Chapter 39: The Underground World

The night wind carried a hint of chill, blowing into the hovering car and gently tossing Harshea’s hair. Sitting alone in the back row, she rested her head on one hand, her mind replaying the events of just moments ago.

Harshea had never held a favorable view of societal outcasts like Jolon. Had it not been for his special talent, which assured her he wasn't lying, she never would have agreed to come out with him.

Accepting an invitation from a stranger, or even an enemy, to head into a dangerous zone was by no means a wise course of action.

Yet, gifted as a diva, she had perceived Jolon's surging anxiety and remorse through soul resonance. Those emotions reached her and plunged her into hesitation. Could she really just refuse, sitting idly by as a life faded away—especially when that person was someone she had actually met?

She had stood in the apartment hallway for a full minute, concluding that a refusal, while not technically her fault, would leave a lingering sense of regret and sorrow.

*I really am soft-hearted, acting just like a fool,* Harshea mentally chided herself.

Still, if everyone lived their lives with such calculating self-interest, wouldn't existence become terribly exhausting? She was merely obeying her inner feelings, doing what she wanted to do. If even that had to be twisted and suppressed, what would be the point of all her striving?

Having lived through numerous life-altering trials, Harshea had long since seen through the facade of mundane existence; many things that outsiders cared deeply about no longer held weight for her.

*I cannot escape this sense of what is right.*

Despite her dislike for Jolon, she refused to violate her own conscience when it came to saving a life.

Having cleared her thoughts, the young girl felt an inexplicable lightness within her spirit, as if some mental barrier had shattered.

"What kind of situation did you all run into tonight?" she suddenly asked.

"Apologies, My Lady, for not making things clear to you earlier," Jolon replied promptly from the front seat.

"It wasn't a turf war or a brawl between lower-district gangs—I wouldn't dare disturb your life with such petty matters. This time, we encountered a special circumstance. The adversary wasn't a normal human; they were like your master's previous foes—out-of-control individuals who had lost their minds and turned into beasts."

"Is this kind of thing common?" Harshea had initially assumed only a tiny handful of people shared her predicament, but based on Jolon's description, the reality seemed far different.

"While the underworld has always been chaotic, and plenty of people resort to extremes in pursuit of power, they generally do so driven by ambition or greed. None of them are foolish enough to turn themselves into raving lunatics—that's no different from being dead."

"Yet this time, the scope of the fallout is massive. It's as if a whole crowd of such people suddenly appeared in the underworld, attacking everyone like mad dogs and turning everything upside down."

"Doesn't the Federation care about this?" the girl asked, puzzled.

"The Federal Government governs residential zones above the 70th floor. My companions and I reside below the 70th floor—places the Stellar Net cannot reach. It's harsh and deeply chaotic down there."

"Why live there?"

"Because most of them lack proper identification. Just as you might imagine, a lot of them are scum, unregistered citizens, and fugitives, though some are stranded underground due to historical reasons."

"You can probably still see old protest slogans in the hallways of your residential district, right?" Jolon brought up out of the blue.

"I know them. What were those?" A vague realization dawned in Harshea's heart.

"That's right. Back then, Cadenza City—or rather, all the northern districts—suffered severe protests. The conflict between residents and the government reached such a critical point that the Federal Government even had to dispatch troops from the southern regions to suppress it."

"The decline of the Four-Leaf Crystal Star Sector triggered numerous social issues: welfare benefits kept shrinking, life at the bottom grew harder, while a tiny elite remained untouched. That caused grievances to pile up deeper and deeper until they finally exploded."

"People smashed government facilities, destroyed surveillance cameras, looted supermarkets, and so on. Amidst the chaos, order gradually collapsed."

"My master was implicated in those events back then. As a result, he was expelled, leaving a severe mark on his record that barred him from ever entering any university or even finding decent work. He fell from a brilliant genius to an unemployed drifter in the slums."

"Under the threat of government troops and appeasement tactics, the turmoil eventually subsided. Many were pardoned, but a small fraction of core participants were either banished or saddled with permanent black marks on their files. Destitute and displaced, they had no choice but to flee to the underground world, huddling together for survival."

"They have children and descendants, but these kids possess no Federal citizen ID cards and are destined to live out their lives down there."

"My little brother, Blu—the tall, chubby guy you saw—is born of such an origin."

"He has followed me for years, from age fifteen to now, transforming from a scrawny, dark kid into the plump fellow you met. Later on, I spent a sum of money to secure an identity for him at the police station so he could safely access certain facilities within the Federation."

"Though such a record isn't completely bulletproof and wouldn't withstand deep scrutiny, it's a luxurious privilege compared to our brothers and sisters trapped in the deep underground. It even grants him a free monthly relief ration."

"Relief rations..." Harshea fell into thought.

She had tasted those herself. To be frank, the texture was atrocious—simply starch mixed with artificially synthesized protein powder and other nutrients, blended evenly, compressed, and sealed. They had to be soaked in hot water before eating, otherwise they were nearly impossible to swallow.

Aside from beggars and those utterly at the end of their rope, no one would ever eat such things.

Even so, such provisions served as rare, hard currency in the underground world.

Lacking the Stellar Net and electronic terminals, digital Federal currency was useless underground, forcing residents to rely almost entirely on barter.

"What do the people in the underground world eat on a regular basis?" the girl continued to inquire.

"They eat garbage," Jolon answered.

Cadenza City was an industrial metropolis housing numerous food processing plants. The production of Tier 5 and Tier 6 foodstuffs invariably generated a vast amount of substandard products and wasted raw material residue. While normal citizens wouldn't touch this refuse, it served as vital sustenance for the underground world.

Every year, underground gangs would engage in bloody turf wars over this 'garbage.' The mass death of normal Federal citizens would draw the attention of management AIs, but underground lives were worthless; three standard Tier 6 meal packs were enough to make a punk kill someone for you.

"Do the government and police know about this?"

"They certainly know, though perhaps not in detail," Jolon shook his head slightly.

"As long as we maintain a certain level of order and compliance, and don't disturb the lives of residents in the urban sectors above the 70th floor, they couldn't care less about rats like us in the sewers."

"Sometimes, we even help the police handle inconvenient matters, like tracking down missing persons or lost property, or putting pressure on certain companies and corporations."

"Some corporate legal teams are ruthless, squeezing massive profits for themselves within 'reasonable' legal boundaries before washing their hands of the matter and dumping the lingering problems onto the government. When it's inconvenient for the government and police to step in directly, they need us."

"Sigh..."

The girl sighed softly, unwilling to pass judgment on a world so bleak yet authentic.

"Let's get back to what's happening tonight," she redirected the conversation to the immediate crisis.

"Right. The events of tonight are primarily connected to the locked-down D390 industrial zone. There's a milk factory there, which is also one of the places where we regularly collect 'garbage'..." Jolon began to recount the chaos sparked by the milk factory and how it had spread.

...

"In other words, everyone who drank their milk mutated tonight?" the girl synthesized the information.

"Yes. Because it was milk nearing or past its expiration date that couldn't be stored any longer, once shipped to the underground world, it was consumed rapidly."

"Didn't you check it? Ah, my mistake." The girl shook her board. Reduced to surviving on garbage and expired food, how could anyone spare the effort to check for taste and safety?

"We didn't check, because that's how we've always done things," Jolon replied before continuing.

"When they first drank it, some people claimed their bodies felt filled with strength and an inexplicable excitement. Others echoed the sentiment, prompting even more people to try it."

"Everyone assumed we had stumbled upon a batch of superior defective goods—discards from Tier 4 food production. Tier 4 foodstuffs possess certain transcendent properties, even when damaged or expired, so feeling a surge of strength seemed normal."

"And so, amidst the scrambling, the situation gradually shifted. Some people grew increasingly agitated, fights broke out, the scale of the disturbance expanded, and finally, it spiraled entirely out of control. Those who drank the milk turned into madmen, becoming out-of-control monsters..."

"That is all the information I have. I hope it helps you, My Lady."

"Um, you really don't need to call me My Lady."

Harshea suddenly realized Jolon's form of address was incorrect. How many times had he used that title tonight? She had been too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice earlier.

"I'm just an ordinary student, and you probably have a rough idea of my family's financial situation," Harshea denied.

"It has nothing to do with family background. Out of respect and gratitude for your character—risking danger to come to the underground world to save my companion—I am entirely willing to call you My Lady."

"I am deeply sorry for my earlier actions; it was my fault. I am ready to accept whatever punishment you deem fit afterward. If there is ever anything you need me for, feel free to command me."

"To command you is far too dramatic," the girl shook her head.

"Though... perhaps there really is something I need your help looking into..." She thought of her father, who had been missing for nearly a year.

She wondered what on earth had happened to him and why he had suddenly bid farewell and left home.

The secrets buried in her past were still waiting for her to uncover them, step by step.