After arriving in Area 25, Lansi looked at the distant high wall with shock written all over his face.
He had imagined what the high walls built by humans would look like. In his mind, they would probably just be tall slabs of concrete.
But now that he saw it with his own eyes, the sheer scale of the wall was overwhelming.
Standing beneath it, people looked as tiny as ants.
With his sharp hearing, Lansi could hear the waves crashing behind the wall and the thunderous roar of the sea striking the cliffs.
So close to the ocean?
"The sea is behind the wall."
The captain misunderstood Lansi's surprise, thinking he was simply amazed by the wall itself rather than the fact that the sea lay directly beyond it.
Their five-man squad walked along the base of the towering structure.
Seeing Lansi stop repeatedly to stare upward, the captain assumed that someone who had grown up in the League had never witnessed such a sight before, so he explained:
"This wall can only block smaller sea monsters. If one of the big guys from Sunset Bay comes ashore, it'll only take some time before it climbs over and gets inside."
Does he mean Quirrell?
Lansi immediately thought of Quirrell's eighteen tentacles and could not help but marvel. If Quirrell did not have a psychological aversion to coming ashore, the wall before them would be nothing to him.
After admiring Area 25's famous landmark—the High Wall—Lansi continued patrolling with the squad.
Area 25 was indeed completely different from Area 19. Comparing the two made people sigh at how unfair the world could be.
Although the residents of Area 19 were not as wealthy as those in the rich districts, most people at least had jobs that allowed them to support themselves and their families. Because of that, Area 19 remained relatively orderly.
But in Area 25, Lansi could only think of one word:
"Chaos."
The entire place was synonymous with poverty and disorder.
Just by following the patrol team around, Lansi had already witnessed more than a dozen thefts, broken up three fights, and even seen one case of an adulterer being chased down through the streets.
It was practically a paradise for criminals.
After several rounds of inspections, Lansi began to feel exhausted.
"Lansi, I heard you're from Area 25."
The captain had finally remembered the information in Lansi's file, and he looked at him in surprise.
"Why didn't you just say so from the beginning?"
Lansi: "..."
Say what? What would happen after he admitted it?
At that moment, Huang Mao jabbed the captain in the elbow, signaling for him to stop talking.
There was nothing honorable about being born here. Huang Mao could somewhat understand why Lansi had chosen to hide it.
"Yo, isn't this my little brother?"
While the five squad members were exchanging glances, someone suddenly approached them.
All five turned to look.
Even though the area was chaotic and law enforcement was practically useless, people usually restrained themselves a little when they saw reserve soldiers. It was rare to encounter someone bold enough to walk straight up and start talking to them.
Lansi looked at the man in confusion.
Who is this?
The man smiled meaningfully at him before stepping closer. Acting especially familiar, he slung an arm around Lansi's shoulders and tried to pull him toward a nearby alley.
"What's wrong? Aren't you coming home with your brother for a visit?"
Lansi was completely stunned by the word "brother."
Who is this person? Why is he doing this?
Hidden from the rest of the squad's sight, the man quietly pinched Lansi's cheek and whispered:
"So soft... Tsk. My name is Matt. I'm 'Lansi's' brother. If you don't want people getting suspicious, you'd better play along."
Lansi blinked.
"Who are you?"
The squad leader reacted first. He immediately stepped forward and pulled Lansi back to prevent him from being dragged away while glaring warily at Matt.
"We're currently on a mission. Lansi is my team member and cannot leave the squad without authorization."
"Alright, alright."
Matt immediately let go of Lansi and said to the others casually,
"That's enough for today. Hey, Lansi, if you've got time, remember to visit your brother."
After speaking, the green-haired man flashed Lansi a grin before turning and disappearing into the alley beside them.
The entire squad watched him leave.
Only after Matt was gone did the captain ask nervously:
"Is he really your brother?"
Lansi subconsciously glanced at the spot on his arm where the identity chip had been implanted not long ago.
After hesitating for a moment, he answered:
"Probably."
"That guy doesn't look like a good person at all."
The captain failed to notice the uncertainty in Lansi's tone and instead became increasingly indignant on his behalf.
"Is he really your biological brother? You didn't join the reserve army just to get away from him, did you?"
Seeing Lansi remain silent, the captain immediately spun an entire drama in his head.
It had to be because Lansi didn't want to rot away here with his brother, so he had desperately struggled to escape this place by joining the reserve army, hoping to free himself from his miserable past.
Yet fate had played a cruel joke on him. After going in circles, he had ended up back here again—perhaps even destined to be threatened by his own brother.
After a long silence, Lansi finally said:
"Once today's mission is over, we'll head back."
Although the entire situation felt strange to him, Lansi had no intention of dragging the others into it.
The captain exchanged glances with the others and wisely stopped pursuing the topic.
After all, even upright officials found it difficult to interfere in family matters, much less them.
When the patrol mission finally ended, Lansi did not return directly to Wen Yu's dormitory.
First, because he was still angry with Wen Yu.
He had thought about it carefully. Whether it was Winsor, Wen Yu, or even that strange Weir, why was he always the one forced to take a step back whenever things became awkward?
This time, he wanted to see what Wen Yu would do if he refused to back down.
And if Wen Yu did nothing...
Then perhaps such a man was not worth keeping.
Secondly, Lansi understood that Matt had deliberately approached him.
He wanted to know what exactly Matt was after.
Lansi walked into the same alley where they had met earlier and found Matt leaning against the wall, smoking.
White smoke curled lazily through the air. Beneath the orange glow of the setting sun, Matt's thin figure rested against the wall, cigarette butts scattered around his feet. It was impossible to tell how long he had been waiting there.
Lansi could not clearly see his expression, but from the man's silhouette alone, he somehow sensed a trace of loneliness.
Maybe it was just his imagination.
"Yo, little brother."
The moment Matt saw Lansi arrive, he instantly returned to his usual cynical demeanor. Pushing himself off the wall, he casually crushed the cigarette in his hand.
Lansi's face flushed slightly before he finally said:
"We need to talk."
"Of course we do, my dear little brother."
Matt beckoned him over, clearly pleased that Lansi had actually come.
"Come on, let's go home first. Then we can have a proper talk."
Lansi pressed his lips together but eventually followed after him.
After leaving the alley, Matt led Lansi deeper into the slums.
During patrols, Lansi and the others usually stayed on the main streets.
No matter how poor Area 25 was, the streets still managed to preserve a thin layer of dignity. But the moment he followed Matt into the slums, that final fig leaf was ripped away, exposing the ugly truth of Area 25.
Dirty wastewater flowed openly through the alleys. Large and small container houses were stacked together haphazardly. Tangled electrical wires crisscrossed overhead, sometimes mixed with pieces of hanging laundry.
The people passing through the narrow alleys all wore different expressions.
Some were ragged and skeletal, obviously addicts at first glance.
Others hunched their backs as they brushed past Lansi and Matt, their eyes shifting restlessly.
Lansi even began to wonder whether the people living here ever got to see sunlight.
"Alright, stop looking around."
Matt glanced back at Lansi, pointed toward a dilapidated shack ahead of them, and said,
"We're almost home."
Lansi followed the direction of his finger and saw a rusted iron staircase leading up to a battered metal shack.
The entire "home" was covered in rust, making Lansi seriously doubt that whenever it rained, yellow rusty water would simply drip straight onto the ground.
Half an hour later, Lansi was kneeling beside a low coffee table inside the shack, a chipped porcelain cup sitting next to him.
When he lifted his head, he could see strips of clothing fluttering outside like colorful flags through a hole in the upper-left corner of the wall.
"You're pretty bold."
Matt sat across from Lansi with a grin. He casually tossed a few leaves into his cup, took a sip, and revealed an expression of exaggerated enjoyment.
There were no chairs in the shack, so the only way to sit was cross-legged on the floor.
The entire room was barely fifty square meters. Clothes and random junk were scattered everywhere.
There was furniture inside, but it was obvious at a glance that everything had been salvaged from garbage dumps. Some pieces were missing legs, while others lacked armrests entirely.
The only decent item in the room was probably the Simmons mattress in the corner, covered with a thin blanket.
"How do you know I'm 'Lansi'?"
Lansi asked directly.
Matt shot him a surprised glance before taking another sip from his cup, his face twisting with an indescribable expression from the bitter taste.
"You're pretty interesting. Just asking directly like that." He laughed. "I think I like you now. Your straightforward attitude is way better than all that scheming nonsense."
Lansi raised an eyebrow.
Interesting. The man before him did not seem particularly hostile.
He quietly glanced around the room again but found nothing resembling photographs.
In fact, there were barely any traces suggesting that more than one person had ever lived here.
"So let's be straightforward too," Matt said as he looked Lansi up and down.
It was obvious he had been momentarily dazzled by Lansi's delicate appearance, as though assuming the person before him would be easy to manipulate.
"The identity you're using originally belonged to my brother. If I report this, what do you think will happen to you?"
"Really?"
Lansi smiled faintly. He had already guessed as much.
"So what do you want?"
"Nothing much. Just one million."
Matt leaned back lazily.
"In a few days, the inspection team will come for a review. One million as hush money, and I'll definitely put in a good word for you."
Tilting his head slightly, Lansi replied:
"But I don't have a million."
"Oh, come on." Matt snorted. "A chip like yours sells for at least tens of millions on the black market. If you could afford one, how could you possibly not have a few million lying around?"
As he spoke, Matt pulled a knife from his jacket and placed it on the table, the threat obvious.
"And if you really don't have the money..." He slowly narrowed his eyes at Lansi's face. "Well, with looks like yours, you could still sell for a few million on the black market."
"Why are you so certain the inspection team will investigate me?"
Lansi remained completely calm.
From the previous sparring match between the reserve soldiers and Wen Yu, he had already realized that he overwhelmingly outclassed ordinary people.
And when the difference in strength reached such a level, most schemes and tricks became meaningless to him.
Besides, Lansi was genuinely curious about Matt.
"Let me guess..." Lansi said thoughtfully. "The original 'Lansi' probably hired you to kill me without anyone noticing. So now you're trying to bargain with me instead? Does he even know about this?"
Even if Matt was a killer, what kind of assassin openly told the target they were about to be murdered and then tried to negotiate prices with them instead?
Did he have no professional ethics whatsoever?
Matt burst out laughing.
"Why can't I bargain with you?"
"Well then."
Lansi shrugged casually.
"Go ahead and report it to the inspection team. Let them investigate properly and see whether I'm your brother... or whether he is."
The look in Matt's eyes changed instantly.
Actually, the logic was simple.
From Matt's perspective, the fact that Lansi had managed to obtain an identity chip and enter the reserve corps meant only one thing:
Lansi had backing. And money.
That was why Matt had initially wanted to extort a fortune from him.
But if the inspection team truly traced the identity issue back to the real "Lansi"...
Matt's actual brother had no background whatsoever.
One side had power and connections. The other had nothing.
In the end, who would suffer the consequences was obvious.
The next second, Matt's expression turned vicious.
He snatched up the knife from the table and slashed straight toward Lansi's throat—
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!"
A scream instantly rang out from inside the rusted shack.
.....
Lansi returned to Wen Yu's dormitory as usual.
The moment he opened the door, he saw Wen Yu sitting stiffly on the sofa in the living room.
Wen Yu's expression was terrible. He stared at Lansi without blinking, like some grim guardian statue watching the entrance.
Lansi blinked, walked inside, set down his helmet, and greeted the turtle on the coffee table first:
"I'm back."
[Back—now—good—good—you—two—don't—cold—war—ah—]
The sea turtle soaked inside its transparent tank while continuing to act as a gold-medal mediator.
Ignoring the turtle completely, Wen Yu asked coldly:
"What did you do today? You're three hours late."
Lansi sat down on the sofa, pulled a small bag from his waist, took out a tiny fish, and fed it to the turtle.
"You guess."
Wen Yu: "..."
[Cheat—ing—is—it—]
The turtle happily added fuel to the fire while munching on fish.
Lansi's hand twitched, and he nearly dumped the entire bag into the tank.
"And me?"
Wen Yu suddenly asked, his voice carrying a trace of grievance.
"I still haven't eaten."
During this time, although Wen Yu technically did not need food, he had developed the habit of waiting for Lansi to return home so they could cook and eat together.
If he had not been trying to preserve the final layer of his disguise, Wen Yu would have gladly turned even cooking into some intimate domestic game with Lansi.
"There are nutrient supplements in the refrigerator," Lansi replied mercilessly. "Take care of it yourself."
Then he added coldly:
"You're only my superior officer. And I'm off duty now."
Unless Wen Yu admitted that he was Winsor, Lansi had no intention of indulging him after work hours.
Wen Yu opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end he swallowed everything back down and sulked silently.
[He—only—late—one—time—you—two—can—still—make—up—]
The turtle continued offering "kind" advice while enthusiastically stirring trouble.
[No—green—hat—no—problem—]
Wen Yu: "..."
What green hat? How could someone even cuckold themselves?
"It's better if we keep some distance until you finally explain who is who."
Lansi stood up.
"I came back today to check on the turtle and pack my things. Sir, I think it's better if I move back to the dormitory."
After speaking, he walked into the bedroom. When he came out again, he was dragging a small suitcase behind him.
At that moment, Wen Yu panicked.
He immediately stood up and wrapped his arms tightly around Lansi's waist, refusing to let him leave.
"Don't go... What if your tail gets exposed?"
Lansi muttered stubbornly:
"Then let it be exposed. I'll just sell myself or something. At least I can pay back what I owe you."
"I won't allow it!"
Wen Yu completely lost his composure. All of his usual calmness and self-control vanished without a trace.
Now he looked less like the composed Wen Yu and more like an aggrieved child, clinging desperately to Lansi while refusing to let go.
"You can only show your tail to me," Wen Yu said stubbornly. "And you can only sing for me."
Before Lansi could react, Wen Yu directly lifted him into his arms and strode toward the bedroom.
Bang—
The bedroom door slammed shut.
Sounds of struggling soon came from inside the room, though they gradually quieted down after a while.
The room fell silent for some time.
Then faint whimpering sounds from the mermaid drifted out from inside the bedroom. Before long, the whimpers slowly turned into soft sobs.
Meanwhile, the turtle scratched eagerly against the side of its tank, its tiny bean-like eyes fixed enviously on the bedroom door.
[See—I—said—two—people—fight—once—a—day—good—for—relationship—]
Back in its glorious younger days, there had been plenty of female turtles willing to lay eggs for it every year.