Chapter 81
On the day Jinwen fully regained consciousness, he went mad, shouting that he wanted to see the Emperor of Junk Star.
Yomi had always felt a little guilty toward Jinwen to begin with: he had assumed Jinwen fainted because he mistook him for a ghost and had nearly been scared to death by him.
So the moment he heard that Jinwen wanted to see him, he immediately put on a neat little suit and followed Lynn in to visit this old friend.
Jinwen’s mind had actually remained in chaos the whole time. Before seeing Yomi with his own eyes, he still could not equate Sheep Asura with Yomi. Even though a certain suspicion had already formed in his heart, reason simply could not believe something so absurd.
Driven by instinct and urgency, he wanted to see Sheep Asura as soon as possible. It was not only for the mission, but also because he wanted to clear away that layer of fog—he wanted to know whether it was just coincidence, or…
The ward door creaked open, and someone came in.
Yomi in his little CEO-style suit, his hair combed back in an overbearing-president look, stepped inside. His forehead was fully exposed, smooth and fair, his face fresh and clean, his eyes blinking as he looked toward the hospital bed.
Then he walked to the bedside with exaggerated steadiness, rose a little on tiptoe, and, with nowhere to put his hands, clasped them behind his back. “Hello, Jinwen. We meet again.”
Silence.
A few seconds later, the machine beside the bed suddenly started beeping wildly, and Jinwen turned pale and lay flat again.
Lynn, who had followed Yomi in, panicked at once and immediately shouted for Yexi to come save him, but before anyone could rush in, the man on the bed opened his eyes again and panted, “I’m fine…” He turned his head toward the little figure who looked a bit helpless with fright and said dazedly, “Yomi… it really is you… you… you’re actually still alive…”
As soon as the words fell, tears began to stream down in great sheets. Jinwen had never known he could cry this much. The emptiness in his mind was flooded over by tangled, overwhelming emotions, and his thoughts stopped working. He could hardly speak at all, only watch as the little figure came over and tucked in his blanket. “It’s all right. Your leg will heal. Even if your eye can’t be cured, you still have the other one… stop crying. You’ll cry yourself blind.”
“…”
Jinwen cried even harder. For one fleeting moment, he felt as though he were a child lost beneath some sheer cliff, convinced he was going to die, only to be led out of the darkness and back into the sunlight by another child.
Yomi stood by the bed the whole time. Only after Jinwen calmed down did he tell him that reinforcements had already been sent to the battlefield. He had assumed Jinwen was crying over his father and his comrades.
Jinwen froze for a moment. “How do you know…”
“We already know everything about what’s happening on Snar Star and Phizhi Star,” Yomi said. “Just focus on recovering.”
Jinwen’s eyes were red. He looked at Yomi helplessly, and only after a long while did he squeeze out one sentence: “Why…”
At this point, what was there left for him not to understand? Yomi was alive, and Anxius was likely alive too. All these years, they had been living here, making Junk Star a better place. Their lives could have gone on undisturbed…
Jinwen already knew of the Emperor’s scheme from back then. He knew that they had been forced to leave Snar Star.
Why, then, were they still willing to help?
Silence filled the room. Even Jinwen felt ashamed on behalf of the royal family. Back then, the Emperor had crippled Anxius, and in the end had even wanted to take his life. Was he really willing to help now?
“Anxius isn’t helping the Emperor,” Yomi said, seeing through his thoughts at a glance. “There are still many people on Snar Star besides the Emperor.”
Jinwen went still.
“All right, get some rest. I’ll come see you again tomorrow. Once you’re able to get out of bed, I’ll teach you rehab exercises.” Yomi patted his blanket, gave him a firm, reassuring look, and then left with Lynn.
Jinwen stared blankly after the little figure as he left, and soon the room sank back into terrible silence.
His two comrades were looking at him soundlessly, while he slowly turned to the mirror by the bed—his hair, once red, had turned half white in just a few short days.
Covered in scars, half his hair gone white, yet the face in the mirror wore a peace unlike anything it had ever known.
“Yomi, thank you.”
…
After settling the patient, Yomi returned to his office. After thinking it over again and again, he decided to try contacting Anxius. If he could get through, he could tell him about Jinwen’s situation.
Using a new number, Yomi dialed the new number Anxius was using on Snar Star.
The call connected almost immediately.
This was far too smooth compared to the spy thrillers Yomi remembered, so the instant the video call went through, he covered his face with his hand and peeked out through the gaps between his fingers.
The communicator projected both sides of the call onto the screen. On one side was the background of Yomi’s office, with the little figure sitting perfectly still, hiding his face. On the other side was a dim background where only a vague silhouette could be seen, the face impossible to make out.
Armed with his extensive spy-movie viewing experience, Yomi was worried it might be a trap, so he kept covering his face and gave the code phrase: “Sorry, I got the wrong number.”
After a burst of static, a familiar voice came through. “Baby?”
“…”
Yomi’s face lit up with delight.
“Why have you gotten thinner?” the voice asked in worry.
As long as it was really him, that was enough!
Yomi let out a sigh of relief, lowered his hand, stepped right into the center of the camera’s view, then tilted his head, studying the shadowy figure of his boyfriend. “I didn’t get thinner… it’s just that the camera is too high. A top-down angle makes people look slim and sharp-faced… you look tanner.”
“…”
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you need me to come help?” With both hands folded in front of him, Yomi leaned forward, peering curiously at the screen. “I’ve been practicing shooting lately whenever I have free time. I can win prizes at the market shooting balloons now. If you run into trouble, I can come over. Do you want me to?”
The instant he finished speaking, the communicator picked up a sudden rush of breathing from the other end. His breathing was unsteady, his eyelashes trembling, as he said, “No… it’ll be over soon. Once it’s over, I’ll come find you!”
“You really don’t need me to help?” The little figure kept recommending himself to the camera. “With my size, I’d be easy to hide, right?”
In the dim light, those golden eyes stared fixedly at him and slowly shook their head.
“All right then.” Yomi gave in helplessly and started chatting with him about everyday things. He told him about Jinwen’s situation, about Brule and Satan coming over, and about everything happening in the castle. He talked until his mouth went dry, and only then did he realize they had already been talking far too long.
But Anxius kept listening, staring at him without blinking once.
Yomi knew calls couldn’t last too long at times like this, but he also felt that lovers ought to say something heartfelt. The trouble was, he couldn’t think of what to say, so he leaned close to the camera and suddenly puckered up, making a kissing sound. “Mwah, darling, let’s talk again later.”
The silhouette on the other end staggered. That little kiss had hit with far too much force. Anxius’s human form fell apart under the impact, and after a shudder, he directly reverted into his huge monster form.
Yomi: !
The monster’s face practically slammed against the screen, as if he wanted to swallow both the screen and Yomi on the other side whole.
Only his tremendous self-control kept him from doing something even more alarming.
On Yomi’s side, after the first shock passed, he immediately began to panic and pace in circles. “Y-you… are you going berserk? What do we do? Can we do a consultation remotely? Should I call Yexi over—”
“No, I’m not, I’m not berserk.” Terrified of scaring him, Anxius denied it at once. In truth, after being with Yomi, he had hardly gone berserk at all. His Adam’s apple rolled once, and he did his best to slow his voice down. “I’m fine.”
“Really?” Yomi still looked doubtful. Staring at the terrifying scene on the other end like something out of a horror movie, he felt a little scared. “Don’t force yourself. Your eyes are red.”
“…” Anxius immediately turned his head away, not letting Yomi see his eyes. Suppressing the overwhelming urge to return to Junk Star right this second, he said softly, “I’m not berserk. Really.”
To distract Yomi, he hurriedly picked up a little wooden hut from beside him and held it up to the camera for Yomi to see.
Yomi gave a startled cry. “My little house! My very first little house!”
Back then, when he had just crossed over to Snar Star, he had had nothing. Finding a job had been incredibly hard, and he certainly had no money to rent a place. So he had picked up a pet hut, washed it clean, and moved into someone’s courtyard under the pretense of serving as security.
Anxius had actually found his little house.
The excitement passed, and Yomi forced himself to look a bit more composed, clasping his hands behind his back and only staring at the hut.
“All of your things are here, not a single one damaged,” Anxius said hoarsely.
During this time, he had relied on these things to soothe his longing for Yomi. Looking at the little house, then at the baby boyfriend standing on the screen with his hands behind his back, the love in the monster’s eyes had nearly spilled over.
Yomi had spent three years living on Junk Star. Though he had only grown a pitiful two centimeters taller, that naturally sweet, soft charm of his had only grown richer and richer. He could stand anywhere at all, and the air around him would start bubbling with sweetness.
Anxius felt like his heart was about to explode from all that sweetness.
A few minutes later,
after ending the call with Yomi, the monster shut off the communicator with trembling hands. It was a long while before he got his reason back. Rising to his feet, he looked toward the old acquaintances lying severely wounded not far away.
The marshal seemed convinced he had become a prisoner of Phizhi Star. He had tried several times to kill himself, but his hands and feet were tied, his ears plugged, his eyes covered, and even his mouth firmly sealed. All he could do was make muffled, resentful sounds of despair and fury.
In the dim light, the monster stood in the shadows. His gaze rested on them for a moment before shifting to the little wooden house in his arms.
He wanted to finish things quickly.
