Family

January 1, 2345 AD. Had nothing gone awry, this should have been Year 216 of the Wasteland Era. Yet because so much had transpired, the timeline leading straight into the abyss had ultimately been rewritten. The Orion had not fallen into the hands of the Celestials, and neither had the azure planet. Turning the tide, the survivors of the new age had taken up the torch from their forebears, using it to dispel the boundless, enduring night and welcome the arrival of dawn. January 1, 2345 AD. Bound for the Lagrange Point Space Station, the Orion docked at the starport. Besides bringing back the heroes of the Burning Corps and ferrying relief garrisons, it carried forty thousand standard shipping containers—nearly five hundred thousand tons of cargo in all. For the first time in two centuries, goods manufactured on the surface entered the parking orbit of the Lagrange Point. And just two years ago, Earth's outer space orbits had still been choked with dense swathes of orbital debris. Of those five hundred thousand tons of cargo, only a tiny fraction consisted of supplies. The vast majority comprised aerospace materials, intermediate products, and various components produced in the Daybreak City Industrial Zone, the Ideal City Industrial Zone, the Rim Southern Sea Industrial Zone, the Ravinka Industrial Zone, and the Batoya Industrial Zone. In accordance with the pact signed earlier, the Academy had shared starship blueprints from the Human Alliance Era with the Alliance, along with the historical logistics data and "supplier purchase orders" the Academy had recovered from the wasteland relating to the Lagrange Point Space Station. With these records as a guide, the Alliance could bring its allies together and fully replicate the entire industrial supply chain that had supported the Lagrange Point Space Station back in the Era of Prosperity. In exchange, utilizing the blueprints and technology provided by the Academy, the Alliance would fulfill the Lagrange Point Space Station's first order for a "large-scale civilian interstellar cruise liner" since the end of the Era of Prosperity. Rich as the compensation was, the order was no small undertaking; its catalog alone took up several gigabytes of data. The sprawling web of supporting industries and dizzying assortment of components were undeniably astronomical for a wasteland that had only just emerged from decline. Fortunately, the Alliance was not fighting alone. Beyond a whole host of junior partners, it had the assistance of Ideal City—a former big brother gradually being relegated to a little brother! The industrial machinery manufactured by the Silverwing Group made up immensely for the Alliance and its allies' shortcomings in production quality, while the Endpoint Group's data processing technology laid the fertile groundwork for building an even more sophisticated supply chain. It was worth mentioning that, once upon a time, the Endpoint Group had looked down on expanding its Endpoint Cloud operations across the wasteland. Now, in the wake of the Alliance's investments in digital infrastructure and soaring demand for data centers, Endpoint's board of directors could only eat their words and admit how sweet it tasted. Social mobility had long been stagnant in Ideal City's upper crust, but channels for upward movement still existed after all. If the Endpoint Group failed to ride the crest of the era, it would naturally be supplanted by up-and-coming information technology firms that seized the day. Especially with the Alliance favoring providing more opportunities to rising stars like Abu Aerospace to foster healthy competition, Endpoint felt an even keener sense of urgency. Much of the technology on the wasteland was already at hand. To say nothing of the Academy opening its own databases to the Alliance, leaving few obvious barriers around most cutting-edge technologies. Those who could not adapt to the era had no choice but to be swept away by it. And so, through robust competition and cooperation among all parties, the initial five hundred thousand tons of cargo destined for the Lagrange Point Space Station were finally completed. Even the State of Mammoth, freshly baptized in war, contributed a batch of engineering exoskeletons, while the Batoya Alliance—having renounced the name of the Southern Legion—secured orders for more than a hundred precision parts. Arriving alongside the guided missile cruiser Orion were not just goods, but nearly a thousand personnel from every corner of the Slime Mold Consortium. All of them were experts in the aerospace industry. Most were vault dwellers, particularly those from the Alliance's shelters. Those who had once found no use for their skills throughout the Wasteland Era had finally arrived in an age where they could unleash their full potential. Drawing on their expertise and experience, these specialists from the Human Alliance Era would restart the shipbuilding yards at the Lagrange Point Space Station, completing the first batch of standard-model cargo starships as soon as possible to relieve the guided missile cruiser Orion of its transport duties. Chu Guang's ambitions for this space station went far beyond a single colony ship. In addition to the Academy's orders, he unveiled the blueprint for the "Solar System Renaissance Plan" at the Slime Mold Consortium General Assembly. Formulated jointly by the Alliance's Scientific Expedition and corresponding bodies under the Academy's Science Committee, the blueprint laid out a three-stage recovery of the Human Alliance Era's outer space installations. In the first phase, the Alliance would rebuild the Mars colony, attempt to repair the extraction facilities on Ceres, and establish mining stations across the asteroid belt between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. In the second phase, the Alliance would extend its reach further outward, establishing habitats on celestial bodies where the Human Alliance had once left its mark—such as Europa and Titan—conducting archaeological studies of pre-war facilities while restoring production to the greatest extent possible. In the third phase, the Alliance would return to the Kuiper Belt, completing the recovery of all legacy assets of the Human Alliance. The entire plan would proceed in five-year cycles. And as it progressed, the initiative would continually feed back into the reconstruction of the surface world. Any goods and derivatives associated with the Solar System Renaissance Plan would enjoy tariff relief down to zero tariffs upon entering the Alliance's markets. Beyond its own borders, the Alliance welcomed every signatory of the Slime Mold Consortium to participate in the Solar System Renaissance Plan, contributing production capacity while sharing in the proceeds and trading what they had for what they lacked in service of humanity's common good. With the proven success of the Slime Mold Consortium before them, the various survivor factions could already envision it: this grand vision painted by the Manager himself would soon take up the historic mantle nearly completed by the Consortium, serving as a new framework for global cooperation and the cornerstone of the New Era's order. And in the years that followed, that evolving blueprint would indeed prove true to its promise. To commemorate that man's achievements, future historians studying this glorious epoch would trace the arc of the Solar System Renaissance Plan and formally name this chapter inscribed for posterity the "Dawn Era." They commemorated him. And not him alone. But that was a story for later... *** It was just past seven in the evening, the liveliest hour at Boulder City's Pirate Bay Tavern. There were no pirates here, nor any ships—only a holographic television mounted in the corner of the wall and a crowd of dead-drunk workers. In the not-so-distant Wasteland Era, all the people here had produced were soulless cans of food. Though many still toiled away in the canning factories, those soulless cans were now being sold all the way out at the distant Lagrange Point Space Station. A commercial for a Boulder City canned food brand cut into the broadcast of the "Awakened Soccer Tournament." The premise was simple: hearty, miraculous cans delivering the taste of home to the "tin cans" on duty out at the Lagrange Point. The tongue-in-cheek advertisement amused everyone in the tavern, and the sudden burst of laughter startled Kent, who was slumped over the bar, into jerking his shoulders upright. The companions he had been drinking with had already gone home, but his mind remained stuck on the conversation before he had crashed. He let out a long, drawn-out burp and yelled loudly to no one in particular: "Actually... I knew it all along! That Manager's a genuinely good guy!" The outburst was utterly jarring, like someone rushing to place a bet on the winner after the match had already ended. The tavern went quiet for a beat, before everyone, unable to hold it in, erupted into a roar of laughter. "Hahaha!" "Kent, if your dick were half as stiff as your lip, maybe your wife wouldn't have divorced you!" "Who was the guy saying 'they're all the same' again?" "Relax, buddy, you don't have to pretend to be like everyone else. Even if you don't love the guy, no one's gonna force you to kiss his ass—and we sure as hell aren't taking a whip to yours!" "Hahahaha!" Kent, nursing grievances he couldn't voice, flushed crimson. Unable to muster a rebuttal, he took a heavy swig of his drink and muttered to himself: "If folks could foresee three days ahead, there'd be no poor men left on earth... Who could've known what was gonna happen?" Who could have guessed that the century-old tower would come crashing down, or that a ragtag outfit cobbled together by a bunch of carpenters wouldn't be any worse than the noble Lord Xide? Who could've seen that coming... And then there was House, who had run off to Bugra to keep spouting his hot air. Hadn't he claimed that an incomplete purge was the same as no purge at all, that the old nobility would eventually return to strip the Workers' Association of its hollow victory and bring punishment down upon the traitors? How come before Boulder City could blow up, Bugra went and set off its own fireworks first—bang, bang, bang!? The more Kent thought about it, the angrier he got. He utterly despised that jinx of a man, and he washed down another gulp of beer into his belly. Still, truth be told, though beer from Port French Fries wasn't as mellow and rich as Boulder City's brew, it had a charm all its own. He didn't know whether it was just his imagination or credit due to that Tree of Life thing. Kent couldn't help musing that once he saved up a few days of paid leave, he'd go stay over there for half a month... *** New Year's Day, January 1st, was a statutory holiday in the Alliance. Although Boulder City had possessed no tradition of celebrating the New Year over the past two centuries, Alisa, studying far away at Camp 101, felt homesick amidst the festive atmosphere and ultimately decided to pay a visit home. It wasn't far anyway. Qingquan City was no longer the perilous hell it had once been. The long-paralyzed underground transit had resumed operations shortly after the Alliance conquered the broodmother hive. Having climbed out of its debt crisis, Boulder City had renovated the subway station outside its gates a year ago. From that point on, an express train south from Daybreak City reached Boulder City in just an hour, without even needing a transfer. Suitcase in hand, Alisa stood before the front door. A wave of apprehension washed over her as she neared home, but she gathered her courage and knocked. The door opened slowly. To Alisa's surprise, standing on the other side was her eldest brother. The tall, thin man wore a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose, the sternness etched between his brows even more paternal than their father's. Though their family had fallen on hard times, a fallen tiger was still a tiger. Especially this eldest son of the Malvin family: even if he no longer droned on about restoring the family glory, he still carried an air of nobility and composure that none of the drunks in Boulder City possessed. Fixed beneath that sharp gaze, Alisa instinctively shrank back a little, but in the end she straightened her spine. She was no longer the helpless little girl who could do nothing without someone to aid her. Now, not only did she have a circle of dependable companions, she was her own strength. As if noticing her maturity, the sharp glare softened slightly. Walfit spoke in a gentler tone. "You're back?" "Mm..." Alisa nodded cautiously, nudging her suitcase an inch closer to the threshold, and murmured, "How... are you?" Ever since he had slapped her across the face on the square that day, the two had never spoken face-to-face like this, keeping in touch only through letters. Walfit looked at her with a complicated expression—relief, guilt, and many things that couldn't be easily put into words. Perhaps unsure of how to begin, he swallowed those words down and merely said flatly, "I'm... getting by. What about you? Settling in well?" "Mm! I'm doing great!" Seeing her brother finally willing to talk more, a heartfelt smile broke across Alisa's face, and she chatteringly opened up. "Since going to Camp 101, I've learned so many things I'd never heard of before, and I made tons of friends..." Watching his cheerful sister, a genuine smile touched Walfit's face as well. He reached out and lifted the suitcase that had subtly crept up to the doorstep. "Don't just stand in the doorway... Come inside." "Mm!" Alisa nodded vigorously and happily stepped inside, chattering the whole way about everything she had seen and done at Camp 101. Hearing her daughter's voice, Guenis, who was cooking in the kitchen, rushed out in excitement and threw her arms around Alisa. "Alisa! My precious daughter, I missed you so much! You must have suffered out there!" Faint wrinkles lined her face, which still held traces of past charm. Whether due to the upheavals of their family's fall or the daily grind of ordinary life, the once graceful, aristocratic lady had gradually transformed into an ordinary elderly woman. Looking at her mother, who had aged so much, Alisa felt a pang of sorrow in her nose. If there was anyone she felt she had wronged the most, it could only be her family. Yet in truth, she hadn't had much of a choice... just like so many who had stood beside her that night. Flow with the changing times, or be crushed beneath the wheels of history. Standing at that tempestuous crossroads, young as she was, she had only been able to follow her heart. "Mom... I've been doing well out there... What about you? Are you used to life here?" Beholding her daughter's youthful face, Guenis broke into a comforting smile and gave her cheek an affectionate squeeze. "I'm doing wonderfully. Your father and I got used to it long ago. Oh, by the way, Mom's learned quite a few signature dishes lately... You and your brother wait just a moment, and I'll bring them out for you to try!" "Mm!" Swallowing back the tears welling in her eyes, Alisa nodded hard. After kissing her daughter's cheek, Guenis returned to the kitchen, joining her eldest daughter-in-law to finish preparing the evening meal. Not only her mother—her sister-in-law had stepped out from the shadows of the past as well. Yet it was evident she hadn't forgiven Alisa, maintaining civility only for the sake of family harmony. That was simply how things were. "Dad will be back from the library soon. Let's go to the living room," Walfit said, gently patting his sister's shoulder and leading her away from the corridor outside the kitchen. The two went to the living room and chatted casually in front of the television for quite a while until their father, Malvin, returned from the Boulder City Library. Even though today was a holiday, Malvin had grown accustomed to organizing documents at the library, spending entire days there whether on the clock or not. Seeing his daughter unexpectedly come home, Malvin's reaction wasn't as emotional as Guenis's. He merely murmured in pleasant surprise, repeating things like "You've grown," and "You're taller," his flustered, awkward demeanor coaxing giggles from everyone in the house. Dinner was finally served. It was only after sitting down at the dining table that Alisa learned from her mother that during her time away studying, her eldest brother had also traveled far, representing Boulder City Bank in Golden Gallon Port to establish branch operations. Thanks to his outstanding performance there, he had risen from an accountant to vice president of the Golden Gallon Port branch. Now that operations at the Golden Gallon Port branch had stabilized, Boulder City Bank headquarters had recalled him, preparing to dispatch him to the Bugra Free State to open new ventures and assist with local debt restructuring. And this time, he would take up the post as branch president. To its credit, Boulder City Bank hadn't held back her brother's promotions on account of his sensitive background. And her brother had reciprocated in kind, declining numerous olive branches extended by rival banks—even though jumping ship with such an impressive résumé might have offered even better prospects. According to Walfit, the citizens' faction had won a decisive victory in Bugra's civil war, trampling underfoot the "corpo dogs" who had once lorded over them. Unlike previous regimes, however, Audo hadn't immediately propped up a new company to replace the Flint Group. Instead, braving immense pressure, he enacted an antitrust law, banned unruly private militias, and systematically restored order where it had spun out of control. For Boulder City, this presented a fine opportunity for "revenge." Earlier, Bugra had taken advantage of Boulder City's turmoil to tear off a huge pound of flesh, and back then Boulder City could do nothing but swallow the bitter pill. Now the tables had turned; it was Boulder City's turn to collect on that debt with interest. Naturally, this had nothing to do with ordinary citizens there; it was directed mainly at the Flint Group and the scum who had looted the wealth of Boulder City's people when they were down. Those man-eating jackals were the common enemy of both Bugra's citizens and Boulder City's residents. No matter how glibly the Houses kept by those beasts wove their lies that sheep and wolves should unite, no one would listen to their nonsense anymore. Watching her brother's growth and seeing that spirited vigor return to his face brought Alisa profound relief. The journey had been fraught with twists and turns, but the outcome was not bad. Looking at the heartfelt smiles on her family's faces, she suddenly realized the chasm between them had melted away substantially. Even her sister-in-law, who had never looked her in the eye, softened her attitude somewhat. Time truly was a wondrous medicine. Without them realizing it, much of the guilt between them had dissipated. "Speaking of which... where's Jixiu?" she suddenly remembered her second brother. If only he were here too. At the mention of his brother's name, the vigor on Walfit's face dimmed slightly, replaced by a complicated look between his brows. "No idea. The guy vanished into thin air... I made inquiries, but nothing turned up. All I heard was that after leaving Boulder City, he headed east." At this point, he couldn't help muttering a low curse of exasperated frustration. "That cowardly idiot... God knows what went through his head." Seeing his mother's shoulders tremble slightly, Walfit abruptly realized he had spoken out of turn. Still, refusing to take the words back, he simply fell silent and averted his gaze. "Maybe he went back to Ideal City... Leave him be," Malvin mumbled, seemingly reluctant to dwell on his younger son's name. That was the only stain of shame the Malvin family had yet to wash away. Yet the boy was his own flesh and blood after all; he could not bring himself to utter harsh words against that rascal. If blame had to be laid, it could only fall on his own failure to raise him well. Walfit cleared his throat lightly, shifted his gaze to Alisa, and changed the subject. "By the way, what have you been up to lately?" "Me...?" Alisa blinked. Under her brother's stern gaze, her voice inadvertently dropped. "Aside from management courses, I've been helping my teacher compile historical documents... He said I have quite a talent for it." Walfit raised an eyebrow slightly. "And your teacher is?" Alisa answered honestly, "His name is Meng Jie." "Meng Jie..." Repeating the name, Walfit felt he had heard it somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it. Beside him, a flicker of surprise rose in their father Malvin's eyes. "Him?" "You know him?" Walfit looked at their father in surprise. "In a way. He visited me a few times and chatted about Boulder City's past..." Malvin looked at his daughter. "He was the former president of Mammoth University?" "Yes!" Alisa nodded, smiling a bit self-consciously. "He said I reminded him of an old acquaintance of his—someone much older than me, with greater strength and wisdom. In fact, he said that person was practically what I would be when I grew up. Maybe it was fate, but Professor Meng wanted me to compile the archives on him..." Though Alisa hadn't mentioned the man's name, this time Walfit seemed to catch on. "Was that man named Isher?" "Yes! How did you know?" Alisa stared at her brother in astonishment, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Brother, you knew him?" "Heh... You could say that. When I was working in Golden Gallon Port, I saw him in the papers a few times." Walfit curled his lip and let out a soft snort. "The only reason that fellow wasn't drawn and quartered and hung from the city walls to have his corpse flogged was that he died young." He had never seen a man luckier than him. Escaping by the skin of his teeth from the West Sail Port massacre, withdrawing unscathed from the Heavenly King's Rebellion—and withdrawing with everyone around him intact—and then trading blows back and forth with a host of seasoned Southern Legion veterans. That man's life had been like a cheat code, as if he were truly blessed by the Silver Moon Goddess. Even at the end of his life. Compared to Absaik's other subordinates, he had probably exited in the most dignified way possible. At least he died on the battlefield. Having reached this point, he looked at his dumbfounded sister and said, word by word: "Do you know? You came within a hair's breadth of ending up just like him." The atmosphere at the dining table suddenly chilled, plunging from one heavy topic straight into another. Seeing the sorrow on Alisa's face, Walfit's wife felt a twinge of pity. She squeezed her husband's hand under the table, rebuking him with her eyes for being too harsh. Alisa had grown up, but she was still a child after all... at least in her eyes. Walfit also realized he had said something he shouldn't have, even if he didn't believe he was in the wrong. Rather than chasing impractical ideals, the person she needed to protect most was herself. Even if she hated him for it, this was the one thing he would not take back. He didn't want to see her end up like that fool—burning down to ash like a matchstick, changing nothing in the end, having burned herself out in vain. "But... that sort of thing... didn't happen after all, did it?" Alisa lowered her head, murmuring sorrowfully. "Are you still dwelling on it?" The one she worried about most was her eldest brother—the man who would have sacrificed himself just to revive the family. She had already crossed her own crossroads; it was unlikely she would encounter such things again. But he was different. He was the family's firstborn son. If he still lived in the Boulder City of the past, that meaningless sense of duty and loyalty to the old order would drag him into hell sooner or later... "I'm not dwelling on it. I'm just worried about you." Walfit turned his face aside and said in a raspy voice, "You're too young, and so are those friends of yours. When I was in Golden Gallon Port, I saw too many compatriots from Boulder City. They came full of passion, eager to help the locals and replicate their success in Boulder City. And the result? Everyone intoxicated by victory got kicked in the ass and fell flat on their faces in every awkward posture imaginable... Of course, the ones who kicked them didn't meet good ends either. Bringing misery upon themselves served them right, and they have no one to blame but themselves." "I don't want to crush your dreams, but do fewer dangerous, foolish things from now on, and stay cautious if you must act... Remember, I am the future head of this house. I haven't been laid in a coffin yet." Malvin, the current head of the household, said nothing, clearly acquiescing to the statement. Pausing, Walfit spoke again, looking somewhat embarrassed. "And... my tone was uncalled for. About that... I apologize. I'm sorry." He was not one to admit fault easily; those words seemed to sap every ounce of his strength. Yet upon hearing them, a radiant smile bloomed across Alisa's face. She suddenly realized that the thorn stuck in her heart all this time had never truly existed. Her family had never truly hated her. They loved her more deeply than anyone else in this world... *** Outside the window, the wind and snow howled. Though there was no longer a blazing fireplace, the hot water pipes and radiators were by no means less warm. And perhaps because the room was smaller, Alisa suddenly realized her family sat much closer together. Just as the family was merrily celebrating their long-awaited reunion, the doorbell suddenly rang. "I'll get it!" Alisa hopped off her chair, padding to the door in her slippers. The moment she pulled it open, she found an unfamiliar girl standing on the porch. The girl wore a pale purple down coat and carried a modest travel bag. She looked to be about fifteen or sixteen, roughly Alisa's age, with fluffy blond hair and an innocent, youthful face. Unused to dealing with people, she instinctively dodged eye contact, afraid to meet anyone's gaze—even that of a peer her own age. There were occasionally students from the Free State at Camp 101, and most of them were like this. Noticing the decorative prosthetic tattoos on the side of her cheek, Alisa was almost certain she was from the Free State. Her only confusion was why she had come here. She didn't remember ever seeing this face before. "Are you looking for Mr. Walfit?" After thinking it over, only her eldest brother might know someone from the Free State. After all, he was about to take office there as president of the Boulder City Bank branch. The girl wore a blank look, shook her head hurriedly, and then—as if snapping to her senses—bowed deeply. Reaching into her coat, she produced a black box paired with several crumpled letters and thrust them against Alisa's chest. "...I'm sorry!" Crying out those words with desperate abandon, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for a scolding. Not only that— Her shoulders trembled faintly, as if fighting back overwhelming sorrow. Alisa stared at her in bewilderment. At first she was confused about what the girl was doing, but gradually, catching sight of the frost frozen onto the girl's eyelashes, she understood the weight of the box in her hands. Her fingertips trembling slightly, Alisa unfolded one of the letters, and sure enough, a familiar handwriting met her eyes... [Alisa, my sister...] [Please forgive your cowardly, useless brother for not apologizing to your face... Though I did think about it, by the time you read this letter, I am probably already dead.] [It's not that I never thought of washing away the sins I committed, but the family I most wanted to apologize to has long since departed this world.] [Looking back, that old man who pleaded with me to take responsibility for his daughter was perhaps the last chance the gods gave me... and my very last chance. Yet, obtuse as I was, I failed to see my own stupidity. Far from feeling any remorse, I tried to run from my guilt and thought myself clever by burning them to death.] [From that moment on, I became a demon. The one who truly destroyed the Malvin family was never you, but foolish, utterly wretched me.] [Even the collapse of Boulder City's Inner City had nothing to do with people kind and brave like you; it was the doing of countless demons like me who fell from grace.] [I had no face to confront them. I tried to seek answers out in the wasteland, but ended up merely drifting through life like a ghost, lacking even the courage to end myself.] [And so, repenting for my sins, I walked in the direction of Ideal City, fantasizing that if I made it there, it would mean the gods had forgiven my crimes. And if I didn't, it would save me the trouble of doing it myself.] [Ridiculous, isn't it? Unable to earn even the forgiveness of men, I still fantasized about receiving the forgiveness of gods. Perhaps my arrogance invited fate's retribution. Before I even made it out of Qingquan City, I crossed paths with a band of slaver gangs and was sold off to the notorious Bugra Free State.] [If hell exists in this world, that place surely counts as one. I thought perhaps that was fate's punishment for me, and that rotting away there would be fine.] [And just as I resigned myself to that thought, fate played another trick on me. A ray of light pierced into that pitch-black hell. A puppet controlled by demons suddenly shattered his chains and announced he would lead us in rebellion.] [That man was the Mayor of the Free State. Perhaps you've heard his name on the news... But the one I want to talk about isn't him, nor was I his soldier. I want to tell you about the girl standing before you named Lala.] [We met in a makeshift shelter near the combat zone, ordinary civilians caught up in the war. Her father was lying on a stretcher with his dying breath, entrusting her to me and begging me to take her away from that city.] [I don't know why he trusted a piece of trash like me, and I don't know where I found the courage to promise him... But in that single instant, it struck me that this might be my only chance, even if it wasn't anything earth-shattering.] [I had to take her out of that hell, at any cost...] [I don't pray for the gods' blessing to let me survive to the end. I only hope that the person handing you this letter is her, and not the Refugee Home or some other charity. Please, let this be my final prayer to the gods: allow this good-for-nothing to accomplish just one thing in the final moment of his life.] [—Your good-for-nothing bastard of a brother, the devil of Boulder City, the eternal shame of the Malvin family, Jixiu.] Alisa read to the very end of the letter. Tears fell unbidden, splashing onto the paper. Perhaps having braced herself for a scolding that never came, the girl raised her lowered head. Seeing Alisa heart-stricken with grief, she froze, and then, noticing where the tears struck the paper, blurted out: "He wasn't a piece of trash!" She had clearly read those letters. Every single one of them. Meeting the gaze of Alisa, who looked up in shock with tears glistening on her cheeks, the girl quickly looked away and continued in a raspy voice: "He told me he did a lot of awful things in the past... But the man I saw wasn't like that..." Biting her lip, she pressed on, "He fought so hard to live, and he could have lived... It was all to save me that he..." She would rather have died herself. She had no family left anyway, while he had so many waiting for him to come home... Without bothering to wipe her tears, Alisa tucked the box and letters into her pocket and pulled the sobbing girl into her arms. Only after a long while, when the girl's trembling had subsided, did Alisa say in a tender voice: "What is your name?" "...Lala." "Lala... thank you." Thank you? The girl's eyes widened, unable to fathom why this gentle sister would say such a thing. Looking into those bewildered eyes, Alisa resisted rubbing the grit from her eyes and looked earnestly at the girl. "My good-for-nothing brother... perhaps truly accomplished something magnificent. Please, in place of that worthless brother of mine, live well in this new world." Beholding that gentle smile, Lala began to weep once more, choked with tears as she threw herself into Alisa's embrace and wailed aloud. All the grievances and hardships borne along the road melted into the snow. "It's all right now..." Alisa patted her shoulder comfortingly and whispered softly into her ear: "You haven't eaten, have you? It's so cold outside, come inside and talk... By the way, could you tell me about him? Just take it as a selfish request from his sister. And if you have nowhere else to go, why not stay with me until winter passes?" "...Thank you." With grateful tears in her eyes, the girl nodded hard and timidly followed her into the house. Having lived her life in a concrete and steel jungle, she had never encountered anyone so kind. Had she actually... reached heaven? She had heard that during the Free State's civil war, the Wasteland Era had come to an end. Now, she was finally beginning to believe it. "You're welcome." Looking at the still self-conscious Lala, Alisa smiled gently and said softly, "Please make yourself at home." "If you don't mind, from now on, I am your family."