The Fishpond was much livelier at night than during the day. It wasn't until eleven o'clock that Fan Debao finally closed the glass door and hung up the "Closed" sign, officially ending the day's business once the last customer left.
The alley outside remained noisy with the clamor of people coming and going. It was a place that never slept.
"Sometimes we do business late at night—the kind that only happens in the dead of night."
Fan Debao watched over Gu He as he cleaned the bar, laying out the rules. "But not today."
Gu He's imagination instantly ran wild. Late-night business? Was it illegal...
He had served all sorts of customers today, gaining a deeper understanding of Liuguang City, the Kabukicho area, and Shuhui Street. His biggest takeaway boiled down to one word: illegal.
The city appeared to have laws and order, but in reality, from top to bottom, no one actually took them seriously.
Gu He felt a flash of self-pity. As a proper first-class law-abiding citizen who merely enjoyed chatting with female clients and collecting red envelopes, how had he wound up in the yakuza?
Looking at Old Fan's ferocious scowl, he didn't dare press him for details about the yakuza gang. It was better to wait until the man felt like talking.
Otherwise, who knew if it would trigger a "you know too much, so I have to kill you" scenario?
"Finish cleaning the bar, wash all the dishes, and go to bed early. Open up at six o'clock sharp tomorrow morning."
Fan Debao took off his apron and swapped his chef's uniform back for his old tracksuit. "I'm heading over to the Licai Club, so I won't be watching you. But consider yourself warned: even though we don't have security cameras in here, I'll know exactly if you slack off or mess around."
Gu He had already noticed during the day that there really were no cameras in the main room.
Miss Sakai had mentioned that if a place like the Fishpond installed junk like security cameras, no one would ever come.
Speaking of Miss Sakai, she still hadn't decided what kind of nose she was going to get, but she was absolutely determined to make it her signature feature.
"Keep your wits about you," Fan Debao said before heading out toward the Licai Club.
Faint sounds of singing, dancing, and laughter drifted through the metal door.
As the metal door clicked shut, Gu He was once again alone in the izakaya.
It was a prime opportunity to slack off, but considering he still had to finish the chores himself, and with everything going on...
Gu He roughly washed a basin of dishes in the kitchen before tiredly slumping back down at the bar. He poured himself some goji berry water, intending to catch his breath before taking a shower.
Earlier in the evening, Miss Ayane had sent over some clothes for him to change into.
From the jacket down to the underwear, every piece was brand new and quite tasteful.
Miss Ayane was truly good to him, but as the saying went, all the gifts bestowed by fate...
Gu He's thoughts and gaze wandered, taking in his quiet surroundings.
The television was off and the landline was silent. As for the antique computer in the kitchen, Old Fan treasured the thing. He had strictly forbidden Gu He from touching it, warning him it was best not even to look at it too closely.
The fabric curtains were a fiery red. The hanging paintings on the walls displayed an eclectic mix of everything from artistic calligraphy to religious symbols.
The streets outside were noisy. The crackle of malfunctioning neon lights, the rustle of curtains and lanterns swaying in the night breeze, the rummaging of homeless people scavenging for food in the trash and cursing at stray cats, the mysterious sounds echoing from dark corners...
Gu He snapped back to his senses and checked the Console in his mind. The program progress bar currently sat at an indigo-blue second tier 21%.
That page of Hero of a Thousand Faces sat in the database, and under the sharing tab, there was still a "Contact 1".
He was deep in thought when he suddenly heard a creak—the sound of a door opening.
Gu He looked toward the small corridor, but the shadows were empty. Neither the metal door nor the fire exit was open.
Had he imagined it? Confused, he turned his head back around—and froze. His mind went blank.
A figure was sitting in the chair right next to him. In the dim light, Gu He could clearly make out the person's face. It was a young man wearing a stunned expression. It was him—it was the exact face of his current body.
Staring at the figure was like looking into a mirror.
"You..." He opened his mouth to speak. His trembling hand accidentally knocked over the Thermos Cup next to him, spilling goji berry water all over the counter.
What the hell? A hallucination? But the puddle on the bar clearly reflected the figure as well. Was that part of the hallucination too?
"You..." the person mirrored, matching his tone and movements almost perfectly.
Gu He jerked to his feet and scrambled backward. The other person did exactly the same, scrambling backward in a display of inexplicable weirdness.
Breaking out in a cold sweat, he suddenly noticed the other person's facial bones and muscles twitching and warping unstably. For a brief second, it looked like someone else entirely—a woman, one who seemed vaguely familiar.
But when he stared closer, the face was entirely his own again.
Was this a human or a ghost? Real or an illusion? Was it his sub-personality!?
Gu He didn't dare make any sudden moves. He could feel the entity studying him, imitating him, copying even his slightest twitches.
"What are you?" he asked, trying to keep his blood pressure steady.
"What are you?" the other person asked, their voice echoing just half a beat behind his.
Gu He had quietly backed up until he hit the edge of the sofa. Either this was a hallucination caused by his sub-personality...
She couldn't wait to be fed, leaping out of his subconscious to cause trouble, learn from him, and devour him.
Or he was being haunted. There was a ghost in the Fishpond!
Between grabbing his Thermos Cup to fight and running away, Gu He decisively chose the latter.
Catching the entity off guard, he bolted toward the exit—only to suddenly remember that he wasn't allowed to leave the Fishpond. Doing so would bring its own severe consequences. He hastily spun around and stumbled toward the metal door in the small corridor.
"Old Fan! Miss Ayane! Help!"
He frantically pounded on the metal door. Bang, bang, bang!
But the music and dancing continued unabated on the other side. It seemed no one could hear the commotion.
Footsteps approached. Watching helplessly as the ghost walked toward him, Gu He screamed, "Don't come over here!"
The ghost stopped in its tracks. Wearing a look of utter terror, it waved its hands as if pounding on a door and yelled, "Don't come over here!"
...
"Is Miss Sakai going to scare Little He silly?" Ayane Kumiko asked Fan Debao with some concern.
The Actor Profession System's J grade program, "Mask." By playing the role of another person, the user could temporarily alter their facial features and body shape.
One of its effects was causing mental confusion in others, especially the person being imitated.
The purpose of this training exercise was to improve Gu He's tolerance for the terrifying and the bizarre, allowing his nerves to adapt.
"He should be glad he's only facing Three-Sentence Sakai."
Fan Debao watched coldly. "A clumsy Intermediate One-Programmer with Third Speed Tier talent. She can't make a name for herself in either the ordinary or the transcendent world. She's only good for testing and training newcomers; she can't handle the real thing."
"I said from the beginning that she was useless. She's clear proof of your poor judgment."
"Miss Sakai works very hard..." Ayane Kumiko sighed. "She's just a bit timid and suffers from low self-esteem. I started out as a local dog too, so I understand. As long as she can overcome that, I still believe she has great potential."
"If becoming a transcendent can't give her confidence, what will? Besides, hard work is the most useless trait in the world."
After Fan Debao finished expressing his disdain for Sakai Huaqing, he turned it onto Gu He.
"Look at that kid. He's on the verge of a breakdown. If he doesn't even have this tiny bit of courage and resilience, how is he supposed to be a DOLL? How is he going to work with others—those truly troublesome, dramatic, obnoxious bastards? Won't they just play him to death?"
"Ah, I just hope Little He can make it through this training. He really is a good person."
"Keep pampering him, then. I'll just wait and see which day you end up chopping this kid up too."
"I won't. Little He is different from someone like Bat, who needed to apologize with his life. I don't think he'll end up like that."