Chapter 13

Chapter 13 The Sea Without Light

The powerful tentacles of the parasitic jellyfish suddenly stiffened and then went limp. Its huge semi-transparent body melted like a jellyfish, covering the corpse of Zejian.

It was really dissolving, transforming from a combined creature of an octopus and a jellyfish into a sticky, gel-like substance.

The parasitic jellyfish could only survive for a short time after leaving its host. It was powerful but fragile and had low intelligence. Zejian was chosen as its next host, and when it failed to parasitize him, it also lost its life.

Jiang Ming spoke intermittently through the communication channel; he hadn’t died from falling out of the sky but was trapped inside the police car.

Kui Xin saw through her sniper scope Shu Xueyao and Liu Kangyun racing toward the spot where the police car crashed, attempting to rescue Jiang Ming, who was trapped inside. The bulletproof glass was cracked, and the car door bent. Shu Xueyao kicked open the door, and together with Liu Kangyun, they dragged Jiang Ming out.

Thankfully, the rain helped; the police car didn’t catch fire as badly.

“Good job, Kui Xin!” Lan Lan praised loudly, patting her on the shoulder, “Let’s quickly pack up our gear and meet up with the captain. The car is totaled, but backup will arrive soon. We…”

He trailed off because he saw that Kui Xin’s gun-wielding hand was trembling barely noticeably; she had been rigid in that position since she shot.

“Are you okay, Kui Xin?” Lan Lan asked concerningly as he supported her to stand.

“I… I’m fine,” Kui Xin said, struggling to grip her K80, using it as a crutch to support her body. She had been kneeling to aim and shoot for a long time and her legs had gone numb.

This killing felt different than the last time she killed two robbers.

Last time, she had acted unconsciously; before she came to her senses, those two were dead, and she had been engulfed by a sense of unreality throughout the whole event. This time, it was different. This time, she actively pulled the trigger and watched the fatal bullet hit Zejian’s head.

Lan Lan understood and said, “Don’t feel burdened, Xiao Wei. Zejian brutally murdered his wife and children before his capture, and he deserved his fate. However, our current laws…” He patted her shoulder, apparently wanting to give her the strength and courage to accept this reality through such physical reassurance, “But he deserved to die, and you did your duty to the people. Besides, he wouldn’t have survived anyway once the parasitic jellyfish entangled him.”

The most important point that Kui Xin couldn’t overlook was what he had just said; Zejian was not the “Zejian” she knew.

The criminal Zejian had been replaced by Player Zejian. An innocent soul inhabited the criminal’s body, and Zejian wasn’t a NPC in the Second World; he was someone similar to Kui Xin.

Lan Lan’s words offered no comfort to Kui Xin.

She silently shouldered her K80 and descended the signal tower steps: “We will meet the captain.”

The task was over. Zejian was dead, the unexpected crisis of the parasitic jellyfish resolved, and once the supportive security officers arrived, they could return to the Investigation Bureau.

Kui Xin removed her helmet, the dense rain drenching her. She looked at the cloudy sky and exhaled deeply.

She began to dislike rainy days. It was her third day in Hei Hai City, and it had rained non-stop for three days.

“What happened with that xenomorph?” Kui Xin asked Lan Lan.

“The emergency team is responsible for clearing them; you are still an intern security officer and shouldn’t know too much about it,” Lan Lan replied, “Once you become a regular staff member, you’ll know more about xenomorphs. That won’t be far off; you performed well in this operation, and the captain will likely recommend your transition to full status soon. Our main job in the Investigation Department is maintaining urban security, and we don’t deal with xenomorph removal frequently, as they are rare.”

Kui Xin said, “You mentioned they shouldn’t appear within the city limits, only near the coast…”

“Yeah, the parasitic jellyfish can’t survive without water. My guess is that the increased rainfall led to seawater surging inland, giving them a chance to come ashore,” Lan Lan frowned in thought.

Kui Xin decided to be straightforward, “I’ve never heard of xenomorphs before. How were they created?”

“I don’t know either,” Lan Lan shook his head, “Running into a xenomorph is an unexpected incident for you. As a newcomer, you shouldn’t confront these things face-on; their visual impact is too strong… They really are quite disgusting, right?”

“They are,” Kui Xin replied, recalling the scene of the swaying tentacles after exiting combat mode had caused some nausea.

“Usually, Augus would promptly track down their traces, and that’s when the emergency team intervenes to handle the situation,” Lan Lan said, “Sometimes the emergency team doesn’t act for nearly a month, while other times they have several incidents within a week…”

“Are emergency team members always facing such dangers during operations?” Kui Xin asked.

“Not every time,” Lan Lan explained, “Emergency team members aren’t permanent; the team is re-formed with members from other groups whenever there’s an issue, like me—”

“Enough, Lan Lan,” Shu Xueyao interrupted via the communication channel, “Please refrain from discussing these matters with her until Kui Xin becomes a full member. Can we do that?”

“Sure! Sorry for rambling too much, Xiao Wei. Just forget it,” Lan Lan smiled, “Some details need to remain confidential.”

“I understand,” Kui Xin said.

She counted herself lucky to have earned Lan Lan’s trust. Fighting side by side truly strengthened the camaraderie.

“Our men are here,” Shu Xueyao stated, “Tell the police car to fly toward us; Jiang Ming needs medical attention.”

“Commander,” Adam reported, “The order has been transmitted to Commander Shu.”

Jiang Ming’s injuries were severe. His right arm was fractured, and his thigh had burns. When he got into the car, he was sweating coldly from pain, “I need to get a mechanical arm; that way, I won’t worry about fractures anymore.”

“I think that sounds good.” Lan Lan peered into the car and said, “I’ve heard Xiao Wei swapped her brain for a titanium one, quite enviable. Even normal bullets won’t pierce through it, right?”

“We should all swap,” Lan Lan commented glancing sideways at Kui Xin.

“If your surgeries go well, the custom skull I received is nearly indistinguishable from the original, and I haven’t noticed any differences,” Kui Xin countered.

“I’ll swap once my body’s accustomed to this,” Lan Lan responded.

The police car took flight, and Kui Xin sat in the last row, placing the K80 on her lap. Her armored suit allowed her to feel the cold touch and the solid weight of the rifle.

“How are you feeling, Kui Xin?” Liu Kangyun, usually quiet, initiated conversation.

“Not great,” Kui Xin admitted candidly.

“That’s normal,” Liu Kangyun replied calmly, “I felt that way the first time too.”

“More like the time you almost shot a teammate with your gun,” Jiang Ming muttered sarcastically, “Kui Xin could handle it much better.”

Liu Kangyun blushed with embarrassment, no longer responding.

“Come on, don’t keep picking on him all the time, Old Liu finds it hard enough to speak,” Lan Lan commented.

The stern atmosphere that the Seventh Squad usually carried during operations had relaxed now. Kui Xin occasionally chimed in with the others, but often her mind drifted off, failing to follow what they were saying.

Descending from the sky, her teammates disembarked one by one. Kui Xin joined them, carrying her K80.

Doctors and nurses stood with stretchers at the landing pad, ready to lift Jiang Ming onto one as soon as he was helped out.

“Attend to wounds; the rest head to change to gear,” Shu Xueyao instructed, “To the rest room to wash up, or you might catch a cold from the rain.”

Following Lan Lan, who kept talking incessantly, Kui Xin went to the equipment room to take off her gear and change into her everyday clothes, then followed him to the rest room.

Before entering the rest room, Lan Lan paused, and Kui Xin almost bumped into his back.

Lan Lan pointed to the sign and chuckled, “This is the men’s rest room; the women’s one’s nearby. What were you thinking, zoning out like that?”

“Oops, I didn’t notice.” Kui Xin turned and hurried into the next room.

Inside, there was a bathroom and all necessary items. Kui Xin took a shower and dried her hair, then slumped onto the sofa.

“Trainee security officer Kui Xin, Commander Shu is waiting outside for you,” Adam announced.

Like a spirit emerging, Kui Xin rose from the couch and opened the rest room door.

“Captain, how can I help?” Kui Xin said.

“Mm, follow me,” Shu Xueyao replied, turning to lead the way.

They progressed forward and approached a metal door marked “Psychological Therapy Office.”

“Luckily today is Director Yang’s shift; you can chat with him,” Shu Xueyao said kindly.

Kui Xin wanted to decline, “I’m fine, Captain. I just need a bit of rest.”

“Rest can help with tiredness, but the heart needs counseling when exhausted,” Shu Xueyao said, “You’ve been through a lot recently, and your mental state isn’t good. You need psychological guidance. Go in. Director Yang is an excellent therapist.”

After a moment of hesitation, Kui Xin approached the door.

The metal door opened, and she stepped in.

“Welcome,” said the man inside. His voice was soft and rich. “Kui Xin, right? Your Captain and I are old friends.”

His voice reminded her of a cello’s rich tones.

She looked at his name badge, which read “Yang Xingyun.”

“Greetings, Director Yang,” said Kui Xin.

Yang Xingyun continued, “Sit, relax more. The psychological therapy office is a serene place.”

Kui Xin sat across from him in a rotating chair.

The psychological therapy room was indeed relaxed. Its decorations were entirely different from the others. The floor was wooden, walls adorned with warm-toned wallpaper, bookshelves lined two walls, with neatly arranged paper books. Warm, soothing lights contrasted with the harsh blue in the hallways.

“Do you prefer tea or the carbonated drinks commonly liked by young people? I have a wide variety available; if none fits, I can ask someone to bring it,” Yang Xingyun smiled.

Behind him, the open tea cabinet held glass containers filled with various teas – colorful flower teas and green and black teas.

“Tea, anything will do,” Kui Xin replied.

Yang Xingyun pressed the boiling button, “Then I’ll make you a goji berry and jujube tea. I drink this every day.”

Kui Xin stared, puzzled.

Did Director Yang start health-focused living at a young age?

Yang Xingyun skillfully brewed a cup of goji berry and jujube tea, added a piece of rock sugar in a ceramic cup, and pushed it toward Kui Xin.

“Do you like my office decor?” Yang Xingyun asked.

“It’s lovely, distinct from other places,” Kui Xin sipped the tea.

“I detest metallic colors; they’re too cold. Extended exposure can feel oppressive,” Yang Xingyun explained, “In today’s society, more and more people suffer from mental illnesses. It’s not just due to survival pressures but also living surroundings. People associate metal and machinery with efficiency, rationality, and precision, and they’re surrounded constantly, unable to unwind. So I gave the psychological therapy room a warmer, more emotional decor.”

“This is very nice,” Kui Xin nodded, “Shouldn’t we start the psychological guidance now?”

“It’s exactly this kind of discussion; let’s talk about daily happenings and ease your worries,” Yang Xingyun said, “Isn’t work at the Investigation Bureau challenging?”

“It’s okay; we newbies are taken care of by the Captain and the others,” Kui Xin replied dryly.

“You can share your concerns with me,” Yang Xingyun continued, “Kui Xin, those who enter field operations are not passive by nature. When faced with issues, you must take action proactively rather than be passive.”

Startled, Kui Xin reacted.

“I do have a worry,” she drank from her teacup while lowering her eyes, placing it down after, “I used to think I was proactive too, studying hard, striving for college, working hard to earn money… But recent, I’ve grown passive.”

“Most passivity results from lacking clear goals,” Yang Xingyun responded, “What is your goal? Have you defined it clearly?”

Uncertainly, Kui Xin said, “To become wealthy?”

Yang Xingyun chuckled, “See, even you sound unsure. Your goal should make you excited at the mere thought; your confidence and resolve when mentioning it need to be firm, not wavering.”

Kui Xin furrowed her brows.

“Defining a goal is tough. I went through long periods of uncertainty in college too, before realizing what I truly wanted,” Yang Xingyun said kindly, “Take your time.”

“Okay,” Kui Xin agreed, nodding.

“Let’s focus on solving immediate matters,” Yang Xingyun suggested, “Captain told me that dealing with killing was difficult for you.”

Kui Xin softly acknowledged with a light “Hmm.”

“Would you mind sharing your feelings?” Yang Xingyun asked.

“The sensation of hurting different kinds of beings versus hurting humans is different. Do you understand this, Director Yang?” Kui Xin asked.

“Xenomorphs are considered different beings, so shooting them doesn’t weigh on you. But when it comes to humans, you find it challenging to shoot with reason, correct?” Yang Xingyun reasoned.

Facing his queries, Kui Xin neither nodded nor shook her head.

In her perspective, she regarded herself and Xi Liang the same, as well as Zejian. In the Second World, everyone save for players, were seen as different.

“Although I know I did nothing wrong by killing him, the fact I killed a fellow human troubles me somewhat,” Kui Xin confessed.

“As an officer, you inevitably face such emotions and must learn to deal with them,” Yang Xingyun replied, “Now, Kui Xin, let’s consider an alternative scenario.”

“Suppose no xenomorphs had appeared, no parasitic jellyfish threatened you during the mission. How would you have handled Zejian differently?”

Without a second thought, she answered, “If he had picked up a weapon, I would have shot his hand, forcing him to drop it. Then, if he still insisted on resisting, I’d continue aiming at his other hand, leg, until he lost the ability to fight. That’s when the Captain would arrest him.”

“You didn’t initially consider shooting to kill him, right?” Yang Xingyun observed.

Kui Xin nodded.

“Kui Xin, you’re a kind person,” Yang Xingyun commented.

Had Zejian resisted, Adam would have recognized a threat, and Kui Xin’s teammates would have eliminated him. Only by fully neutralizing Zejian could he stay alive. Resistance was futile; there was no escape.

Lost limbs could be replaced by machinery; perhaps they function even better.

Life was irreplaceable.

“This situation no longer matters now that he’s dead,” Kui Xin reflected.

“Future scenarios like these await you, and you…”

Before Yang Xingyun could finish, Kui Xin interjected, “I’m trying my best to control my empathy.”

“I believe you will overcome it, Kui Xin.” Yang Xingyun reassured.