finally abandoning his frantic scrubbing but still casting a murderous glare at the stained fabric.
The elevator doors opened to reveal a reception room. A stark contrast to the debauchery they’d just left behind.
Above the hell of debauchery was an avant-garde living room, with a fireplace burning and a wall-sized wine cabinet. The two Killing Show stars walked in, taking in the sight of this luxurious garbage dump, which contained a mishmash of everything imaginable, like the site of a large-scale disaster.
Qiao Ge was sitting on the sofa with a wine glass in hand. When he saw them enter, he stood up and spread his arms.
In the words of those in the circle, Qiao Ge was a party animal.
His world had no night. He craved pleasure and thus endlessly indulged in drugs and sex, with work being part of the thrill.
He wore a black robe, but the belt was loose, revealing only a pair of briefs adorned with countless sequins, drawing the eye immediately to that area—and he was erect. His eyes had been temporarily genetically modified to a bright animal-like yellow.
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.
He wanted to give the two a hug, but Xia Tian’s expression was a chilling deterrent. It dared anyone who had the audacity to approach him with an unwelcome embrace to face a demise with a missing limb or two. Wisely, Qiao Ge stopped after a few steps, offering a tentative smile instead.
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“Ktlr lr ubbv klcf. Gbc’a rjs P vlvc’a kjgc sbe,” Hljb Xf rjlv jr tf qbegfv tlwrfio jcbatfg uijrr. Lf qblcafv ab atf rboj bqqbrlaf tlw, ufraeglcu obg atfw ab rla. “Tbe qgbyjyis vbc’a xcbk atja rbwfatlcu pera tjqqfcfv,” tf rjlv, rlqqlcu j uijrr bo qlcx mbmxajli. “Ktfgf’r jc fzagfwf tjmxfg ugbeq lc atf Xbv bo Qjg Kfwqif mjiifv ‘Pcolclaf Gfrmfca.’ Ktfs tlcafv ja rbwfatlcu lcrlvf atf afwqif pera cbk.”
The two stars listened expressionlessly. Xia Tian even started to obsessively rub his pant leg against the sofa again.
“They said they have a nano-interactive virus,” Qiao Ge continued. “It can alter the properties of the floating engine, making it…”
He whistled.
“Bang, crash down,” he said with a flair.
The duo still showed no expression. The firelight flickered in the dimly lit garbage dump and shadows danced, giving a sense of impending storm.
“It might not be true, even if it is, it would be hard to release it. But it indicates a trend,” Qiao Ge said. “The ‘rebels’ want to find a systematic way to destroy the floating city, which doesn’t help sales at all. Their excitement is fine; blowing up the floating engine means some lose, but many make money. But it’s not good to be too systematic.”
He leaned back on the sofa, picked up a plate of snacks, and said, “I want you to hold a press conference, slow down the pace, and drag this marketing campaign out a bit longer. There’s a draft…”
He called over the smart butler, instructing it to bring up the “New Rebel Manifesto” and send it to Xia Tian and Bai Jingan’s terminals.
The draft was sent immediately.
Bai Jingan lowered his head to read. The speech was emotionally stirring and earnest, not denying that the two of them were rebel leaders—clearly, they wanted to keep making money off this. It took a motivational route, saying that Upper City was everyone’s home and that they should all work together to protect it and continue living happily under the sun.
Xia Tian skimmed through the speech quickly, then let out a cold laugh.
“What if I refuse?” he said in a frigid tone.
Qiao Ge sighed dramatically. “I know you have this illusion that having many fans means you can start a revolution and go against the Upper City,” he said. “You even hid your sister.”
He shook his head, the flickering light casting shadows on his face and the luxurious room.
“This isn’t a revolution, Xia Tian,” he said. “It’s marketing, it’s life itself. Too much material wealth makes people empty, so we create fanaticism to help them spend money. There are no enemies. There never were.”
He sat on the sofa with his arms open, his sequined underwear glowing in the darkness.
“Go and read the speech, darling,” he said. “It’s just business; no need for violence. Once you’re no longer popular and the audience stops paying, the elites get bored, then they’ll give you a pardon and everyone will be happy.”
Xia Tian turned off his terminal. He glared coldly at Qiao Ge, his gun visible under his coat and his posture just as defiant.
“I won’t say it,” he declared.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Qiao Ge said, raising an eyebrow and smiling. “Alright, you’re a big star. I wouldn’t harm you; it’s too costly to destroy you. So I have to threaten you.”
He leaned forward, locked eyes with Xia Tian, and said, “If you don’t behave, your ‘Lil’ Bai’ will be in trouble.”
Xia Tian’s expression was murderous, with no intention of hiding it.
“Oh, what trouble could I possibly be in?” Bai Jingan asked, his voice dripping with iciness.
Qiao Ge looked at him meaningfully.
Bai Jingan could feel himself take two deep breaths to control his rising emotions. He was about to drop a bomb.
“Your trouble is,” Qiao Ge said, “once your crimes are exposed, no one in the Upper City can protect you. Sure, they sunk one Death Penalty Entertainment Park, but there are still 320 private unlicensed ones left in the Upper City. By sinking it, you let everyone have their fun for a while…”
He paused, staring at Bai Jingan, then chuckled. Bai Jingan felt a chill run down his spine from Qiao Ge’s laughter.
“But that wouldn’t be good. The hype can’t keep escalating; it would ruin the maximum profit margin,” Qiao Ge continued, “Have you ever considered what might happen if this were to leak out, ‘Lil’ Bai’?”
He gave a big, excited smile that was a bit twisted.
“I’ve always thought you looked familiar,” he went on, “You have no idea how long it took me to dig up everything about you, ‘Lil’ Bai’. I’ve traced every purchase from your birth until now, and I found that the only things you bought between the ages of 12 and 15 were basic necessities. It’s obvious that you were just trying to pass municipal inspections. I bet you weren’t even in the Upper City then. At that time, I thought that whether you had gone back to your hometown or not, I had to hype it up like this: ‘The first rebel in the Upper City.’ How exciting.”
He laughed again, his mouth stretching unnaturally wide, resembling a creature emerging from the darkness beneath the flickering light.
“Then two days ago, I found your area’s experimental vaccine records.”
Bai Jingan looked at him distrustfully, unsure of how this connected to what he was about to say.
Major companies in the floating city often contacted the local government for charity activities, which were actually drug experiments with a higher level of safety. If you wanted to check the vaccines that people in the floating city had been vaccinated with, or the experimental therapies that had been carried out, you would get a very complicated and inscrutable document.
“During the massacre in Zone N, there were indeed bacteria-carrying organisms that reached the ground. Your claim of being bitten by a rat holds water,” Qiao Ge said. “Except that you have been vaccinated with the ‘Unified IX’ vaccine of Starmount Studio, which makes you 50% immune to the related products of the studio, including Type 17-3.”
Bai Jingan looked uncertainly at the records Qiao Ge slid over, then realized it was true. He had never thought to check the specific scope of his immunity before; it seemed pointless.
He had indeed been to Lower City and been part of the rebel core team, but he had also genuinely been infected with the Type 17-3 virus… This didn’t make sense.
“This makes absolutely no sense,” Qiao Ge said. “I’ve considered all possibilities, and in the end, I’ve come to a conclusion.”
He fixed his gaze at them. Although he was dressed in an outrageous and ludicrous attire, his expression was serious. His eyes sparkled, a fiery flame of ecstasy burning within him.
The two Killing Show contestants also leveled a gaze at him.
“You are not Bai Jingan at all,” Qiao Ge declared.
Qiao Ge looked at him, his fists bunching so tight his knuckles turned white. They were in a fucking garbage dump of a place, but he acted as if it were the setting for an epic plotline and his words were making everything come true.
Making fantasies, dreams, and ideals come true.
He said, “In the end, you did get to see the sunlight, Bai Lin.”
