translator: loop
A good sentence, said through Sa’e Yang’s mouth, no matter how it sounded originally, would not be very serious. But Chu Si had known him too long and knew what he was really like. The more you reacted, the more interesting he found you, so it was best to act as if you didn’t hear anything, and not give him any emotional feedback. When Sa’e felt that things turned monotonous and boring, you would be fine.
In one sense, this method worked, because when it came to a guy like Sa’e Yang, who didn’t play his cards according to common sense, anything was good news as long as it didn’t make him crazier.
But in another sense, this method didn’t work—
After all, it had been more than 40 fucking years, and this psychopath Sa’e Yang still hadn’t started to feel bored.
Chu Si looked calm, and automatically removed those unnecessary words in his mind, leaving only the important points. He stared at the nearest screen, scanning its bright blue characters.
Those characters were by no means common information processing codes, otherwise, Chu Si would have been able to read all of them at a glance.
They were spread all over the screen in a strange combination that, at first glance, could make one’s brain buzz.
“It’s been encrypted.” Tang was also considered a capable person in this field, just not as experienced as one who came out of the Space Prison. “This isn’t what we often use.”
The training camp was under the Military Department in Chu Si’s time, so at that time, they had to learn all kinds of encryption methods that the Military Department might’ve come into contact with, whether they were commonly used or not, not a single one left behind.
Later the training camp was transferred to the Security Building, and what they learned was relatively limited. However, the most common and next most common methods of the military they still had to know.
When exposed to a lot of these kinds of missions, they were almost performed with a sixth sense.
What was on the screen in front of them looked more twisted than any of what they learned. Not to mention Tang and the others, even Chu Si was sure it was definitely not within the scope of the training camp’s or even the Military Department’s exposure.
“Like a variation of the spider code.” Tang rubbed the back of his head, finished his judgment with a serious face, and added with his mouth curled up, “Well, it’s just a wild guess.”
But these garbled code-like combinations didn’t stay on the screen for long, and were instantly refreshed almost as soon as they reached the end.
After about a dozen flashes, all those garbled combinations became normal, readable words:
Signal source capture successful
Signal source properties: double layer
First layer signal source: 86206-018
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.
Second layer signal source: 50001
Ugbmfrrlcu wfatbv: mifjg bg ibmx
Vfflcu atja atf jaaglyeaf kjr j vbeyif-ijsfg rlucji rbegmf, Jte Vl ecvfgrabbv. Ktf rb-mjiifv vbeyif-ijsfg jaaglyeaf wfjca atja j rlucji rbegmf qea bc j ijsfg bo ojxf rxlc ab ub bea ab yieoo jcv vfmflnf. Ktf rlucji rbegmf bc atf olgra ijsfg kjr atf ybvs, jcv atf rfmbcv ijsfg kjr atf rxlc.
“I just took a look at the trajectory of the signal source, it’s quite wonderful. Every time before setting off, it went around this old Fort Barney to disguise itself as 50001, and then left immediately.” Sa’e Yang explained, “Take this place as a transition point.”
“86206-018,” Chu Si muttered as he crossed his arms for a moment, “Looks familiar.”
But this was by no means a good sign. There were not many signal sources familiar to Chu Si. He either dealt with the military and the government or dealt with the Space Prison and various forces of chaos.
For a layer of signal source to be any one of them, this joy seemed a little too big.
Chu Si glanced toward Sa’e Yang and saw that he hadn’t moved, so he simply reached across him and hit a few keys.
The entire system lagged for a split second before a line popped up on the most central screen: “Loading 36th edition of the planet city map.”
Sa’e lowered his eyelids, his gaze sweeping across Chu Si’s hand, “Executive, you have long fingers.”
Chu Si didn’t bother to pay attention to him, and Sa’e didn’t say anything more. He just let go of his hands and lazily propped himself on the edge of the console. Chu Si casually crossed over to control the system under his nose.
A complicated version of the city’s miniature bird’s-eye-view map was loaded. After Chu Si pressed a few keys, he pressed his finger on one of them without letting go, and raised his chin at Sa’e Yang, “Excuse me. Please lift your finger and touch the start-up area.”
“Will touching it give me a credit?” Sa’e turned his head and asked.
Chu Si: “If you won’t touch it, get out of the way.”
Occupying the most crucial position of the console but not doing anything, he just had to play hard-to-get. Chu Si didn’t even know what he wanted out of it.
“Then I’d better choose to take a credit for it.” Sa’e Yang replied casually, his finger already touching the start-up area.
The screen once again popped up a prompt: Searching for a layer of signal source 86206-018.
“Is this system dumb? How come it doesn’t read out the prompts?” Le Pen muttered.
Tang whispered back from the side; “Did you forget? This system was just… um, you-know-who made it crazy, the electronic voice-over at the transport pad is in a mess, and now it’s in the automatic mute of disorder adjustment.”
In the past, such a search took a few seconds at most, but now, whether because Fort Barney was sealed for too long or something else, a full minute passed before the screen finally refined the map layer by layer and circled a corner in a certain neighborhood.
There was a small prompt box next to it, marking the time of the trace found: the year 5633.
“Beautiful job, found the source of the earliest traces. From 5633, about…” Sa’e Yang said, and moved his left hand to count seriously, “About an 80 to 100-year gap. Good luck, maybe you can even catch the other party right away.”
Chu Si: “…”
He stared at the street, and expressionlessly said to Sa’e next to him: “Shut up.”
Sa’e Yang let out a laugh.
5633, the year this signal source left its mark on this street, was really eighty years from the year the planet exploded, even 20 years older than Chu Si’s age. What Sa’e Yang said was extremely mocking, but so what? As long as he could find a trace, he was not afraid that he would not be able to find the imposter in the end.
Chu Si manipulated the system to zoom in on the circled block until he could see a small sign in the upper right corner of the area—
No. 7, Wutong Street, District A, Xixi City
Chu Si’s eyebrows instantly jumped: “The orphanage?”
If it was another address, Chu Si would have to search some more, but this place he would never forget.
Xixi City Orphanage, the place Chu Si had stayed for eight years since his birth.
Eight years, in a life span of more than two hundred, was actually no more than a short moment. But for those who had lived there, it was probably the longest and most difficult time in their life.
A series of negative problems such as Chu Si’s gloomy, irritable, and reticent childhood all sprouted in that orphanage.
The orphanage bore the name of “City Establishment”, and it was as complicated as the supervisory government in Xixi City, with multiple intertwined lines of interest. There were a lot of rumors about it in Xixi City alone. Some said that it was actually built with the support of a private consortium, and under the guise of an orphanage, it was actually doing other dark things. Some said that it was the product of a compromise between the government and the dark side of Xixi City, and that the military was mixed in there.
In short, its complex and not-too-bright background led to the orphanage environment also being complex and not-too-bright.
It was like a smaller version of Xixi City, the eye of hell, full of chaos and conflict, even if most of the people inside were children.
Anyone who came out of it would pile on all the darkness when describing it, without using even one positive word, or even a neutral one.
In Chu Si’s memory, perhaps because the environment was too depressing, most of the children there had severe headaches, and the doctor assigned to them said that it was not physiological, but the result of too much piling up of psychological extremes, such as anxiety, insomnia, mania, etc…
In the room where he used to live, there also lived a scrawny child who was one year older than him. Whenever he had a headache, he would curl up and hit his head against the metal railing at the head of the bed.
He had been listening to that “thump” sound every day since he could remember, for two and a half years, until the other party died.
The word “death” was all too common for the people there, as children died every day, from fights, from punishments, from illnesses…
Some tried to leave, but because of their young age or whatever, they were always brought back, no matter where they ran. It was like the orphanage had numerous pairs of eyes, knowing the movements of every child like the back of their hand.
The first time Chu Si met his adoptive father, Jiang Qi, was at the west side of the orphanage’s small white building.
The design of that building was a bit special. A slender metal column was constructed along the center line of the west wall of the building. If you snuck up to the roof of the building, and then slid along the metal column to the sixth floor, you could use a foot-wide horizontal board there to carefully walk to the neighboring building.
In the eyes of a seven or eight-year-old, this was already a very sophisticated escape route.
Chu Si climbed onto the rooftop late at night in the middle of winter that year. The nurses went to bed early and slept very deeply in winter, so there was an opportunity. It was very coincidental timing.
However, when he slid down the column and got on the long, slender board, he realized that there was a thin layer of ice frozen on the board.
Although he was extremely careful with every step, he still slipped off the board in the end. Thanks to his timely reaction, he tightly hooked onto the horizontal board with both hands, and just managed to hang on.
For an eight-year-old child, the situation was difficult and hopeless.
Fingers hooked in the cold metal board, bitingly cold and slippery.
He was six stories high between two buildings, stuck for a long time. Turning back was impossible, letting go was death.
Jiang Qi came to that alley at that time. Back then, he was just past his middle age, wearing a military shirt and trousers covered with a dark coat. The sensor lights in the alley had just been destroyed by a group of rioters, leaving only a row of small yellowish lights on the top of the alley wall, giving Jiang Qi a mild edge.
One of Chu Si’s hands had slipped at that time, and the ice fell on Jiang Qi’s body, which made him notice that there was actually a child hanging from above.
Jiang Qi seemed to be shocked at the time, or maybe he did not react much. Chu Si couldn’t remember clearly.
He only remembered that Jiang Qi tilted his head, clapped his hands, and then spread out his arms, saying: “How did a kid get to that kind of place? Come down first, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, you won’t die from the fall.”
Chu Si had never said a word in his eight years at the orphanage, so naturally, he would not open his mouth to answer Jiang Qi. He was even less eager to let go of his hand in the spirit of rejection of all strangers. But the slippery horizontal board did not wait for him.
Just as he gritted his teeth and tried to hesitate for a while longer, Jiang Qi added: “Oh yes, don’t flail your legs when you come down, lest you step on my face.”
Just as he finished, Chu Si’s hands slipped, his legs flailing all the way from six floors up.
Jiang Qi had footprints all over his face that day 😔
The villa, fort Barney, xixi city… they were all on the same planet before it exploded. Is that correct?
Yep!
5763-5633=130. why does it say 180 year gap
My mistake, it’s supposed to be ‘an 80 to 100-year gap’. And I believe Sa’e Yang is subtracting from the year the planet exploded (5713) rather than the current year (5763), which would be exactly 80 years. Thanks for catching that! 💖