The surgery lasted about ten hours. While the man felt no pain, his nerve reflexes were still active.

In the circular chamber, he unleashed a terrifying burst of strength, instinctively breaking free of the restraints, only to inflict gruesome new wounds upon himself.

As a result, Chu Zu had to spend a little more time recuperating in the treatment pod.

By the time he left the operating room, it was already late the following afternoon.

Chu Zu did not rush to start Luciano’s tasks. He first went to the Esposito Medical Division to pick up Dai Xi’an.

Dai Xi’an’s injuries were severe. She had been stripped of all her teeth, her ribs were fractured, and her internal organs were damaged, and both tibias were snapped across.

Esposito wouldn’t use cyborg components until they had the access code from Tang Qi. The treatment, which could have been completed quickly with mechanical organ replacement, relied solely on the treatment pod and nanobots, taking no less time than Chu Zu’s own surgery.

It was an agonizing process verging on torture.

When Chu Zu collected her, Dai Xi’an was physically intact but completely unable to stand from the wheelchair.

Dressed only in a loose white gown, without makeup, Dai Xi’an’s eyes were unfocused and scattered, and she trembled all over, appearing far younger than her biometric age suggested.

Chu Zu walked around behind her, taking the handles of the wheelchair from the nurse.

“Let’s go home.”

You have no home, the system reminded him again. Are you taking Dai Xi’an to the Esposito estate?

Chu Zu shrugged the thought away. “Does Dai Xi’an own property in the Upper District?”

System: “Several places.”

“They’re mine now.” Chu Zu instructed the system to choose the one with the best environment, pulled up the location, and began pushing the wheelchair forward along the sidewalk without taking a car.

They arrived near dusk. The sun had long been swallowed by the towering architecture, but for this brief moment, the neon lights couldn’t quite pollute the last vestiges of golden light.

The address the system chose was a very conventional residence, complete with full amenities, the kind of place where a middle-class Upper District citizen could put down a deposit after decades of work, then spend several more decades paying off the mortgage.

Given that the property title was over a hundred years old, one could call it a decent deal.

This was the busiest time for foot traffic. Dai Xi’an, tear stains still visible on her face, stared blankly into the direction of the setting sun through the crowd.

A synthetic human assigned to the community politely stepped forward, offering concern. “Ma’am, do you need any assistance?”

“No.” Using the system’s foundational code, Chu Zu unlocked the door in a couple of moves and pushed Dai Xi’an inside.

His ear bone vibrated twice; it was a message from the butler, Jeeves, listing a dozen tasks Luciano had assigned to him.

Chu Zu ignored it. He turned on the lights, lifted Dai Xi’an onto the sofa, and then went to the study to rummage for a notepad and a pen before sitting down across from her.

You can go to Tang Qi. Chu Zu’s implant had an audio monitoring function, so he wrote this on the paper.

Dai Xi’an clutched the notepad, hugging it to her chest, her lips trembling before she finally spoke.

“You will die.”

“Everyone dies.”

“What is it you want?”

“What Luciano promised me.”

Trembling, Dai Xi’an took the pen from Chu Zu’s hand and scrawled a line on the notepad.

Do you want to become Luciano?

The man sat upright, his fingers naturally relaxed, though they occasionally curled and twitched involuntarily due to the recent surgery. Dai Xi’an wasn’t sure what expression he wore when confronting Luciano, but it certainly wasn’t this.

His eyes were completely unfocused, not looking at the words on the paper, not looking at Dai Xi’an; his gaze held none of these things that were insignificant to him.

Under Dai Xi’an’s watch, Chu Zu abruptly curled his lips into a smile.

In that instant, the man underwent a fundamental transformation.

The person sitting before Dai Xi’an was completely different. That face was dominated by a faint smile, and the wisps of crimson floating in the depths of his pupils carried a terrifying, breathtaking splendor. No one could tear their eyes away from his gaze; it felt as though their very soul was about to be swallowed.

Dai Xi’an couldn’t connect his expression with the word “smile.” She saw no joy, nor the usual derision Luciano often displayed.

He didn’t even seem to understand what a “smile” was; he simply felt he should smile now, so he did, using it as an answer to the question on the paper.

Whether the answer was yes or no no longer mattered; he had demonstrated his intent.

Dai Xi’an began to lose focus again, her pale face frozen like a statue. The room temperature was kept at a comfortable level, but she only felt cold.

Should she go to Tang Qi?

Luciano would never allow the information broker to side with anyone but him, yet Chu Zu was a man of his word. The promise he just made was instantly redeemable, even though he himself was walking a razor wire.

If he said she could go to Tang Qi, then she would certainly reach the Lower District alive.

Dai Xi’an deeply believed this.

She still felt cold.

Dai Xi’an knew exactly what Lu Xiann’uo had promised Chu Zu.

Food, sunlight, all the best things.

Damn it, did Luciano even know what he was promising?

What Luciano desired, Tang Qi also desired. They fought for their own narrow ambition or for a noble banner.

But in the treacherous realm of power, only one person can wear the crown and enter immortality.

Wasn’t that the very best thing?

What chilled Dai Xi’an to the bone wasn’t Chu Zu’s perfectly hidden desire, nor the terror that this desire had actively revealed itself to her multiple times.

It was the unfeigned purity of Chu Zu’s motivation.

Chu Zu understood what Luciano was doing, and he understood Tang Qi’s demands. He could distinguish between the worldly concepts of right and wrong, but none of them had anything to do with him.

Since the age of twelve, Chu Zu had been promised the best things, and he only needed to remember that.

And recently, Chu Zu had finally realized that Luciano would never keep his promise and give him “the best things.”

Then he would take them himself.

A buzzing sound that had persisted in her mind since the start of her treatment suddenly grew louder. Dai Xi’an knew this was just a side effect of her strained nerves, which even the medical instrument couldn’t fix.

She nearly tumbled off the sofa, but Chu Zu steadied her.

Dai Xi’an pushed him away in panic, as if the man were a more terrifying existence than the despair and pain-inducing Luciano.

When the hand left her shoulder, the residual warmth on Dai Xi’an’s body gradually vanished into the air.

“I have work.” Chu Zu rose, looking down at Dai Xi’an like the master of the house. “See you later.”

Dai Xi’an sat on the sofa all night long.

At seven-thirty the next morning, the community began playing nerve-soothing music. The sound slipped in through the crack of the open door, then faded as the door closed.

The man who returned was in the same clothes he had left in, though his cuffs were dusted with ash and his hair was slightly damp.

He paid no attention to Dai Xi’an on the sofa, going straight to the bathroom. The sound of running water started and quickly stopped, and the faint scent of rust that had been lingering became impossible to ignore.

Emerging from the bathroom, Chu Zu pulled a newly bought shirt over his body.

Dai Xi’an observed him. He still looked mostly normal, though occasionally she caught a glimpse of seven or eight specialized medical tape patches under his shirt.

Chu Zu tucked the shirt into his pants, completely concealing his wounds.

“Have you made up your mind?” Chu Zu asked.

“You will die,” Dai Xi’an’s voice was hoarse.

“Everyone dies,” Chu Zu repeated.

“I don’t want to die.” Dai Xi’an dug her fingers into her palms.

The woman wore no makeup, her face transparently pale. Upon closer inspection, fine wrinkles were finally visible at the corners of her eyes.

She couldn’t recall ever saying that aloud to anyone. To those in the Lower District, it would sound ridiculous; those in the Upper District might offer superficial comfort, leaving Dai Xi’an with only awkwardness and humiliation.

“Lucy needs the code.” Chu Zu pulled up the house’s smart butler service and booked two servings of breakfast. “Get the code from Tang Qi, and you won’t die.”

“You already helped him get Mitolli’s technology. If he gets the Tang family’s code, the entire Upper District will become his toy. You and I will both be useless.”

“At least you’ll live until then.”

“What about you?”

“None of your concern.”

Dai Xi’an felt she had absolutely nothing to discuss with Chu Zu.

He really was a cold, smelly lump of black iron unconcerned with human emotion, his phrasing clipped, driving straight to the heart of the topic. Once he expressed his view, he said no more, too lazy to add another word.

Dai Xi’an suddenly wanted to cast aside all caution, ignoring whether Luciano was listening, and just say: Didn’t you save me because you wanted me to stand on your side?

Didn’t you reveal your desires to me because you wanted to add one more doomed soul to your lonely, perilous path?

Then why the sour look?

“I can’t get the code,” Dai Xi’an said. “Tang Qi is a pathological idealist. He’ll die for his ideals without batting an eye, and he’ll watch others die for them too. Even if Luciano threatens him with the entire Lower District, he won’t hand over the code. He’ll simply ensure mutual destruction; he’ll make whoever shatters his ideal pay the price.”

Chu Zu glanced at her more closely. “Your evaluation of Tang Qi is not high.”

“My evaluation of Luciano is worse,” Dai Xi’an laughed bitterly. “I am neither Upper District nor Lower District. The teacher who put me on this path was sold out by me; the person who saved me was killed by me. When you said ‘go home,’ I couldn’t think of a single home I could return to. There is no role more marginalized in this world than an information broker.”

“There is,” Chu Zu considered. “Do you think I am Upper District, or Lower District?”

Dai Xi’an: “…”

“And I don’t care,” Chu Zu murmured. “Except for what Lucy  promised me, I care about nothing else.”

“He… might not be willing.”

“I know.” Chu Zu nodded calmly. “I had the surgery; I became one of his toys. Lucy doesn’t need to give his toys anything, but I expect him to keep his word.”

“You make me feel terrified,” Dai Xi’an said softly.

Only after the words left her mouth did she remember that she shouldn’t reveal her inner thoughts. Chu Zu not having a temper didn’t mean he was good-tempered, and they were chatting under Luciano’s surveillance; she shouldn’t say anything that would arouse suspicion.

Chu Zu was flawless in his execution, but she couldn’t match him.

The moment she realized that Chu Zu’s MO was to pay a price first, then forcibly claim a reward, she remembered their conversation on the train and suddenly realized that she had been put in the same position as Luciano.

Who was she to deserve that?

Chu Zu was even more lenient with her than Luciano, offering her an alternative: Do you want to go to Tang Qi?

Dai Xi’an fell silent, turning her head to look out the window.

The morning light bathed the Upper District in a warm glow. The community released artificial birds to create the people’s idea of a sunrise, floating vehicles docked at designated stations, and the teachers responsible for school pick-ups were all synthetic humans.

In fact, a minority of the children lining up for the vehicles were also synthetic. Parents without children could pay to customize their own, with parameters detailed down to the angle of the child’s smile when they pleaded for affection.

Synthetic children wouldn’t grow up; once they reached the age they should have matured, the parents would have to consider customizing the next child.

How meaningless. Dai Xi’an thought. What difference is there between marginal people like us and those synthetic humans?

Functional roles. Appearing when useful, waiting to be disposed of when not.

She thought again of her past self, navigating between both sides, always smiling and joking.

After being captured by Luciano’s people, she was forced to watch her own torture in a mirror, her teeth pulled out one by one, her head bobbing in a sewer.

Back then, she thought, If I die, I die. Just like the teacher she betrayed, just like those decommissioned synthetic humans. She had tried her best. If she couldn’t survive, well, it wasn’t shameful.

But Chu Zu’s cursed promise was now playing tricks in her mind.

I don’t want to die.

If Chu Zu could make Dai Xi’an suddenly have that thought, wasn’t he terrifying?

Dai Xi’an stared at the man. After a long silence, she finally heard her own voice, distant and unfamiliar. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chu Zu simply “Hmm’d.”

The kitchen’s automated appliance signaled that breakfast was ready: highly concentrated nutrient fluid, 3D-printed bread, and synthetic protein bars.

Chu Zu went to the kitchen to fetch the trays; Dai Xi’an went to the bathroom to wash up.

She noticed the waste bin nearby, filled with bloody tissues and disposable syringes. She thought for a moment, then went to the living room to find the notepad.

Chu Zu handed Dai Xi’an the cutlery; Dai Xi’an returned it with something she had written:

[Lower District Eighteen, Sidney, Luciano’s illegitimate son]. Luciano himself couldn’t count the number of people he’d slept with, but his safety measures were always thorough.

He was the Esposito who most hated the concept of heirs; the cold, two-headed serpent needed no other bloodline to share his power, not even his own flesh and blood.

Chu Zu read it without a change in expression, silently tore up the paper, and scattered the pieces into the nutrient fluid in front of him.

Dai Xi’an also gently tore up the sentence she had written earlier and dropped the shreds into her own cup.

They clinked their cups together with a silent understanding.

The secret was swallowed into the esophagus, down into the stomach, waiting to be fully dissolved by stomach acid.

“I will leave for work at four this afternoon,” Chu Zu said. “Is there anything you need me to bring back?”

Dai Xi’an shook her head. “What you’ve given me is already enough.”