CR CH63

Chapter 63: Fragments of the Truth

After emerging from the repair pod, his energy values needed to be observed for another night, so Jiang Tianji didn’t return to the dormitory.

The lights weren’t on in the ward, and faint moonlight drifted in, creating a peaceful space to sit and reflect on many things.

Ling Kongmiao’s eyes kept surfacing in his mind. When he had lost control, the scene before him was distorted and spinning, but when those blue eyes appeared, his gaze found a rope it could firmly hold onto.

The disappointment within them was like the sole spot of blood-red in a blue sea; with just one look, the resentment in his heart dissipated into thin air, leaving only helplessness and bewilderment.

The more he dug into it, the more puzzled he became, as if an important link was missing.

Those unusual occurrences that only he could see also required him to seek out the answers himself.

Jiang Tianji got up and walked over to the window. This position happened to offer a view of the back of the officers’ apartment building. He counted the floors and numbers in his head, slowly tracing his index finger upward to locate Ling Kongmiao’s room.

That window had a thin layer of gauze drawn over it, through which a soft light faintly seeped out.

Fumbling with the device in his hand, he opened the virtual interface to find the special team application.

“The deadline for this application is one month; you can fill it out at any time during this period.”

Ling Kongmiao’s cold voice echoed in his ears.

Without much hesitation, he filled in his information and submitted the application.

It wasn’t for a specific person or cause, but rather that when he was forced to make a choice, the answer just happened to appear.

The moment he chose to fight Liang Chong on the ring, he was already unable to return to the peaceful life of the past.

His desire to win was actually very strong; as long as he wanted to win, he possessed plenty of strength.

However, for a long period of time, he had lost that feeling, and now he was merely recovering a forgotten part of himself.

Jiang Tianji opened his communications, located a certain officer’s “private social account,” and sent a message.

Jiang: Officer, I’m sorry… Does your hand still hurt?

From the timing to the content of the message, it wasn’t quite appropriate. Jiang Tianji’s gaze rested calmly on the chat interface, waiting just like that.

Buzz buzz.

Soon, the device vibrated.

Ling: Speak.

Jiang: My application has been submitted.

Ling: Mm.

The colder he acted, the more intriguing that occasional bit of difference became.

Jiang Tianji thought for a moment and deleted the honorifics.

Jiang: What do you want to eat tomorrow?

After this sentence, the other side went quiet for a long while. Jiang Tianji looked up; Ling Kongmiao’s window was still lit.

Just when he thought the other party might not reply and was preparing to put away his device, a voice message suddenly popped up on the interface.

His finger hovered in the air for a moment before he clicked it open.

“I’m not so desperate as to let a frail patient worry about me. Mind your own business.”

Coldness aside, it was laced with mockery, and there seemed to be people talking beside him, making the background noise a bit chaotic.

The ward was very quiet, and when played through the speaker, many details were amplified. Jiang Tianji had actually felt early on that his timbre was quite nice—the indifferent and mocking tone had a real kick to it, but when it softened up, one always felt indulged.

He recalled the party before the grading, where Ling Kongmiao held him and sighed softly.

“What are you doing here?”

If he had truly been drunk that day and hadn’t heard that sound, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so impulsive.

But that sentence was overly gentle, far too unlike Captain Ling.

Not long ago in the dormitory, he had casually posed a hypothetical to his teammates. He had barely uttered “What if you drank too much and bumped into Captain Ling?” before his teammates stared at him with horror-stricken expressions.

Huang Qi subconsciously said: “Nonsense! Of course you’d say hello and run away as fast as you can!”

It was at that very instant that Jiang Tianji suddenly realized he didn’t seem quite right either.

Counting up the various subconscious actions he had taken, right at the top of the list was—praising someone’s pheromones for smelling nice.

Jiang Tianji remained silent for a long time, saying nothing more.

If he asked further, “What if one day Captain Ling suddenly asked you very gently what you were doing here?”, Huang Qi would probably actually try to find a way to get some sticky rice back to ward off ghosts.

This bit of specialness was like a fluffy tail poking into a crack, tempting him with the desire to see more. He knew full well the world outside the crack was fraught with danger, yet his body involuntarily drew closer.

Certain boundaries, when the attitudes of both people were vague, would turn into lane ropes that merely served to divide.

And in the eyes of outsiders, however the water sloshed on either side was considered normal; as long as that rope didn’t break, no one would find it strange. As for certain undercurrents, only the pushed water knew.

Jiang Tianji raised his hand to press the voice message button, saying something in a flat tone.

At this moment, in the living room of Ling Kongmiao’s dormitory:

The members of the Special Support Team 1 were holding a small meeting, serving as an informal debriefing.

Seeing that their captain seemed to be chatting with someone, the others didn’t ask further questions, except for Zhao Hengyi who leaned over clumsily.

“Boss, who’re you chatting with? What ‘frail patient’?”

Ling Kongmiao pushed away his approaching head: “No one. Continue.”

Right after he finished speaking, a voice message popped up on his device. Ling Kongmiao didn’t pay attention, his finger directly tapping it open. In an instant, the young man’s slightly low and raspy voice echoed through the room.

“My health is very good, Officer.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Zhao Hengyi remained thoroughly baffled.

“This voice… it’s Xiao Jiang, right? Why is he telling you his health is good?”

Ling Kongmiao’s movements paused for a moment as well. Putting away his device without replying to Zhao Hengyi’s question, he continued discussing the main topic.

The rest of the group bore varied expressions, keeping silent without a word.

Irene and Tang Min exchanged a silent glance, their gazes toward Ling Kongmiao carrying a bit more scrutiny.

Once the business was concluded, everyone filed out while yawning. Ling Kongmiao took a sip of water, glancing at Irene who remained seated without moving.

“Is something up?”

“I just suddenly feel like you’re a bit unfamiliar.”

“You know Jiang Tianji’s situation very well in your heart. Several A-rank team members have also shown signs of berserkification.”

“His mental power has a congenital flaw, but his combat talent is right here. Once he enters high-level combat units in the future, the higher-ups will definitely assign him a mental-system teammate.”

Irene pondered for a moment: “You won’t give him to anyone else, right?”

“You understand him very well, or rather… the real him. Your stealth ability lets you know his emotions like the back of your hand. Thinking carefully, it seems that right from the start, you’ve been using your own set of methods to provoke him, pushing him in one direction.”

“You didn’t give him a choice at all.”

Irene stared at the expression on his face, voicing her analysis.

“Wasn’t your psychiatrist license bought off the market?” Ling Kongmiao gave a half-smile. “I recall murder is your strong suit.”

“One of my strong suits, that’s all.” Not getting an answer, Irene’s brows furrowed even tighter. “It’s far less than what you’re capable of. Kids these days grow up fast; every time I feel I already understand you well, I turn around only to find you’ve already walked far away.”

“Looking at it occasionally, it makes my heart chill.”

Ling Kongmiao flexed his wrist: “Then look less.”

Irene stood up, resting her hands on the table: “A few hours ago, someone told me that when a single-choice question is given to two people, both of them are free. Are you sure?”

“Sure.” Ling Kongmiao raised his eyes to look at her. “Is there a problem?”

Hearing these words, Irene fell quiet for a moment.

“You’re also very clear that among his choices, there’s a mix of some interest in you, aren’t you?”

Ling Kongmiao didn’t deny it, lowering his eyes.

“Your Team 1 doesn’t have a large-scale phantom beast combat-system member who functions purely as a heavy attacker. You Li originally could, but his beast form is a Merfolk, which is only particularly good at maritime combat. Right from the start, you hoped he would join Special Support.”

“Yes.”

“When he lost control during the comprehensive mission, what did you feel?” Irene asked. “For a split second, I felt hatred coming from you.”

Being looked down upon by her like this, Ling Kongmiao leaned against the back of his chair.

“Your career history is truly rich—assassin, doctor, tavern owner… Turns out you were an interrogator too?”

“What about you then?”

Irene asked him in return. Seeing a cold light reflected in the depths of his eyes, she knew when to quit while she was ahead.

“Don’t be so vigilant. We just want to help you.”

Ling Kongmiao gazed at the ripples rising in the water glass from the movement, recalling the scene at the time.

Jiang Tianji had suddenly stopped struggling, his wildly thrashing energy weakening. That was the second time he had heard certain concrete words.

The shadow that had been lingering around Jiang Tianji shrank and twisted, rapidly losing its aggressiveness like a dying creature.

“Give up,” Ling Kongmiao said concisely.

Irene stated objectively: “It was normal to want to give up in that situation.”

“Anyone can give up, but he can’t.”

“He originally had the possibility of freedom.”

“He can’t dodge it. His talent will awaken one day.”

Hearing this, Ling Kongmiao suddenly smiled.

“Freedom? I once had that kind of naive thought too.”

He saw Irene’s expression change slightly.

“During those two years when I was punished and sent to the Interstellar Fortress, I felt a sigh of relief in my heart. At the happiest times, I felt I could truly stay away from all of this. But that disaster told me that no one can escape ‘accidents’.”

“Do you know why I’m able to sit here today? Because at the very beginning, someone told me.”

Ling Kongmiao’s tone was no longer flat, laced with many complex emotions that Irene couldn’t understand.

“Flowers by the roadside are easily snapped; pretty ones even more so. So you have to grow your own thorns.”

“I never thought about fighting back. I only wanted to peacefully be a flower. Whether picked away or trampled on, I’d just consider it my bad luck. I was merely a flower without any offensive capability, nothing more.”

The memory was already blurred and dim yellow; the boy’s voice was frantic and annoyed.

“I just don’t get it, why give up? If you never admit defeat, there’s a chance you can win!”

Directly following that was a serious promise.

“By the time these scars disappear, we’ll both be happy.”

Ling Kongmiao said to Irene, whose face showed a touch of emotion.

“You think he’s naive, don’t you?” Ling Kongmiao smiled gently. “He was indeed cute when he was little, very righteous.”

“But others stayed away from him not because of his personality, but because he forgot a part of what happened.”

“Losing control.” Ling Kongmiao tapped his head. “He caused an accident after losing control. The news at the scene was blockaded; those kids who caused him to lose control were urgently sent to the hospital and subsequently handled their withdrawals from school quietly. He’s the only one who doesn’t know about this matter.”

“All along, his intuition has been right. His feeling that this world is fake and frightening isn’t an illusion.”

“Because his ‘shadow’ is alive. That part was born for battle and destruction.”

“His mental domain isn’t collapsing; it’s returning to the state it was originally supposed to be in. This defect is a lingering sequela of a certain experiment, as well as a hereditary trait.”

Irene’s complexion turned unsightly. Taking a step back to lean against the sofa, she stared at Ling Kongmiao’s calm expression, a series of chills rising from the bottom of her heart.

“I told you, he has no choice.”