Chapter 13: A True Home

Valenti continued, "Therefore, only the Mercury Needle in a state of 'bullet time' can stand against monsters like the Chelate—data shows that a Chelate patient’s strength rapidly increases to 10 to 60 times their original power after onset, sustaining for one to two weeks."

"Imagine, an average adult can lift about 100 to 150 pounds at most, but a Chelate—especially one transformed from a healthy adult—can effortlessly hoist objects weighing up to four tons. A hundred-meter sprint usually takes a normal person 12 to 16 seconds, but for a Chelate, it’s just a fleeting moment. How can ordinary people possibly stand against such foes?"

"Humans need the Mercury Needle. At least, this way both sides can fight on a more even footing," Valenti said softly. "That is the very reason for our existence."

Hester pondered seriously for a moment. "How long must a Mercury Needle’s ‘bullet time’ last to qualify for the battlefield?"

"Four hours," Valenti replied. "During operations, strict timing is enforced, and there are continuous tactical rotations to ensure the safety of every Mercury Needle as much as possible."

At last, Hester understood. "Do you know how long Miss Chiba’s bullet time lasts?"

"Ah, of course. Her duration is practically legendary here," Valenti chuckled.

Curious, Hester looked at Valenti.

"Seventy-six hours and forty-three minutes," Valenti said. "In this matter, Misaki is a legend."

As they spoke, Valenti had already led her to the door of Room 403.

Valenti handed Hester a key card. "This is your dormitory card. Swipe it yourself."

Hester brought the card close to the scanner beside the handle. With a mechanical click like gears meshing, the door swung inward. She stepped inside. The gray floor looked to be made of some hard resin material; her rubber-soled shoes made an unpleasant sticky sound as she walked.

The living room was about twenty-four or twenty-five square meters. On the wall facing the door stood a large window nearly two meters tall. Outside, the sun was already setting. The southern side of the room was bathed in the shadows cast by the evening light, but beyond the window, a dozen towering phoenix trees gently swayed their newly sprouted crowns in the light breeze and shifting shadows. No tall buildings obstructed the view; she could see the horizon where the woods met the sky.

At the center of the room was a very large rectangular white table. Scattered along its edge were some books, pen holders, and little trinkets whose purpose Hester did not recognize. A few crooked mirrors leaned against the corners, making her worry they might crash to the floor at any moment.

Passing by, Hester reached out and gently pushed the mirrors inward.

Below the window was a long, worn cloth sofa. Hester knelt on it, steadying herself against the backrest, and softly pushed open the window.

The approaching night breeze brought a chill, but the view before her was like a living painting, briefly soothing her anxiety and sorrow.

To her right was a protruding balcony, converted into a small open kitchen. Some cheese, ham, cucumbers, and cherry tomatoes lay scattered on the cutting board. The sink beside it was piled with bowls and plates stained with sauce.

Hester turned back. "Am I going to live here from now on?"

"Yes. Someone will bring your basic luggage later," Valenti said.

Hester withdrew her gaze. Five doors stood by her side, but only three bore nameplates. Two of those doors had paper posters stuck to them—one featuring a rock band, the other a silhouette of an elderly man bent over a desk writing.

"Your room is the one by the window, on the west side."

Following Valenti’s direction, Hester gently pushed open the door to her single room.

The furnishings were very simple: a bed, a wardrobe, a wall cabinet, and a window also facing south—offering a view of the rows of phoenix trees.

"If you need anything else, just email Mr. Veil, who handles logistics. He’ll do his best to accommodate your daily needs," Valenti said, placing a sheet filled with residency guidelines on Hester’s bed.

"Besides that, we’ve already transferred your basic information to Miss Fletcher, who lives next door. She will officially change roles in the second half of the year, but during this period, she’ll help you get familiar with daily training life. Any other questions, Miss Hester?"

"You can call me Jane," Hester lowered her eyes. "I do have one question… If my bullet time doesn’t exceed four hours, what can I do?"

"Oh, there are plenty of options," Valenti smiled, pointing to herself. "For example, like me, handling clerical work inside the base, or becoming an accompanying medic—but those are things you only need to consider after you turn fourteen."

Hester was about to ask more detailed questions when Valenti’s phone rang. She answered it, waved at Hester, and stepped out of the room.

The golden sunset reflected in her eyes. Hester used her uninjured left hand to pick up the 'Residency Guidelines' Valenti left behind, read it briefly, then set it aside.

In the twilight, the small single room was left with only Hester. She slowly sat on the soft bed, gently stroking the soft quilt beneath her.

...

At 11 p.m., Valenti finally finished organizing the seasonal data documents in her office. Working such hours was rare in District 3, but compared to steadily progressing bit by bit each day, Valenti preferred to clear all tasks in one solid block of time.

As she prepared to shut down and leave, she found a new email in her inbox—from Mr. Veil, the logistics officer—listing all the new items requested by Mercury Needle newcomers up to today.

This information was shared with the Psychological Aid Center where Valenti worked.

Generally, in the first six months at the training base, newcomers rarely requested material goods.

On one hand, this was because AHgAs provided very detailed daily necessities, covering almost every aspect of life; on the other hand, the children had mostly just survived various harrowing incidents and were in a state of extreme anxiety, leaving them no time to care for anything else.

Only after gradually adapting to life here and developing some trust in the AHgAs organization would they begin to request small items beyond basic necessities—and both these requests and the items themselves were information Valenti and her colleagues needed to monitor daily. They served as indicators to evaluate the newcomers’ psychological states.

Valenti scanned the shopping lists line by line as usual. However, when she scrolled to the bottom of the item list, she let out a soft, surprised "hmm."

At the last entry was the name Jane Hester—who had already submitted a list of desired items today.

...

[Jane Hester’s Request Email]

Dear Mr. Veil,

This is Lavitte from the student dormitory. Since the newcomer Jane Hester does not know how to send emails, I am writing her first logistics request on her behalf.

Miss Hester requires a small cast iron chair (preferably dark green), a half-round solid wood side table (suitable to place beneath the window sill), a double-sided jacquard rug large enough to accommodate the side table and cast iron chair (preferably white with green patterns, either semicircular or square), some iron wire, red, green, and black cardstock, and a cloche with a wooden base suitable for placing on the side table.

Thank you.

Lavitte

Best regards.