Chapter Twenty-Five: The Mission and Me
“Is this an organization?”
“No. Just a platform.”
He gazed at Chen Qing, his expression shifting. “A platform for distributing, assigning, and accepting backstage information, trading wondrous items and intelligence.”
He paused, seeming a bit weary. “Do you know… what is the most valuable thing on this platform?”
Chen Qing was silent for a moment. “Knowledge.”
He gave a surprised chuckle. “You’re more perceptive than I thought... I have a task I need your help with.”
Chen Qing tapped his chin, thinking quietly for a while. “Did you create this backstage?”
He smiled, a trace of pride in his eyes. “Create? No one in this world can single-handedly make a backstage, nor can anyone alter it. This is a depiction of a backstage where I once escaped death... The contents are taken from a containment object that made my name.”
The dried corpse paused, his tone almost tempting. “If you agree to my request... this containment object will be yours.”
Chen Qing shook his head and pressed on. “Before I accept the task… you need to show me the description. At the very least, you must clarify some things for me. Otherwise? Ha.”
He looked at the corpse, continuing, “First: since this backstage isn’t complete, does that mean all backstages are only a single layer, and what I did entering the pipe was wrong?”
He smiled as if he wanted to shake his head, but the skin around his neck was desiccated. After a brittle sound, he switched to words. “No… in fact, most backstages have several layers. I think you already know, the more rules a backstage has, the more likely those rules will contradict each other, and the more problems arise.”
Chen Qing muttered inwardly: I know nothing.
“There are some backstages, for various reasons: someone used a containment object inside, an investigator died within, or perhaps an investigator lost themselves. Many reasons can cause a backstage to generate new entities and rules. But what emerges… may be contradictory, and so they gradually split, becoming layers nested within layers.”
“And here…”
“This place is… after my death, or perhaps while I was still alive, a backstage created using a containment object.”
Chen Qing was taken aback, frowning at him. “You can create a backstage alone?”
“False.” He shook his head. “Mostly false. I need someone to help me seek revenge… and that person can’t be some random nobody… at least, they must be a somewhat prominent investigator…”
Chen Qing was silent for a while, then asked, “You keep mentioning investigators… what exactly are they?”
He seemed pleased, his tone brightening. “People like you, those who investigate supernatural forces and extraordinary phenomena.”
Chen Qing frowned. “You know that’s not what I’m asking.”
“When there are enough of these people, information starts to circulate. To ensure fairness and equal value in these exchanges, someone steps in as an intermediary. As this intermediary grows stronger, an organizational structure forms.”
“That’s the… nightclub you mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“How many secrets do they hold?”
“No one knows. Perhaps not even one.”
“How is that possible?”
“What if their secrets themselves are part of a containment object’s conditions? Or trades completed using containment objects?”
---
Chen Qing nodded after a moment’s silence.
“In my lifetime… I completed a task, but the problem is, I never returned to submit it. The reward for that task is what I’m offering you as payment.”
Chen Qing sounded surprised, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll take the goods and not do the work?”
The dry corpse’s lips curled, seeming disdainful.
“Back to the topic… the nightclub is transcendent in status, you can trust them. At least, in the era when I was alive.”
“So what do you actually want me to do?” Chen Qing couldn’t restrain himself, asking bluntly.
“Do you have a code name?” He looked at Chen Qing and asked again.
“Call me by my real name.”
“Aren’t you afraid of exposing yourself?”
“And are you certain this identity is genuine?”
He smiled strangely. “Yes… yes, that’s true.” His hoarse, dry laugh grated until his abdomen split open, and then he finally stopped.
“You certainly aren’t real…”
“What do you mean?” He stared at the corpse, a sense of foreboding rising.
“I trust you… Let me tell you the reward for completing the task.” He paused, then continued, “A B-class containment object, numbered 1930, with several C-class derivative items, numbered 1930-1. And a glass of the deceased’s last breath.”
He panted, resting for a while before continuing, “When you return to the nightclub, you can claim the final item. Complete my request, and you’ll get the B-class containment object I mentioned. The derivative items will serve as your deposit.”
He spoke softly, clearly exhausted.
Chen Qing frowned, also sensing his poor condition.
“Have you heard of an organization founded by seven people, who are continually searching for information about their founders?”
“Oh… maybe you mean the Union of Concord… I don’t remember… don’t remember.”
He closed his eyes, whispering in a low voice, “Find them… complete the task I never submitted.”
“Find him, kill him, his head will be my gift to you…”
“Find her… take care of her for me…”
Chen Qing watched him. The dry hand moved twice.
Beneath his hand appeared a small booklet, and under the booklet, a slightly smaller lens.
“Can you still control this backstage?”
“I… never could…”
“And those who were separated?”
“I can send them back…”
“Can you let one stay?”
He paused, then smiled. “You are you. That’s truly you, you’ve never changed.”
“So you do know me.”
“But I…” He was interrupted before finishing.
“But you’re only ten, maybe a few decades old?”
They locked eyes, and Chen Qing’s expression turned serious.
“Go now… take the documents and leave.”
He spoke softly, the pale blue flame in his eyes gradually extinguishing. Chen Qing saw the environment fade, those pale yellow walls receding, until all the sights in his eyes vanished.
---
When only the letter remained before his eyes, he picked it up.
He looked at the letter in his hand, which contained all the words left unsaid. He opened it and saw what lay beneath.
There, nestled under the letter, was a fresh, warm ear.
He slipped it into his pocket, and all else vanished from his sight.
When he opened his eyes again, Jiang Wan was already standing before him.
“You’re back?! You scared me to death! I thought—”
He smiled, taking out a mirror from his coat.
“For you.” He smiled, handing her the mirror.
“What is this?”
“A C-class legacy item, Dawn of Yin and Yang.”
She was stunned for a moment, her fingertips trembling as she accepted it.
“How do I use it?”
“You’ll know.” He smiled. Jiang Wan’s face froze, as a flood of information rushed into her mind.
“Number 1900 legacy item…” She paused, then continued, “It needs to reflect ten different people each day, and the conditions double after use. After using it, you can split part of your consciousness to form another self.”
Jiang Wan hesitated, frowning. “Maybe… you need this more than I do.”
Chen Qing shook his head and retorted, “I have others. A mirror is more fitting for girls.”
She was silent for a moment, then smiled and nodded, “About its usage conditions… do you have any ideas?”
“Usage conditions?” Chen Qing curled his lip, clearly disdainful. “That counts as a condition? Hang it on your front door and you’ll satisfy it.”
Jiang Wan was silent for a moment. “This thing is dangerous.”
“Can’t you add a safe to your front door?”
“You—”
She laughed, pulling Chen Qing up from the ground.
...
“Yes… yes, my daughter has recovered, and the ghost that appeared at home is gone.”
“That’s good, glad she’s better. Please send my regards to Zhang Lan.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll have her call you when she wakes up!”
...
“The students all seem to have fallen asleep; today, no one went to school at Fourth High! What did you do?!”
“Oh? That’s good, that’s good. Give it a day or two and they’ll wake up.”
“Hey! Hey?”
...
He hung up, took out the envelope, and lay on the bed, his thoughts drifting ever further.
“Who… am I really?”