"May 17th, 7 PM, an invasion of parasitic monsters occurred at the external city's supply station plaza, representing a new form of parasitism. The tribunal has updated its regulations in response to this new method. The danger within the base has been eliminated, and residents can rest assured about their safety."
"To enhance the accuracy of judgments and ensure the presence of adjudicators throughout the process, the city gate's opening hours will henceforth be from 8 AM to 12 PM and from 2 PM to 6 PM. Please be mindful of your return times to the city."
"According to Lighthouse observations, the breeding season for arthropod and parasitic monsters has begun earlier than expected. To prevent aerial invasions, the base's ultrasonic deterrent devices have been upgraded to Level III. The danger levels for the Second Plains, Sixth Basin, and the Southwest Canyon have been updated to four stars. Ensure your safety in the wilderness and wear full protective gear. This message has been distributed to all teams in the wilderness."
"May 17th, 7 PM, external city supply station plaza..."
These broadcast messages looped as Mr. Xiao turned off the player with a snap, returning to his sculpting work.
An Zhe was still in that corner, but this time, he wasn't simply grafting eyebrows. Using a grey pencil, Mr. Xiao had outlined specific shapes and directions on the blank face of a doll, practicing eyebrow grafting for a judge's doll.
Though Dusei had died, the order she had introduced must still be fulfilled, as Mr. Xiao had already received half the deposit—the agreed delivery timeline was a month later, with the shop committing to a door-to-door delivery at Building 13, District 6. By then, the client would pay the remaining half.
Lu Feng's eyebrows mirrored his hair color, a pure black. A striking hue, the eyebrows gently sloped upwards, defining a clear arch before gradually tapering into thin, sharp tails. It took Mr. Xiao an hour just to sketch this pair of eyebrows. Receiving the doll's head, An Zhe not only had to precisely graft the eyebrows according to the template but also occasionally reference a side-profile photo of Lu Feng on a tablet in front of him to ensure accuracy.
This tablet was delivered at seven o'clock this morning by a young man in black who had come to buy a phone, claiming it was a gift from Mr. Hubbard to Mr. Xiao.
After delivering the gift, he glanced at An Zhe, bantering, "Wow, you've snagged yourself a nice gig. Got enough cash to buy a phone from me now?"
An Zhe felt sorry since he could barely afford potato soup with his wages, replying with a "No," leaving the young man to sigh in disappointment before taking his leave.
Stored in the tablet were several close-up photos of Lu Feng, mostly taken during his patrol in the black market, captured from ideal angles. One picture even included An Zhe, though he was merely a blurred white silhouette in the corner, a bowl of potato soup in front of him.
"Hubbard has far-reaching connections in the black market. Getting a few photos of the adjudicator is a trivial matter for him. Though we lack specific data, the quality of these photos is enough to make do," Mr. Xiao noted as he scrolled through the photos, commenting, "This face can drive women mad. Do you fancy him?"
By human anatomical standards, An Zhe wasn't a woman, thus devoid of such frenzy. Instead, he felt unease. Among all in the human base, only Lu Feng entertained doubts about his humanity. An Zhe thought, if he were ever to die within the human base, it would undoubtedly be by the adjudicator's bullet.
"I don't care for him," he said.
"A dissenter, then," Mr. Xiao remarked. "I despise dissenters. My last apprentice was one."
"Why?" An Zhe inquired.
"He had the nerve to request half-day leaves each week for protests and rallies."
"..."
"I'm not a dissenter," An Zhe clarified.
"As long as you don't take leaves," Mr. Xiao solemnly advised.
"I... won't," An Zhe affirmed.
Amused by An Zhe's response, Mr. Xiao kindly smiled, prompting An Zhe to ask, "May I stay here?"
Over time, An Zhe had noticed Mr. Xiao's shop was spacious enough to accommodate someone between unused storage containers.
"What's the matter?" Mr. Xiao asked.
An Zhe knew relocation wasn't common among base residents, assigned housing from a young age—though occupation varied, most mercenaries spent their lives in the wilderness, with few returning home.
He simply couldn't bear returning to building 117, wearied by Joshi's persistence.
"My neighbor," he explained to Mr. Xiao. "He always..."
Before finding the right words, Mr. Xiao raised an eyebrow, understandingly: "He wants to sleep with you?"
An Zhe confirmed Mr. Xiao's single-mindedness.
"No," he denied. "He's just always trying to get close."
"And that differs from wanting to sleep with you how?"
"It does." An Zhe seriously recalled Joshi's actions. "We were good friends before."
Some things couldn't be shared with Mr. Xiao, using "I" instead of "An Zhe."
"I grew up with him as neighbors. I contributed to the city's newspaper for a little payment, and he worked as a mercenary outside. Occasionally, when either of us ran out of money, we helped each other," An Zhe shared.
"But later, I wanted to apply for the supply station, and he discouraged me, claiming it was too difficult, suggesting we work together in the wilderness on something easier."
At this, Mr. Xiao scoffed.
Looking to Mr. Xiao for insight, An Zhe couldn't understand Joshi's motives against An Zhe: "Why would he do that?"
Holding a doll's arm and polishing it with a small file, Mr. Xiao explained, "Once you make it into the supply station, moving beyond the common folks, what's he to do? He'll remain just an ordinary mercenary. Would you still stick with him?"
Continuing, Mr. Xiao glanced at An Zhe, adding, "Maybe, you get in and snag a high-ranking officer from the supply station. He'd stand no chance then."
But An Zhe wouldn't.
"I wouldn't," An Zhe asserted.
"Even if you don't, he'd think so," Mr. Xiao polished a fingernail and sprayed clear lacquer, moving to the next. "Who can say for sure, human nature is elusive."
"So, you, don't get mixed up with such loser types—"
An Zhe lowered his eyes, deeming Mr. Xiao a good person, a mentor offering guidance for a younger human's future life, a behavior sometimes witnessed among certain abyssal creatures as well.
But then, Mr. Xiao added, "Keep an eye out on the third level, snag a boss from a big mercenary team, someone like Hubbard. He'd avoid you just at sight. If he still troubles you, have your man beat him up. Not a man? The AR1104 female captain would fancy you for sure, though she looks like a gorilla."
"Adjudicator's fingers are a bit longer than this."
Startled, Mr. Xiao cursed and began reworking, too busy to offer further life advice to An Zhe.
Watching the focused Mr. Xiao, An Zhe smiled.
—And so, he settled in the third layer.
Without Joshi, the world became much quieter. An Zhe's upfront salary afforded a foldable bed, nestled between two empty shelving units in the shop's corner, spending nights amidst doll limbs, eyeballs, and skulls. Occasionally halted by mercenaries asking his price, but Mr. Xiao taught him a useful phrase—"I'm taken." These four words fended off all mercenaries.
In reality, his sole possession was an unfinished doll, growing day by day to resemble Lu Feng more.