CH635 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 635: The Apartment of Souls

“Zero?” Roland asked, uncertain.

She rolled her eyes. She set the plates on the coffee table and folded herself cross-legged onto the floor beside it. Her voice was soft and childlike, her figure slight, her feet—small enough to fit inside his cupped palm—disappearing beneath the hem of a light blue dress and white silk stockings. Nothing about her resembled the pure witch who had tried to tear his mind apart.

She hadn’t denied the name. That was admission enough.

What do I do? Kill her?

He studied her. In this form she was twelve years old, fragile, and completely without the inhuman speed and strength of an Extraordinary. He slipped into the kitchen, found a paring knife on the rack, and tucked it into his belt before walking back to the table.

His plate held a fried egg and two crullers. She had one cruller—he’d gotten an extra egg. It was a perfect specimen: gold at the edges, slightly scorched, the center domed gently over an orange yolk still liquid inside.

Zero picked up her egg with chopsticks and finished it in three bites, then moved to the crullers. “What were you doing yesterday? Looking for cockroaches on the ceiling?”

“No. It was dirty. I wanted to clean it.”

She glanced up at the ceiling, then at him. “Why didn’t you just tie a rag on a pole?”

“Didn’t work.” He cleared his throat. “Did you make breakfast?”

“Uncle.” A faint edge of concern crossed her face. “Are you all right? I’ve been making breakfast since I moved in.”

Since I moved in. He let it pass—pressing the point would only make her suspicious. “Where were you living before that?”

He didn’t ask it aloud.

She finished eating quickly, with the unselfconscious efficiency of someone used to making time for things other than meals. Then she extended one hand toward him. “Give me some money. We’re out of food.”

“The market?”

“I have to shop. I can’t go without money.”

A middle school student, already managing the household. Roland patted his pockets and found nothing. Zero sighed. “Second drawer of the nightstand.”

He returned to the bedroom and found it: a thin wallet containing roughly three hundred yuan and a handful of lottery tickets.

“How much do you need?”

“Twenty. I can only carry so much anyway.”

He handed her fifty. She looked at the bill with brief surprise, then tucked it into her coin purse without comment.

“Your hands.” He’d noticed the band-aids as she reached for the money—two fingers, index and middle.

“Cut myself picking up the broken glass. It’s nothing.” She stood, hiked her backpack onto her shoulders. “It would help if you didn’t smash things.” She pulled on her shoes at the door. “I’m going to school. I won’t be back at noon—clean the dishes. And if your head still hurts, see a doctor. Don’t do anything stupid again.”

“Isn’t it summer vacation?”

“Tutoring center.” She poked her head back through the doorway. “Uncle. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Then she was gone.

Roland stood at the corridor railing and looked down. Through the crowd below, Zero’s white hair moved like a signal light—conspicuous, and somehow ignored. No one on the street looked twice. A moment later, two blonde girls ran toward her from an alley, and the three of them disappeared together.

She has friends here.

He rubbed his forehead. What an absurd dream.

He turned back toward the apartment—and stopped.

A woman was walking toward him down the corridor.

She had long grey hair, eyebrows arched high, a nose and mouth that rhymed with Tilly’s. But where Tilly’s face invited, this one warned: cold and proud and composed in the specific way of someone who has always had the power to make the warning stick.

Prince Roland’s memory recognized her before the rest of him did.

Garcia Wimbledon.

Roland’s hand moved to the knife at his belt.

“Get out of my way,” she said, expression contemptuous, not even looking at him directly.

“You—don’t recognize me?” It came out as genuine surprise.

She sneered. “Why would I? Because you dye your hair the same color as mine?” Her gaze finally landed on him. Something in it hardened. “If you know my name, then you know not to trouble me.” She curled her fingers one by one—slow, deliberate—knuckles cracking in sequence. “Walk away.”

She doesn’t know me. But she wasn’t startled that I knew her name.

Garcia passed him and turned into room 0827.

Roland looked at her door. Then he began to think.

He walked the full length of the corridor, moving toward the far stairwell at a slow jog, counting doors as he went. When the corridor finally ended, the last room number read 0899. Nearly a hundred households on one floor. The building was designed in the old tube-apartment style of the seventies and eighties—which could accommodate a dozen households at most, crowded together in a single row. This structure was impossible.

He climbed the stairs.

Iron railings with most of their green paint flaked away. Rust visible beneath. Walls pasted over with small advertisements of the kind that had been illegal in cities for thirty years. The details were perfect—the smell of concrete dust, the slightly greasy handrail, the echo that only empty stairwells in old buildings have.

He climbed to the top floor. Floor twenty-two.

He found the first room on the topmost corridor. Number 2245.

Roland did the arithmetic: twenty-two floors, each with something close to a hundred units. More than two thousand households.

“It’s impossible for you to win. I’ve devoured thousands—soldiers, an Extraordinary—over the years.”

He remembered Zero’s voice from the rooftop battle.

He looked at the length of the corridor and understood.

This apartment was not Zero’s imagination. It was her record.

The people living here—the losers of the Soul Battlefield.

And now, it seemed, Zero was one of them.

Discussion

Suggest a change