Inside the room, a brief silence fell between Ren Yi and Evans.
Ren Yi floated slowly in a circle through the air, trailing several misty, cloud-like tentacles behind him. He looked both eerie and... well, oddly ethereal.
Seeing Evans's silence, a sudden playful urge struck him.
“So, what's your conclusion?” Ren Yi spoke, his voice echoing from the center of the white cloud.
“Pops must have his own channels for gathering information within the City of the Sky Lake.”
Evans was snapped out of his thoughts by Ren Yi's voice. “To put it simply, he has a mole.”
“That is one of the things... he's hiding.”
The tips of Ren Yi's tentacles curled slightly, as if nodding. “And? What else do you think he's keeping from us?”
Evans fell silent for a moment. The black liquid spread slowly across the floor before contracting back, as if he were formulating and discarding ideas over and over.
“I don't know,” he finally said. “There's too little information.”
“What do you plan to do?” Ren Yi pressed, relentlessly pursuing the topic.
Evans seemed to ponder seriously for a moment before delivering a bombshell: “How about we just go ask him tomorrow?”
Floating in midair, Ren Yi suddenly froze. If his levitation weren't an innate talent, he probably would have plummeted to the floor.
The white cloud swelled abruptly, and several of his tentacles twisted together like pretzels, tying themselves into knots in the air.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I told you to think, not to charge in headfirst!” Ren Yi's voice pitched up half an octave.
“Ask who? Are you going to burst into Pops' office, unleash your ultimate right in front of him and that Sword-man, and demand, ‘You'd better tell us the truth’?”
Evans's black liquid quickly rippled into a “calm down” expression. “No, no, of course not. I'm not crazy.”
Then, he muttered to himself.
“So we have to do it when the Sword-man isn't around...”
Ren Yi extended a misty, condensed tentacle and clutched what presumably served as his head in agony.
“Ahem, I'm kidding, just kidding!”
Evans quickly backpedaled, his tone turning serious.
“What I mean is, didn't you say the Sword-man was acting a bit suspicious? I think we can probe him.”
Ren Yi's tentacle relaxed, returning to his normal shape in exasperation. Instead of answering immediately, he floated slowly toward Evans's poorly simulated face.
In human terms, this was a highly scrutinizing posture.
“Don't do anything stupid,” Ren Yi warned.
“Don't worry.” Evans's tone was relaxed. “Trust me, that guy won't get mad. More importantly...”
He leaned in a little closer, the black liquid on his face twisting into a sly smirk.
“That guy has no filter whatsoever.”
The two then discussed their next steps and plans in detail.
With that, their conversation drew to a close.
However, a small interlude occurred at this moment.
While they were talking, Wu Erhun had been lying quietly in the corner of the table.
Ever since this guy had returned to Evans's hands, he had been in an incredibly docile state.
His cross-shaped body was curled into a ball, with his longer vertical bar tucked against his side.
In fact, ever since Ren Yi and Evans began discussing Pops and the mole, Wu Erhun had remained in this exact posture.
Shaking like a sieve.
To be precise, he was trembling at a visible frequency, his bar tapping lightly against the surface with a soft “clack-clack-clack.”
Ren Yi had noticed this long ago, but he hadn't bothered to do anything about it.
He wasn't entirely off-guard, of course; he had simply replaced everything Wu Erhun could hear of their conversation with meaningless white noise, leaving no room for any leaks.
Now that they were finished, Ren Yi lifted the auditory shielding.
However, as soon as Wu Erhun sensed that the two big bosses had finished their chat, he suddenly sprang into action.
Using his single long bar, he propped himself up with a sudden leap, the entire cross bouncing off the floor and landing shakily on the tabletop.
The flattering grin on his cross-shaped face looked exceptionally creepy under the moonlight, but his voice was extremely cautious:
“Um, the loyal Wu Erhun is at your service, great masters. Are you finished talking?”
“Well... would you like to hear a bedtime story?”
Ren Yi turned around.
Evans's black liquid also stopped rippling.
The two monsters stared at the cross simultaneously. Their expressions—if they had expressions—were uncannily identical: confusion.
“What?” Evans was the first to ask.
He scrutinized Wu Erhun from top to bottom, his black liquid rippling around his neck as if trying to determine if the little creature had lost its mind.
They had just been analyzing their allies and enemies, the mole, and Pops' true intentions in a serious, life-or-death battle of wits. Even if Wu Erhun couldn't hear them, surely he could feel the tense atmosphere, right?
Why on earth did he suddenly jump to a “bedtime story”?
Did he have a screw loose?
“Ahem, cough, cough...” Wu Erhun cleared his throat awkwardly, his grin becoming even more obsequious.
“Well, it's just that I suddenly realized... since I have already pledged my loyalty to you two great masters...”
“But you still don't know anything about my past great achievements! That is simply unacceptable!”
Before his voice could even fade...
Inside the cloud of mist around Ren Yi's waist, the mushroom that had been perfectly quiet suddenly popped, growing a tiny new mushroom.
The newly sprouted one was only the size of a fingernail, squeezing itself snugly next to the old mushroom like a little sidekick.
The world instantly fell dead silent.
Wu Erhun's smile froze on his cross. The presence of that tiny mushroom made the air extremely, painfully awkward.
Evans fell into deep thought.
A tentacle of black liquid extended silently, slowly wrapping around the upper half of the cross and lifting Wu Erhun into the air.
Wu Erhun's single bar kicked wildly in the air, like a cat being held by the scruff of its neck.
“Is that so?” Evans's voice was slow and measured, carrying a gentle tone that made every living thing's hair stand on end.
“Loyal Wu Erhun? Are you sensing my hunger and deliberately giving me an excuse to fill my stomach?”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Wu Erhun's voice trembled violently. “Great master, let me explain! That's not what I meant!”
“Then what did you mean?” Evans's tentacle tightened slightly, causing a faint cracking sound to emanate from the cross.
“I really just wanted to tell you about my past!” Wu Erhun blurted out frantically, his grinning face distorting with panic. “There's no other motive! I just... I just wanted to...”
A soft crack sounded.
Wu Erhun shut his mouth.
But the tiny mushroom didn't grow any larger, nor did any new ones sprout.
Ren Yi looked down at the mushroom and gently tapped the tiny, light-green cap with a tentacle. The mushroom didn't react.
No lies. At least that last sentence was true.
Evans's tentacle loosened slightly, though he didn't let go of Wu Erhun.
He tilted his head at the cross, the black liquid on his face morphing into an expression that clearly said: You'd better give me a reasonable explanation.
Ren Yi, on the other hand, found himself intrigued.
The cloud of white mist drifted a bit closer, resting a few tentacles on the edge of the table. He was rather curious about what little scheme Wu Erhun was cooking up.
“Go on, tell us,” he asked. “Why the sudden urge to tell us this?”
Rate on N.U.
