Chapter 20: The Mental Anchor

Only after receiving Star-Abyss’s promise did Charlie stop his sobbing. With a final sniffle that left a bubble of snot on his nose, he smiled and bid Su Ninglong goodbye.

“Brother Abyss, thank you for your hard work. This kid is going to be a real handful.”

Su Ninglong, shaking her head with an old-fashioned air, received a light flick on the forehead from Star-Abyss. “Less snide remarks, more focus.”

What goes around comes around; sins committed always find a way to be repaid. Star-Abyss swore to himself that he would never gloat in front of his peers again.

The blink of an eye brought them to Friday morning. Su Ninglong had been rushing through her homework, not finishing until three in the morning.

Funi, the Interstellar History teacher, was a maniac when it came to assignments. After the first class, she had assigned five separate tasks: one for copying, one for memorization, a research report on the number and names of human races before the Great Interstellar Integration, an analysis of significant cultural shifts before and after the Integration, and finally, a requirement for students to visit a historical site over the weekend and report back with their reflections.

Star-Abyss presented a lavish breakfast. Su Ninglong sat at the table, her eyes hazy with fatigue. Seeing the dark circles under her eyes, Star-Abyss asked, “Did you stay up late? Insomnia?”

For the past week, Su Ninglong had been going to bed on time, and Star-Abyss hadn't felt the need to supervise her. He hadn’t expected her to slack off the moment he looked away.

Su Ninglong replied, “I was rushing my homework. I suspect Teacher Funi wears those thick glasses just to hide her cunning, scheming eyes.”

“Did you get so absorbed in your books that you missed Funi’s final instructions? You only need to turn in the copying assignment today; the memorization test isn’t until next Thursday’s class. As for the last three assignments, you only need to complete them sometime this school year under our guidance. Children your age aren’t even literate yet; she wouldn't expect you to finish such complex tasks alone.”

Su Ninglong was shocked. Wasn't homework meant to be finished the same day it was assigned?

Star-Abyss asked, “Have you finished them all?”

“Just the historical site visit left,” Su Ninglong said, stuffing a fried egg into her mouth, her voice muffled. “I’m just too straightforward of a person.”

“Can I see your work?” Star-Abyss was worried that the quality of her independent work might be too low, leading Funi to believe he wasn't doing his job as her guide.

Su Ninglong handed him her work. “The copying is handwritten; I wrote it really beautifully. Everything else is on the Interstellar Net.”

Star-Abyss picked up her notebook with skepticism. Interstellar Common script was logographic, with many forms of calligraphy. Su Ninglong’s handwriting was round and full, much like the impression she gave—cute and endearing. The strokes had a sharp edge, yet were restrained; the writing reflected the person. It was clear Su Ninglong was a little one with a temper.

It was indeed, as she had claimed, quite beautiful. Perhaps because her hands were still small and lacked strength, the overall look was a bit airy, but that was a minor issue.

After finishing breakfast, Star-Abyss had flipped through all her assignments. He couldn't believe this was the work of a four-year-old. The references and data she had found were all clearly marked, with no signs of laziness. He couldn't find the same documents online, proving that the work was entirely and independently completed by Su Ninglong.

“Ninglong, you make me proud, but also a bit melancholic. My job as your guide doesn't seem all that important to you.” Star-Abyss chose to voice his thoughts rather than keep them bottled up.

“Brother Star-Abyss, what would I do without you? Without you, I’d be eating pig swill again. Gourmet food is my only motivation for living!” Su Ninglong made an exaggerated, dramatic gesture of clutching her chest, failing to notice a cylindrical part she had left lying on the floor.

At an age where she couldn't fully control her body yet, Su Ninglong’s face collided with the wall, and she knocked her tooth. Star-Abyss rushed over to check on her. Her little nose was bright red, but there didn't seem to be any major injury. However, only the person involved knows for sure. Su Ninglong rubbed her nose, opened her mouth, and poked her front tooth—it was loose. A slight tug from her itchy fingers, and it came out.

Blood began to flow, and her saliva tasted of rust. Su Ninglong was stunned. “My tooth!”

“Don’t panic, it’s normal for children to lose their baby teeth.” Star-Abyss pulled out the medical kit from the drawer to help her stop the bleeding. Seeing the blood wouldn't stop, he quickly put on his coat and carried her to the infirmary.

When they arrived, it happened to be the female doctor’s shift. The infirmary was large, with over a dozen beds and two medical pods for critical patients. Floor-to-ceiling windows reached toward the roof, cutting the sunlight into diamond-shaped patches that scattered across the spotless floor, refracting tiny specks of light. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant, not at all pungent.

Star-Abyss put Su Ninglong down and explained the situation to the doctor. “Dr. Lena, please check if she’s alright. The bleeding won't stop; she’s already gone through three cotton swabs.”

Dr. Lena’s round, fair fingertips lifted Su Ninglong’s lip to examine it carefully. “Little one, you’re quite ruthless when you decide to be, aren’t you?”

There was still a bit of fresh gum tissue on the tooth, indicating it hadn't been long since it fell out.

“The wound is a bit large, and since she just had breakfast, the blood flow is strong, making it hard to heal. A bit of healing agent will do the trick.” Dr. Lena instructed in a gentle voice, “The medicine is a bit bitter. Keep it in your mouth, don’t swallow it, and spit it out after one minute. Do you understand?”

Su Ninglong was robust, and this was her first time at the hospital, as well as her first time trying interstellar medicine. She nodded and held the medicine as instructed. It was incredibly bitter. The bitterness made Su Ninglong’s face scrunch up like a pug, her eyes filling with tears that hung precariously, making her look pitiful.

Dr. Lena smiled, appearing like a great witch in human skin. “You aren’t allowed to spit it out yet.”

One minute passed, and Su Ninglong spat out the healing agent and rinsed her mouth with water. Her mouth felt dry and astringent. She touched her tongue and gagged. She hadn't vomited when eating Zou Shuyi’s swill, nor when riding the shuttle, but she was vomiting now after the medicine.

“What a brave little one, but no candy allowed. You have to wait two hours.” Dr. Lena took the candy Su Ninglong was clutching in her palm.

Su Ninglong looked shocked. “That’s robbery!”

“Hahaha.” Dr. Lena tapped Su Ninglong’s nose. “A little one who whistles when she talks, the doctor is just looking out for you. You should go to class now.”

Star-Abyss kept a smile on his face the whole time. “Take the candy as a treat for the doctor. Be more careful where you step next time.”

Su Ninglong looked dejected. “Remember to clean up for me when you get back.”

“Yeah, yeah, I clean up for you every day. You’re just the one who leaves a mess everywhere.”

It was even more bitter now; the blame was entirely her own, and she couldn't shake it off.

Leaving the infirmary with Su Ninglong, Star-Abyss jogged with her to her rescue class. After the incident with the tooth, Star-Abyss didn't bring up the topic of his own uselessness as a guide again.

He knocked on the classroom door for her, and to his surprise, the teacher on the podium was Yun Fei.

“Teacher Yun, sorry, I’m late. Because of this.” Su Ninglong bared her teeth.

Yun Fei’s tone was familiar. “Where have you been causing trouble? I haven’t seen you in a few days, and now you’re a gap-toothed girl.”

The teenagers looked at her in amazement, not understanding why such a small child was in their class. Su Ninglong sat down in the seat reserved for her in the front row. It was a class for twelve-year-olds, and the chairs were quite high; her short legs couldn't even reach the floor.

“Teacher Yun, start the lesson! You’ve already wasted two minutes.”

Yun Fei raised an eyebrow and cut the small talk; today’s lesson was quite dense. Star-Abyss turned and left. Yun Fei picked up two ominous-looking plates. “I assume you all know that these things are called 'Secret-Keeper Tokens,' one of the indispensable tools for containing Secret Spirits.”

Su Ninglong wanted to signal that she didn't know, but she didn't interrupt. Yun Fei seemed to understand her situation, intentionally repeating some of the content the older students had already learned to make the lesson easier to grasp. “After containing a monster, the Secret-Keeper Token can cause the holder to suffer mental breakdowns, polluting their soul and body until they either become one of them or die completely. The more people polluted, the stronger the Secret Spirit group becomes.”

“But relying on the token alone isn't enough to execute containment effectively. You need auxiliary items.” Yun Fei brought out a black, ear-mounted tool. “A Mental Anchor. Once activated, it briefly embeds nano-nerves to help stabilize your cognition and escape visual hallucinations. With this on, you’ll be able to tell the difference between these two tokens.”

“Does anyone want to try?”

“Teacher, is one of the tokens in your hand holding a Secret Spirit?” a student asked.

“That’s correct.”

“Teacher, how do you keep from being affected? Didn't you say the token would cause the holder to lose their mind?”

Yun Fei seemed to have expected this question. He responded with the poise of an experienced instructor, “I’ll answer that once you can tell the tokens apart.”

Su Ninglong, intrigued by this novelty, immediately raised both hands. The student next to her gave her a look that said, *You’re so brave.*

“You’re still too young to use an anchor,” Yun Fei rejected her request.

Another student, a Green-Scaled person, raised her hand.

“Sally, it’s always you. Come on up.”

Yun Fei gave her the anchor and instructed her on how to use it properly. “Be gentle with your strength, and describe what you feel while using it, understand?”

Green-Scaled people were famous for their strength, and Sally possessed this attribute of infinite power. They often forgot this, leading to the destruction of much of the school’s equipment. For the Green-Scaled, the compensation for broken equipment was a huge expense. Yun Fei had to remind her specifically.

Sally nodded and carefully put on the anchor.

“My temples feel cold, and it hurts,” Sally said, her face twisted in pain.

The nano-nerves of the anchor pressed against her skin, connecting to the nerves of her skull. Sally found it increasingly difficult to control her expression.

“Pain is normal. If it didn't hurt, you’d have to worry about whether you were stuck in a world of distorted perception. The designer of the anchor originally intended for it to be painless, but it turned out not to work. When you are in the midst of cognitive distortion, it’s hard to wear the device correctly. Intense pain will snap you back to reality briefly. It sounds like masochism, but in fact, pain might be the only way to save your life.”

Sally endured the pain, her green skin turning pale, her eyes unfocused.

“Sally, tell us how you feel.”

Once it was properly fitted, Sally’s expression relaxed, and she felt good. “I feel light, and my vision is much clearer.”

Yun Fei suddenly knocked a stack of particle books off the podium. Without thinking, Sally’s eyes tracked them, and she caught them steadily.

“That is the function of the anchor. It puts your neurological response speed into a state beyond that of a normal person. Periodic use will allow you to adapt to it slowly.”

The students gasped. “Periodic use makes you that powerful?”

“Powerful, yes, but there are side effects. If you don't become a Hunter and fail to hunt Secret Spirits, you will lose decades of your life because of it.”

The students gasped in horror. Setting aside the hyper-intelligent beings, how long was a human lifespan? Three hundred years at most; for ordinary people, reaching a hundred and fifty was already an achievement. Misuse leading to the loss of decades of life? That was a total trap.

The students focused even harder, fearing they would miss a single detail.

“The significance of this rescue course lies right here. If you want to enter the Hunter profession, you must be clear on how to use all auxiliary instruments. Overuse will kill you.” Yun Fei was not just fear-mongering. “More than five thousand Hunters have died to date. Over a hundred of them died because they relied too heavily on auxiliary instruments, and thousands more were severely injured, making them unable to perform containment tasks ever again.”

“Alright, let’s get to today’s topic. Here, I have a token containing a Secret Spirit and an empty one. With the anchor on, Sally can make brief contact with them.”

The students in the audience leaned forward, wanting to see more clearly.

The moment Sally held the two tokens, a powerful pressure filled her eardrums, as if she were being crushed in the deep sea. Endless whispers accompanied the ticking of clock gears. The gasps and swallowing sounds of her classmates turned into bubbly distortions.

A disjointed spatial dislocation appeared before her eyes; half the classroom was normal, while the other half was incubating phosphorescent, spore-like fish eggs. Because of her intrusion, the fish eggs rotated in unison, the eyes hidden beneath the membranes staring straight at her.

Sally screamed in pain, unable to distinguish reality from hallucination. Looking at the fish eggs, fear welled up within her, and then the anchor kicked in. A sharp, stinging pain hit her temples. Sally shrieked and threw the token containing the Secret Spirit forward.

The token landed on Su Ninglong’s desk in an arc. The students around her scrambled away, retreating three meters.

As Sally broke free from the abnormality and knelt on the floor, Yun Fei handed her a cup of warm water. She drank it in one breath, terror still lingering in her eyes. “Was that... a real Secret Spirit?”

“It might only be a part of one,” Yun Fei said, pulling Sally up coldly. “Stand straight. A class must have a beginning and an end. Tell us what you felt just now.”

“It... it spawned many fish eggs with eyes... I felt so small, I don’t know how to describe it.” Sally shook her head, sad and confused, not understanding what had happened to her.

“Go back to your seat. If you haven't recovered by the end of class, remember to get a check-up and see the school psychologist.”

Sally wiped away her tears and nodded. Yun Fei walked over to Su Ninglong’s desk, and Su Ninglong handed him the token.