Saving Unpermitted

Chapter 61: Persistence

This land was particularly desolate, and not even a trace of mutated plants could be seen. The Vine Erosion Swamp rampaged through, leaving behind a ground full of dark and rotten mud.

The sky was always covered by thick clouds, making the day as dark as twilight during a heavy rainstorm, and the night was pitch-black, with no visibility. As the day slowly faded, looking from this point to the surroundings, the entire planet seemed to have died, quietly decaying.

Between heaven and earth, there was only one unnatural giant sphere. The Vine Erosion Swamp absorbed all light, constantly wriggling on its surface.

After Shu Jun threw Monday out of the Vine Erosion Swamp, it let out a long, miserable scream and was nailed into the muddy ground outside the Erosion Swamp. The damp soil was flipped over, then melted back into the earth like cream.

Once Shu Jun entered the Erosion Swamp sphere, Zhu Yanchen never relaxed for a moment. When he saw Monday appear, he immediately approached.

“Shu… dan… ger.” Monday struggled to speak; each word paused in between. It had a simple mind but a natural sensitivity to hostility.

Following Shu Jun, it had food and drink and lived quite comfortably. Although it couldn’t move, it passed its days carefree. Once it lost the protection of Shu Jun, a powerful member of its kind, it would return to the environment of survival of the fittest.

Monday absolutely didn’t want to be devoured.

“Hand…” it shouted at Zhu Yanchen, trying its best to express what it saw. “Hand!”

Zhu Yanchen attempted to touch the hilt of his sword. The erosion substance evasively avoided his touch, and he could only manage to barely lift it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t firmly grip the sword.

“Zhu, save! Save… him!” Monday continued with difficulty.

“Mm,” Zhu Yanchen responded softly.

He was well aware of Shu Jun’s abilities. Shu Jun possessed the “Creation” obtained from Sweet Edge and the innate “Suppression”, making conventional physical attacks ineffective. On the other hand, Shu Jun threw his only weapon as a warning rather than trying to solve the situation himself, indicating that Shu Jun must have made a judgment about the circumstances.

Within the Vine Erosion Swamp, there was a high possibility of a trap. An Erosion Swamp wouldn’t possess two different abilities, so it must have hidden another Erosion Swamp—a small Erosion Swamp that carried a wealth of negative information.

Whether it turned Shu Jun into a second Luo Duan or simply made him have a mental breakdown, Sigma would benefit. And once Shu Jun lost control mentally, regardless of whether he could recover or not, Zhu Yanchen, as a human, would become the first sacrifice.

Shu Jun’s intention was probably a warning for Zhu Yanchen to leave quickly and seek support and countermeasures.

Zhu Yanchen revealed a smile.

He lifted Monday and placed it in a safe location, then proceeded to unload all his weapons one by one. Marshal Zhu had many straps entwined around him, and he carefully untied them, hanging them on Monday to prevent the weapons from coming into contact with the erosion-rich soil. The series of actions was swift and decisive.

Finally, Zhu Yanchen tightened his face mask, covering his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

At this moment, he was left with a tidy uniform, a purification gun, and a dagger coated with anti-erosion material.

Zhu Yanchen stood silently before the Erosion Swamp, taking a moment before stepping forward. Immediately, several vines attempted to constrict his body but slid away due to the erosion substance instinctive resistance to his erosion. There were too many obstacles within the Vine Erosion Swamp, preventing the vines from stabbing him with their speed, leaving them momentarily unable to deal with him.

However, despite the resistance of the erosion substance, the vines struggled to move, exerting great force to squeeze him, attempting to push this foreign entity out of its body.

The Erosion Swamp had truly become a veritable Erosion Swamp, making it difficult to make any progress within. Fortunately, the structure of the vines left enough gaps, allowing Zhu Yanchen to adjust his breathing and tighten his grip on the dagger.

He severed the erosion vine that came at him, allowing it to flow over his uniform fabric and coldly brush against his skin.

“Shu Jun!” Zhu Yanchen raised his voice, but inside the Erosion Swamp, the light was dim, and there was only the sound of moist friction.

No answer.

The vines rushed at him frantically, gradually draining his strength. Zhu Yanchen mechanically raised his hand, relentlessly severing the vines without stopping for a moment. He became a human wedge, forcefully pushing himself deeper.

His boots were torn off, and his feet stepped on the wriggling erosion. Seeing that piercing wasn’t effective, the vines formed into fist-sized lumps and began to strike him with inertia. Zhu Yanchen calculated the distance and moved forward step by step.

To fully restrain Shu Jun, at least during this period of time, the Erosion Swamp’s brain wouldn’t act recklessly.

He wanted to take that person back.

Another wave of intense pain struck as one of his ribs was shattered. Marshal Zhu coughed up blood, and his actions became more ferocious. His muscles gradually grew weak, a piercing pain like a stab to the heart radiated from his chest, and his feet had lost sensation.

Unfortunately, he was accustomed to this level of pain long ago.

This human wedge slowly penetrated deeper, its speed showing no signs of slowing down. In front of him could be his unconscious comrade or a maddened reaper. Zhu Yanchen was well aware that he was making an extremely risky decision.

If he bet correctly, he would find a way to bring Shu Jun back home. If he bet wrongly, the world would ultimately perish, and he would be among the first casualties.

Time passed, and Zhu Yanchen began to feel that the dagger was too slow. His other hand also reached out. The vines pierced through his gloves, injuring his fingers, and the blood stained the white gloves a dark red.

Finally, he grasped a human hand. The slippery blood on his hand almost caused him to lose his grip.

That hand was as cold as the Erosion Swamp’s vines, tainted with grayish-white brain of erosion substance.

“Shu Jun.” He coughed out a bit of blood, but his voice was as calm as ever.

That hand remained motionless. Zhu Yanchen reversed his grip and held the wrist of that hand, confirming the faint pulse. Then, using his weakened arm, he wielded the dagger, attempting to forcefully dig him out.

Throughout the entire process, Zhu Yanchen tightly held onto that cold hand, pressing it against his chest.

He had no reason to release him again.

As if sensing the warmth of a human, that hand moved slightly. The next second, all the Erosion Swamp’s vines around them ceased their movements. Zhu Yanchen’s actions stalled for a half-second due to this anomaly, but in the next moment, he continued to hack away, exposing Shu Jun’s bare arms.

“We’re going back.” Zhu Yanchen wiped the blood from his mouth and grabbed hold of the arm covered in erosion substance.

Judging from the structure of the erosion vines, he should be able to pull Shu Jun out. However, Shu Jun seemed to have fused with the erosion vines. Zhu Yanchen pulled with determination, but Shu Jun’s body remained motionless. Fearful of injuring Shu Jun, Zhu Yanchen extended his hand once again to deal with the seemingly endless vines.

The pain and coldness became distant, and his eyes were fixed on the sole target.

How many hours had he been inside? There was no trace of light left in the crevices of the vines. The dense erosion substance pressed against him from all sides, as if he were underwater. The erosion-resistant coating on the dagger had worn off, leaving the blade pitted and requiring twice the effort to cut through the black vines. Shu Jun’s hand seemed slightly warmer, and it took Zhu Yanchen a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t due to Shu Jun’s body temperature recovering, but rather his own body temperature gradually dropping.

He imagined the warmth of the sun, the fireplace in the room, and the rising steam from the teapot. He imagined Shu Jun’s face, which had been close to his not long ago, and the breath that had been the most intimate thing he had ever touched.

If he let go and Shu Jun didn’t wake up in time… Shu Jun would be taken away. The hope of others would be taken away, and his own hope would also vanish.

Zhu Yanchen didn’t want to experience such a separation a second time.

Finally, the erosion substance around them began to move again, but this time, the movement was extremely unnatural—the erosion vines were collapsing.

Zhu Yanchen once again tugged at the arm. This time, he had no intention of pulling Shu Jun towards him but instead dragged himself closer. In the midst of the collapsing erosion substance, he hooked his arm around Shu Jun’s waist, pressing him against his chest. Then, he drew his gun and wildly fired above their heads, purifying the erosion substance to prevent them from being crushed by large pieces of it.

Within the crumbling darkness, Shu Jun appeared like an ice sculpture.

The erosion vines intertwined and were surprisingly soft, allowing them to have a soft landing. The residual light illuminated the surroundings, allowing Zhu Yanchen to finally see the appearance of the person in his arms.

Behind Shu Jun, there were segments of pitch-black bones that looked like insect limbs or skeletal remains of rotting wings. They softly lay on the ground, shuttling among the collapsing vines, emitting a chilling sucking sound.

The skin on Shu Jun’s back had also been dyed pitch-black, and his limbs had transformed into a texture similar to erosion substance. Zhu Yanchen embraced him tightly, feeling more erosion substance slide down from his chest, mixing with his blood and flowing into the Erosion Swamp beneath them.

No, it wasn’t just Shu Jun’s back—Shu Jun’s entire body had turned into pure darkness. From his hair to his limbs, the pitch-black erosion consumed all light. Zhu Yanchen held a silhouette in his arms.

The silhouette began to deform. Limbs and torso gradually merged, turning into a terrifying creature that should only exist in nightmares. It gently wriggled, more like a pre-hatching control exercise than struggling.

Zhu Yanchen didn’t know how Shu Jun had won, and he didn’t even know if the thing in his arms could still be called “Shu Jun”. Embracing this strange entity, an unprecedented fear gripped him, and his primal instincts screamed at him to run.

He didn’t shed tears, tremble, or call out the other person’s name in panic. Zhu Yanchen sat quietly for a few minutes, holding the entity even tighter.

“…Even if it’s a wish from sixteen years ago,” he said. “Birthday wishes should never be spoken aloud.”

The next moment, the creature in his arms violently struggled. Zhu Yanchen didn’t have time to react before it transformed into a liquid and flowed out of his body.

His arms were empty, and only a pure Erosion Swamp remained beneath his knees… or rather, a newly formed Erosion Swamp that hadn’t yet awakened.

The detection device that was originally on Shu Jun’s wrist fell onto Zhu Yanchen’s leg. Soaked in erosion for too long, it had stopped functioning half an hour ago. The characters on it flickered and could disappear at any moment.

[Fusion level: 100%; No signs of life.]

A bit of erosion substance remained in Zhu Yanchen’s palm. He stared at it in a daze and then tightened his grip, trying to keep it. But it crawled along his palm lines and eventually fell into the darkness.

Something cold coiled around him, and Zhu Yanchen lowered his gaze to see black withered hands—one after another, like miniature versions of Sigma, winding around his waist and legs, seemingly targeting his chest and throat.

Boundless exhaustion overwhelmed him.

Another type of pain erupted from deep within his body and then turned into numbness. He knelt in place, like a dead tree.

Zhu Yanchen closed his eyes.

Several hours ago.

Shu Jun was in such agony that he fell unconscious. Memories from the depths of his mind were excavated, and memories from unknown sources were forcefully inserted. Each fragment was soaked in blood and filled with profound despair.

He saw the faces of his fallen comrades, with countless details presented before his eyes. From their usual laughter to the moments of their ignorant deaths. The immense pain and despair poured down, accompanied by even more terrifying external information—they gathered the despair of countless deceased, intertwining the perspectives of the living and the dead into a noose that tightened around his soul.

Billions of undead whispered in his ears, and memories filled with hatred stirred into a vortex. Shu Jun could barely think; his consciousness was like a piece of broken wood in a storm, on the verge of sinking into the depths of the sea.

Compared to that overwhelming despair, his hopes were as fragile as paper.

Could the situation really be salvaged? Even if A’Yan hadn’t betrayed him, could they really find a way to prolong the lifespan of synthetic humans? And if they did, with the current scarce resources, would humanity truly support them regardless of the cost?

This was Luo Duan’s plan, and Shu Jun understood what Luo Duan wanted to convey—

He had ignored these cries, resentments, and anger, leaving behind the balance between humans and synths to pursue an almost impossible miracle. Rather than giving their compatriots unrealistic hope, it was better to embrace a death wish from the beginning and seek the cruelest revenge.

He was the luckiest among the synths, but now his heart was scorched by overwhelming anger and despair.

So what if the world was destroyed? So what if humanity perished? The synths were already doomed, and humans weren’t even considered the same kind. They were no different from the Erosion Swamp… or perhaps even crueler than it.

Nerves were sawed back and forth by hatred, and Shu Jun was on the verge of screaming in agony. The murky emotions transformed into monsters, forcefully dragging and tearing his will elsewhere, almost shattering his consciousness into pieces. Shu Jun gasped in pain, and in his hazy awareness, he heard a piercing alarm coming from his wrist.

…Right, A’Yan had told him. Once the fusion level exceeded 95%, he had to escape.

But he couldn’t move.

The surroundings were as cold as an ice cave, and his brain felt like an inflated balloon about to burst from the venom. He needed a release, anything would do.

Just to make this pain stop.

Shu Jun gritted his teeth, completely losing control of his limbs. The killing intent and madness had also broken free from their restraints. He could feel something emerging from within him, following its instincts and indiscriminately destroying everything.

Those black appendages crushed the small Erosion Swamp in their grip, easily demolishing the Vine Erosion Swamp’s brain. The movements of the strange appendages were fierce, and Shu Jun could feel them—so brutal and destructive that this massacre surpassed even his own direct involvement.

His body was spiraling out of control, and his mind was gradually becoming blurred.

Until he felt a touch of warmth.

Shu Jun couldn’t see anything anymore; he could only sense the sensation of tearing through enemies and the accompanying oppression and pain. But in this ice cave, a small trace of warmth emerged abruptly, causing him to involuntarily pause his actions.

Who is it?

His mind was filled with the screams of the deceased, his hands were full of broken limbs, yet his throbbing brain managed to spit out this question.

“We’re going back,” the person said.

Where was he going back to? His hometown was fake, and so was his family.

But the person’s voice brought a sense of calmness, like an iced potion. Time seemed frozen, and the jumbled memories came to a halt, momentarily distancing themselves from madness. Something new appeared in his mind, not forcefully inserted or forcibly excavated.

It was like seeing a small flower in an endless storm. He stubbornly endured until he reached it, protecting it carefully.

…It reminded him of something from the past.

Sixteen years ago, after the Reunion Festival.

“You had a birthday before the festival, but my extra allowance didn’t come through at that time,” Shu Jun said mysteriously, holding a blindfold in his hands with great solemnity. “Today, it finally came through! I picked out something good for you.”

Smoke examined the blindfold for a moment and then accepted it solemnly. “Thank you. I really like it.”

“…What are you thinking?!” Shu Jun quickly snatched the blindfold back. “Birthday presents should have a bow!”

Smoke smiled a bit reluctantly as he allowed Shu Jun to put the blindfold on him and spin him around a few times.

“This—” Shu Jun pulled Smoke to the balcony and eagerly took off the blindfold. “Look!”

In front of the two children was a giant gift box, with an exaggerated red ribbon tied on top, although the bow was poorly tied and crooked, making it look quite ugly.

“You wrapped it,” Smoke said seriously, “so why did you blindfold me?”

“…You talk too much,” Shu Jun grumbled unhappily. “Quick, open it, open it!”

After the Reunion Festival, it was the first time Shu Jun saw Smoke smile—he chuckled and shook his head, then began to unwrap the large box in front of him.

Inside the box were two small pots of bellflowers, in full bloom. The flowerpots were exquisite and beautiful, and their value was evident at first glance.

“I asked the flower shop owner, and these are the most beautiful ones. They’re different from the ordinary ones; they have a beautiful glow at night.” Shu Jun proudly tilted his head back. “As long as you take care of them, they’ll keep living and blooming every year. Last time, I saw that you really liked this, but since you’re so special, I couldn’t buy you the usual ones… A’Yan?!”

Smoke set down the flowers and hugged them silently. He held them for a long time, and when he released his arms, his eyes were slightly red.

“You’re that moved?” Shu Jun scratched his head in embarrassment. “Um, actually, I planned for us to each have a pot. We can take care of them together and share our experiences of cultivating flowers and such—”

“I can’t keep flowers at home.” Smoke rubbed his eyes and deliberately spoke in a lighter tone. “Can you take care of them for me, for now?”

“Huh? I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Then, let’s forget about it, and I’ll get you some other gifts…”

“No, just this one. I really like it.” Smoke sniffled. “When I… When I grow up and have my own home, I will definitely take them with me. But until then, can you take care of them for me? Is that okay?”

Did this mean they were going to be long-lasting friends? He was truly a genius at choosing gifts. Shu Jun’s mood instantly softened. “Okay, okay, no problem!”

After the Reunion Festival, Shu Jun could sense a change in Smoke. His “big brother” demeanor, which didn’t quite match his actual age, had become much more stable. He no longer had the nervousness and apprehension of the past; he was like a sharpened sword. In return, Smoke became stricter with Shu Jun’s tactical training—there were a few instances where he genuinely lost his temper, nearly scaring Shu Jun out of his wits.

They still laughed and ran around in this small apartment, but Shu Jun could vaguely feel that something had forever changed.

“A’Yan.” One night, Shu Jun tightly clutched his blanket and nervously swallowed his saliva. “Is there something on your mind?”

“… ” Smoke lay with his back turned to Shu Jun, remaining silent.

“You’re in a bad mood,” Shu Jun continued cautiously. “If you have any troubles…”

“My mom can’t hold on much longer.” After a long silence, Smoke spoke softly.

“What?!” Shu Jun jumped up from the bed in shock. “Then go and accompany her right away!”

“I’ve thought about it, but her room has a specialized treatment device, and I can’t go in… I can only make sure to be with her during her non-treatment time, but…”

Shu Jun quietly climbed back onto the bed, contemplating for a moment before hugging Smoke from behind.

“I know she’s very sick, and I’ve been mentally prepared for several years.” Smoke didn’t resist. “But right now… I still… can’t fully accept it.”

“A’ Yan…”

“She can be strange sometimes, but she’s a good mother, I know that. We had planned to go out together at the end of this year. She said she wanted to see me reach the age of sixteen.”

Shu Jun didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have parents, so he couldn’t fully understand Smoke’s pain. All he could do was hold him tightly, hoping to alleviate those tremors.

“I don’t know how to console you, but… but if you’re really upset, I can make more time in the future to be with you…” He stammered, trying to comfort him. “A’Yan, I’m willing to be your friend forever.”

For some reason, Smoke trembled even more intensely. Whether Shu Jun let go or held on, the whole person became as rigid as a statue.

“You don’t understand,” Smoke said after regaining composure, his voice quivering with tears.

“I…” Shu Jun racked his brain, trying to figure out if he had said anything disrespectful. Before he could figure it out, Smoke turned over and hugged him with all his strength—as if a drowning person clinging to their last floating object.

“Go to sleep,” Smoke said hoarsely.

“But you…”

“Go to sleep,” Smoke repeated.

Afterward, Shu Jun remained nervous for a whole week. However, Smoke proved to be much stronger than he had imagined. He didn’t sink into depression, nor did he absentmindedly deal with Shu Jun. From his actions, it seemed that he cherished the time they spent together even more.

Smoke didn’t shy away from discussing his mother’s condition. He would sadly share the details with Shu Jun, who patiently listened, always ready to provide a shoulder, an arm, or a hug. In turn, Shu Jun began to open up completely—sharing the joys and sorrows of his daily life, always the first to share with Smoke.

Although Shu Jun had a vague feeling that Smoke was keeping something from him, it didn’t matter. He believed that Smoke would never harm him.

The two of them no longer clashed and cherished the time they spent together each day. Time flowed slowly, and Shu Jun gradually realized something terrifying—

He had become accustomed to living with Smoke, and he didn’t know if he could accept it if Smoke were to leave.

Shu Jun carefully tended to the two potted flowers, placing them in the most conspicuous spot, silently making a wish. Even if they couldn’t be lifelong friends, he hoped to accompany each other until adulthood.

…But the bellflowers were ultimately not magical, and his wish didn’t come true.

In the end, they were separated, and it wasn’t the calm parting that Shu Jun had envisioned. He had imagined many possible scenarios for their separation, but the outcome was always the same—Smoke would deliver the news, they would cry their hearts out, exchange contact information, and then maintain online communication.

Reality turned out to be much crueler.