Canary Is Actually The Future World-Destroying Boss Chapter 10

Chapter 10

You… you must know the way back, right? Ji Gui calmed himself, though he was drenched in a cold sweat. His hands unconsciously rubbed his own arms.

In just a few seconds, it was understandable if a person vanished, but how could the hospital behind him disappear into thin air? The hospital was sixteen stories tall; even from a distance, its silhouette should have been visible.

How could it be that he saw nothing at all?

Shang lowered his head, appearing to be deep in thought. Ten seconds later, he clapped his hands. Even with the mist blocking his view, Ji Gui could imagine his brilliant smile. I forgot. My bad.

So fake…

Ji Gui was ninety-nine percent certain this guy was responsible, yet here he was, acting innocent with such a perfunctory display. He stared at Shang in silence for a few seconds before finally choosing to speak. Was it you?

Hmm… Shang cupped his chin, pondering for a moment before scratching his head. Fine, it was me. I saw you staring outside for so long that I thought you wanted to go out, so I figured I’d give you a little push.

…

Ji Gui remained silent and turned to walk back.

He had intended to chase after Shang to ask a question and then return. He hadn’t expected to be played like this, but there was no way he would go along with Shang’s whims!

He feared unfamiliar environments and lacked the courage to truly break free from his shackles. To him, freedom only meant the freedom to starve, to freeze, and eventually to die.

So even if the gates were wide open, tempting him to rush out at every moment, he could only stop and watch.

… Shang followed beside him, asking after a moment, Do you really want to go back? How strange. Do you have masochistic tendencies? Or have you developed feelings for Yuan Hui after sleeping with him for a few months?

He was friendly one moment and biting the next; Ji Gui could never guess what he was actually trying to do. But one thing Ji Gui knew clearly was this: You must know that I cannot survive on my own. If I choose to run, there is a high probability I will freeze or starve to death. If I go back, at least I will be fed and clothed. You couldn’t possibly not know that.

Haha. Shang suddenly let out two loud laughs, rolling around in the air beside him, looking extremely happy. If his features were clear, he would surely be looking at Ji Gui with a beaming smile. It’s so strange to hear a kid say something like that. Whatever, I don’t care. Walk back slowly by yourself then.

With that, he vanished on the spot.

Shang…! Ji Gui froze, standing in place and looking around blankly with a complicated heart. He was alone again.

After Shang disappeared, Ji Gui’s mood plummeted. He walked slowly for a long time but couldn’t find the way back to the hospital. He watched as the sun dipped low, its dying light spilling over the rows of buildings lining the street.

Pedestrians became more numerous, and Ji Gui was forced to slow his pace, like a small fish caught in a surging tide, swept along by the crowd.

Ji Gui’s feelings toward Shang were complicated. Shang gave him a strange sensation, one that was occasionally inexplicably familiar. To be honest, without Shang, Ji Gui might not have survived that period in the basement.

To Yuan Hui, that time was but a blink of an eye, unworthy of attention. That period, which could be summarized in just a few words, seemed to leave no trace, yet it had left an indelible shadow on Ji Gui.

The cramped room, the damp air, the cockroaches crawling onto the bed at night, the omnipresent hunger, and the most silent darkness.

If Shang hadn’t talked to him, chatting idly about anything and everything, he probably wouldn’t have made it this far.

Maybe Shang just wanted him to be free. Had his own attitude been too sharp? He shouldn’t have questioned Shang directly; perhaps pretending not to know would have been better.

After all, Shang meant well. He just wanted him to gain his freedom.

What if Shang disappeared forever?

Thinking of this, Ji Gui almost burst into tears. Walking alone on an unfamiliar street, with the person he was most familiar with gone, and night about to fall.

Had he done something wrong?

His eyes felt sore. Suddenly, his nose felt a chill, and a white object drifted before his eyes. Ji Gui looked up to find ice and snow fluttering down from the sky, instantly filling the entire horizon.

Amidst the vast white snow, he found a place to crouch down. Burying his head in his knees, his tears surged out like a broken dam.

Where exactly did it go wrong? It’s so strange…

He wondered what would happen to him next. Wandering through the cold night until the blizzard arrived. His body heat would be swept away by the wind and snow until he collapsed on the ground and never woke up.

And then?

And then… there would be no then. The body would be cleared away, and people would keep coming and going just like today.

It hurt so much. When was the last time he felt this way?

Oh, not too long ago.

Yuan Hui liked to toy with him. He probably only kept him alive to continue the sport. Yet he was still stubbornly trying to walk back like a fool. It was understandable that Shang was angry.

Maybe Shang was right. How would he know he couldn’t survive if he didn’t try?

Little boy… A familiar voice suddenly came from above his head.

Ji Gui looked up blankly, tear tracks still on his face.

The person standing there was the Omega Ji Gui had seen at the hospital last time. This Omega was heavily pregnant and looking at Ji Gui, holding the hand of the child from that day.

The child stared at Ji Gui curiously, eyes blinking with life.

Why are you here all alone? Are you lost? the Omega asked softly.

Ji Gui immediately wiped his tears and stood up. Yes, I can’t find the way back to the hospital.

Do your parents work at the hospital?

Ji Gui shook his head. No, I’m sick and staying at the hospital, but I can’t find my way back after coming out.

The Omega’s gaze turned sympathetic. Which hospital? If it’s Shengjiang First Hospital, I can take you back; it’s on my way. If not, I’ll help you call the police.

Call the police… Ji Gui already knew this was another unfamiliar term. He could choose to stay silent, or he could ask.

As long as he asked for the meaning of the word and then induced the Omega to ask questions, he could take the opportunity to tell his story and gain the Omega’s sympathy.

Maybe this Omega would even help him.

Maybe…

It was only a maybe…

But Ji Gui felt he had to try, so he asked with a look of innocence, What does ‘call the police’ mean?

Sure enough, the Omega looked incredulous, her gaze toward Ji Gui carrying deep curiosity and a hint of pity. It means if you are hurt by someone or treated unfairly, you can call the police. You just dial 110 on a phone, and someone will come to help you.

Ji Gui froze, not expecting that meaning. But a moment later, he lowered his head again to hide his expression. It’s my first time hearing that…

This time, the child beside her suddenly piped up in a crisp voice, You don’t even know that? Didn’t your kindergarten teacher teach you?

The Omega pulled the child back and then asked Ji Gui, By the way, your health wasn’t very good when you were hospitalized. Can you hold up right now?

Ji Gui didn’t understand why the topic suddenly shifted to his health. He replied, I’m fine, I’ve mostly recovered.

I see. Then let me take you back to the hospital. My husband happens to work there; maybe you’ve even seen her. The Omega suddenly brought this up.

Ji Gui didn’t respond to the Omega’s words. Instead, he suddenly crouched down with a face full of terror, trembling all over. He looked as pitiful as a kitten that had fallen into water. He cried out, No, no… I don’t want to go back to the hospital! Don’t take me back, please…

But in the next second, he immediately stopped his tears and stood up with a blank expression. He said to the Omega with abnormal calmness, I’m sorry. Just now… anyway, I’m sorry.

After speaking, he bowed deeply.

The Omega was dumbfounded, witnessing for the first time someone whose face changed faster than flipping the pages of a book. The child nearby frowned and took a few steps back. Mama, is he sick in the head?

Sorry… could you please call the police? I don’t want to trouble you anymore, Ji Gui said.

The Omega remained silent, but soon rejected him. No, I’ll take you back to the hospital. Don’t worry.

As she spoke, the Omega reached out to take Ji Gui’s hand. Ji Gui froze, feeling the script was wrong. Shouldn’t the Omega ask why he was so afraid? Then he could tell her about Yuan Hui and seek help.

Seeing the Omega’s appearance, she seemed to be avoiding his attitude, deliberately pretending not to see.

Ji Gui guessed the Omega knew about him or had already guessed his identity. Jiang Nailing must have told the Omega. After all, they were a close couple.

It seemed the Omega definitely wanted to send him back, otherwise she would offend the Yuan family.

Having resolved to escape, Ji Gui immediately decided to turn and leave, but it was too late—the Omega had already grabbed his wrist.

Ji Gui forced himself to stay calm, trying to break free. There’s no need to trouble you, I…

Before he could finish, the Omega interrupted him. It’s fine, I’m going that way anyway. Don’t worry, I’ll definitely get you back safely. As she spoke, the strength in her hand increased.

Mama, why do we have to take him back? the child asked with the bluntness of youth, openly displaying his rejection of Ji Gui.

Ji Gui was now completely certain the Omega knew his identity. He had been naive to think he was lucky enough to meet a kind person who would help him without reservation.

I say… can’t you just walk properly on your own? The familiar voice appeared again.

Turning his head, he saw Shang’s blurred face appear beside him, the corners of his mouth curled up. His well-defined finger lightly tapped the Omega’s wrist. The Omega gave a startled cry and pulled her hand back as if burned.

Ji Gui seized the opportunity, turned, and ran. Using his small, thin frame, he wove through the crowd and vanished from sight in moments.

He didn’t stop until he ran into an alley, panting for breath. Shang floated beside him, watching him, and then spoke. You would have been better off ignoring that Omega. Did you really think they’d rush to save you just because you said something? I’m telling you, not only would they not help you, they’d wash you clean, tie you up, and hand you back to Yuan Hui. Even someone like Jiang Nailing couldn’t save you.

Ji Gui collapsed directly onto the ground, his face flushed red from the biting wind. He clenched his fists and shouted at Shang, Stop talking! You’re so annoying… Why am I always like this? Is it really my fault?

I tried so hard to please Yuan Hui. Wasn’t I obedient? But he still doesn’t like me. There was nothing between me and Gui, but he just had to torment me. You too, deliberately scaring me, abandoning me… What did I do wrong?!

Ji Gui’s breathing was rapid, his emotions on the verge of collapse. As he spoke, he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. All the grievances and pain exploded in this moment.

He lowered his hands and suddenly hugged his own arms, pinching them hard. His nails sank deep, and streaks of blood soon began to flow.

Shang’s face remained blurred. He looked at Ji Gui, his thoughts unknown to anyone.

After a long while, just as Ji Gui’s whimpering began to subside into suppressed gasps, Shang finally spoke.

Hey. His voice held an indescribable complexity. Stop pinching. If you keep going, those arms are going to look really ugly.

The words still didn’t sound gentle, yet they strangely made Ji Gui’s hands stop. He lifted his head to look at Shang.

Of course I know you’re hurting. Shang’s figure flickered, as if he were organizing his words. Being toyed with like an object, unable to please your master, and even I, the only one you can talk to, pull disappearing acts from time to time… anyone would go crazy.

He acknowledged Ji Gui’s feelings, which carried more power than any empty words.

You aren’t wrong. You can’t be wrong. Even if there is a mistake, don’t doubt yourself, Shang said word by word.

I want to go home… Ji Gui’s voice was muffled.

He wasn’t referring to the Yuan residence. Currently, he had nowhere to go; the only place he could think of was his former, impoverished home.

He also wanted to go back and see his mother, wondering if she was doing well.

It’s far. You wouldn’t get there even if you walked for days and nights, Shang said mercilessly.

Ji Gui wiped his tears, stood up, and began walking in an unknown direction.

You saw him on the street? Over here, Jiang Nailing had received a call from her Omega. She had thought it was just a routine greeting, but she hadn’t expected the Omega’s first sentence to be asking if the Ji Gui she mentioned was still in the hospital.

So she asked that question.

Most likely. I wanted to bring him back, but he suddenly ran off. I couldn’t catch him with this belly. After saying this, the Omega briefly described the situation.

Jiang Nailing sucked in a breath of cold air. She had been fooled by Ji Gui’s obedient, introverted exterior; she never expected him to run away. After all, everyone Yuan Hui sent over was perfectly behaved; not a single person had ever fled. If she couldn’t find Ji Gui, she could forget about staying at this hospital.

What should we do? The Omega’s anxious voice came through the phone. Both of them knew the severity of the matter. If Ji Gui wasn’t found and the Yuan family took their anger out on Jiang Nailing, she would lose her job and her source of income. Their family’s standard of living would plummet.

Go look… he must be found tonight. Get a few more people to help. He’s just a kid; he can’t have run far, Jiang Nailing said quickly, taking a deep breath.

Her sympathy for Ji Gui was one thing, but unemployment was another. She couldn’t gamble her entire family’s fate to help him.

Night fell, and the city lights were brilliant and bustling.

Ji Gui walked the streets, occasionally looking up at the sky. The sky reflected the neon glow of the city. Before, he could only gaze at it from afar, but now he was actually in the middle of it.

Having no direction, he could only stubbornly walk forward.

Advertisements flickered on the plaza screens, occasionally switching to news reports about the country capturing a certain city on a certain planet.

But Ji Gui was in no mood to watch, nor did he understand it.

Shang followed beside him, watching him without a word.

At this moment, Ji Gui remembered a dream he had not long ago—[You will die, die in the bitter winter].

Shang, do you think things in dreams are believable? Ji Gui suddenly asked.

Shang answered quickly, Dreams aren’t believable, of course. Otherwise, people in the world would only need to daydream to get their wishes. How could it be that cheap?

Someone in the dream said I would die in the cold winter.

Hearing this, Shang couldn’t help but laugh. He told Ji Gui, Which winter? The four seasons cycle endlessly; which winter exactly? So don’t think so much.

Ji Gui felt much more at ease after hearing that. But when he looked up at the unfamiliar environment and the falling snow, and felt the hunger in his belly, he felt a sense of trance.

Was he doing the right thing? Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to do?

What exactly was he trying to do?

He couldn’t find his way, he couldn’t go home, and no one would care about him.

He glanced at Shang beside him and lowered his eyes again.

Suddenly, a thought surfaced. Perhaps dying here would be good too.

As long as he died, the cold, hunger, sadness, and pain would no longer exist. It would be like falling asleep, able to slumber peacefully in a dream.

That would surely be good.

What could he gain by continuing forward?

So sad, so painful.

In the wind and snow, he slowly turned his head and saw a lake surface reflecting multicolored lights under a nearby streetlamp.

He subconsciously walked toward it until he was stopped by a guardrail.

Shang watched him without making a sound, let alone stopping him.

Ji Gui wasn’t even as tall as the guardrail. He could only grip the railing and gaze at the waveless lake surface. He thought of Ivy. What did Ivy feel when she fell into the water?

Toward Ivy, his guilt wasn’t much—just a tiny bit. But seeing the water, he inevitably thought of her.

He looked left and right, walked onto a patch of grass without a railing, and went to the edge of the lake to crouch down. The water was bone-chillingly cold, “corroding” his skin inch by inch.

Before he even jumped, he was trembling all over, his heart racing.

So scary.

He didn’t dare. It seemed he didn’t want to die that much after all. Just the thought of being enveloped by icy lake water, the river water flooding his nose and blocking his breath, and then struggling in agony until his consciousness blurred…

Shang… Ji Gui turned back to look at Shang standing behind him. Where do you think people go after they die?

Shang sat down beside him, also looking at the lake, and said flatly, Nowhere. To die is to cease to exist.

Ji Gui withdrew his gaze, sighed, and turned away from the lake. He really couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything; he couldn’t find a path forward, and he didn’t even have the courage to die.

Why had he run out? He might as well go back now. Hopefully they hadn’t told Yuan Hui, and he could just return to his former life.

You’re going back? Shang saw his retreat. After walking a circle on the street, Ji Gui had completely lost his fighting spirit, looking like a grape withered by frost.

Ji Gui paused his steps but didn’t look back. I don’t know. I don’t seem to be able to do anything. Do you think I’m stupid and fickle? I don’t know anything; I have to rely on others for everything. If I leave Yuan Hui, I just can’t survive, can I? I wanted to die just now, but it felt so scary. To just die silently like that…

He was incoherent, saying whatever came to mind, yet his tone was incredibly calm, permeated with the deathly silence of winter.

I… if only I had never been born. Would I have been happy then? he asked quietly, still without turning around.

Shang was silent for a moment. Who knows?

But he quickly changed the subject. Do you want to die now?

Maybe… Ji Gui lowered his head and said softly.

Perhaps he really did want to die; he just hadn’t overcome the fear of death.

Hearing this, Shang let out a light laugh. His voice dropped low as he leaned in and whispered in Ji Gui’s ear, Then close your eyes… it’ll be quick.

His words carried an undisguised allure, like a demon in the dark appearing when one was off guard to tempt them, dragging them into a bottomless abyss.

Ji Gui’s body trembled. He realized something was wrong and could guess what Shang intended to do. Yet he didn’t refuse; instead, he closed his eyes.

He only felt his body become light, followed by a heavy plunge into the water.

It was bone-chilling. Lake water choked into his lungs.

Cough… help—

He opened his mouth to call for help, but was submerged by the flowing water.

Across the river, a man and a woman stood quietly under identical black umbrellas. Their gaze seemed able to pierce through the obstruction of the wind and snow to see the opposite bank.

The man’s black hair was slightly curled at the edges. He wore an unremarkable black trench coat, and his amber eyes glowed in the night, reflecting the misty snow on the river. His expression was like the eternal starry sky, unchanging even as ages passed.

The girl beside him looked about sixteen years old with crimson eyes. She wore a bright yellow dress, and her pure eyes sparkled with childlike curiosity. Her long hair was loose as she turned to the man beside her and pointed to the opposite bank, asking, Yi, that person’s aura is different from ordinary people. What is that?

The wind and snow grew heavier, the sound of the wind howling past.

The man called Yi had a smile on his lips as he spoke a single sentence.

An incomplete Calamity and a future Calamity.

The girl looked toward the opposite bank a few more times, saying with great interest, How interesting.