MMPS Ch. 40

Chapter 40: Paper Money Flowers^[1]

The medical rescue intern stood at the ready, eyes fixed on Zhao Ran. As the scene unfolded, he rushed to his side, flashlight in hand. He swiftly checked his pupils, listened for his heartbeat, and then raised his fingers, gesturing for Zhao Ran to identify them.

“That was dangerous… Luckily, the link was short.” Ji Nian remarked, seated amidst a pile of mechanical parts, chewing on some beef jerky that had been brought along. “For the first ten minutes after you enter the link, your brain can still tell the difference between the virtual and the real world. It’s like a rookie protection period. But after ten minutes, your brain starts to adapt to the new environment. If you’re injured or die after that, it can severely damage your mental state.”

Zhao Ran rubbed his temples, still feeling the dull throb in his head: “There are too many restrictions after entering the scene,” he muttered. “I was trapped in the cabin, unable to do anything.”

“Exactly,” Ji Nian nodded. “That’s why tonight, we’re going to try the Illusion Chamber again for a second link. If it works, we won’t be restricted like this.”

“Coal Black is incredible! He just speedran the Scream Warden and sent you flying. So cool—he’s got this cold indifference and just blitzes through everything. I’m a fan now.” Yong Zheng glanced up from his computer. “Is he one of ours? How come he didn’t get notified when the link started?”

“Of course he did.” Ji Nian responded, still chewing, lazily assembling a little screw-driven elephant from leftover parts. The tiny thing clumsily scurried across the floor, powered by makeshift gears.

“That kid… did it on purpose.” Zhao Ran finally pulled himself out of the dizziness, wiping his forehead as he looked at the replay of Coal Black’s stream. His face was barely visible, only the bottom half, his hands flying over the controls in a flawless, quick-paced rhythm, all while a sly, almost mocking smile tugged at his lips. He’d timed it perfectly, taking full advantage of the protection period to mess with him. Damn kid.

The equipment debugging process was slow, and Zhao Ran stayed at the company’s lab for testing, while Yu An remained at home. The day’s streaming tasks had ended early, and the quiet in the air felt almost stifling.

Yu An had long since grown accustomed to commanding his group of small helper hands at home. Kao Pu was tasked with filling the bath, Li Pu with massaging his shoulders, Madness cooked dinner, while a different one fetched a soda from the fridge. Even the shy and innocent ones kept him company, playing mobile games in sweet, synchronized pairs.

The small hands were eager to please, and the atmosphere was comfortable, filled with the warmth of familiar routines. The nameless little hands gathered by the bed, their faces tilted up with envy, occasionally sneaking a touch of Yu An. But Kao Pu was quick to spot them, chasing them off with a smack. Still, the little hands never seemed to tire of it, always returning for more.

Just after midnight, a knock echoed through the stillness of the house.

Yu An casually tossed his phone aside mid-game, getting out of bed and padding barefoot to the door. He bent down, fiddling with the automatic lock, muttering lazily: “You don’t need to come back. I’m fine with them.”

The sound of wind chimes brushed his ears, and when he opened the door, he came face to face with a gaunt, deathly pale face. The old man’s cheeks were painted with large, round circles of blush, his hollow eyes staring lifelessly at Yu An.

“The midnight trader?” Yu An froze, surprised. Every Thursday at midnight, the midnight trader would visit human homes to peddle strange goods. But the fact that the old man had tracked down Zhao Ran’s house? That was unexpected. How had he pinpointed their location?

The bent figure of the elderly man shuffled forward, parting his robe to reveal three items.

The first was a black sticker that resembled an interdimensional pocket. The label read “Core Box Expansion.”

Item name: Core Box Expansion
Effect: Increases the core container’s capacity by 4 slots, without changing its size.
Price: 4500 yuan

“An expansion that doesn’t change the size? Nice.” Yu An muttered, already pulling out the cash. The core analyzer only had eight slots, and adding four more would make it even more useful—worth every yuan.

Yu An wasn’t the broke college student anymore, living off a measly two thousand yuan a month. He had earned a hefty sum from the modification patent for the core analyzer and a bonus from the Illusion Chamber task at the beauty salon. Spending thousands no longer fazed him.

The second item was a Tier 3 three Purple core, its surface carved with patterns resembling an open book.

Product Name: Function Core: Reversal Fairy Tale
Price: 6000 yuan

The midnight trader always left the effects of the cores a mystery. The customer was forced to guess based on the name and category, making each purchase a gamble. However, Yu An had already used up many of his high-tier anomaly cores, and replacing them had been taking a toll on his body. He was more interested in lower-tier cores that would be easier on him.

But the price was nothing to worry about. Once he completed the Grey Crow Game’s commission, he would earn another nice bonus, and the livestream had been pulling in gifts as well.

The third item was a set of black clothing, layered with red decorative patterns. At the back of the outfit were small bat wings.

Product Name: Little Demon Set
The Demon’s skin, shed by the Tower’s Guardian after years of soaking in sin and blood in the swamp.
Primary Effect: Summon any evil being from the Tower.
Secondary Effect: Flight at night.
Price: 100,000 yuan, 10 Soul Coins.

Yu An double-checked the price tag. One hundred thousand? Not one thousand.

For just clothes? A hundred thousand? Must be custom-made.

“I don’t have the Soul Coins right now,” Yu An said, his mind already working. “But I’ll order them online tomorrow. Do you accept Tiandi Bank transactions^[2]? I’ll pay you next week.”

The old man’s eyes, devoid of any expression, simply stared back at him before he pulled out a payment code.

The midnight trader only brought the most fitting items for each customer, and once a piece of clothing was bought, it would disappear from the merchant’s inventory forever. But if a customer declined, the item would continue to be offered to other buyers until it was purchased, after which it would never appear again.

The old man didn’t care whether Yu An wanted to buy the items or not. If he couldn’t afford them, he would simply leave.

“Don’t leave.” Yu An said, grabbing the old man’s robe. “I’m serious—hold onto it for me.”

The little hands, already gathered by the door, hopped forward and clung to the midnight trader, pulling at him, desperate not to let him leave. The old man’s robe was on the verge of tearing under their grasp.

Without hesitation, Yu An bent down and slipped his shoes on: “You guys hold him down. I’ll go steal the money from the public cemetery.”

The old man’s face remained as still as death, but Yu An could almost sense the panic growing inside him, his soul likely drenched in cold sweat. The customer could have easily robbed him, but instead, he was going through all this trouble to gather the money.

Outside, the midnight villa area lay quiet and still. Beneath the dim streetlight, a long shadow—stretched by the yellowing glow—moved slowly toward the door.

As soon as Zhao Ran’s footsteps echoed through the air, the tiny hands clinging to the midnight trader scattered like startled creatures, dissolving into the shadows with the same fluidity as the tide pulling away from a shore. They slipped silently back into the house, each returning to its assigned task—one to wash clothes, another to mop the floors. The old man was left to stand alone, his frail form still trembling under the fading remnants of their touch.

The midnight trader, upon noticing the return of the master of the house, quickly pointed towards Yu An, his silent complaint hanging heavily in the air. The old man was so diminutive that his movements, bouncing around like a child in front of Zhao Ran, seemed almost comically desperate.

“If he likes it, just keep it for him.” Zhao Ran said with a mocking smile, as a nameless little hand scrambled out from the shadows of the house, a coin pinched between its fingers. It landed gently into the midnight trader’s hand.

“This coin serves as the deposit.” Zhao Ran continued, the weight of his words hanging in the space between them.

The midnight trader froze for a moment, opening his mouth to bite the coin. As his brittle teeth scraped against it, another chipped and fell away. He tucked the coin into the folds of his robe and, with a heavy shake of his hand, jingled the bell he always carried, slowly fading into the blackness of the night.

Zhao Ran closed the door behind him, the sound of it muffled by the weight of silence. He hung his coat on the shoe cabinet, slipping into his slippers with mechanical precision: “That old man can only trick kids like you. He comes, you buy, the shelves are empty again. What is this, a ‘Crazy Thursday^[3]’?”

“Too much money, just waste paper… spend it all.” Yu An muttered, still holding his purchases, his bare feet padding softly across the floor beside Zhao Ran.

The hallway stretched longer than usual as Zhao Ran shrugged out of his coat, loosening his tie with an absent gesture as he walked towards the living room. Yu An followed, his gaze drifting from the floor to Zhao Ran’s hand, watching it sway with each step.

“What’s the matter?” Zhao Ran asked without breaking stride. “Why are you staring?”

He exhaled, his voice steady as he explained: “The coin he wanted isn’t just any coin. It’s a burial offering from the Leaning Tower. That tower has become an IllusionChamber, a place of twisted reality. To obtain the coin, you have to enter it yourself.”

“Then how do you have it?” Yu An asked, his voice thick with curiosity.

“The owner of the Illusion Room and I… we’re acquainted. He gave me two as keepsakes. I’ll give you the extra one.”

“Oh.” Yu An seemed lost in thought for a moment, but then, without warning, reached out, two fingers curling gently around Zhao Ran’s right hand.

Through the rough deerskin gloves, the warmth of Zhao Ran’s palm seeped into his fingertips.

Zhao Ran’s body stiffened, a shudder running up his spine as the warmth spread through his arm. His instinct screamed to pull away, but Yu An’s eyes were on him, filled with a yearning that made refusal feel like an act of violence.

He forced his fingers to relax, silently taking Yu An’s hand in his, his grip tightening around the small, warm fingers.

The distance between them, only a few feet, now seemed unbearable. Zhao Ran’s annoyance flared. He tore off his tie and tossed it onto the sofa, fighting the impulse to hurl himself into the maddening void of his thoughts.

He sank into the couch, and Yu An, without hesitation, crawled into his lap, his small form curling against Zhao Ran’s chest.

This boy had an uncanny way of knowing just how to unsettle him. Zhao Ran had intended to reprimand him for the mischief he caused during the equipment test, but now, Yu An lay there in a soft, almost pathetic repose, as though some great injustice had been done to him.

“Are you planning to lock me up?” Yu An tilted his head, his voice low, as though speaking to a conspirator. “Every time I step outside, they drag me back.” he said, gesturing at the little hands still moving about the room.

“Why would you even want to go outside?” 

“I’m bored.”

“You never said you were bored when you were home. I could have taken you out to have fun.”

“When you’re home, I’m not bored.” Yu An’s head rested against Zhao Ran’s chest, his hands drifting around his neck, fiddling with the sharp point of the awl.

Is he absentmindedly playing with it? Or is he subconsciously preparing for something far darker? Maybe pierce my skull in the next moment? Zhao Ran couldn’t tell, but there was a constant thrill to being near him—a restless tension, as though the next moment could bring chaos or, perhaps, something worse.

Yu An’s cheek brushed against his ear, and the sounds of the little hands working in the kitchen, the distant clink of dishes, and the damp air from the laundry room drifted over them. Yu An’s cool skin pressed against Zhao Ran’s, his breath a soft, almost imperceptible whisper against his neck.

Zhao Ran closed his eyes briefly, torn between a strange desire to pull away and the dark pull to draw him closer. He grabbed Yu An by the neck, pulling him up slightly and brushing his lips across the corner of Yu An’s mouth. To his surprise, Yu An deepened the kiss instantly, cupping his face with both hands and forcing his tongue between Zhao Ran’s lips, sliding past his teeth with a painful sharpness. The faint, metallic taste of blood filled the air, mingling with their breaths.

Yu An didn’t stop there. He grabbed Zhao Ran’s hand.

“Take off your gloves.” he murmured, insistent, his voice low with a hunger Zhao Ran couldn’t ignore. His fingers fumbled with the clasp, struggling to pull it free. When it proved too difficult, Yu An, with no hesitation, bit at the glove, trying to tear it off with his teeth. In his haste, he nipped Zhao Ran’s fingertip.

Zhao Ran’s pupils constricted, his body freezing for a moment, before his gaze darkened. A deep, unsettling red crept over his irises.

“…Only one glove.” he whispered, his voice low and strained. “If you take both off, I won’t be able to control it.”

His other hand gently rested on Yu An’s lower back. The memories of his older brother teasing him about his hands since childhood echoed in his mind, but a darker desire stirred deep inside him—the desire for Yu An to touch these so-called “dirty” parts of him.

“Turn off the lights,” Zhao Ran murmured, his voice tight. “And stop staring.”