Chapter 12: People Subconsciously Seek Answers

Aomo never imagined his offhand remark could have any consequences, so after the reporter thanked him, he simply left.

He could also see the reporter's forced smile; reflecting on his own remarks and the time taken, he felt he had gained something that could be useful next time.

Assuming there will be another interview.

Forget it, don't think about that... Aomo focused on heading out, but because the crowd waiting outside the exam hall was huge, holding his umbrella made his steps difficult.

After all, it's the Gaokao; it's natural for examinees' relatives and friends to gather outside the hall to welcome them. In contrast, Aomo's foster father is busy and thick‑skulled; only one person is capable of picking up his friends, yet that person seems still stuck in the exam hall like an examinee, which is truly a rarity.

To be honest, Bi Ze's knowledge from this life is more than enough to skip the Gaokao; besides, he's planning to slack off until next year, so this doesn't matter at all. But since he said he wants to experience an otherworldly Gaokao and scout for next year, Aomo couldn't really say anything.

I just hope he doesn't end up more imprisoned than I am.

Speaking of which, did he bring an umbrella? Never mind, an alien won't catch a cold from getting wet once.

Aomo mechanically repeated, "Sorry, let me pass," while squeezing outward, he began to envy his foster father's mist‑shifting talent; actually he could consider using a heat‑flow impact to give himself a leap, but that would easily attract security and more attention.

Then let's just treat it as another round of supermarket discount‑vegetable grabbing...

Aomo has been through this since childhood; by now he counts as a battle‑hardened individual, having early on developed excellent endurance and balance from being squeezed in crowds of aunties and uncles.

The latter presents more opportunities in daily life—for instance, when standing on a bus or subway with no seats, one doesn't need straps or handrails, which makes Bi Ze quite envious.

If he paid a little more attention in outdoor classes, it would help; Limen Middle School does have source‑energy foundations and martial combat training, and a stable stance is also fundamental, but Bi Ze's attention whenever he hears such talk is only on the word 'snack'.

Aomo was just wondering what that guy would be like after a year of slacking off.

Deadlines usually give people the strength to overcome anything, but that's only usually the case.

After all... can that guy Bi Ze even be considered a normal person?

Maybe he'll just set up G Company on the spot and then get swallowed by a huge flying saucer.

Thinking of this, Aomo, who had finally squeezed out of the crowd, turned to look at the wall of people behind him and shook his head.

Looking back again, he saw a young man holding an umbrella staring at him; the moment their eyes met, the other revealed an unnatural smile.

"Hey."

He also greeted himself.

A face somewhere between familiar and unfamiliar appearing here surprised Aomo; his unconscious thought was that it seemed Bi Ze hadn't just been slacking these past two days—he also had the leisure to branch out in his social circle.

The young man was David Martinez, a cyberpunk traveler who had briefly interacted with Aomo a few days earlier; the impression he left on Aomo wasn't as deep as Grace's, but he did remember that he got along well with Bi Ze.

This also made him subconsciously think the guy might have come to pick up Bi Ze, but responding to the greeting was always safe.

"Hello." Aomo gave a slight nod, noticed the other seemed a bit restrained, and decided to leave right away to avoid an awkward situation.

But he didn't expect that when the other saw him about to leave, he would use an 'Er Kang hand' gesture to detain him, saying, "Wait a moment!"

"?"

Facing Aomo's puzzled gaze as he stopped, David embarrassedly rubbed the back of his head and asked, "... Can we chat?"

"..." He glanced at the nearby crowd growing louder as examinees poured out of the hall, Aomo pointed toward the café across the school gate and said, "Let's go there; if you're waiting for Bi Ze, you can see him directly."

"Uh..." David looked at the kind of shop he'd never been to before, hesitated a moment, nodded, and said, "Okay."

"It's not like we can only order coffee," Aomo said calmly as he walked ahead, "relax."

"All right then," David visibly relaxed, then a second later froze and asked, "Is it really that easy to tell?"

"I've heard Mr. Martinez's hometown is practically synonymous with cyberpunk culture."

"Just call me David; I'm not... from the Jidong Area."

"Okay, good, David," Aomo replied as instructed, "So David, I've heard your hometown is practically synonymous with cyberpunk culture."

This information came from his casual chats with Bi Ze over the past two days.

"Indeed, some people have said that about us," David recalled the days he'd spent these past two days at Mann's place.

Lucy, Rebecca, Dolly, Falco... everyone was there, those days were wonderful as if a dream, almost making him forget how he'd gotten here.

Back then, recalling his first encounter with the student named Aomo Lindun, the first thing he realized was embarrassment; he felt his intellect had practically regressed to the level of when he first started school.

It was also then that he heard Bi Ze say these days there would be a Gaokao, the most important assessment for students in this world, so David decided to thick‑skinnedly come take a look.

Thinking that if the other person were actually surrounded by many people, he would find another chance to thank them; but if nobody was there...

But he never imagined his expectation would turn out like this scene.

He had his thoughts seen through directly by the other; although their ages were not far apart, and upon closer inspection he was actually the younger one, he still felt his experience was enough to armor his image and build a mature demeanor—

—but now he was suppressed the moment they met.

Walking step for step behind him, he listened as the other explained the reason for seeing through his thoughts: "Cybernetic augmentation, perhaps because I'm too accustomed to the convenience of remote voice and consciousness exchange, leading to a lack of regard for emotional management."

The dark‑haired, brown‑eyed youth's eyes flickered with a gloomy light that made David shudder from the depths of his heart; although the similarities between them were exceedingly scarce, he inexplicably thought of a certain man with four eyes.

Why would that be?

That man who once betrayed his trust, with silver hair and golden eyes, utterly cold, named Faraday—how could he resemble the youth before him?

Perhaps because of that initial death‑crossing incident, David has continually felt these past few days of life are somewhat unreal, his train of thought drifting up and down, which is why Mann and others have also shown concern, suggesting he go out more to clear his mind—at least this world is far better than Night City.

It is indeed much better than Night City, but David still hasn't felt any improvement in his mental state.

He keeps thinking of the barrier named Adam's Hammer, as well as Rebecca's death, and all of that stems from his own misjudgment.

In his mind, Faraday's betrayal isn't really the main reason, because Night City isn't lacking people like Faraday; not being betrayed by Faraday, one could still be betrayed by a 'Faraday brother.'

That city isn't lacking people one can trust; the problem is trusting the wrong people.

The crux perhaps lies in one's gaze, or even earlier—already being blind oneself.