Chapter 32: The Chai-Si—Artifacts for Finding the Path

When Chai Si was a child, Uncle Kai would sometimes take him camping in the mountains.

Deep in the mountains, far from the sleepless hustle and bustle of Blackmoor City, the world was pitch black and silent. Beyond the glow of a crimson bonfire, there was nothing to see but the stars overhead; he had never seen a night so pure, as if even the forest had vanished into the vacuum of space.

Uncle Kai taught him to identify the constellations. From the expanse of stars, he would softly trace lines between them, forming the shape of a water ladle, or the Great Bear... The mountain nights were cold, and he always brought two extra blankets. The young Chai Si, wrapped tightly in blankets, would sit beside Uncle Kai, his gaze drifting through the cosmos.

At this very moment, he was reminded of those lines traced between the stars.

Although they were far less beautiful than the starry sky, a few points of light seemed to be emerging from this subway driver, forming a shape when connected.

With this vague shape in mind, he began to form a hypothesis.

First, "a female corpse was discovered after the subway line was suspended"—this was fact, a piece of news from not long ago.

Second, "someone was attacked after working the night shift"—Chai Si was not yet certain of the truth of this; it could be one of the hundreds of daily news items in Blackmoor City.

Third, "a pair consisting of a female detective and a male professor investigating a serial case"—this was a television drama.

The three elements that made up the rumor were all there.

In this light... his own appearance on the subway was like a sudden bolt of electricity that had illuminated something in the driver's mind.

Before seeing Chai Si, the subway driver had not felt any of his so-called "suspicion" or "fear"; when he walked through the empty subway car alone, he had been humming a tune.

Yet, the moment he saw a tall man armed with a weapon, the subway driver clearly lost the ability to distinguish truth from falsehood for a brief moment—the three points above were rapidly spliced and combined, creating a rumor of a "recent subway serial killer" in the span of a single breath.

What was interesting was that when the rumor spilled out, the driver himself completely believed the story he had just created, even worrying for his own life because of it.

...So, this is how the "Rumor" artifact functions?

By combining and adapting raw informational material, letting the finished rumor flow out of a person's mouth... that is only the first step; as for what follows, I fear I will only understand it once I obtain the artifact itself.

No, that's not right. Perhaps it should be said that this is merely one of its modes of operation.

Judging by various signs, the subway driver was just an information repository with enough key data, a mouth that could speak the words. He was completely unaware of what influence he was under, and had no self-awareness whatsoever—it was hard to imagine that Wesilai would allow an artifact to manipulate him, rather than the other way around.

There must be a way to actively utilize it, to actively manufacture rumors; but that was not the primary issue at hand.

The most important thing right now was to get his hands on the artifact.

Chai Si stared at the driver’s cheeks, watching a lump, seemingly pushed up by a tongue, slide across his face—it had happened several times already.

"Spit out whatever is in your mouth."

The driver was startled. "In my mouth? There's nothing there."

Chai Si looked at him without speaking.

"It's true, there's nothing. I just have a habit of pushing my tongue against the inside of my cheek." Under his gaze, the driver panicked and said soothingly, "If you don't believe me, I'll open my mouth, look—"

Chai Si looked into the fleshy, red oral cavity with some displeasure.

He had seen the interior of human bodies many times; although he was accustomed to it, he always found it slimy and unsightly.

The human mouth is strange. If you stare at it for too long, it even reminds him of an alien creature—the trembling red throat, the fuzzy tongue, always rolling and swimming slightly in a layer of glistening fluid, as if possessing a will of its own.

But no matter how unpleasant they were, they were not the artifact; aside from what should be in a person's mouth, there was nothing else there.

Of course, Chai Si hadn't expected the artifact to be spat out so easily. He wasn't disappointed by this failure—after all, if someone really had an object in their mouth, how could they not notice? Ivan couldn't just shove something into someone's mouth without them knowing.

Although he didn't know the form of the artifact yet, if it was hidden inside his flesh, taking it out would likely involve some blood and dirtying his hands... The subway car, serving as a backup train, was not an ideal location. Just as the driver said, someone might arrive soon.

Chai Si grabbed him by the collar, but just as he was about to lift him up, the driver suddenly seemed to realize something. He began to struggle and kick violently, shouting, "Where are you taking me?"

He was a heavy, stout man; if it had been someone else, he might have been difficult to subdue—but Chai Si had released his grip the moment he sensed the movement, kicking out with his right foot to strike the man's ankle. Before the driver's cry of pain could even escape, Chai Si's T-bar was buried deep into his abdomen, smashing his breath, balance, and strength right out of him. He slumped to the floor without a sound.

The driver didn't fully collapse; Chai Si had already grabbed him by the back of his clothes, carrying him like a sack of groceries.

Only, this sack was a bit large, and his legs were still dragging softly on the ground.

"I'm very interested in this thing called a rumor," Chai Si said, dragging him forward in a conversational tone. "I just want to chat. As for whether you want to chat in one piece or missing a few limbs, that depends entirely on you."

The driver couldn't even catch his breath, and for a moment, he couldn't say anything but intermittent, blurred moans. Chai Si decided to interpret this as his consent.

It wasn't until he had dragged the man a few more steps that he vaguely distinguished a few words from the moans—Chai Si stopped.

He looked out the window; in the dark, silent subway tunnel, it seemed no one would be coming for a while.

"What did you say?" He leaned down, encouraging him with almost tender patience. "Speak clearly."

The driver muttered something again, his articulation extremely slurred.

Chai Si used his imagination, but could only make out a few inexplicable words, which seemed to be "line," "bad," and "electric." As for what they meant, he couldn't piece it together at all.

Just as he was about to tell the driver to repeat himself, his heart skipped a beat.

He knew how heavy his own force was, so he had been careful to pull his punches. Besides, a strike to the abdomen shouldn't leave someone unable to speak clearly after more than ten seconds.

Thinking of this... did the driver open his mouth when he spoke just now?

It was as if he had been pierced by this thought. He flung his hand, and the driver rolled onto the ground like a bundle of laundry.

As the man flashed face-up and rolled, Chai Si saw it clearly in a split second—the driver’s skin was pulled tight and thin, his lips pressed shut so firmly they were barely visible. He seemed to be struggling against something; to keep his teeth clenched, a tendon on his jaw bulged, jumping as it climbed toward his temple.

His eyes were rolled back, as if faced with a terrifying question—the more he couldn't figure it out, the more afraid he became.

Earlier, he had been afraid of Chai Si, and his mouth had been running incessantly; but now, his lips were sealed tight, as if he were afraid of something new.

The next second, Chai Si understood the source of his fear.

The driver’s head knocked against the handrail. It was just a bump, but it seemed to loosen the tension he had been holding.

He didn't open his mouth, but from between his closed lips, a human voice came again, much clearer than before: "The carriage... electric light... the wire, it snapped, it fell..."

If Chai Si had realized even a blink later, he might have been electrocuted by the wire dangling from the ceiling—even with his timely realization, he only barely managed to dodge at the last second. He crashed into a chair to the side, watching as a bundle of crackling electric sparks swept across the floor in front of him, the sparks slithering like a snake.

Is this artifact protecting itself?

The thought flashed through Chai Si's mind.

The driver instinctively covered his head, his body curling up. The wire fell to the ground, missed him, and then bounced up again, lashing out from mid-air, swinging toward Chai Si.

The carriage was not spacious, and the spot where the paneling had fallen away and the wire had descended was right in the center; a live, crackling wire was already troublesome enough—but when Chai Si threw his T-bar, meeting the sparking wire head-on and knocking it back a few steps, he heard the voice from the driver's cheeks again.

"Want to go home."

Hearing it now, he realized it was a voice not at all like the subway driver's, speaking urgently and vaguely: "Want to go home, the passage, the passage for people to reach the nest—"

For a moment, Chai Si mistakenly thought he had been struck by the wire.

Every pore of his body tingled, and he dared not move, as if afraid to startle it, afraid it wouldn't continue speaking. The scar on the back of his right hand awakened, the skin tightening and twitching in waves.

Chai Si stood blankly before the seat, one hand still gripping the plastic backrest. Aside from the voice beneath the driver's cheeks, it was as if the entire world had faded from his consciousness, and he had returned to the silent, dark mountains of his childhood. The difference was that in this darkness, he could only see a single star.

"...None." The voice beneath the driver's cheeks said.

The wire leaped back into mid-air, a string of electric sparks arcing through the air and landing by Chai Si's feet.

He heard his own heart thud against his ribs, unable to escape its cage, sliding back into the depths of the darkness.

In the dead silence, he realized he had taken a step forward, his legs stiff, his fingers digging into the fabric of the driver's chest, but the hand felt as if it were very far away.

This meaningless body felt very far away from him.

"The residents,"

As he yanked the driver to his feet, the man's legs dangling weakly, a voice came from the driver's clamped lips again. "The passage to the human world, it exists, residents, one."

The driver's heavy breathing, the sound of the subway’s ventilation system, the crackling of the wire... it was as if a sluice gate had been opened, and all the sounds and movements flooded back into Chai Si's consciousness.

"Make it be quiet," Chai Si gritted his teeth, squeezing the four words at the driver.

After those four words, his peripheral vision told him that there was a pitch-black window ahead, curving into the carriage as if it were a sheet of fabric being pushed up by a giant object.