Republic Calendar Year 187, July 18, 2:45 a.m.
Location: Disorderly Patchwork Fields
On the map of the Republic, there is a deliberately blurred gray area.
No roads are marked there, no population is marked there, and there are no administrative numbers.
Official documents use only a vague term to represent it—Unowned Area.
But the people living there have their own names.
—The Chaotic Miscellaneous Fields.
No one knows who first coined that name.
And no one cares.
Because everything here has no origin.
---
The Chaotic Miscellaneous Fields have no daytime.
The dilapidated tin roof rattles under the night dew, and the distant echoes of motorcycle engines mingle with the vomiting of drunkards and the lewd laughter of women. Three smells are perpetually mixed in the air—
Garbage, cheap alcohol, and blood.
When Su woke up, it was still dark.
The first thing she did upon opening her eyes was to reach under her pillow.
Not for her phone, but for her wallet.
She slowly exhaled, confirming her bag was still there.
The bed beside her was empty.
Luo had already left.
She sat up, her feet sinking into the cold cement floor. The only thing in the room was a half-collapsed window. A neon sign hung outside, flashing briefly before going out for three seconds.
This used to be a repair shop.
Now it was their home.
To be precise, their place of refuge.
In this chaotic, chaotic world, the word "home" was a luxury.
---
Su first met Luo after a brawl.
She had just learned how not to get beaten to death.
He had just learned how to beat someone without leaving evidence.
They didn't confess their feelings, nor did they make any promises.
One day, after dividing the loot, they realized they had nowhere to go.
So they started living together.
Their life was simple to the point of being brutal—steal, hide, survive.
Scouting locations by day, striking at night.
Sometimes it's a warehouse, sometimes a vending machine, sometimes a car parked too long on the street.
Luo is in charge of unlocking and navigating.
Su is in charge of the action.
She's quick-witted, petite, and ruthless.
She's especially good at one thing—
making the other person "back down."
---
In this chaotic, unregulated place, there are no laws, but there are rules.
The most important rule is:
Don't cause unnecessary trouble.
Su doesn't like fighting, but she knows how to clean up the mess.
She has her own set of "methods."
Not techniques, but a kind of aura.
She'll stare into the other person's eyes, neither looking away nor being aggressive.
Just coldly watching.
Then she'll slowly smile.
That smile is cold, like the back of a knife against your neck.
Many times, the other person backs down.
Taking a step back is better for everyone.
Taking a step forward means bearing the consequences.
---
That night, they had just finished a job.
The warehouse contained a batch of smuggled electronic components, not particularly valuable, but easy to sell.
Luo was in a good mood and dragged her to their usual bar.
The bar had no name.
The sign outside was long gone, only a single blue fluorescent tube flickering weakly.
It was always noisy, always dirty, always crowded.
They found a corner to sit down.
Luo ordered the cheapest liquor, downed half a glass in one gulp, and said with a smile,
"This will last three days."
Su didn't reply, just sipped slowly.
She wasn't a bad drinker, but she'd drunk a little too fast today.
Perhaps because she hadn't stopped for too long.
The music was deafening, the lights flickering.
The crowd churned like an unwashed soup.
She suddenly felt a little tired.
Not a physical tiredness.
It was a kind of—
indescribable weariness, like…having lived too long.
---
Luo answered a phone call midway through, his expression changing slightly.
"I have to go to the docks."
He stood up, slung his coat over his shoulder. "You go back first."
Su nodded.
This kind of thing was common.
The chaotic, unruly night never belonged to one person.
After he left, she ordered another drink.
Then another.
Time began to blur.
"Damn it…"
---
Someone sat down next to her.
She didn't notice at first.
Until a hand landed on the bar, blocking her glass.
"Alone?"
The voice was greasy, with a deliberate hint of frivolity.
Su didn't look up, just reached out and moved the glass away.
"None of your business."
The man smiled, but didn't leave.
He smelled strongly, like the stench of sweat that cheap cologne couldn't mask.
A tattoo peeked out from his cuff, the mark of some local thug.
She finally looked up.
He clearly recognized her.
"Oh, it's you," the man raised an eyebrow. "That kid Luo got lucky."
Su's expression didn't change.
But that cold gaze returned.
She stared at him as if he were something destined to break down.
"Get lost," she spat.
Her tone wasn't harsh, but it was decisive.
The man paused for a second, then smiled even wider.
"Such a temper."
His hand didn't retract; instead, it moved closer.
Su's patience was slowly wearing thin.
If she were sober, she would have gotten up and left.
Or simply turned on him.
But alcohol made the world thick.
Her reaction was a beat slower.
The man took it as acquiescence.
His fingers lightly touched her wrist.
In that instant, Su's eyes changed.
Not anger.
But a deep-seated disgust. She hated being touched without permission.
Especially this kind of—touch with a special meaning.
She looked up, staring at him.
That smile appeared again.
Cold, empty, painful.
The man paused instinctively.
But it was too noisy, too crowded.
He didn't back down.
"Don't be so fierce," he said softly, "Have a drink with me."
Su didn't speak again.
She simply finished her drink and stood up.
"That's enough." Her movements were slightly unsteady.
She didn't look at him again, walking straight to the door.
This time, she chose to leave.
It wasn't worth it.
---
The night wind was much colder than in the bar.
The chaotic, overgrown streets at dawn were like a half-dead patient recovering from a fever, quiet and chilly.
Neon lights flickered in the distance, and garbage bags were blown around by the wind.
Most of the streetlights were broken, their light fragmented and cut off.
Su strayed slightly, unsure of where she was going.
Her mind was a jumbled mess, like it had been soaked in water.
She cursed.
"Damn."
She didn't know who she was cursing.
Perhaps she was cursing herself.
She turned into a familiar alley.
It was a row of abandoned rest areas, with a few rusty deck chairs, originally for workers.
Now no one used them.
She walked over and collapsed onto one of them.
The metal chair was icy cold.
But she was too lazy to move.
---
Just then, the sky brightened.
It wasn't lightning.
It was a thin streak of light.
She squinted, looking at the night sky.
A shooting star streaked across the sky.
But the color was wrong.
It wasn't white.
It wasn't orange either.
It was—
Purple.
The light, as if stained by something, trailed a faint shadow, slowly traversing the sky above the city.
Su stared at it for a long time.
The alcohol seemed to stretch time.
She suddenly laughed, her voice hoarse.
"Fine."
She lay back, cursing at the sky:
"Since it's just a fucking shooting star..."
"Then give me something useful."
She paused, as if considering her wish.
Then she whispered:
"Let all those bastard men go away."
After saying it, she found it laughable.
"...Never mind."
She closed her eyes, muttering:
"If it really works, then let me—"
She didn't finish.
The night wind blew, and the purple light disappeared into the horizon.
The world returned to its gray state.
"Sigh."
---
She didn't know how long she had been lying there.
She didn't know when she fell asleep.
She only remembered footsteps approaching.
Heavy, slow.
And the sound of breathing mixed with the smell of alcohol and smoke.
She frowned and opened her eyes.
The man was standing in front of her.
The one from the bar.
He looked down at her, a knowing smile on his face.
"Lying here."
Su's consciousness wasn't fully awake.
She tried to sit up, but he grabbed her shoulder.
The force was heavy.
In an instant, all the discomfort rushed in.
Cold air, alcohol, stench, vomit—
All mixed together.
"Let go," she whispered.
The man didn't move.
Instead, he leaned down.
"Stop it."
His hand began to slide down.
At that moment, Su's mind suddenly cleared.
Not in a conscious way.
But in a way—
An instinctive alarm. Her breathing quickened.
Her heart leaped.
Something exploded deep within her.
Like something being ignited.
She tried to push him away.
Her hand had barely risen—
A sharp pain shot through her.
Not an external pain.
It was a tearing pain from within.
Her bones were moving.
She felt it clearly—
The tearing sensation from her bones.
The next second.
A sharp white thorn pierced her forearm.
Without warning.
Without control.
Just a moment—
An explosion.
The man didn't even react.
The bone spur had pierced his chest.
Warm blood gushed out, like a face mask.
The world fell silent.
The wind stopped.
Even the distant neon lights seemed to freeze.
Su sat on the recliner, her hand still raised.
She looked at her hand.
At the sharp thorn growing from her flesh and bone.
There was no scream.
No tears.
She just sat there, stunned.
The blood on her face slowly cooled, turning into a mask.
The distant night sky was empty.
As if that purple shooting star had never existed.