What Kind of Life Do You Want to Live (Part 2)

Martyrdom... Ye Huan's eyes grew as deep and fathomless as the sea. The door lock clicked. "What are you doing?" Song Fushan's voice came from behind. "Someone wants to deliver a package to me, but I haven't ordered anything recently," Ye Huan said. Song Fushan couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. "Aren't you being a bit overly cautious? Well, fine. That's how people live long lives." He walked over to the window as well, parting the blinds with his fingers to peer outside. "Right by the entrance of the Bureau of Investigation. Gray courier uniform with red trim, wearing a cap and mask, carrying a box," Ye Huan described. Song Fushan narrowed his eyes, scanned the scene, and murmured, "Judging purely by gut instinct... there really is something off about that guy." He turned and walked out. A moment later, he returned carrying a rifle that closely resembled a sniper rifle. Raising it, he took aim. *Bang.* The man collapsed on the spot. Song Fushan shoved the window open and prepared to leap out, but Ye Huan grabbed his arm. "?" Song Fushan gave him an inquiring look. "Do we have robots or something like that? Let a robot go check it out," Ye Huan said. "Tranquilizer dart. He's already out cold," Song Fushan said, spreading his hands. "Better safe than sorry," Ye Huan insisted. Song Fushan shook his head in amusement, then gave him a thumbs-up. "You sure mature fast." He picked up the desk landline and dialed a number. "Connect me to Old Liu in the Anti-Terrorism Section—Hey, there's a suspicious individual at the gate. I already dropped him. Go see if he's packing anything." After waiting a short while. Two investigators dashed out of the building, scanning the area with detection devices. One of them instantly shouted, "Evacuate! Evacuate!" The other immediately made a call to report the situation. *Beep, beep, beep!* Ye Huan and Song Fushan pulled out their phones at the same time, looking at the notification in the work group chat: *"@All Members: A timed bomb has been discovered at the main entrance. Qualified personnel, please proceed immediately to dispose of it!"* A timed bomb! The usually dead group chat erupted with activity in an instant. *"Someone planted a bomb, yet it didn't go off. This proves the outstanding professionalism and capability of our colleagues in the Anti-Terrorism Section."* — Song Fushan, Mysterious Affairs Section. *"Someone planted a bomb, yet ended up tranquilized. This proves the colleagues in the Mysterious Affairs Section anticipate the enemy, maintain sharp vigilance, and possess first-rate crisis response."* — Zhang Deming, Anti-Terrorism Affairs Section. *"Someone planted a bomb. This proves that everyone's day-to-day work has borne fruit, provoking genuine hatred from the enemy."* — Xia Li, General Affairs Section. *"I hope everyone keeps up the good work. Next time, I'd like to see thugs storming into my office—whoever lures them over, I'll promote on the spot by one grade. However, I do not encourage hiring people to barge in, because I will beat them to death directly."* — Bureau Director. *"Understood, Director!"* — Song Fushan, Zhang Deming, Xia Li. *"Who will go dispose of the bomb? The holiday fruit we prepared for everyone is about to arrive."* — Ma Ming, Logistics Section. Silence fell over the chat. *"Who's going?"* — Bureau Director. *"Me!"* *"Me!"* *"Me!"* *"..."* An entire wall of "Me!" began furiously spamming the screen. Before Ye Huan could even process what was happening, Song Fushan, who had been standing beside him, tossed his phone aside and leapt out the window like a sudden gale. In the blink of an eye, he bolted straight to the main gate, scooped up the box, and roared at the top of his lungs, "Aaaaargh—" He hurled it with all his might! The box howled as it shot into the sky like a reversed shooting star. With a sharp *shwoosh*, it pierced through the atmosphere, dwindled into a tiny black dot, and vanished from sight. Catching his breath, Song Fushan vaulted back through the window into the office, picked up his phone, and typed out a message: *"Reporting to the Director, the bomb has been handled!"* *"(Thumbs up)"* — Bureau Director. *"To relieve the Director of his burdens is the greatest honor of my life!"* — Song Fushan, Mysterious Affairs Section. Ye Huan stared silently at his phone screen. For some reason, he had a distinct feeling that countless people were furiously hammering their keyboards at this very moment. Yet the group chat remained dead quiet. Only Song Fushan stared at his phone, muttering smugly to himself, "A bunch of slow-handed slackers. What good does cursing at me in private messages do? You still couldn't even catch my dust, could you?" Like a triumphant general, he strutted out of the room with his phone in hand. Ye Huan was left alone in the office. Taking a few steps back, Ye Huan slowly sat down in the office chair, an indescribable look washing over his face. One particular mystery... ...had finally found its answer in this very moment. Ever since he woke up in this world. He vaguely recalled the first time he encountered an assassin—when someone showed up at his door to kill him right after he reported to the Bureau of Investigation. Back then, he had met Xia Li. Xia Li helped him out, sending him back to fetch his personnel file. Then, while waiting for his meal in the staff quarters, an assassin had come knocking, guns blazing. The second time. Xia Li had called him back to work to escort him to the Mysterious Affairs Section to report for duty. And what happened next? He had merely stepped out with Song Fushan to grab a bowl of noodles, only to run into the mastermind behind the Sunset Boulevard prison van ambush. The third time. Xia Li remarked that the Taiyin Sect was "too sinister" and helped him pick his Third-Class Merit reward. And after that? He had simply gone out to rent an apartment, only to stumble upon the Black Tide Concealer, followed by Luosha's descent, and then the descent of the woman's head. Right! He had nearly rented an apartment right across from Xia Li's door! After careful consideration, he chose to stay away and avoid living in the same residential complex as her! Right then, he had immediately received an evaluation: *"You promptly and decisively avoided private contact with Xia Li."* *"This was extremely effective for preserving your life."* *"Evaluation +1."* Why did this keep happening? —The answer had been right in front of him all along. The "Ill Omen" dwelling within Xia Li, that Ether power obtained through her ritual, regarded him as a "competitor"! Why? On what grounds?! How could a mere Shidu martial artist like him ever be considered a "competitor" to a Taiyin Sect disciple like Xia Luoning? Was the Ether out of its damn mind?! To use such horrifying methods against him! Ye Huan closed his eyes, slowly evening out his breathing until he regained complete composure. Stay calm. He had to remain calm. In truth— Regardless of what the Ether did, one thing remained unchanged. An Qi would definitely come for his life! If he had never met Xia Li, perhaps these crises would not have descended upon him so rapidly. —Yet he would inevitably have to face An Qi regardless! If he were given the chance to live through this recent period all over again, how would he choose? Stay far away from Xia Li, and then what? Never cross paths with Luosha. Let Luosha die a helpless death? Fail to earn enough evaluation points, leaving him unable to advance his strength so quickly? Remain limited to only the Iron Hand to this day, never getting the chance to learn the Iron Cloth Shirt, let alone a Jiuyao-tier technique like the Golden Bell Shield? Then how would he withstand An Qi's threat? Just like the past two days... From dawn to dusk, practicing stance training bit by bit, progressing at a crawl, while his evaluation remained at a flat zero with no rewards whatsoever. Was that what he truly wanted? If he continued like that, once An Qi amassed enough power and came to kill him once more— Could he win? Could he survive? Perhaps across a person's life, during the vast majority of their years, the evaluation would remain zero for most of the time. That was what normal life and work looked like. And the result of that was— Quietly fading into mediocrity like everyone else? Ye Huan sat there, his expression slightly dazed. Suddenly. A brand-new prompt surfaced in his mind: *"Your rational and restrained handling kept you from having to subject your Golden Bell Shield to the trial of flames and explosions."* *"You survived this attack unscathed."* *"Evaluation +1."* ...After two consecutive days of goose eggs, he had finally broken the dry spell. Breaking the dry spell meant all kinds of rewards. It meant he could continue scaling the heights of the martial path. It meant he could explore even more bizarre and exotic powers. —At a speed far surpassing ordinary people. A mixture of complex emotions welled up in Ye Huan's chest. When Song Fushan returned to the office, he found Ye Huan standing before the window, gazing down at the unscathed gates of the Bureau of Investigation, murmuring softly under his breath: "What kind of life do you want to live..." A breeze drifted in. The blinds swayed gently back and forth. Song Fushan paused in the doorway, lit a cigarette, took two deep drags, and finally spoke: "That question is a bit too philosophical. I'll keep you company for a cigarette, and then we have to head to the debriefing. Use this time to figure out what you're going to say." Ye Huan did not turn around. "Don't stress over it. We just pulled the surveillance footage, and facial recognition identified him as a Black Tide cultist," Song Fushan added. "He came to kill me," Ye Huan said. "Yeah. He has multiple lives on his hands and has taken part in kidnappings, extortion, trafficking, and drug peddling. He's been on the wanted list for a long time," Song Fushan said. "A scumbag like that managed to evade capture all this time?" Ye Huan asked. "Human capability has its limits, but scum are infinite—among all species living in collective societies, humans are the only ones who produce scum in such abundance." Song Fushan blew out a smoke ring. Ye Huan pondered for a moment before speaking. "At least Luosha survived." "Your informant?" Song Fushan asked. "Yes." "You jump topics way too fast—what are you actually trying to say?" "Suffering itself holds no meaning, but the growth that follows suffering is truly valuable, Section Chief." "...That bomb didn't scramble your brain, did it?" "Of course not, Section Chief. I just figured a few things out." "Good to hear. Come on, let's head to the meeting." "Yes, sir." The two walked out of the office and made their way down the corridor. As they walked, Ye Huan cast a brief glance toward the General Affairs Office. Xia Li carried an "Ill Omen." If he wanted to live out his days in quiet peace, he had to keep his distance from her. However. If he chose the other path in life, he needed her! —Other people would naturally be caught off guard by unpredictable threats. Yet he could see others' identity tags. That drastically reduced the difficulty of survival. Looking at the situation from another angle— Xia Li effectively served as a "mechanism" tailored specifically for him. To use tennis as an analogy. She was like a ball machine. And to elevate his strength, what he needed was precisely such an efficient ball machine to help him drill and score points. Whenever he felt exhausted, all he had to do was step away from her to get plenty of rest. —Because the crises had already erupted in concentrated bursts! While not an absolute rule, it was close enough. Therefore... "This is simply fantastic." Ye Huan clenched his fists tightly, murmuring under his breath. *** High in the sky, the black briefcase soared through the air. Upon reaching a certain altitude, its momentum did not flag; instead, it accelerated, plunging downward in a sharp arc. Across vast swathes of wilderness, thick, grayish-white clouds gathered, completely blotting out the light of the sky. The briefcase tore through the cloud layer, plummeting faster and faster, when suddenly a long, mucus-drenched tendril of soft tissue snatched it, instantly dragging it beneath the earth. A few seconds passed. *BOOM—* A tremendous, muffled detonation rumbled from deep underground. Upon the surface of the earth, a colossal human face appeared. Its eyes remained shut while its mouth writhed slightly, as though it were slowly awakening from slumber. The thick, billowing smoke born from the explosion seeped out through the cracks of its lips and its nostrils, rapidly staining the sky an oily black. Once the thick smoke dispersed, the gigantic human face let out a long, lingering mutter, savoring the taste: "*Hiss—hiss-haaa—*" "What did I just eat? That's really spicy..."