Bursting Tomato 10

Once the two men had gone inside, Atmore immediately pulled a hood from his pocket and put it on, covering everything above his neck with black cloth, leaving only his eyes exposed.

Yan Xianchuan watched as he climbed up to the second floor along a drainpipe like a gecko, crouching on the wall outside to peer in. She couldn't help but ask, "Is there no surveillance outside?"

Lu Mingqiu glanced over. "They're probably too confident, thinking no one would dare to cause them trouble."

"So we don't make a move," Yan Xianchuan suddenly said.

Lu Mingqiu, of course, caught her meaning again—her craving for killing.

Such frequent bloodlust—how had she satisfied it in the past?

Her deep black pupils were like two tiny black holes, absorbing all light. Ignoring Atmore's real-time reports in her earpiece, Lu Mingqiu said, "You heard him too—he said he'd do it alone."

"Yeah, yeah, respect the individual's wishes," Yan Xianchuan grumbled quietly, her face falling. "I'm just too polite."

"You truly are the most morally upright person I know," Lu Mingqiu said with sincerity.

"Really?" Yan Xianchuan brightened instantly.

"Really. Do I look like someone who would lie to you?" Lu Mingqiu asked.

"Hmm... yes," Yan Xianchuan said. "You're a very good liar. Very good." She nodded approvingly at her own assessment.

Atmore said over the comms, "That shameless doctor went to get the chip—I'm moving now!"

Amid the sound of shattering glass and suppressed gunfire, Lu Mingqiu turned to gaze into the other's eyes. "Then from today, I hope we can make a pact—no more lies to each other."

"I swear every word I say is the truth," she said. "Our identities bind us together, so getting along well is all the more important. So, what do you say? Will you agree?"

"Sure," Yan Xianchuan blinked. "I love honesty."

"Perfect, I have a question to ask you—"

"Done!" Atmore's slightly breathless voice came through again.

He had jumped from the second-floor window, landed directly on someone, clearly hearing the crack of bones, then rolled aside to dodge bullets, fired back, and finally put down the black-market doctor with a single shot. The whole sequence was fluid, like something out of a movie.

Xiaolin lay on the operating table. He dashed over in a few strides, shut down the machines, pulled off all the tangled wires and tubes attached to her, and carried her unconscious body out of there.

He was pleased with his flawless operation—having shown off his connections and his combat skills—until he saw the two senior operatives he'd specially called in standing face-to-face in conversation, neither of them looking at him.

Atmore: …

Atmore: "Hello? Operation's over."

He shifted his gaze from one person to the other, and saw the one who rarely spoke glance at him. Somehow, Atmore felt a creeping unease and took a step back.

The other one turned her head then, saying in a gentle tone, "Well done. We should get going—she looks like she needs a good rest."

Atmore let out a sigh of relief. Wait, why am I relieved? He thought for a moment but couldn't figure it out. Time was short, though—the prosthetic doctor's assistant would report to Old Man once he returned, and backup would arrive soon. Their priority now was to leave.

"My car's up ahead," he said, and took off running with Xiaolin in his arms.

Yan Xianchuan and the others followed behind to the prearranged spot. Atmore pulled open the side door of a black van parked at the curb and laid Xiaolin in the back seat.

The vehicle had only two rows of seats with four spots total. Lu Mingqiu took the passenger seat, since Yan Xianchuan preferred the back on their drives.

Xiaolin was a woman with delicate features. Sweat had dampened her hair, strands clinging to her temples. Her face was relatively clean, but a trace of blood remained at the edge of her nostril—someone must have wiped it hastily. No visible wounds anywhere, but her complexion was as pale as transparent.

As the car started, her body, leaning against the seatback, slumped sideways. Right before she could touch Yan Xianchuan, Yan shoved her back with a hand at the exact moment they hit a speed bump. The van jolted, and Xiaolin's head knocked against the window with a loud thump.

The two in front turned back simultaneously—one worried for Xiaolin, the other worried that Yan Xianchuan might cause trouble.

Yan Xianchuan raised her eyebrows slightly, letting the outer ends droop, striking an innocent puppy-dog pose, and shot back, "Hm? What's wrong?"

Atmore's expression was a mess of complex emotions. He'd seen it all in the rearview mirror.

But Xiaolin had no connection to them. It was wrong to expect a stranger to look after his friend. "The seat can recline—there's a lever on the side. Could you please fold it down and let Xiaolin lie flat? That way, no one outside can see her."

"No problem." Yan Xianchuan reached out, lowered the backrest, and Xiaolin lay flat, her face no longer pressed against the window.

Lu Mingqiu shot her an appreciative smile.

Yan Xianchuan returned a calm, easy smile.

The van eventually stopped beneath the two-story building they'd been to before. Atmore carried Xiaolin upstairs. After a while, her eyelids fluttered, opened slowly, and once the double vision faded, she could clearly make out her surroundings and the man beside her wearing a worried expression.

Xiaolin parted her lips, her voice confused and weak: "Atmore?"

"Yeah, it's me. How do you feel?" Atmore replied.

"How do I feel?" Xiaolin offered a tired, bitter smile. "Nothing missing, nothing extra—guess I'm still fine."

She rolled her eyes, taking in the two unfamiliar women by the window. "Where's Zhao Cong?"

Atmore's lips parted and closed, swallowing back harsher curse words. "He said you two broke up."

Xiaolin let out a dazed laugh, so soft it wasn't really a laugh but more like a sigh—the final breath of someone dying.

She closed her eyes, and the room fell silent.

—A brief silence, because Yan Xianchuan opened her mouth.

"And it is here at last that I know I love you. I see it all now—as whole as this evening."

"You are the call, and I am the answer.

You are the wish, and I am the fulfillment.

You are the night, and I am the day.

What more is needed? Only you and me, and that is enough. Perfect."

Finally, a light word slipped from her throat, tinged with irony and tenderness: "Love."

She was about to continue when Lu Mingqiu stopped her with a disapproving look.

Yan Xianchuan finally caught on. "Oh... sorry." She turned to Lu Mingqiu and whispered, "Not appropriate, was it?"

Lu Mingqiu nodded.

Yan Xianchuan leaned in again. "Doesn't look like she's sad to me."

Lu Mingqiu raised a finger to her lips, shushing her.

"I really shouldn't be sad," Xiaolin said, opening her eyes. A single tear slid from the corner into her hair. Her eyes reddened, her gaze mocking. "My life isn't worth grieving over a worthless man. Three years—we knew each other three years..."

"Thank you, Atmore. Thank you for coming to save me."

Atmore waved his hand. "Don't mention it—we're friends, aren't we? What are your plans now?"

"...I don't know." Xiaolin inhaled softly, then let it out in a long sigh. "I need to think."

"That's fine. Whenever you've figured it out, just tell me," Atmore said. "In the meantime, stay here and get your strength back. Don't rush anything—the days ahead are long."

"But there's one thing I have to do," Xiaolin said, her eyes cold. "I'm going to castrate Zhao Cong."

Yan Xianchuan clapped loudly, the sharp applause echoing through the bedroom.

Lu Mingqiu was caught between exasperation and laughter.

Atmore, startled by the interruption, nearly bit his tongue. "Good, good."

"Get some rest. I'll head out—call me if anything comes up."

He rose from the bedside. Lu Mingqiu followed him, with Yan Xianchuan behind her. The three walked out of the bedroom and downstairs to the first floor.

Atmore shed his easy, caring smile. Worry and difficulty crept onto his face, crumpling it like orange peel.

He let out a deep sigh. "It's tough. Just living is tough."

Yan Xianchuan stared at his face and said, "Why not report it to the police? Isn't it illegal for them to grab people like that?"

"Huh?"

Atmore wore an expression that said, *What nonsense are you talking about?* "Call the police?"

Yan Xianchuan looked back at him with full confidence. "Exactly."

It was unbelievable—of the three of them, she was the only law-abiding citizen thinking of solving the problem through the authorities.

Atmore's face was a mess of tangled emotions. "The search teams won't do anything. In their eyes, we West District people are all parasites—scum of society who disturb public order and ruin the city's look. They'd be glad if we all dropped dead. Even if you file a report, they just give lip service and never actually act."

"After that day, I went to the search teams who knows how many times. All they ever said was, 'We're investigating, we're investigating.' Eventually, I gave up," he said quietly. "It's useless. They only act for certain people."

His family was likely taken by Dongye's people for experiments. People died every second in this world, and the deaths of drifters were among the most unnoticed.

No one cared whether those scavengers lived or died, or how many of them were gone. And the search teams would never dare trouble the Dongye family.

If asked to describe the search teams, Atmore could come up with dozens of insults—top of the list being *corporate lackeys*. He would never trust them again.

As for the praise online? Look at who said it, who actually enjoyed the Federation's services—certainly not fourth-class citizens like them.

"I need to buy her some medicine," Atmore said.

"You still have money?" Yan Xianchuan asked. Between hiring help and buying weapons, the costs weren't small, and he still needed to pull strings to arrange a future for Xiaolin—that would take even more.

"I do." Atmore smiled, and with his bright golden hair, it looked like a movie star's poster. "After all these years, I've managed to save a little."

The indoor cameras had already been scrambled by a hacker contact, and all witnesses present had been dealt with. Old Man's people wouldn't know it was him.

Xiaolin ran a restaurant and knew a lot of people. Even if he passed the word around, no one could trace it back to him. And even if they suspected him, Old Man wouldn't make a move.

People in the gray area followed rules. Old Man's move—grabbing Xiaolin through Zhao Cong to get back at Blood Dove—wasn't against the rules, exactly, but it was dishonorable and classless. But they didn't care about reputation anyway; they'd already rotted through.

Without evidence, Old Man wouldn't make a big show of coming after Atmore either—he was no small fry himself.

Catching Zhao Cong, though, would be the toughest part. The doctor was dead, so they'd have to recruit a new one. Old Man had taken a loss. Xiaolin's rescue couldn't be hidden forever, and Zhao Cong would figure it out in a heartbeat—plus there was that ugly phone call between them.

If that weathervane didn't go into hiding like rats before winter, Atmore would eat his own head.

Hiring a tracker to find Zhao Cong's rat hole cost even more money.

Atmore could already see his wallet thinning fast, but he didn't regret it at all. Money could be earned again, but friends didn't respawn like game characters. It was a good deal—there was no comparison between the two.

The two women stood at the door, watching his car drive away.

The sun was shifting west, but the heat didn't let up one bit. The air seemed to burn, rippling with rising waves of heat. Fewer people were on the streets—no one wanted to brave the scorching pavement that could melt shoe soles.

Yan Xianchuan stood in the narrow shade near the door, watching the car recede. "We don't have a car."

Lu Mingqiu looked at the sky and said, "Right, it's still where we left it."

"So hot." Yan Xianchuan's face fell again. "So boring."

"You said earlier you had a question for me—what was it?" Lu Mingqiu asked.

"I forgot. It's so hot, the sun melted my brain. It's stopped working." Yan Xianchuan tilted her head, standing stiff like a puppet with cut strings.

Lu Mingqiu tried offering a solution: "How about I go get the car and you wait here?"

Yan Xianchuan didn't blink, apparently committed to her act. "But didn't you say we should stick together—where you go, I follow?"

Lu Mingqiu: "...Then you come with me."

Yan Xianchuan: "But it's so hot."

Lu Mingqiu's lips curved upward, her voice soft and warm: "Then what do you suggest?"

Yan Xianchuan stared straight at her and said, "I don't know."

Fine, this was deliberate troublemaking. But if her way of venting displeasure was through words alone, Lu Mingqiu found it almost easy—and easy to handle.

"Then listen to me. Let's go." Lu Mingqiu walked to the convenience store across the street, bought two sun hats printed with purple morning glories, the kind suitable for a countryside outing. She popped one onto Yan Xianchuan's head and bought her a popsicle too.

The popsicle was wrapped in a layer of ice. Biting into it, the ice cracked and crunched along with the creamy ice cream core inside, as if giving her tongue an ice compress.

Lu Mingqiu didn't eat one herself. She carried a plastic bag with two bottles of iced purified water.

They walked along the shadows cast by the buildings, avoiding direct sunlight, which eased the oppressive heat somewhat.

But Yan Xianchuan remained in a wilted state, like a dehydrated radish, and even after they got on the motorcycle and returned to the air-conditioned safehouse, she still hadn't recovered.

The root of the problem wasn't the heat. Lu Mingqiu guessed silently—if she told her now that they were going to kill someone, she wouldn't hesitate for a second, even if it meant swimming in sweat inside a sauna.

What could be done? Picking a lucky victim at random and executing them was possible, but they couldn't do that every time. Reckless actions would eventually draw the attention of the search teams. And endlessly indulging her desires, feeding her illness, would only raise the threshold, making her harder and harder to satisfy.

"Want to play a game?" Lu Mingqiu asked. "A puzzle—how about it?"

"What puzzle?" Yan Xianchuan looked at her for a moment, then answered slowly.

Then she watched as the woman before her pulled out a large square box and poured the neatly packed pieces onto the coffee table. Some were the blue-green of crab shells, others the yellow of ceremonial robes; hollow little windows painted with gold patterns; a jade-white eyeball rolled to the edge of the table, and just as it was about to fall, Yan Xianchuan caught it in her hand.

In its iris, a blue luan bird flew past, leaving streaks of color.

Lu Mingqiu took out a small projector from the box and pressed a button. A 3D projection of a towering ship appeared in the air.

Sleek and smooth as a shuttle, with huge gold-and-silver woven wings pressed against its sides. At the bow, a great tree cast its shadow, and from its top hung a jade eye, casting silver radiance.

"An immortal boat," Lu Mingqiu said.

Yan Xianchuan sometimes felt that this woman carried a bottomless treasure bag around, or else she could read minds—and given that she had mental esper power, the latter possibility shot up considerably. How else could she always hit the mark with what Yan Xianchuan was thinking?

It was almost incredible, since they'd only known each other for a month.

"Done looking?" Lu Mingqiu asked the person who had silently straightened up.

"What?" Yan Xianchuan took a second to realize she meant the model, and she glanced over it again. "Done."

Lu Mingqiu reached out, turned off the projection, and gestured at the pile of parts. "You can start assembling. Once it's done, we'll have dinner—I booked a spot at Tianhai Pavilion. Hope we won't be too late."

Yan Xianchuan picked up a curved piece with a groove, running her fingers over the silver spray paint. "That's a simple provocation."

"Does it work?" Lu Mingqiu asked.

"It works." Yan Xianchuan answered.

She spread out all the pieces. At a glance, there were close to a thousand, all different sizes and shapes. It really tested spatial reasoning and memory—especially since she had no idea of the inner structure, only guesses. Building it just from a few glimpses of the final product was no easy task.

She didn't like making friends, hated fake relationships, and loathed listening to low-IQ peers spout nonsense in front of her. So her childhood was mostly spent at home.

Among the games suitable for killing time as a kid, puzzles always had their place.

And Yan Xianchuan genuinely loved puzzles. She enjoyed the feeling of thinking for herself, and liked taking on challenging tasks.

—Though now she didn't use her brain much, since she had a smart person by her side.

Solving a problem, completing a challenge—the sense of accomplishment and pleasure was hard to replace, and on top of that, she got praise and admiration from her parents.

It was a win-win.

Lu Mingqiu sat in the single sofa beside her, quietly watching her assemble the pieces for a while. Before touching a part, Yan Xianchuan clearly thought it through first, then fitted it—she almost never made a mistake.

But after completing the base shell, the inner cabin inside made her fall into a long contemplation. At this pace, she'd be occupied for a good few hours.

During that time, Lu Mingqiu kept busy too, pulling up a light screen to continue the criminal psychology course she'd been watching before.

As the sunlight dimmed, Lu Mingqiu received a video from Hei Ge, with a note attached: 【Dongye He is about to move.】

She tapped the video. The footage was clearly from a camera in the living room.

Dongye He was sitting on a sofa. Across from him stood two people—one in a suit, and one who'd undergone mechanical prosthetic modification, both arms fitted with all sorts of weapons, muzzles clearly visible.

"Got the shareholders under control?" he asked, a cigar between his fingers, smoke curling upward.

The man in the suit nodded and replied, "All handled. But Zhu Ming still refuses to cooperate. Don't worry, boss—he got into a car accident recently and won't be able to attend the shareholders' meeting in a few days."

"With you on it, I'm always at ease," Dongye He said, then looked at the modified man. "Our success hinges on you."

"My father used to have an esper who stuck by him like a shadow, but he died together with that woman Sera. He hasn't recruited a replacement yet."

"Even if he finds someone before that day, no need to fear. He won't trust a newcomer, definitely won't bring him to private occasions. When we talk, he'll make this person leave, so we'll only have one bodyguard left—another modified human."

Dongye He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "You confident? Orielle."

A blue light lit up in the mechanical eyes of the modified Orielle. "The weapons on these arms are the latest military-grade. Boss, I've never been more confident in my life."

His voice, too, mixed human tones with electronic sounds, extremely odd.

"Good." Dongye He lifted a smile and raised a finger at him. "Keep that state. When it's done, you'll be well rewarded."

The video ended there. Hei Ge sent a few more messages.

【The suit is Dongye's executive secretary, Jin Zaishun. He's been with Dongye He for over a decade—he trusts him deeply.】

【Orielle the modified, a fifth-class citizen. Imprisoned for killing thirteen people in a row, and before his sentence was up, Dongye He pulled strings to get him out on a 'good behavior' excuse. He handles Dongye He's dirty work.】

【As for the time Dongye He mentioned, I don't know yet. His network signal is encrypted, not on the same port as the building. I can only tell he and Dongye Zhengqi arranged a private meeting time.】

Lu Mingqiu thought for a while, then replied, 【Keep watching him. Any recent abnormalities with Dongye Zhengqi? Has he contacted the Holy Healing Church?】

【No, but someone from Mechanical Pure Land reached out to him—asking if he'd be interested in cooperating on the Perfect Consciousness-Separation Serum. Dongye Zhengqi accepted. He's been worried about not having enough test subjects.】

Hei Ge continued: 【With Dr. Sera gone, he threw a huge fit and smashed most of the room. None of Sera's lab assistants have her skill—they're all clumsy when preparing the serum. I heard him ranting for a long time, saying material waste is going up again.】

Hearing that, Lu Mingqiu only wanted to sneer. A human life, in his view, was just a consumable material, a cost to be counted—not a living person.