Tuer l'amour

Chapitre 7

As I walked out of the bedroom with my head down, I immediately looked up and saw Liu Er sitting at the dining table in the living room, picking up a pan-fried dumpling with his chopsticks.

"You went out?" I asked hurriedly.

"No."

"Then why didn't I see you when I came in? I've checked several rooms."

"You didn't see clearly, did you? I'm in the bathroom. How could I possibly go out looking like this?" Six Ears shook his fur; he didn't look like an ape, but rather like a bear. A black bear.

Liu Er put the pan-fried bun into his mouth and chewed it.

"But I think I heard the door close," I said, frowning.

"You must have misheard." Liu Er's voice was muffled. He swallowed the pan-fried bun and pointed towards the bedroom: "I've kept the key you gave me in the bedside table drawer. Besides, where do you think I could go? Walking up and down the stairs in this building?"

I glanced at the bathroom door, which was ajar. Liu Er was right; I must have missed it. But the mention of taking the stairs reminded me of that late night when I was groping my way up and down the dark stairwell.

I took apart a pair of disposable wooden chopsticks and sat down opposite Liu Er.

"I bought these from Youlian Shengjian. They taste pretty good, right?"

"It's delicious." Liu Er suddenly stopped eating, looked at me, and said, "Thank you."

I didn't know what to say for a moment, so I just smiled.

"I look awful when I look in the mirror," Liu Er said, tugging at the long hair on his face. "Actually, we haven't known each other for long. Saying thank you is too insincere."

I coughed and said, "Eat something, don't get cold."

These past two days, Yang Hua's seat has been particularly lively.

The Southern Metropolis Daily has been publishing a series of reports in recent days by its special correspondent in Shanghai, Ge Fei, about the "mysterious crackdown on Shanghai homeless groups," and soon all the media outlets across the country have turned their attention to Shanghai. This Ge Fei is none other than Yang Hua.

Yang Hua now only publishes short articles from correspondents at his own newspaper, or edits articles by intern reporters; he devotes most of his energy to following up on this case. This kind of thing is best kept secret from superiors, as long as Lan Tou (the head of the newspaper) doesn't find out.

"So, any new developments?" Japanese soldier Tang asked Yang Hua in a low voice, clinging to the partition.

"Oh my, this is getting interesting..." Yang Hua drawled out, seemingly trying to keep the audience in suspense.

I gestured towards Lin Haiyin, the most beautiful girl in the club, who glanced at Yang Hua and laughed, "Brother Hua, are you still keeping us in suspense?"

Lin Haiyin was naturally charming, and her effectiveness was worlds apart from that of the Japanese soldier Tang, who had been winking and making faces at her since earlier.

"Ha, I won't keep you in suspense any longer." Yang Hua grinned, his red pimples on his chin standing out brightly.

"Breaking news, this happened yesterday afternoon. This is even more serious than the previous two cases. I don't think any of you will see that little beggar clinging to your leg begging for money these days."

Lin Haiyin blushed and said, "What are you talking about? What big thigh?"

Several men were giving her lustful glances at her beautiful legs, which were clad in a miniskirt.

"Slip of the tongue, slip of the tongue." Yang Hua quickly looked back and said with a grin, "It's calf, calf."

A chorus of admiration rippled through the crowd; the curves of Lin Haiyin's calves were even more captivating than her alluring eyes.

"You'd better speak politely, or I'm going back to write my manuscript." Lin Haiyin made a move to leave.

She was just saying it casually; would she really be afraid to wear a miniskirt if she were truly afraid to look?

"Tell me, tell me, you all know that there's someone pulling the strings behind those little beggars at the train station, right?"

"Of course, not just the train station, everywhere is one."

"But the power at the train station is the strongest. Their underlings don't just operate at the train station; they're everywhere on the surrounding streets. The younger ones become beggars, and the slightly older ones become thieves. Even when they're sent out to work, there are always people watching them, and if anything seems amiss, they'll swarm around them. And many of these kids have razor blades hidden in their collars; if you grab their collar, you're in trouble."

Lin Haiyin recoiled, gasping for breath as if her hand had been cut by a razor blade.

"Yesterday afternoon, our hideout was raided. It was an abandoned freight warehouse. There were 60 or 70 people, and not one of them was seriously injured. One of them died when the police arrived, and two others are in the hospital being treated. It's hard to say whether they can be saved. One of them had his spine broken into several pieces, and even if he survives, he will be crippled. Just like the previous two times, the gang leader, a guy nicknamed Centipede, was forced to write a confession."

"That's really amazing!" exclaimed Zhang Jijie, the Japanese soldier.

"It's said that the guy stipulated that the centipede had to write thirty lines, and if you were even a little slow, he'd cut off your little finger. He said if you wrote fast enough, you'd have enough time to reattach it when the police arrived. The centipede's howling was so loud that everyone around who was still breathing thought they'd committed several crimes."

"He's practically Spider-Man!" Zhang, a passionate young man, exclaimed with admiration.

"Although the method is the same, it's not the same person as the previous two days."

"Huh?" The group of people listening to the story were all very surprised.

Yang Hua raised his eyebrows, quite pleased with himself: "My insider at the Municipal Bureau told me that, according to the descriptions of those unlucky guys who got beaten up, although the methods used in these three cases were the same and all involved lone wolves, the appearance and physique of each person were completely different. This time it was a woman."

"A woman?" Several pairs of eyes widened in surprise.

"It's a woman," Yang Hua said with certainty.

"So there's a group of people, and they're all incredibly skilled fighters?" I asked, intrigued.

Yang Hua nodded emphatically: "That's right. Although only one person is sent each time, it seems to be done very easily."

"My God," Tang, the Japanese soldier, said, his face flushed, "How did he manage to take on sixty or seventy people at once? What kind of kung fu did he practice?"

Yang Hua chuckled coldly a few times, and as our heads drew closer and closer, he suddenly spread his hands: "No comment, my inside man refuses to tell."

"Tch!" we all cursed in unison.

“But there’s definitely something fishy going on here. What murder case haven’t I reported on? I’ve never seen that kid keep his mouth shut like that. I’m treating that kid to dinner tonight, I’m going to get him drunk and get some information out of him.” Yang Hua laughed again, “Anyway, we can’t dig out all the inside information at once. We have to write the articles one by one, and we can make money little by little.”

Needless to say, the Southern Metropolis Daily must have paid this special correspondent a very high fee for the article.

I shook my head: "I'm practically a city legend."

"City Legend, what a great name. I'll use that as the title for my commentary today. It's a pity that these experts acted so recklessly. Even though they targeted the underworld, the police can't just sit idly by. The media from other provinces are buzzing about it now, and the municipal bureau has ordered them to solve the case within a specified time."

After a few sighs, the group saw Blue Head approaching from afar and scattered like birds and beasts.

Before packing up to go home that evening, I saw Yang Hua also leaving the newspaper office after finishing his work, so I went up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

"Are you sure you can hold your liquor? Don't get him drunk."

Yang Hua raised his head: "I could take down ten guys like you."

"How can I compare? But everyone in the public security system is a capable person."

"Wait for the story tomorrow." Yang Hua pulled out a small bottle of hangover medicine and waved it at me, showing that he had already made ample preparations.

By the flowerbed near the main entrance downstairs, two old men in t-shirts were playing chess, one of them practically burying his head in the wooden chessboard. Across from them was my neighbor, Mr. Qu, who lived on the same floor. He was holding a folding fan, humming Peking Opera tunes, and rhythmically tapping the fan tip, clearly having the upper hand.

As I passed by, I nodded to him and said hello.

"Have you decided on the food truck yet?" Old Master Qu was exceptionally competitive, and he deliberately said this in front of me, then looked up and smiled, "That's a lot."

"Wait, wait, what's the rush?" The old man opposite him spoke in a muffled voice.

"Oh, do you have any tenants living with you?"

I was startled. Had Six Ears been exposed?

"No."

"Or maybe I'm seeing things because of my presbyopia. I think I saw someone open the door and go into your room the day before yesterday, but you weren't back then, were you?"

"Uh... really? Male or female?"

"It's a guy, with short hair."

I felt a little relieved and asked again, "What are you wearing? Short sleeves?"

"Anyone not wearing short sleeves in this weather? Don't you know?" At this moment, the old man opposite made a move. Grandpa Qu's red cannon moved, and with a crisp "thud," the white rook was captured and thrown into the chess box.

"I don't think so. I guess you've misjudged me. You can go now, I'll go up first."

"Good, good." The old man didn't pay much attention, reveling in the immense joy of having eaten a whole carload.

"Have any of your friends come over these past couple of days?" I asked Liu Er casually.

"No." Liu Er's voice came from behind the newspaper.

Lately, he's been acting more and more like a normal person, watching TV, reading newspapers, and surfing the internet, but for some reason, the strange feeling I have hasn't lessened. The hair on his body seems to have stopped growing longer, but it's getting thicker every day.

"real?"

Liu Er slowly turned a page of the newspaper.

“Of course. I only have one friend now,” he said casually.

"It seems like the hair on your body isn't growing anymore. Do you want to shave it off and see?"

Liu Er folded the newspaper in half and placed it on the table.

"No, I know it will grow back after I shave it short."

"Hmm..." I decided to tell him about it anyway: "The test results for the water in the pool at Nantianmen are in, and there's no problem."

"oh?"

There was some surprise in Liu Er's tone, but not much urgency or anxiety, which puzzled me. He had calmed down these past few days, at least on the surface, but I was sure there were turbulent undercurrents beneath.

"Based on the genetic testing done on your hair, your genes differ from those of a normal human by 2.4%."

"What does this ratio indicate? Is there a big difference?" The tone remained indifferent.

"The difference between ordinary humans is no more than...0.3%." I thought for a moment and then said a slightly larger number: "So a difference of 2.4% is extremely large."

"Really? Then what was their conclusion?"

"Your problem is serious, and they hope you can cooperate with the treatment."

Liu Er fell silent.

"Don't you want to get rid of this fur?" I asked, getting a little impatient.

Liu Er muttered something under his breath, but I didn't hear it clearly. I asked him, "What did you say?"

Liu Er shook his head, got up and went into the study, and sat down in front of the computer.

I was a little annoyed, so I followed him in and stood behind him, saying, "Do you want treatment or not?!"

After he finished speaking, I was stunned. Because I saw him search for the term "human genetic differences" on Google.

He saw it without having to open any webpage.

“I knew I wasn’t mistaken.” His voice became strange: “The difference between humans and mice is only 1%.”

Liu Er slowly turned his head: "2.4%, I am no longer human."

I stared blankly as he walked back to his bedroom.

"No one can save me, no one can save me, I know that."