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Lin Sanjiu opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She turned her head to look, and the hole in the roof was pitch black, as if the building had opened its mouth and was about to sigh.
‘Former posthuman? He isn’t a posthuman anymore?’
The man downstairs spoke again.
He probably knew that his audience at the moment wouldn’t know what to say. Hence, he muttered softly, “I remember abilities and items with psychic powers were the first to become ineffective. Then came other types of evolved abilities and items… The enhanced physical abilities last the longest but still decline. Before all abilities disappeared, I managed to register my identity, and I became legitimate. As for now… If someone nearby uses an evolved ability, I can still vaguely sense it. My five senses are still relatively sharp, and I usually win in arm wrestling or speed comparison with ordinary people.”
Every word was understandable, but together, they seemed so unrealistic.
Lin Sanjiu’s mind swirled with countless questions that wanted to be released. Then suddenly, her heart skipped a beat, and she asked softly, “Since you know I’m here, why haven’t you sounded the alarm?”
“Alarms won’t work. Security personnel are just ordinary people. Facing you, they won’t gain anything but risk their lives in vain.”
Lin Sanjiu was about to say that she wouldn’t kill indiscriminately, but she thought better of it and swallowed back her words. In a moment, the alarm system inside the museum would be triggered by the falling manhole covers. This wasn’t the place for conversation—until she confirmed that the person had no malicious intent and her safety could be guaranteed, it might be better to let him think she, like most posthumans, didn’t care about human life.
“It seems you’ve been among ordinary people for a long time,” she said with intentional coldness, “and your heart has become so soft. You’re even worried about others’ lives.”
“You don’t understand,” the man said, wanting to explain but unable to find the words. “The death of a person is a big deal in modern society. It’s not just a matter of life and death.”
“What do you want?” Since this man no longer had evolved abilities and still risked confronting posthumans, he clearly had a purpose.
“I know why you stole those Special Items. If I had just arrived in this world and saw Special Items appearing in the museum, I would have stolen them too. But now you know they are useless to posthumans.”
The man stood close to the base of the building, sighing and saying, “However, for me, they mean something different. As the head of security, I’ll be in huge trouble if you take them away tonight. With no professional skills, education, or even evolved abilities, do you think it was easy for me to find a job here? I can’t afford to lose it. In their eyes, I’m already over forty, and it would be difficult for me to find another job.”
1
Lin Sanjiu had never thought about this point.
It seemed she had immersed herself too long in the doomsday universe—every meal earned, every place to sleep, had to be fought for with her own strength against others and against the world, gradually grasping them bit by bit. Although sometimes it was unbearable, it also gave posthumans a sense of control: she had the power to decide for herself, and anyone who wanted to interfere had to defeat or kill her.
To have her livelihood depending so much on something beyond her control…she had almost forgotten what that felt like.
“My proposal is simple.” While she was lost in thought, the man continued, “Since those useless things are in your possession, why not give them back to me and save my job… If I handled the situation well, I might even get a bonus. And for you, whatever information you need, as long as I know it, I can tell you everything.”
Lin Sanjiu looked at the card in her hand. She was determined to steal from the museum in the first place, but she just wanted to discover some information. Collecting a few more Special Items was extra; since they were all unusable, in her opinion, she might as well exchange them for some news about this world.
“How do I know you’ll tell me the truth?” She still didn’t completely trust him.
The man sighed again, seeming quite troubled. “I only realized now that posthumans are difficult to deal with,” he muttered softly. “I’ve kept my deductions about this world to myself for over three years. I’d be happy to share them with you. Besides, I’m no different from an ordinary person now. I can live a peaceful life every day. Even if I deceive you to death, what benefit would it bring me?”
As he spoke, he also complained, “Posthumans are like this; they have no basic trust in people. It’s not something that can be explained by caution anymore. To put it bluntly, it’s illogical, just suspicious, like a mental illness. Unless you spend a few years in modern society, you won’t realize how serious your problem is.”
“You used to be like that, too.”
The man paused and admitted from below the building, “Yes.”
She had taken a considerable risk by staying a few minutes longer. “But I can’t stay here for long—”
The security captain interrupted her. “I know. Leave the things with me, and I’ll give you my phone.”
“Huh?”
“Go wherever you want; I won’t ask. I’ll call you tomorrow when I have time. If you receive a call with the caller ID showing ‘Darling Wife,’ it’s me calling you.”
Lin Sanjiu was silent for a while, digesting the information. “Y-you’re married?”
“Introduced by the company,” the man said shyly. “I just got married six months ago.”
Was this person really a former posthuman? Lin Sanjiu felt a bit dazed and responded absent-mindedly, “Okay then. Give me the phone first. Oh, and your work ID, too.”
There was no reason to doubt that he wasn’t the head of security—this was a museum at three in the morning. Except for the security personnel inside the museum, the chances of outsiders appearing here were slim. After she said it, she realized it herself; she indeed had some paranoid and almost irrational suspicion that was typical of posthumans.
“The…” The man took a deep breath, seeming to find it difficult to speak. “The building is quite high, and I’m afraid I won’t throw it accurately.”
Lin Sanjiu leaned over the edge of the roof to look down. Although they had been talking for a while, this was the first time she saw the other person: a dark head at the base of the wall and a body in a uniform standing on the grass. Just a glance made her sense the body’s softness and weakness after it had lost strength.
“Is this high?” She assessed the height, surprised. “I’m not asking you to jump up here. Just throw it into the air.”
The man removed his work ID from his neck, made sure he could retrieve it and used the ID’s strap to tie the phone up before throwing it into the air. Lin Sanjiu’s Higher Consciousness flashed mid-air like a frog’s tongue and caught its prey.
“Han Jun,” she said, looking at the name on the ID. The photo showed a solid, square face smiling at the camera. The phone was used frequently, and the most recently opened app was a fruit-cutting game. The contact list had over two hundred names. Undoubtedly, this former posthuman named Han Jun had successfully established a new life in this world.
The six former Special Items had become completely useless and couldn’t even produce a ripple effect, so Lin Sanjiu threw them away one by one. Han Jun hurriedly caught these exhibits below, occasionally exclaiming, “Huh? Was this also a Special Item before?” When he had collected everything, he sincerely said, “Thank you. I know you could have just left… With this, I get to keep my job.”
Lin Sanjiu felt a bit embarrassed. She turned around and looked, realizing she had made a big hole in the roof, and just coughed, “Then I’ll leave. Contact you tomorrow.”
When she left the museum, she used the same method: she was like a big bird, cutting through the wind and the night, crossing the sky. She could feel Han Jun’s gaze staying on her until she was out of sight. He used to be able to easily do this, but now he could only stand on the ground and look up.
Since her speculation was confirmed, Lin Sanjiu hadn’t really thought about it. Sometimes, when people hear important news, they need to let it sink in and calm down before facing it—she was like that now. After leaving the museum, she had nowhere to go and couldn’t spare the energy to think about where to go. She wandered a few streets away for a while, finally stopping and staring blankly at her hands.
Han Jun had been here for over three years without being sent away, and yet the world continued to run smoothly like this.
Did that mean, in the normal sense of the word, that doomsday would never come? Could the magician Anida, that religious leader, and the lunatic all have been posthumans who have gradually disappeared from this world?
Wasn’t that a good thing? For any posthuman, escaping the life-and-death struggles of doomsday and returning to a safe and stable society was a dream come true.
Then why was she trembling all over?