367: Chapter 367: The Allure of the Church’s Depths (Double-Length Chapter Please Subscribe, Bookmark, and Vote for Monthly Tickets) 367: Chapter 367: The Allure of the Church’s Depths (Double-Length Chapter Please Subscribe, Bookmark, and Vote for Monthly Tickets) The small truck drove through one grey alley after another, heading north, with such complex routes that even He Ao, with his Super mory, started to lose track.
In reality, the route shouldn’t have been so intricate, but the driver deliberately took so detours to shake off any possible tail.
Even so, the truck’s speed remained fast, constantly drifting in the narrow alleys, and soon arrived at its destination, a small pharmacy still lit up.
He Ao, feeling a bit dizzy from the rapid drive, steadied Sige and looked around.
The surrounding environnt was extrely dilapidated, with old buildings in disrepair everywhere.
The once-beautiful plaster on the old buildings had all but decayed, revealing pockmarked cent walls, and once-exquisite glass windows were now corroded and splotchy, with so houses’ windows completely shattered, haphazardly patched up with wooden boards.
“The houses here are basically sixty or seventy years old, already exceeding their design life expectancy, and there’s always a risk of collapse,”
the middle-aged man, his body a ss of blood and flesh, was helped up by others still strong enough to stand.
He looked at He Ao, who was observing the old buildings, and explained in a soft voice, “but the residents can’t afford new houses, so they make do, so have loans they haven’t finished paying, and others are tenants attracted by the low rent.”
“Mhm.”
He Ao retracted his gaze, and in the mont he looked away, he noticed an old, small church standing at the very end of the street behind the pharmacy.
The church doors were tightly closed, but the streetlights at its entrance were faintly lit.
Nevertheless, he did not probe any further.
He carried Sige and followed the burly n into the pharmacy.
It was only then that he realized the driver who had been driving all this ti had only one hand, and the other was rely a shoulder wrapped haphazardly, soaking through with blood.
He Ao had been sitting on the roof of the car all along; the driver had been in his blind spot.
The group made their way inside.
The pharmacy was not large, with a dazzling array of dicine cabinets packed with various unlabeled small dicine boxes.
At the very back of the pharmacy sat a lean man using an electromagnetic cooker to prepare so sort of drug.
Hearing the sound of footsteps, the man didn’t even turn his head as he said, “Aphrodisiac is on the shelf to your left as you enter, two hundred a bottle, take one pill thirty minutes before the act.
My dicine is reliable, can last all night, turning mud into granite, doesn’t matter if you want once or twice, even the wildest dancer from Milani would beg for rcy after trying.”
“Cough cough.”
The middle-aged man bloodied and mutilated, glanced at He Ao and coughed softly.
Nell was only eighteen, barely qualifying as a college freshman if he were attending school.
Although he was of age and had just demonstrated great prowess, those around him still treated him as Yvo’s little brother, as a child.
First impressions often influence one’s judgnt for a long ti.
Upon hearing the cough, the man preparing the drug turned his head around.
His cheeks were gaunt, his hair short and ssy, draped in a sowhat worn white shirt, but his eyes shone like pearls in the night.
He glanced at the injured and broken group, sighed, and slowly rose, “Why is it always you guys?”
For so reason, He Ao felt that this tone of voice was sowhat familiar.
“Have you used up all the life-saving drugs I gave you?”
The pharmacist, however, only lanted briefly before he started examining everyone’s injuries, “There’s not enough room for so many people here, after we stabilize, go to the church next door.”
“Right, right, all used up.”
The bloodied middle-aged man quickly replied.
“This life-saving dicine can only hang onto their lives, but whether they can be saved depends on their own luck,”
the pharmacist glanced at a few who were barely hanging on to life and softly shook his head, “These are troubleso,”
then he stopped in front of Yvo, whose consciousness was completely blurred, “This one might still be saved.”
He then pulled different types of drugs from the dicine cabinet, mixing them on the spot into a dicinal paste.
At this mont, Yvo’s consciousness was fuzzy, and he couldn’t swallow on his own, but the pharmacist didn’t seem to be preparing oral dication.
He produced a stand from nowhere, infused the dicinal paste into a bottle of glucose solution, and mixed it, hanging an intravenous drip for Yvo.
Then, without looking back, he went to attend to another person.
“Doctor, my brother…”
He Ao stood by, looking at Yvo and then at the pharmacist.
“I’m a pharmacist, not a doctor,”
the pharmacist looked up at He Ao, noticing a youthful figure before him, immature yet covered in blood, exuding a ferocity and madness that didn’t match his age.
He turned his attention back to the patient in front of him, “I’ve done all I can, whether your brother wakes up is up to him now.”
He Ao found a chair for Yvo, then settled in a corner, quietly waiting.
Yvo seed to be trapped in so sort of nightmare, his life slowly slipping away even with the assistance of dication.
“Dad, Mom?
Big brother?
Second sister?!!!
Fifth?
Don’t go, don’t go…”
Yvo’s hand suddenly grabbed the armrest of the chair, veins bulging on the back of his hand, “Nell, Nell is still here, I can’t go, I can’t leave!”
Crack—
The wooden armrest of the chair was pinched, leaving cracks, Yvo’s body stiffened, then he let out a long breath, his body softened, and he fell asleep again.
His life signs gradually stabilized.
“Lucky,” the Pharmacist circled behind He Ao and said, “This one wants to live.”
He Ao looked up at him.
“dicine can only save those who want to live,” the Pharmacist nudged his chin, gesturing for He Ao to look at those who were barely breathing, “It can’t save those who want to die.”
In this room, many had blood feuds with the Ice Wolf Gang and Vinc, with only themselves left in their families, completely alone.
Now that Vinc was dead, these people’s obsessions had vanished, they had nothing worth lingering for in this world, nor the need to linger.
He Ao just sighed softly and continued to watch Yvo, whose breathing was gradually becoming steady.
“A Transcendent?”
At this mont, the Pharmacist seed to have finished his tasks and had so free ti.
He looked at He Ao and asked softly.
“Yes,” He Ao nodded slightly and then asked, “Are you one too?”
The Pharmacist nodded and, without another word, continued to treat the other patients.
Watching his retreating figure, He Ao pondered.
The Pharmacist seed to care a lot about the title of Pharmacist; maybe his Talent Sequences were related to pharmacy.
Thinking about this, it seems Roger didn’t like to be called ‘Pharmacist’ but preferred the title ‘Doctor.’ His Talent Sequences might be related to ‘Doctor.’
Not all Talent Sequences are related to combat.
It wasn’t long before an elderly man wearing worn work clothes, with white hair and a face full of wrinkles, rushed to the pharmacy.
He led those whose injuries had stabilized to a small church next door.
He Ao watched the elderly man’s face, feeling it looked sowhat familiar but couldn’t recall whom it resembled at that mont.
Since Yvo’s injuries had also stabilized, He Ao followed the elderly man to the church.
The church door was locked; the elderly man took out the key and unlocked it.
The group entered the church, moved the chairs to the side, and the elderly man went through the right side door to take out simple bedding for everyone.
When everything was settled down, it was already past two in the morning.
Yvo’s breathing gradually stabilized.
The Pharmacist ca once to change the bandages and treat Yvo’s wounds, applying topical dicine.
He then said Yvo would probably wake up around eight or nine in the morning and told He Ao he could lay out bedding for himself to rest.
In the silence of the deep night, the moonlight was like water.
The patients in the church were mostly resting with their eyes closed, and the elderly man who had led He Ao and the others into the church was dozing off on the frontmost chair.
The elderly man was no longer young, spotted with a few pitch-black age spots.
He Ao sat down beside him.
“You’re Nell, right, Yvo’s brother?”
As soon as he sat down, the elderly man asked softly.
“Yes.”
He Ao nodded gently.
He began to recall where he had seen a face similar to the elderly man’s.
“Yvo is a good kid,” The elderly man glanced at Yvo lying in the middle of the church, moonlight shining through the window on the blood-stained gauze, “I rember the first ti he ca here two years ago, he was injured just like this.”
“Can you tell about it?”
He Ao spoke softly.
After disappearing two years earlier, Yvo had never returned ho again, and his family had no news of him.
The elderly man seed to know this too; he sighed softly and began to recount what had happened to Yvo.
The incident itself was not complicated.
Two years ago, after his father died in the mines, Yvo impulsively went to demand an explanation from the Mining Consortium but was stopped right at the entrance and never even entered the Consortium’s doors.
On his way ho, he was followed and severely injured by the Ice Wolf Gang; he fell unconscious and was sent directly to the crematorium under the guise of being a vagrant.
He was lucky; by the ti he was delivered to the crematorium, it was late at night, and the staff had left work, so he was simply placed in the morgue.
During the night in the morgue, he got up, staggered out of the crematorium, and eventually collapsed at the door of the pharmacist’s shop.
The pharmacist saved him.
It was there that he t people from the Miners’ Mutual Aid Association.
The mbers of this organization were all individuals who had been heavily oppressed by the Mining Consortium, or whose families had been killed by it, people who were irreconcilable with the Mining Consortium.
The leader of this organization was the very old foreman beside He Ao, known as the ‘Old Foreman.’
At first, the Old Foreman was not prepared to shelter Yvo; he knew Yvo still had family and urged Yvo to return to his original life.
But after a brush with death, Yvo realized that he could not fight against the Mining Consortium alone, so he firmly decided to join the Association.
By that ti, the Association was already wanted by the Mining Consortium, and joining ant never being able to return ho, otherwise, they might draw the Consortium’s attention to their own family mbers.
The Mining Consortium and the Ice Wolf Gang never abided by any morals; if taking family mbers hostage worked, they would do it without hesitation.
After that, Yvo ‘disappeared’ from his family’s lives.
After joining the Miners’ Mutual Aid Association, Yvo showed exceptional Talent during cha training, so the Old Foreman pulled so strings and spent money to send Yvo to the Federal Military Academy in Ains to learn cha piloting.
He was gone for nearly two years until a few days ago when the Old Foreman called him back.
“He was a good kid,”
The Old Foreman, looking at the cross in the church, sighed softly.
Indeed, the mbers of the Nell family all had similar characters, unwilling and unable to compromise.
The eldest brother compromised because of the burden to care for the whole family, overshadowing his own will; the second sister did so because she was insane, unable to make decisions based on sound logic.
The third brother, the fourth brother, and the fifth sister were actually all trying in their own ways to discover the truth and oppose the Mining Consortium.
Even Nell was the sa; he just never found the right channel.
From the very beginning, the fate of this family was sealed.
He Ao did not continue on this topic, instead, he looked at the Old Foreman and asked softly, “Do you know Locke?”
He finally connected the Old Foreman with soone he had vaguely seen before.
The man nad ‘Locke’ in the video of the mine massacre, the mine’s supervisor who had sympathized with the miners.
Upon hearing the question, the Old Foreman’s body stiffened, and with trembling hands, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and clenched it between his lips.
“That was my son.”
He Ao fell into silence.
He vaguely sensed sothing.
The Old Foreman seed not to have expected anyone to ask about ‘Locke.’
It had been a long ti since he had spoken about these matters; after a mont of silence, he began to narrate.
The story of Locke was actually quite simple; though he was a mine supervisor, he always had sympathy for the miners, detested the Consortium’s brutal suppression, and occasionally used his authority to protect miners who organized protests.
Under his protection, the mine had seen fewer deaths for a while.
But that didn’t last long.
His deeds were betrayed by a greedy miner, which led to his dismissal from the mine.
After losing his job, he was harassed by the banks under the Consortium’s control into debt, his only residence was maliciously undervalued, and with debts exceeding assets, he eventually jumped from the Consortium’s neighboring high-rise.
His wife, along with their children, left the city.
This happened ten years ago when the Mining Consortium still handled things in a ‘gentler’ manner.
At least he managed to keep his family safe.
Locke was the Old Foreman’s only child; after Locke jumped, the Old Foreman’s wife died of despair.
The Old Foreman had lost his will to live, but there were miners who Locke had helped in the past who often ca to visit and chat with the elderly man.
As ti passed, the elderly man gathered these people into a chat group, thinking of helping each other, and he gave himself the nickna ‘Old Foreman’.
Latter, he realized many in the group had lost family mbers to the Mining Consortium, and more and more people joined the group.
Then, they started to be suppressed, oppressed, and arrested by the Mining Consortium.
More people who couldn’t coexist with the Mining Consortium joined, eventually forming the Miners’ Mutual Aid Association we see today.
“An old widower without children, leading a group of lonely madn.”
The Old Foreman smoked one cigarette after another.
He Ao listened quietly to the Old Foreman’s story.
The Old Foreman had held it in for too long and needed a quiet Listener.
After finishing the tale, the Old Foreman slowly stood up, picked up the cigarette butts from the ground one by one and held them in his hand, “The bathroom is through the left side door, the chapel is open to wander, God loves all, but please keep quiet.”
Saying so, he slowly walked toward the right side door.
He Ao touched the dried blood on his face, glanced at Yvo sleeping soundly, and slowly got up, heading toward the left side door.
The light in the bathroom was dimly lit, He Ao turned on the tap, scooped up a handful of water, and scrubbed the bloodstains off his face.
At the sa ti, information swiftly flashed through his mind.
He realized he had fallen into a misconception; most of the videos on the storage chip given to him by his sister were about recent events, so were even dated from the last year or two, leading him to subconsciously believe that everything had occurred recently.
But Locke, the Old Foreman’s son, had died ten years ago.
That ant the video with Locke in it was from at least ten years ago.
His sister’s video was obtained from Vinc’s son, which might have been stored by Vinc himself.
Why would Vinc keep a video over ten years old on his computer?
And it was evident that the video had nothing to do with Vinc.
Did it have so special significance?
He Ao began to recall that video; indeed, it was the most unique, with others nad after dates or locations, but that one had neither date nor place, just a solitary ‘M’ as its na.
What did ‘M’ stand for?
Did Vinc really no longer care about the videos on the chip?
Possibly not, for if he truly didn’t care, he would not have ordered a citywide manhunt, sent people into the wilderness, or mobilized the Federal Bureau of Investigation to issue a warrant.
Paying off the communication consortium to enforce a substantial blockade on the video was just a last resort because they could not catch He Ao.
And Vinc alone surely couldn’t pull strings with the communication consortium; these major corporations spanning the entire Federation were each behemoths, and they were not easy to deal with.
It would take the entire Rock City Mining Consortium’s effort to do so.
They would also need the power of the Rock City city hall.
But could Vinc mobilize the full strength of the Rock City Mining Consortium?
He himself was already the target of an internal power struggle within the Mining Consortium, where forces were using others against him.
If He Ao were an enemy within the Mining Consortium, they certainly wouldn’t pay for Vinc’s mistake, and they might even heavily publicize it to completely overthrow Vinc.
Unless the content on the chip involved the entire Mining Consortium’s interests, compelling the internal powers to unite.
He Ao scooped up another handful of water and scrubbed his face again.
Actually, being blocked by the communication consortium was not an issue; when the forr Mayor of Dawn City, Wente, backed by the Nord Consortium and supported by the dical Monopoly Alliance, blocked a scandalous video, He Ao managed to expose his scandal anyway.
As long as one understood who the friends and enemies were, everything else was manageable.
He Ao looked up, gazing at himself in the bathroom mirror; the blood on his cheeks had been washed away, revealing a sowhat youthful face.
The cold moonlight stread through the glass, laying across the aisle of the chapel.
Just then, He Ao suddenly felt his heart throb.
He looked up toward the depths of the chapel.
Sothing was attracting him.
The last ti he felt such a pull was when he t the Dancing Girl in Dawn City.
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