Chapter 14: Bans

Chitra’s button eyes flashed once, as if issuing a command to the living building itself.

“Squeak-cluck! Follow the glowing guide strip on the floor. It will lead you to the nearest vacant Level D unit. Be careful. Don’t step on the pulsing meat veins; if you step on them too hard, they might contract and squeeze you.”

Sure enough, a faint, bioluminescent blue strip lit up on the floor where metal and flesh intertwined, winding its way deep into the interior.

“However, you must be careful not to speak of what you see or hear here. It might cause public panic.”

“Only after the personnel from the Public Relief Society’s Bathing City Branch have completed their investigation will parts of this ‘Eerie’ information be released to the public.”

“Let’s go!” He Jiulu said impatiently to Sui Luowen. She then manipulated the floating anomalies and Zhen Yuanzi to move quickly along the light strip.

Sui Luowen nodded silently, gripping Criticism tightly as she followed.

The inner walls of the passage alternated between being hard and cold and warm and soft. They could even feel a heartbeat-like vibration coming from deep within.

The researchers seemed used to it. They merely spared a curious glance at the charred He Jiulu and the floating anomalies before continuing their work.

At the end of the light strip was a massive gate that seemed to be a fusion of some kind of chitin and metal.

There were no visible handles or switches on the door, only a single orifice covered by a fleshy membrane that constantly contracted and expanded.

“Insert your hand or Dictator into that identification port,” Chitra’s voice echoed in their minds. “The branch will verify your Aishu identity and mission authorization.”

Without hesitation, He Jiulu thrust her carbonized left hand into the slimy membrane orifice. A slight stinging sensation followed, as if countless fine needles were collecting samples.

A few seconds later, the membrane contracted, and the massive gate slid silently to both sides, revealing an even more bizarre space within.

It was a cylindrical chamber. The inner walls were composed entirely of a translucent, writhing biological tissue, its surface covered in complex veins that emitted a ghostly glow.

A raised platform stood in the center of the room, surrounded by numerous fleshy tentacles covered in suction cups that currently hung limp.

The air held a near-absolute silence, as if even the groans of the living building outside were shut out.

“Place those ‘Ginseng Fruit’ anomalies on the central platform,” Chitra instructed. “Then step back.”

He Jiulu manipulated the heart-eating ginseng fruits—which had already reverted from human-shaped ginseng fruits into ordinary-looking ones. They were still twitching slightly, emitting shrill, miserable smiles as she placed them in the center of the platform.

Almost the instant the anomalies touched the platform, the drooping fleshy tentacles snapped upward like nimble snakes and coiled around them. The suction cups attached themselves firmly to the anomalies’ surfaces.

The ghostly glowing veins suddenly brightened, and a powerful surge of energy filled the chamber.

The ginseng fruits trembled violently. The finger-like structures on their surfaces twisted frantically, and their bitter smiles became sharp and desperate, but they soon grew faint under the wash of energy.

Eventually, they stiffened completely. Their surfaces became covered in a gray, stone-like shell, and they ceased all movement.

The tentacles slowly loosened and returned to their limp state.

“Containment complete. All right, now for this old Taoist,” Chitra said. “He doesn’t need containment; he just needs ‘repatriation.’ Take him to the Transition Room over there. I’ll handle the operation.”

He Jiulu immediately controlled the unconscious Zhen Yuanzi, following another light strip that lit up on the floor to enter a smaller chamber.

This chamber was relatively simple. In its center was a constantly rotating, complex geometric pattern made of light and shadow, emitting waves of spatial distortion.

“Just throw him in,” Chitra said.

He Jiulu tossed Zhen Yuanzi toward the rotating light and shadow without hesitation.

The moment Zhen Yuanzi’s body touched the light, he was distorted and elongated as if being sucked into a vortex. With a final *whoosh*, he vanished. The geometric pattern slowly stopped rotating and returned to a calm state.

“Done! Squeak-cluck! Good work, you two Aishu!”

Chitra’s voice was light and cheerful. “He Jiulu, you can get lost and go back to hauling bricks. Sui Luowen, stay for a moment. There’s some basic information you need to register and file.”

He Jiulu didn’t want to stay a moment longer. Almost the instant Chitra stopped speaking, she felt the powerful force that had bound her consciousness to the clone vanish.

The feeling of the world spinning hit her again, but this time, it was a return.

***

At the construction site, He Denghong jerked awake on a bag of building materials. He coughed violently, the smell of burnt flesh and blood still seemingly lingering in his nose and mouth.

The synchronized agony flooded him instantly, feeling as if his entire body had been shattered and then crudely glued back together.

He found himself lying on the ground. Old Zhang, the foreman, and several coworkers were surrounding him, their faces filled with uncertainty and suspicion.

“Hey! He Denghong? Are you okay? Why did you suddenly twitch twice and pass out? Your face is so pale!” Old Zhang knelt down and patted his face.

He Denghong struggled to prop up his body, feeling every muscle scream in pain.

Suppreasing the synchronized pain and extreme mental exhaustion, he spoke hoarsely, “I’m… I’m fine, Brother Zhang. It might just be low blood sugar…”

“Low blood sugar?”

Standing nearby, Li Qiang crossed his arms and sneered. “I think you were up to no good last night and wore yourself out. With a scrawny body like yours, you’re trying to do manual labor?”

Normally, He Denghong might have felt humiliated or angry. But at this moment, the intense pain from his clone and the memory of the near-death experience were so vivid that these mocks became insignificant—almost laughable.

He was just struggling to survive, forced to do so in two completely different ways.

He ignored Li Qiang and simply said to the foreman, “Brother Zhang, I just need a quick rest. I can still work.”

He needed this pay. No matter how bizarre his experiences in his other identity were—heroic or not—the cold, hard pressure of reality remained real.

He stood up shakily and walked back toward the pile of construction waste. Every step felt like treading on knife points, a combination of his original body’s weakness and the clone’s injuries.

***

“Ah, ignore her. She’s just a psychopath. It’s only through my methods that she can sometimes act like a normal person. He Jiulu often falls into hallucinations, mistakenly believing she’s some poor soul struggling for a living.”

Chitra used these words to dismiss Sui Luowen’s puzzled gaze, attempting to hide He Jiulu’s true identity.

“Fuck you! I’m still watching! How dare you call me a psychopath?!” He Jiulu and He Denghong shouted in unison. Old Zhang and the coworkers immediately shot He Denghong a strange look.

“What are you looking at?” Old Zhang barked first, breaking the awkward silence. “Do none of you have work to do? Li Qiang, you talk too much! If you keep wagging your tongue, you’re carrying all the cement for Building Three this afternoon!”