Fateful Night

The bar door was suddenly kicked open, and a squad of armed guards filed in, swiftly fanning out to either side. The gleaming barrels of their guns separated the two groups inside the bar. Then a man in formal attire, sallow-faced with a meticulously groomed Van Dyke beard and white gloves, entered with his hands clasped behind his back. He surveyed the scene and asked in a stern voice, "What's going on here?"

"Mr. Smith, it's quite clear that the fatso Lucen is causing trouble," Lucinda batted her eyelashes, then whispered to Asher, "That's Smith, the building's security chief. A man with a severe case of germophobia. Someone like Lucen, fat and stupid, is just the type he despises."

Asher muttered "Oh," and watched as things unfolded.

Smith glanced at both of them, first addressing the golden-haired girl, "Miss Lucinda, we seem to be meeting rather frequently these days."

Then his gaze settled on Asher and he nodded, "Mr. Asher, you may leave. I'll handle this."

Asher was surprised; they believed Lucinda's word without question. Lucinda tugged at his sleeve, and they quickly left the bar. Behind them, Lucen's pig-like screams filled the air as Smith's eyes narrowed into crescent moons, brimming with mirth.

"They trust you a lot," Asher noted.

Lucinda laughed heartily, slapping Asher on the back, "Don't be naive, every corner of this building is under surveillance. Did you think they wouldn't know Lucen's tricks?"

"Then why..." Asher furrowed his brow, suspecting that Smith and his men intentionally allowed such incidents to occur.

"You're too innocent. Smith and his people are well aware of everything that happens in this building. They don't care about the competition or even the friction between contestants, as long as it doesn't result in death. On the contrary, they record our performances as some sort of reference."

Asher then remembered seeing several people recording something with their smart brains when he finished his reflex training.

"Hey, forget about that fat pig." Lucinda bumped him and said, "You owe me a favor. How about reconsidering becoming my subordinate?"

Asher, still a child at heart, feigned strength, "Even if you hadn't shown up, I could have handled that guy. As for being a subordinate..."

Seeing his half-smiling face, Lucinda's expression fell, "Not that answer again."

"I've said it before, I don't like being anyone's subordinate. But we can be friends... I'm Asher."

Seeing Asher extend his hand, Lucinda sighed, "Alright, friends then."

"Lucinda!" The girl grasped Asher's hand, sharing her name. Her gaze fell on Asher's injured arm, and she unwound the ribbon that had been tying her ponytail. As her golden hair cascaded down, it flowed like a golden wave, and for a moment, she seemed to shine as brightly as the rising sun, her radiance unmatched.

For a moment, Asher was transfixed.

Only when the ribbon wrapped around his arm, tied into a cute bow, did he snap back to reality. Lucinda waved, "I'm off, remember to wash it and give it back to me. Friend."

"Where can I find you?"

"Here, or on the 17th floor." Leaving Asher with a sunny smile, Lucinda walked away.

That ray of sunshine pierced straight to his heart, as if the cold darkness within was scattered by her light.

In the bar, Lucen and the other youths were taken away. Kude, who was more severely injured, was taken directly for treatment. Smith stood in a corner of the bar, looking at a few drops of bright red blood on the floor. He crouched down, a test tube sliding out from his sleeve. He wiped the floor with a handkerchief, soaking it with blood, then stuffed the stained cloth into the test tube.

With a flick of his wrist, the test tube disappeared back into his sleeve, and the security chief stood up as if nothing had happened, quietly leaving the scene.

Back in his office, Smith summoned a confidant. He placed the test tube on the table, "Take this to Mr. Heisin, the butler of the Bescod family. Tell him it's what he needs."

The confidant nodded, pocketing the test tube and leaving quietly.

That night, the confidant entered a quiet hotel and rented a room, then placed the test tube in the room's private safe. After completing the task, he left immediately. Ten minutes later, the room was opened by a man in a felt hat and a black overcoat. He seemed to know the safe's combination by heart, quickly opened it, and took the test tube into a briefcase.

Carrying the case, he approached the hotel manager at the lobby, "Immediately use the sample inside for a genetic comparison. The subject is Lord Horace."

"Understood, sir," the manager nodded.

The night was deep, and from the floating island, the moon hanging in the sky seemed much larger than usual. On Babylon, one could even see the majestic mountain ranges on the moon. Moonlight cast upon the island was scattered by various colors of light. The city of Babylon was bright and lively, filled with laughter and song, a stark contrast to the desolate and lonely surface.

As the man in black left the quiet street near the hotel, he bumped into two drunken men. He carefully stepped aside as they offered him a bottle, "Care for a drink, sir?"

"No, thank you," the man in black turned and left, the drunken men's raucous laughter fading behind him. He quickly blended into the bustling street. In the distance, the rousing "Song of the Great Era" echoed from a tavern, with many joining in chorus, but no one knew that on this seemingly ordinary night, amidst the song of destiny, a subtle and mournful melody had been quietly interwoven.

As Smith received a secret transfer of a long string of digits into his account, Asher opened one of the books Hudson had given him in his bedroom. "Biographies of Great Generals" had yellowed pages and signs of wear, indicating Hudson's frequent use.

The book, which chronicled the great battles of notable generals since the establishment of the Earth Federation, was a testament to the history that shaped human life today. Most of the battles described took place in distant territories, not on Earth, led by generals who were either cunning or valiant, with many possessing both qualities.

Regardless of their type, the generals' campaigns could be summarized in four words: "All's fair in war."

As one general put it: "A smart general will use every means to attack from the enemy's rear or flank. Only two types of people insist on a frontal battle: those sitting on absolute advantage, seeking another medal on their chest, and the ignorant fools. The former, with clear advantage, feign generosity. The latter are simply too foolish to realize they have been crushed under the wheels of time!"

It was undeniable that the book's accounts of certain battles were chilling in their cunning. Hudson's annotations were even more ruthless, pointing out the lowest depths of deceit. The book's conclusion quoted a famous general of the Federation, Ossarite.

Perhaps our actions will earn us infamy in history. But to those who curse us, don't forget—if not for what we've done, you might not even have the chance to curse. War has never been about justice!

As Asher pondered these words, his young heart was shaken once again.

Closing the book, Totonis arrived. Asher came to the hall to see the lieutenant directing several soldiers as they brought in boxes of goods. Approaching, Asher asked, "What's all this?"

"Ah, these are some fine items," Totonis said cheerfully, breaking the seal on one of the boxes and opening it to reveal two rows of neatly arranged fruit. The apples, still dewy as if freshly picked, were a vibrant red.

Asher's eyes brightened, "Are these... apples?"

On the surface, where the environment was slowly recovering, it would still be some time before fruits and vegetables could be grown. Asher had tasted an apple once, a smuggled good that Loretta had bought from a black market dealer. He remembered the fruit, lacking moisture but still carrying a hint of tart sweetness—a taste he savored for years.

Seeing so many now, Asher was overwhelmed. Upon closer inspection, these fruits seemed slightly different from apples, with thinner skins that almost revealed the juicy flesh within.

"This isn't an apple," Totonis said, handing one to Asher, "Try it, they're absolutely delicious."

Asher bit into it, and as the skin and flesh melted in his mouth, they turned into a clear, sweet juice that flowed down his throat. Suddenly, he felt his Source Energy stir as if resonating with the strange fruit.

"Hmph, fireberry fruit. Totonis, when did you become so generous?" Hudson slurred from the table.

Totonis's eyes, highlighted by flamboyant eyeshadow, sparkled as he replied, "Because these are rewards for my darling Asher!"