“Don’t you guys pay for doing these missions? Do we split it 50-50 if we succeed? You wouldn’t want to hog it all, right?”
Hearing this, 999 flicked its tail and rolled its eyes.
It wasn’t that vulgar. Besides, their world didn’t need money; in their realm, human currency was no good thing, as it tended to heavily trigger human greed and malicious thoughts.
Their Star Command even had a department specifically assigned to bind with hosts, preventing them from being swindled out of money and affection due to a soft heart or foolish romanticism.
Qin Zhen understood 999’s expression. He let out a pained tsk, shook his head lazily, and said, “But without money, it’s really hard for me to help you get things done.”
999 refused to bargain, using its mechanical voice to politely utter the most callous words.
[The host’s reward is rebirth. If you don’t want it, we can always take it back, oh.]
Recalling meant death.
Of course Qin Zhen didn’t want to die. He hadn’t lived enough in his past life; he hadn’t felt much while he was alive, but after dying, he realized there were still so many things he wanted to do that he hadn’t done yet.
After a few seconds of silence, he nodded as if reluctantly, “Fine, whatever, completing the mission is completing the mission.”
The car entered the highway toll booth and drove forward for a short distance. The road ahead grew increasingly pitch-black, with deep mountains and dense forests on the right-hand side, which was also the boundary line connecting to Huai City.
There weren’t many cars on the highway at past 3:00 AM, occasionally passing a large freight truck. The reflective strips erected on both sides barely guided the way forward. Scarcely had they driven for long when huge raindrops suddenly slammed against the windshield.
Qin Zhen’s heart skipped a beat, bringing a lingering sense of foreboding. His handsome facial features tightened slightly as he frowned.
He called out to 999. Reluctantly moving away from the energy pile with its tail still carrying a current, 999 flew up listlessly.
[Host, what is it again? We really don’t provide monetary services, you know. I can’t just conjure up money out of thin air either. If you keep obsessing over money like this, you’ll easily get bound by a malice system.]
“Ha, who wants your money?”
Qin Zhen hadn’t expected to leave such a poor first impression on 999. Glancing out of the corner of his eye at 999’s tail with his outer eye corners lifted, he asked, “So your tail is used for charging? I said you look like a charger—can it charge a cell phone?”
Charge what? This was for charging energy.
999 flicked its tail, blinked its eyes, and purposely said: [Not only can it charge a cell phone, it can also charge the host—the kind of charge that knocks you out cold. Does the host need it?]
This time, however, Qin Zhen didn’t answer.
His slender, deep peach-blossom eyes stared intently at a figure on the roadside in the distance.
That figure switched back and forth between clear and blurry amidst the left-to-right sliding of the windshield wipers, abruptly stirring up memories from Qin Zhen’s past life.
People are generally unwilling to fall into the same pit twice; repeating past mistakes is pure idiocy.
The rain was too heavy, and driving fast made it easy to skid. Even so, Qin Zhen stepped on the gas pedal, wanting to push the car speed as fast as possible to get away from that person.
Alas, his beat-up little car was never a good brand to begin with. Its power was poor, and after being driven through wind and rain for years, it was even worse. Several seconds after pressing the accelerator, there was no sign of acceleration.
Yet right at this moment, 999 suddenly turned ecstatic, its whole body glowing brightly as it issued a command.
[Beep, beep, beep…] [Redemption target detected. Please have the host start the mission as soon as possible; otherwise, the mission will fail, and life points will be reclaimed.]
“Damn it! We almost drove right past. Can’t you speak up a little earlier?”
Failing even before starting—where was there anything so extreme? Was it playing games with him?
Qin Zhen slammed on the brakes and turned on the hazard lights. The standing water on the road undoubtedly splashed all over the person on the side, but that person didn’t even look at him, continuing to walk alone.
There was an umbrella in the trunk, but the rear of the car was already dented in from a collision; whether it could even open now was a question.
Stopping on such a pitch-black highway was an easy way to cause an accident. Let’s hope they didn’t end up in a car crash and court death before the mission even started.
With complex emotions, drenched in the heavy downpour, Qin Zhen once again lamented how truly thin his fate was with the heavens. He quickly walked over to the person and reached out a hand.
“Get in the car. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
The man was soaked through, with several bloody holes visible through his tattered black shirt. In the dark night it was unclear, but roughly speaking, it looked like he had been shot a few times; surviving at all was a miracle.
Yet Qin Zhen knew those were just flesh wounds; only the knife wound in the lower-left abdomen was slightly deeper, though still not considered a critical injury.
Just like in his past life, they had inevitably returned to the starting point of their encounter.
Whether it was good or bad remained undecided.
Frowning, Shen Jin’an took a cautious step backward. Rain mixed with blood flowed down from his chest, and his excessively fair skin looked even paler in the cold rain. Because of his injuries, he clutched his abdomen with one hand, his slender upper body completely unable to stand straight. The voice he spoke with was somewhat weak, and his slightly upturned eyes held a fierce, terrifying hostility.
“Get lost!”
The corner of Qin Zhen’s mouth curled into an indifferent smile. He had long since prepared himself to be told to get lost; after all, pride was worthless. His tall figure stepped closer, forcefully pulling Shen Jin’an toward the car.
He didn’t know much about Shen Jin’an, only that this person had a paranoid, sensitive, and suspicious personality. If he wasn’t rushed to the hospital immediately, walking like this would cause him to bleed to death today even if the wound wasn’t fatal.
That in itself wasn’t much, but the problem was that if the other person died, he would kick the bucket today too. Going through all this futile tossing and turning would be worse than just lying down honestly and waiting for reincarnation.
Such a vain struggle would become entirely unnecessary.
Dragging him by the arm, Qin Zhen brought Shen Jin’an to the side of the car. Before he even had time to open the door, his entire body was suddenly pinned back against the car door. The distance between the two of them was extremely close, and Qin Zhen suddenly felt a chilling coldness against his neck. He could only stay frozen in place, thinking to himself how this guy was even crazier than in his past life.
The dagger in Shen Jin’an’s hand showed no mercy, and the way he looked at people was like someone who had just crawled out of hell—cold, vicious, and ruthless.
If one ignored that excessively stunning face, a spine-chilling situation like this would probably result in Shen Jin’an dying by the roadside without anyone paying him any mind.
And in his past life, Qin Zhen had been deceived by that handsome face. His own life wasn’t going particularly well either, yet he stubbornly brought such a hot potato home and took care of him for half a month.
Blame his bad luck and ill fortune.
What happened later… the past was too bitter to recall.
While he was inappropriately reminiscing about the past, Shen Jin’an had somehow already put away the dagger. With his thin lips pressed tightly together, he let out a sneer, “You can still let your mind wander with a knife pressed against your neck. You aren’t afraid of dying.”
“You’re about to bleed to death, yet you can still threaten others with a knife. You’ve got a pretty tough life too.”
Qin Zhen lowered his gaze, quietly staring at Shen Jin’an who was on the verge of collapsing. Suddenly, he let go of the hand supporting him, and then, not afraid of death, hooked the corners of his lips.
Thud.
True to form, Shen Jin’an lost his physical strength and dropped to his knees on the ground. A large expanse of cold sweat broke out across his fair temples, mixing with the raindrops as they slid down his pale neck and vanished into his clothes.
He tried several times to climb back up, but every time he gathered a breath, he collapsed back onto the ground. Each fall was heavier than the last, and a pool of blood quickly gathered on the ground, only to be instantly washed away by the torrential rain.
Shen Jin’an’s fingers clenched tightly, a sudden wave of despair assaulting the bottom of his heart. Yet after a few seconds, he suddenly raised his head and smiled.
It was somewhat eerie, and somewhat disheveled and pitiful.
One standing and one kneeling, the two stared at each other in the dark, rainy night for a few seconds before Shen Jin’an abruptly asked out of nowhere, “Do you think it’s better to be alive or to be dead?”