FI CH 34

Chapter 34: Underground Labyrinth (IV)

The boy only glanced at them briefly before quickly looking away. He grabbed Xiao Jiu’s hand and ran off in another direction.

Bai Hua stepped forward, instinctively wanting to chase after them, but suddenly came to a halt. If they pursued them now, it would likely only make the two children wary. Meeting them again after that would become much more difficult.

Kurosawa seemed to share the same opinion. The moment Bai Hua moved, he reached out and held his shoulder. “Don’t rush. This place isn’t that big. It won’t be hard to find out where they live.”

“Was that Lin Yuan?”

“Mm.”

“So the reason that kid looked familiar to me… is because he’s Feng Xu?”

Kurosawa confirmed again. “Yes.”

“But why is he called Xiao Jiu?”

Kurosawa replied, “When you were a kid and came across a character you didn’t know how to read, what did you do?”

Bai Hua answered instinctively, “Read the part that looks familiar—if it has a side component, read the side; if not, guess the middle.”^[1]

“Right. Reading half the character—that’s what this is.”

“……” Bai Hua fell silent for a moment, then thought to himself, Good thing they didn’t call him ‘Xiao Ri’.

But back in the battlefield memory, Bai Hua remembered Feng Xu once said that Lin Yuan was an innate sentinel, and that they had grown up together since childhood. Looking at things now, Feng Xu had clearly left out a lot of details back then—there seemed to be many secrets hidden in this story.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Xiao Ri—no, I mean Xiao Jiu—called Lin Yuan ‘gege,’ so they’re probably not biological siblings?”

Kurosawa chuckled. “Doesn’t seem like it. I think it’s probably because the name ‘Lin Yuan’ is too difficult for a little kid, so he just calls him ‘gege.’”

Bai Hua gave him a surprised glance. “You sure understand how children think.”

Kurosawa said, “Because I had a younger sister once.”

“You had?”

Kurosawa lowered his head. “Yeah… She died when I awakened at the age of seven. She was only five that year.”

This was the first time Bai Hua had heard anything about Kurosawa’s past. He knew whatever came next probably wouldn’t be a pleasant story, but he still couldn’t help but ask, “…Was it because—?”

“My guide ability suddenly erupted, and she was too close to me… she couldn’t withstand the impact.”

“And after that?”

“The incident was exposed, and the Guide Association took me away. I never went home again.”

Among those with abilities, Kurosawa’s story was far from rare. Once they awakened, they were destined to be different from ordinary people—destined to become the outsiders of the world.

Bai Hua wasn’t good at comforting others. He hadn’t gone through something similar himself. But he could tell that Kurosawa knew how to take care of others—it was a habit of being an older brother. So he blurted out, “You must have loved her very much.”

Kurosawa clearly hadn’t expected that. He looked up at Bai Hua.

Bai Hua added, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Kurosawa had heard similar words of comfort many times before. But none of them had ever made him feel as consoled and at ease as this one. Perhaps it was because Bai Hua truly accepted and acknowledged him for who he was.

For some reason, a sudden impulse surged within Kurosawa—the urge to kiss him right then and there. But he held it back and instead asked, “What about you? When are you planning to tell me about yourself?”

Bai Hua had never once explained his identity as a dark sentinel.

Even though he knew now wasn’t exactly the right time for a heart-to-heart, under the current atmosphere, he didn’t want to refuse Kurosawa’s question. He turned around and leaned against the stone wall, first making sure no one was nearby to eavesdrop. Then he finally said, “One of the conditions for a dark sentinel to form—is being a congenital sentinel^[2].”

“So you are?”

“Yeah.” Bai Hua nodded. “But honestly, it’s nothing particularly special. Both of my parents were ability users, so I grew up within the Sentinel Guild and had a happy childhood. Aside from the difficulty of hiding my identity, everything else wasn’t so bad. I was lucky—my parents were cheerful and optimistic. They never thought of my birth as a mistake…”

“What about your parents now…?”

“They’re gone. They died on a mission a few years ago.” Bai Hua smiled at Kurosawa as he said this. “No need to comfort me—I don’t think of it as something sad. On the contrary, I feel proud. They’ve always been my pride. Compared to others, I actually think I’ve been very fortunate.”

This was exactly the kind of resilience Kurosawa had always sensed from Bai Hua. It was why he had never felt even a shred of malice from Bai Hua’s emotions. His way of thinking was always positive and optimistic—he had never once doubted the ideals he held in his heart. He was the person who least fit the so-called “sinful” identity of a dark sentinel. Fate had simply played a cruel joke on him.

Someone like this—had once considered dying alone or falling on the battlefield.

Kurosawa now clearly understood his own feelings. And this time, he no longer wanted to restrain himself. He braced one hand against the stone wall beside Bai Hua and leaned in to kiss him.

Bai Hua was startled, but he didn’t push him away. He followed Kurosawa’s lead, slightly parting his lips, even making an effort not to resist the force pressing him against the wall.

Their soft tongues met in each other’s mouths, and the gentle pheromones surrounded them like a cocoon.

He let Kurosawa kiss him for a while before gently pushing him away. “Control yourself.”

The more frequently he had contact with Kurosawa, the more he began to feel something was off.

The biggest drawback of an extremely high compatibility rate was that even the smallest intimate contact could easily trigger arousal—and once it escalated, it could lead to the onset of a heat cycle.

And that was no joke, especially in the middle of a mission.

Kurosawa’s eyes remained dark and filled with desire, but he understood restraint. In the end, he only left a soft kiss on the corner of Bai Hua’s lips before pulling away, full of lingering tenderness and affection.

Bai Hua hadn’t yet recovered from that gentle warmth when he heard Kurosawa say, “You’re not alone anymore. You have me.”

“…Mm.” Bai Hua dumbly nodded, then added, “Can we not be so cheesy?”

Kurosawa chuckled, “Alright.”

After finding out where the young Lin Yuan and little Feng Xu were staying, the two of them secretly kept watch nearby. They weren’t exactly sure what they were supposed to do, but had a strong hunch that the clue to returning to reality was connected to those children.

Most likely due to the sentinel’s hypersensitive five senses, little Lin Yuan rarely left the house. Even staying indoors didn’t shield him from the overwhelming noise and chaotic mixture of scents in the environment. He could only grit his teeth and endure the torment. Feng Xu took care of him—preparing meals and doing his best to be considerate—but he never lingered long. He always came and went in a rush.

Kurosawa, despite having heard that sentinel training was extremely tough, still couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t there any way to ease his suffering?”

Bai Hua replied, “There are temporary medications that can relieve it, but they’re not a long-term solution. This is just a transitional phase—there’s no real fix except to endure it. Once they get used to it, it’ll gradually become manageable.”

“But at this age, Lin Yuan is still just an ordinary person.”

“Yeah.”

Kurosawa asked again, “Do you have any of that medicine?”

“No.”

“What about guide pheromones? Would those help?”

“…I’ve never tried it.” Bai Hua blinked in surprise. “What are you planning?”

Kurosawa replied seriously, “To trick a child.”

Bai Hua stared at him in shock, but then recalled the brutal treatment they suffered at Lin Yuan’s hands in the rainforest and muttered, “Count me in. What’s the plan?”

This time it was Kurosawa who stared at Bai Hua for a long moment. “Didn’t expect that from you…”

“Anyway, Lin Yuan is doing perfectly fine now, so it’s not like we’re changing the past.”

“Exactly.” Kurosawa smiled again and added, “There’s a course in the guide academy that teaches us how to efficiently extract knowledge from memory fragments. Some mental imprints are short-lived and can only be accessed once—like a temporary memory. Once it’s used, it’s gone. But others have a longer shelf life and can be accessed repeatedly, like those battlefield memories. Regardless of how long they last, the task remains the same: gather as much vital information as possible in the shortest time. War is often a battle of intelligence—the shorter the time, the more data we get, the higher our chances of winning.”

Bai Hua caught his meaning and joked, “So the course teaches you how to use any means necessary?”

Kurosawa laughed too, answering in the same teasing tone, “No, it taught us to recognize how cruel human nature can be.”

(To be continued…)