Chapter 956: Reminder (Final Two Days—Request Monthly Votes)

Because Franca and Rosan had already ordered the chicken and taro and requested immediate preparation, the three of them soon enjoyed steaming-hot meals.

Franca asked the server to add a medium-spicy broth to the dipping bowl, then added minced garlic, chopped scallions, and cilantro, finally pouring in oyster sauce—this blend offered saltiness and umami with a hint of sweetness, perfectly enhancing the spicy flavor; Franca particularly loved this combination when eating hot pot.

She glanced at Zhou Mingrui and noticed his choice was nearly identical to hers.

Great minds think alike… Franca first picked up taro rather than chicken; it had been pre-cooked to tenderness in the pressure cooker, rolled in the dipping sauce, blown on for ten seconds, then bitten into—its starchy aroma and natural taro flavor filled her mouth, having absorbed the spicy broth and rich oils, complemented by the oyster sauce’s saltiness and subtle sweetness, triggering rapid salivation and effectively dulling the lingering heat.

Franca ate three pieces of taro before remembering to take a piece of chicken.

She would rank it among the top three vegetarian options in hot pot, the other two being potato slices and leafy lettuce.

The three ate in silence for a while, filling their stomachs, after which Rosan spontaneously initiated various topics to prevent awkwardness.

With her enlivening the atmosphere, the three chatted cheerfully—from company rumors and gossip to the current job market and the latest status of former colleagues.

The handsome security guard naturally became part of the conversation; Rosan regretted he hadn’t been guarding the main entrance lately, depriving her of the chance to see him in person.

Suddenly, Zhou Mingrui asked Franca about her professional background, curious why she switched careers right after graduation.

Franca shared her true feelings during school:

“Worked like a beast, earned little, faced life-threatening risks, had to grind until thirty or forty just to scrape by with a decent income—I couldn’t endure that suffering, so I switched careers. How many twenties does a person get?”

Zhou Mingrui understood:

“Online, everyone says advising someone to study medicine invites thunderbolts, but medicine is a late-blooming career—the older you are, the more valued you become. I had a childhood friend who also switched right after graduation, tried two other jobs, but didn’t get anywhere…”

Here, Zhou Mingrui paused abruptly, frowning unconsciously, then continued:

“Eventually, he used connections to return to his hometown hospital as an intern doctor.”

He had a friend like that? The records didn’t mention it… Clearly not Peng Deng, nor the female friend who loved traveling… As Franca puzzled, Zhou Mingrui began discussing medical topics.

Franca perfectly played the role of a former medical student turned career-changer three years ago—she could still explain basic concepts, but deeper knowledge had mostly faded.

She wasn’t a “Generalist”!

—This identity was almost a direct replication of her true state; playing it came naturally, the only difference being she had never graduated and had switched careers six or seven years ago.

As Zhou Mingrui gave a barely perceptible nod, Rosan glanced at Franca and smiled:

“Have you tried that new drink? The one with great design and a unique name?”

Franca returned the smile, answering with a question:

“Have you tried it?”

Before Zhou Mingrui or Rosan could answer, Franca lowered her voice:

“I recently heard a urban legend: a mysterious vending machine appears randomly in different places, selling blind-box drinks. Some of these drinks grant special effects—those who drink them gain abilities matching the drink’s name. But drinks bought in supermarkets or convenience stores are ordinary, normal ones.”

Having finished speaking without any abnormality manifesting, Franca subtly relaxed.

Zhou Mingrui looked at Franca—now home, changed into a white T-shirt, loose pants, white sneakers, her hair tied in a ponytail—and smiled:

“I’ve seen rumors about this online too.”

Franca’s gaze settled on Rosan’s face.

Rosan bit her lip and spoke in a deliberately spooky tone:

“Actually, I’ve encountered that mysterious vending machine.”

Instantly, Zhou Mingrui turned to look at her.

Rosan laughed:

“I bought a blind box—the drink inside was ‘Shaman.’ But after drinking it, nothing happened. I gained no ability.”

“Honestly, when I went back to find the vending machine a second time, it was gone—no longer where it had been…”

Rosan’s voice dropped to an unnaturally low pitch, making the bubbling broth in the pot seem to freeze for a second.

Zhou Mingrui watched her, silent, evaluating whether this was a ghost story or truth.

Rosan immediately grinned at him:

“Didn’t you drink one too? Later, I saw a similar vending machine in the company lobby, pulled a bunch, and gave you one—a bottle of ‘Seducer’ drink, right?”

“I didn’t drink it,” Zhou Mingrui laughed. “Someone gave me a pack of dried mushrooms, saying they were perfect for steeping in drinks or tea. I thought I’d try it, so I poured the ‘Seducer’ drink into my cup and soaked the mushrooms in it. Then I went off to do something else. When I returned to my desk, the cup was empty.”

“At the time, I thought no one in the office was that disgusting—wouldn’t dare drink from someone else’s cup. Maybe the cleaner saw the mushrooms swollen and gross-looking, assumed the water was discarded, and just tossed it for me.”

“Now I think about it, that’s a bit strange.”

His and Rosan’s coordinated storytelling made the urban legend feel increasingly real.

Franca showed no sign of fear. She glanced around, then lowered her voice:

“Since you’re both so honest, I’ll tell the truth too: I’ve encountered that vending machine.”

Rosan played along, asking:

“What did you get?”

Franca looked at Zhou Mingrui, adjusted her black-rimmed glasses, and smiled clearly:

“‘Assassin.’”

Zhou Mingrui watched her quietly, waiting for her to continue.

Franca added with a grin:

“I’m a fan of Assassin’s Creed. Look—my WeChat name is ‘True Sleeve Blade.’”

As she spoke, she pulled out her phone and showed Zhou Mingrui her WeChat name, then continued:

“I was thrilled with the drink’s name—imagined myself becoming an Assassin, capable of a ‘Leap of Faith,’ hiding in shadows, unseen…”

Franca deliberately described every change and ability the “Assassin” potion supposedly granted, aiming to convince Zhou Mingrui she had truly consumed the “Assassin” drink or knew intimately about it.

As she spoke, her heart accelerated involuntarily; she grew tense, feeling as if she were about to be kicked out of the dream.

Zhou Mingrui tactically sipped iced soy milk and ate a piece of taro.

After putting down his chopsticks, he smiled at Franca and Rosan:

“That’s also my dream.”

Franca seized the moment to warn:

“Then be careful—I’ve seen a rumor mentioning that the ‘Assassin’ drink’s subsequent versions have serious problems. Like leveling up in a game, once you drink to a certain level, something terrible happens.”

“What kind of terrible thing?” Rosan asked curiously.

Franca shook her head:

“I don’t know.”

“I only heard that after ‘Assassin’ comes ‘Seducer,’ and the real problem lies after ‘Seducer’…”

Her voice grew quieter still.

Zhou Mingrui ended the topic:

“Alright, alright. If we keep making this up, it’ll become a full-blown urban legend.”

“Yeah,” Franca smiled, indicating all she’d said was improvised on the spot.

Rosan did the same.

The three shifted to other topics, chatting until night fell completely, each thoroughly satisfied.

After bidding farewell to Rosan and Franca, Zhou Mingrui walked toward the other end of the street.

His smile gradually faded; thoughts surfaced one after another in his mind:

“They don’t seem to be testing me—they’re hinting, suggesting, reminding me…”

“Does the ‘Assassin’ drink really have serious issues afterward?”

“Or perhaps because I deliberately chose a crowded, lively setting, they couldn’t find an opportunity to use their abilities to influence me…”

“I’ll observe for a while—see if any accidents or attacks occur…”

“If I can confirm their intent or goodwill, I might find a chance to truly talk later…”

“If avoidance won’t solve the problem, then face it…”

Amid swirling thoughts, Zhou Mingrui turned down a side alley and stepped into shadow.

On the other side, Franca led Rosan toward the nearest mall.

For the next hour, she wanted to stay in a place crowded and brightly lit.

Just outside the “Yizhou Roasted Chicken” restaurant, after walking a dozen steps along the roadside, Franca suddenly felt dizzy.

The next instant, she felt like a deep-sea fish hauled from the ocean—gasping desperately, unable to draw even a breath of air, while her head and body swelled strangely, like a fragile balloon being inflated relentlessly.

She clawed at her neck, trying to tear out her trachea from flesh and directly connect it to air.

Her legs weakened; her body collapsed toward the ground, her thoughts stuttered, her mirror doppelgänger severed its connection to her.

Has the Almighty noticed me? Franca flashed this thought.

Inside the gray sedan parked across the street, Lu Mi watched silently as Franca’s face flushed crimson, her lips turned blue-black, her slender neck clawed raw with bloody scratches.

Rosan stood beside her, bewildered and helpless.

In the front passenger seat, Lu Mi remained motionless, still watching.

He saw Franca half-collapsed, saw her struggle to open her handbag, painfully retrieve her phone, and unlock the screen.

On the screen was a pre-prepared interface; alongside the phone lay cosmetics, a multi-faced mirror, and a small black bag.

In Lu Mi’s vision, Franca’s eyes bulged, her expression twisted in agony as her thumb tapped the phone screen.

Then she collapsed fully, dropping her handbag to the ground.

Items spilled out—except the small black bag, which vanished mysteriously.

Seconds later, Lu Mi in the sedan watched Franca slowly rise, her eyes vacant, and calmly said to himself and Anthony:

“Contacting Zhou Mingrui at night to hint at the existence of supernatural powers causes one to be expelled from the dream soon after.”

ps: Last two days—please vote for monthly tickets~

ps2: Recommend a book, “The Night Before Ascension,” the new novel by the author of “Embers of the Gun”—sci-fi leaning, cyberpunk.

Introduction: Assassin avatar, Feather Transformation technique, Shepherd Project, Immortality Scheme... Are these blessings—or traps?

This city always tempts you with a thread of hope, whether it be a dream woven from lies or a utopia built from illusions—both are within reach, within grasp, luring you to fly into the flame, forsaking life and death.

Now, the great turning point in human history has arrived; the dawn of the people's elevation is just appearing.

(End of Chapter)