Chapter 6: Peculiar
"Brother Wu, what do you mean by that?" Yang Bo asked, clearly puzzled—there was something off in his words.
Wu Bing let out a chuckle and replied, "Yang Bo, you don't really think I'm an F-class resident, do you?"
"Brother Wu, but you're wearing a watch…" Yang Bo's confusion deepened.
"A watch? This one is officially certified. There are many secrets in this world—you're only seeing what they want you to see. Come on, let's finish the job first. If you continue with this work, I'll explain everything to you in detail," Wu Bing said, shaking his head.
Yang Bo felt an unsettling sensation. Could it be that this cleaning company was involved in dirty work?
"Even dirty work pays," he mused. The thought of doing grimy tasks stirred a small excitement in him. In his previous life he had led a bland existence—having died once, he no longer wished to live as inconspicuously as a blade of grass. Even if he could at least transform into a butterfly and fly for a few days, that would be enough; at least his life would have been exciting.
Wu Bing held the task order, which Yang Bo wasn't allowed to see due to his clearance level. However, the equipment he received felt odd—a safe-like box and a briefcase containing a stack of garbage bags. Yet these weren't ordinary bags; they looked like ancient snake-skin pouches he had never seen before.
After someone came to pick up the task, Yang Bo boarded the vehicle and suddenly felt that he'd discovered the reason behind his deep dissatisfaction with his current life—he no longer wanted to live like a blade of grass or like a heap of garbage constantly monitored and scrutinized.
Observing Yang Bo's solemn expression, Wu Bing muttered to himself: if social welfare weren't so generous nowadays, it'd be nearly impossible for a young man like him to even get into the company. Many youngsters would rather remain as happy pigs than go out to work.
This time the vehicle arrived at the foot of a mountain, enclosed by high walls and guarded at the gate. The two were separately ushered into a building for inspection—their watches removed and placed into special boxes. They then exchanged identity cards, and a security guard led them through the gate onto a stone-paved pathway. The stones looked quite old, and the surrounding trees grew wild rather than being carefully planted.
After a short walk, they began ascending the mountain via a series of irregular stone steps. In the gaps between the stones sprouted ferns and weeds, and tangled vines and shrubs lined the path, giving the impression of a secluded trail long forgotten.
Reaching mid-mountain, Yang Bo glanced back and noticed a helipad at the base. Moreover, the area was so vast that its precise boundaries were impossible to discern amidst the surrounding mountains.
A temple? Climbing another flight of steps, Yang Bo was taken aback when a building came into view. Upon closer inspection, it appeared more like a Taoist temple. None of them entered, and from the outside it was impossible to tell whether it was a Taoist temple or a Buddhist shrine.
Beside the temple lay a bamboo grove with a stone-paved path branching off in several directions.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your work area—please adhere strictly to the contract," a staff member announced as they arrived at a small courtyard.
"Understood," Wu Bing nodded.
The courtyard resembled a quaint country garden: a bamboo fence, stone-paved grounds dotted with various plants and flowers, and even a fishpond that appeared to house some goldfish. The building itself was constructed of bamboo, its weathered color speaking of many years, and it exuded an artistic ambience enhanced by its natural surroundings. Yet to Yang Bo, the setting felt eerie—the dense bamboo grove and the towering mountains behind it gave the place a gloomy air. It might be nice for work, but living there would be far from ideal: high humidity, poor ventilation from the thick bamboo, and an abundance of insects meant that only at noon would a few rays of sunlight penetrate.
Before Yang Bo had even had a chance to review today's task, he asked, "Brother Wu, what is our assignment for today?"
"Stay here in the courtyard," Wu Bing instructed as he opened a box, "I'll go fetch the supplies. Once I retrieve them, throw everything into this bag."
"Okay," Yang Bo replied with a nod.
Wu Bing opened the box—which measured roughly 50 centimeters long, 40 centimeters wide, and 30 centimeters high. Curious about its contents, Yang Bo peered inside and saw an object about the size of a frying pan lid—a shield, perhaps? The shield was a bronze color, adorned with mysterious patterns, much like the ancient bronze artifacts Yang Bo remembered from antique streets in his previous life.
There was a second compartment in the box as well. Beneath it lay a short sword that appeared to be made of purple copper.
"Remember—don't touch anything in here," Wu Bing cautioned, holding the short sword in one hand and the shield in the other.
Yang Bo nodded, his mind swirling with questions as he looked around. There was no sign of a third person; the plants in the courtyard and the environment seemed entirely ordinary.
"Kid, don't doubt what I say. This world is far more complex and cold than you realize. Consider this: if humans can be classified into various levels of genetic enhancers, what about other living beings?" Wu Bing said, his gaze fixed on Yang Bo with a hint of gravitas.
Yang Bo's heart skipped a beat. Indeed, if humans could become genetic enhancers, then what about other creatures? If human genes can change, might any organism with genes have the chance to evolve?
Without pressing for further explanation, Yang Bo felt a pang of regret about becoming a cleaning worker. He couldn't shake the feeling that this company harbored mysteries far beyond his understanding.
Soon, another strange thought occurred to him—why wasn't he afraid? Could it be because he had already died once? Recalling Wu Bing's words, Yang Bo instinctively kept his distance from the bamboo house. If danger arose, he'd be ready to bolt.
He then surveyed the small courtyard at the entrance of the bamboo house. The blue stone slabs and weathered bamboo fence, overgrown with various plants and decorated with assorted ceramic pots, looked extraordinary. Nearby, there was a small, irregularly shaped pond with a rockery atop which some plants clung. The entire setting exuded a simple, elegant, pastoral charm.
At that moment, Wu Bing emerged—but empty-handed. Yang Bo found it odd that after all the fuss, Wu Bing came out without a single item.
"Brother Wu?" Yang Bo hurriedly approached and inquired.
"Go tidy up over there," Wu Bing said, his face stiff as he pointed toward the fishpond.
"Okay," Yang Bo replied instinctively, then turned to leave. Yet in that instant, something felt wrong. Although Wu Bing had clearly spoken directly to him, Yang Bo sensed that the voice seemed to come from the side.
His sound wave localization ability picked up on this subtle discrepancy. He looked in the direction of the sound—and, to his astonishment, it was emanating from the small, unremarkable fishpond.
With his heart racing, Yang Bo whistled sharply!
(End of Chapter)