Chapter 98: Coexistence

When Qi Ran awoke from her coma, she had no idea how much time had passed.

The last scene in her memory was sitting in a chair, waiting for her physical examination number to be called. Then, in an instant, everything turned upside down. She was flung away like a rag, slammed into the wall on the opposite side, rolled up to the ceiling, and finally crashed back down to the floor. After that, everything cut to black. There hadn’t even been a fraction of a second to register surprise.

After a fit of coughing so violent it felt like her bones would rattle apart, she curled up weakly. Though she didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, every part of her body ached. It was as if a hundred kangaroos had used her as a punching bag. She tried moving her limbs and discovered her left ankle had no sensation at all. It felt like a cold, dead slab of meat.

Aside from the left ankle, her right leg and both arms still seemed to have some feeling. Every breath burned in her lungs, sounding like a clattering old exhaust fan. Each cough brought up stagnant blood. Her vision still flickered with black spots. The omnipresent pain kept her in a state of brief clarity, and she gasped cold air, slowly easing into and adapting to the agony.

Adapting. Yes, adapting to pain. Just as always. She couldn’t escape it anyway, so she could only think about how to coexist with the suffering more comfortably.

A thin layer of water covered the floor. She lay on her back in it, lacking even the strength to sit up.

Drip… drop… the sound of water echoed.

Her surroundings weren’t quiet. There seemed to be a lot of noise in the distance. Her line of sight showed a silent hall, wrecked to an almost exaggerated degree. It looked like an excavator had rampaged through, destroying everything. Most of the walls had collapsed, exposing the reinforced concrete within, like open wounds.

She tried again, finding she still couldn’t muster an ounce of strength. Although she could move her hands, it was only just that—movement. The muscles in her arms were soft as noodles, utterly incapable of supporting her.

Could she really only inchworm her way out to call for help? That would be far too humiliating, Qi Ran thought with some conflict. In truth, she had another option: to end things cleanly. After all, with Miss Ah Qiao’s protection, she would resurrect at full health. But the problem was, in her current state, dying was difficult. There were no sharp objects around. If she truly wanted to die, she could only bite her tongue off.

Even if someone actually handed her a knife, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to stab her own neck. That kind of courage was a bit beyond her scope. The thought gave Qi Ran a headache.

She wasn’t really wallowing in self-pity. She could only say life’s beatings had truly worn down her temper. She was completely resigned. Her luck was so bad her teeth would break just drinking water. No matter what she did, an accident would happen—going to Li Siwen’s construction site, she was attacked by the lanky trenchcoat man; looking for Qi Xin, she was forced to enter that strange shop for the first time; searching for Li Wanying’s home, she was strangled to death; going to the Su Family Building, the Su Family Building caught fire; going to the orphanage, she was forced into that shop again; wanting to hold a party with Team Two, Team Two immediately disbanded, and the Team Leader got branded a deserter…

Under such relentless tempering, she honestly felt she’d forged a remarkably good mindset. Anyone with a slightly weaker mentality, facing these constant unexpected misfortunes, would have gotten so depressed they’d want to slam their head into a block of tofu and end it all.

Just what were Miss Ah Qiao and Tao Xiao doing? She felt incredibly tired. Not just physical exhaustion, but mental fatigue too. Miss Ah Qiao gave her an address. Upon arriving, she’d find the next clue, which pointed to another address… She was running around like a dog, chasing points of light, with no idea what awaited her at the finish line. Maybe it really was a sweet reward, but it was chocolate, and eating it would kill her.

Forget it. I’ve had enough. She let out a silent sigh. Whatever. She was practically half-crippled now anyway. Even if Miss Ah Qiao was a black-hearted exploiter, by all rights and logic, she should be allowed to rest.

Strangely, once she held this thought, she actually felt physically, substantially lighter. Even the pain lessened considerably.

A heavy drowsiness surged up. Curled up like that, she fell into a dead sleep once more.

The next time she woke, it was from choking on cold water.

After a brief coughing fit, she subconsciously licked her slightly chapped lips but couldn’t open her eyes—the blinding glare of a flashlight pointed directly at her face. She seemed to no longer be in that hall, but lying on a dismantled wooden door.

“Finally awake,” a girl’s voice ground out, sounding somewhat familiar. “What’s the matter, Eldest Miss? Got separated from your babysitter?”

Qi Ran squinted, pausing briefly. Her mind raced: the most troublesome thing has finally happened… The girl’s voice wasn’t unfamiliar; it was very familiar, in fact. It was one of the four-person group she’d met in the Su Family Building—Paper Cutter. The problem was, she currently looked like Qi Xin—and Qi Xin, as it happened, didn’t have the best relationship with these four.

“You’d better understand your current situation,” a boy said in a low voice. Qi Ran identified his voice as the one called Hyena. His tone was slightly cold. “Don’t make us do something you’ll regret, something we’ll regret too.”

Qi Ran touched her left ankle and found a simple splint had been applied.

“I am Qi Xin’s younger sister, Qi Ran,” she stated, keeping her words as concise as possible. “My hair is a disguise Greasepaint did for me. As payment, I need to help her get you out. That’s all there is to it.”

Hyena paused slightly. He hadn’t expected to hear Greasepaint’s name from this girl’s mouth. For a moment, he didn’t know whether to believe her or not—those three decisive and ruthless gunshots back in the building still made his heart palpitate with lingering fear.

“Say whatever you want,” Dry Wood spoke this time, his tone very indifferent. “Whether you’re Qi Xin or Qi Ran makes no difference to us. If you want to get out of here alive, tell us everything you know.”

He paused, shaking the object in his hand. “If I think a single word out of your mouth sounds like a lie, I’ll blow your head off with one shot—just like you did to Greasepaint back then. Or rather, like your sister did to Greasepaint. Whichever way you prefer to put it, use that. Understand?”

Qi Ran felt a bit helpless. These escaped convicts actually had guns in their hands… What exactly were the Executors doing? They were being humiliated right in their faces. Didn’t they have any contingency plans? She vaguely guessed that the Pingjiang Execution Team Headquarters had been invaded by outsiders, and this Welfare Institute group of four had escaped in the chaos. The information they currently possessed didn’t seem much greater than her own. And this might just be an opportunity—an opportunity for her.

“Fine,” she said, eyes still closed. “Just a heads-up first: this is also my first time at Pingjiang Execution Team Headquarters. Before this, I’ve only been to Team Two. So if you ask me about this place, I really can’t help much.”

The flashlight’s bright beam was switched off. She slowly opened her eyes to find herself in a not-so-spacious room. Sitting before her were indeed Hyena and the others, all wearing hospital gowns, each holding a gun. Noticing Qi Ran’s gaze lingering on the guns, Dry Wood just grinned:

“Borrowed them from the owners. They didn’t object.”

Qi Ran knew he was intimidating her, but she nodded cooperatively anyway. There was no need to provoke a thug holding a gun.

“On our way up, we saw many bodies. Most died in explosions,” Hyena said in a low voice. “The cell doors on Sublevel Two were all unlocked. Don’t know who did it. But we heard Sublevel Three was unlocked too. So we didn’t linger and left there directly for the higher floors.”

Qi Ran paused briefly. She had heard about the Execution Division’s underground detention area. The correct term wasn’t “prisoners,” probably more like “detainees,” since most of their offenses weren’t major. Just like the youths before her—truth be told, patients who committed truly serious crimes never got the chance to be captured. Most were executed on the spot. Only those whose crimes didn’t warrant death, and if the Executor handling the case happened to have the leisure to make an arrest, and if there were vacant rooms in the detention block, would a patient qualify to be imprisoned.

But some special detention rooms were different. The prisoners held there all had unique points—either their identity was special, their Syndrome was special, or some other factor was special, restricting the Executors from being able to kill them, yet also unwilling to set them free.