LRAB Chapter 19 Cooperation
Chapter 19 Cooperation
Early morning, entrance to the parking lot on the east side of the Municipal Children's Hospital.
The morning mist hadn't yet dissipated, and the glow of the streetlights spread out in the damp air. Li Wan stood at the edge of the glow, her face pale from staying up all night, but her eyes were clear and sharp. She glanced at the time on her phone—Monday, 4:45 AM. The sounds of sanitation trucks could already be heard in the distance; the city was awakening. Seeing that she hadn't met the person she expected, she prepared to leave and go home to prepare for her early morning classes.
Just as she took a slight step, a voice came from the shadows not far to her side. It was steady and clear, showing little sign of fatigue, and even carrying a hint of... the languor of someone who had just woken up.
"Good morning, Teacher Li. What a refined pastime, contemplating life in the hospital parking lot early Monday morning?"
Li Wan turned around abruptly, her movements swift but not flustered. Her gaze immediately locked onto the source of the sound—a figure slowly emerging from behind a row of cars.
It's Cheng Song.
Li Wan's pupils contracted slightly.
No, compared to when we were downstairs in the inpatient department last night, Cheng Song's condition is surprisingly good.
He was wearing a dark coat similar in style to the one he wore on his blind date yesterday; it was clean, without any obvious bloodstains or dust. His left arm hung naturally at his side, not in a sling. There was no bandage on his forehead. He stood there relaxed, and apart from his face appearing slightly paler than usual under the streetlights, there were almost no signs of serious injury. If it weren't for those eyes, still deep and scrutinizing, now tinged with a hint of keen observation, Li Wan would almost doubt whether her memory was playing tricks on her, or whether the person in front of her was someone else in disguise.
Her professional knowledge and keen observation flashed through her mind. A broken arm, multiple severe lacerations, that level of blood loss… even with the highest-level surgery and subsequent extraordinary rehabilitation treatment, it would be impossible to recover to the point of being able to stand and walk so freely in just a few hours. Either his injuries last night were faked, or… he possessed rehabilitation techniques far beyond the current level of medicine.
"Officer Cheng, good morning." Li Wan's voice remained calm, suppressing the turmoil in her heart. "It seems you have a rather unique understanding of refined tastes. Also, your recovery speed is quite impressive."
Cheng Song took a few steps closer, stopping at a comfortable social distance for both of them. He casually rotated his left wrist, the movement fluid and natural. "Oh, this? I was lucky to run into a night shift miracle doctor, a family secret recipe, remarkably effective," he said casually, as if he'd only caught a minor cold. "But Professor Li's observation skills are truly excellent, no wonder you're a professional. So, considering I survived this ordeal and even got up early to see you, can we skip the pleasantries and get straight to business? After all..." He glanced at the sky, "the flowers of our motherland can't wait for a late gardener."
Li Wan took a deep breath; the chilly early morning air made her mind even clearer. "Of course. I was waiting for you here hoping for an explanation, and also... I was thinking of helping you treat your injuries, but it seems you don't need it."
"Thank you for your concern, Teacher Li." Cheng Song nodded, his expression becoming slightly more serious, but the lazy tone remained. "To put it simply, you accidentally witnessed... well, I should say, a special waste disposal site last night. The things being disposed of belong to a cult called the Decay Cult. They're dangerous; they like to cause pollution and destruction. As for me, I'm one of the cleaners who specialize in dealing with this kind of 'waste.' You probably saw that person in all white who appeared at the end last night. They might be a colleague, or something else; their purpose is unclear, but for now, they shouldn't be considered enemies."
His explanation was extremely brief, and his wording deliberately vague, but the core information was conveyed. A corrupt cult, a hostile target. He, the one who dealt with it. The man in white, an unidentified third party.
"As for the risks," Cheng Song continued, his gaze falling on Li Wan's face with a businesslike scrutiny, "you saw things you shouldn't have seen, and you know things you shouldn't have known. For you personally, the risk level has risen from 'a completely ignorant and safe citizen' to 'a potential source of information leakage.' For that cult, a paranormal enthusiast who witnessed their actions and may even have recorded certain characteristics has some 'dealing' value, although the priority won't be very high."
"So?" Li Wan pressed, her heart tightening slightly.
"So, here are two options for you, which can be considered 'after-sales service' for what you did last night... uh, objectively speaking, you helped a little." Cheng Song held up two fingers. "Option A: Physical amnesia. I have a way to make it relatively gentle and painless, allowing you to reasonably forget last night's unpleasant experience and return to normal life. After that, as long as you don't actively seek out similar situations, given those guys' behavior, they probably won't bother a regular elementary school teacher like you. We can also agree on a unified explanation for our blind date: 'Incompatible personalities, peaceful goodbye,' a win-win situation for everyone."
"What about Option B?" Li Wan asked without hesitation, her gaze fixed on Cheng Song.
"Option B," Cheng Song lowered his hand, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Keep the memory, but sign a confidentiality agreement and accept the code of conduct. First, keep everything you saw and heard last night, as well as my existence, confidential from everyone. Second, cease any form of proactive investigation you are currently conducting into similar events. Your curiosity is like a light bulb in the dark to them—very conspicuous. If you continue to investigate in your own way, you're likely to become a target."
He paused, observing Li Wan's reaction. Seeing that she was simply listening quietly, he continued, "In exchange, you can retain your memories and continue using your mind to analyze and summarize the unusual events that interest you. When you discover any clues that you find valuable or suspicious in your research, you can tell me in a safe way. I will answer some fundamental questions about this field for you, letting you know exactly what your research subject is. And in the future, if I happen to learn any information that can be revealed related to your parents' accident, I might be able to give you a hint."
He offered a very practical exchange: she would cease her dangerous operations and provide logistical support; he would provide basic information and possible, distant leads.
Li Wan remained silent for a few seconds. She had never mentioned her parents to Cheng Song, yet he had brought it up so casually. A cool morning breeze blew by, and her mind raced. Option A seemed safe, but it meant giving up the investigation, and those countless days and nights of torment and questions would remain unanswered. Option B carried unknown risks, establishing an unstable connection with a dangerous and mysterious figure, but… this was the first time in five years that she had come so close to the edge of that real world.
"I choose B." Her voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear and firm.
Cheng Song didn't seem surprised, simply nodding. "A wise choice, or rather, an ambitious one. But I must add one point: based on our less-than-successful social experiment yesterday, I suggest that, at least with our matchmaker, Aunt Wang, we maintain the 'still getting to know each other' stance. This will provide a good cover for my identity. For you," he shrugged, "it might also reduce some unnecessary 'concern' and subsequent blind date arrangements, as an added bonus."
Li Wan paused for a moment, then realized the practicality of the suggestion. A reasonable, continuous, and low-frequency social connection could indeed provide excellent cover for their future secret contact. This didn't even require deliberate pretense; they were already "still in contact" as a blind date.
"A very practical suggestion, I agree." Li Wan nodded, then changed the subject, "So, as the starting point for cooperation, and also the basis for my judgment of information value, I need to understand a few basic concepts: corrupt sects, pollution, and the form of existence of 'cleaners' like you."
Her thinking was very clear: she directly asked Cheng Song for the basic elements needed to construct a cognition of the "real world".
Cheng Song didn't intend to hide these basic concepts. "The Decaying Cult is an illegal organization that originated from otherworldly worship and spreads 'corruption' energy. You can understand pollution as something that can cause malignant mutations in living and non-living things, or spiritual pollution; corruption is one type. As for people like us," he shrugged, "we don't have a collective name. We work independently or in small-scale collaborations to deal with these 'corruption' products, as well as other similar 'urban waste.' You can think of it as someone having to clean the sewers beneath the city's glamorous surface. That's what we do—it's not dignified, but it's necessary."
The explanation remained vague, but it outlined a basic structure: a cult that worshipped the corrupting power of another world, and a group of cleaners who dealt with the corruption. Li Wan processed this information and glanced at the time. "I need a secure, one-way communication method. And, the time for the first information exchange."
Upon hearing Li Wan's question, Cheng Song laughed instead: "Teacher Li, we're still getting to know each other as a blind date, not a spy rendezvous. Playing those fancy games would only seem suspicious."
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and casually waved it: "We can contact each other on WeChat. Didn't we add each other yesterday?"
Li Wan frowned: "It's too unsafe."
"It's safe to talk about blind dates." Cheng Song swiped open the screen and opened WeChat. "When we're talking about serious matters, we can use code words that even middle school students can understand. For example, if you want to meet me to chat, you can say, 'Aunt Wang asked about our progress, how about we take a call?' If you have something urgent, you can say, 'My boss has arranged another blind date for me.'"
He paused, then added, "If you really need to send files, use an encrypted compressed file, tell the password in person, or add something to the date we first met."
Li Wan thought quickly. Indeed, an overly complicated meeting method would only attract unnecessary attention and would be inconsistent with their social relationship as a blind date.
"Okay," she nodded. "And when and how will the initial information exchange take place?"
"Let's meet at 8 p.m. tonight," Cheng Song said. "I'll wait for you in the natural sciences section on the second floor of the bookstore called 'Between the Lines' next to the university, near the 'Basic Forensic Medicine' section. It's quiet there, and no one will notice two young people reading and talking."
"The bookstore..." Li Wan glanced at him, "What if you hadn't come?"
"Then contact me by phone. If you don't reply for more than three days..." Cheng Song put away his phone, "that means something has happened, and there's no need to continue this agreement."
He spoke casually, but his meaning was clear.
"Okay." Li Wan also took out her phone and quickly typed something, "See you tonight. Officer Cheng, be careful."
"You too, Teacher Li. Don't get distracted in class, or you'll get stumped by a primary school student's question." Cheng Song waved his hand and turned to leave.
Li Wan didn't linger and turned to walk quickly towards the parking lot exit.
Cheng Song stood there, watching her figure disappear, the relaxed and casual expression on his face slowly fading. He raised his hand to rub his temples; a slight, almost imperceptible tingling sensation came from the wound on his left arm—proof that the Black Jade Rejuvenating Ointment was still working its last bit of effect. The medicine given by Boss Rong was indeed miraculous, but the consumption of spirit crystals was also substantial.
"It's Monday already. The poor working class has to go back to work again," he muttered to himself, turning and walking in another direction. It was still early; he didn't need to rush to work. He planned to find a place to catch up on some sleep.
As for that descent ceremony... he glanced in the direction of Spirit Street, the news of the white-robed man buying out the intelligence still ringing in his ears.
"Let the rich tycoons and impatient lunatics try it out first." He muttered to himself with a hint of helplessness.
Cheng Song dragged his tired but mostly recovered body back home. He quietly opened the door; the living room was pitch black, and he could hear even breathing coming from his parents' room. He breathed a sigh of relief, slipped into his small but entirely his bedroom, and gently locked the door behind him.
Without turning on the lights, he sat down on the edge of the bed, relying on the dim light streaming in from the window. The cooperative relationship he had established with Li Wan in the early hours of the morning, the white-robed man, the initiation ritual of the corrupt cult… a multitude of thoughts swirled in his mind. But at this moment, he subconsciously turned his attention to his internal body.
He tried to "feel" the presence deep within his body, almost integrated with his life—the Blacklight virus.
As his consciousness sank in, what returned was a deep, languid, and immense feeling of fullness. He could clearly sense that cold, chaotic, and immense collective power, filled with a devouring desire. At this moment, it was like a giant python that had swallowed an entire cow, coiled in the deepest part of its lair, concentrating all its energy and functions on digesting this great undertaking, seemingly indifferent to all external stimuli, even too lazy to respond.
He tried to visualize channeling a wisp of viral energy to his fingertips, but there was no response. Even the chaotic and mixed auras belonging to the Gardeners, the essence of the Mother Nest, and the remnants of the Titans that he could occasionally sense before were now more deeply enveloped and refined, almost imperceptible.
Cheng Song lowered his hand, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside him.
He actually started to miss the feeling of this thing being active.
The thought seemed absurd to him. The Blacklight virus was the source of all his abnormalities and troubles, a time bomb lurking within his body, the culprit that had made him "inhuman." He should be wary of it, guard against it, and even find a way to get rid of it.
But undeniably, in those life-or-death moments in the past, it was this violent, greedy, and uncontrollable force that kept him alive time and time again. The claws and hammer that could change at will, the ability to devour enemies to replenish himself, the healing speed far beyond that of ordinary people... these simple, brutal, yet incredibly useful abilities brought about by the virus have become part of his fighting instincts and his greatest asset as a "scavenger".
Now, the virus is "full" and asleep. He's like a top-notch fighter suddenly disarmed. Although his basic physical abilities are still there, he's lost his most reliable, violent, and versatile tool for dealing with all sorts of bizarre situations. Faced with unknown dangers, he has to rely more on his fighting skills and the "Thousand Forms" and "Lens" that he's just acquired and isn't yet familiar with.
"Tsk... It's true what they say, it's easy to go from frugality to extravagance, but hard to go from extravagance to frugality," Cheng Song muttered to himself with a self-deprecating laugh. Having gotten used to the exhilarating feeling of tearing apart Japanese soldiers with his bare hands, the sudden shift back to a more technical approach was quite unsettling, even... making him feel insecure.
He knew this longing was dangerous, a sign of over-reliance on external forces. The virus's dormancy might be a good thing, at least significantly reducing the risk of it spiraling out of control in the short term. Moreover, the genetic anchors were also playing a role, making this deep digestion process smoother. He should take this opportunity to hone his fundamentals and skills, and familiarize himself with the new equipment, rather than yearning for that uncontrolled, violent power.
But rational as he was, emotionally, in the quiet of the night, facing the upcoming, potentially unknown trip to the western suburbs alone, he couldn't help but hope—hope that this damned virus would be digested quickly and he would wake up.
At the very least, it means he has another trump card up his sleeve that can turn the tables.
Thinking this, Cheng Song, who had been working hard all night, fell into a deep sleep.