Chapter 29: Journey to III
Dozens of kilometers away from the Grews Parking Garage ruins lies Yongnian Town, surrounded by a palm forest, wherein stands a ten-plus story silver-white building.
A tall man, cloaked in grey-white gauze and only revealing a pair of brown eyes, strides towards the building. Ignoring the slight bows from security and staff as he passes through the lobby, he heads straight to the elevator and presses the button for the ninth floor.
As the elevator doors close, two employees who almost stepped in retreat at the sight of the man in white gauze, letting the doors shut before them. Accustomed to such reactions, the man watches the floor indicator silently until reaching the ninth floor.
The doors open to a spacious lounge area. On the right side of the wall hangs an elegantly designed logo of “Ashi Real Estate”, set against a backdrop of grey-black marble with blue-black metallic lines. The lounge is filled with entertainment options like wine cabinets, pool tables, and video game consoles.
Standing in front of a curved floor-to-ceiling window is a stooped, white-haired old man, seemingly lost in thought as he gazes out at the sea. The vast room, despite being laden with objects, feels devoid of life apart from him.
The man in white gauze exits the elevator, stepping on the grey carpet, and approaches the old man from behind. “Someone is investigating the Grews Garage,” he says, his voice oddly perfect, lacking any personal distinction.
“The South has already informed me,” the old man turns around, revealing a face full of wrinkles, barely visible beard, and skin like tortoise shell, marked further with wrinkles. His small, round eyes, however, are full of life.
“A newly established company headed by a White Star citizen is behind it. We can’t find any background information,” responds the man in white gauze.
“I had hoped they would back off once they realized the difficulty, understanding boundaries,” the old man sighs. “Unfortunately, they seem not to care.”
“If pain is what they understand, then let it be. The South’s methods are too mild for them. Let me handle this,” suggests the white-gauze man.
“The South’s approach works against those of ordinary background, but this case is different,” the old man nods. “Go ahead, but keep it clean. We’ve only just managed to suppress past events; they cannot resurface.”
“Rest assured, in these borderlands, dozens disappear annually. With so much smuggling and armed activity, bad luck means vanishing without a trace,” says the white-gauze man, removing his gauze to reveal a face marred by burn scars and a metallic silver jaw.
—
In the center of a yellow sand field surrounded by coconut palm clusters stand two yellow vehicles resembling excavators at work.
Workers wearing yellow hats, holding long pipes resembling conduits, stand around. Each is marked with the simple characters of “Hong Jin” on their jackets.
As the buzzing of approaching vehicles grows louder, a large and a smaller vehicle slow down, parking alongside the sand field. Alighting from the black vehicle are two men, one robust and towering, the other well-proportioned and young – Song Ran and Li Chengyi, having just arrived.
From the yellow cargo vehicle, three individuals in yellow hats who had previously communicated with them also disembark.
Li Chengyi’s gaze immediately settles on the five-meter wide and long black pit in the center of the sand field, its edges reinforced with special metal, its center a pitch black hole that’s been dug unknown depths.
“The excavation team has been here for two days. We’ve hit the exterior wall of the garage and need expert guidance to continue,” explains the company responsible, a middle-aged man with a mustache, weathered skin, and a rugged appearance. “I’m Huang Zhisheng, in charge of all excavation work here,” he says, shaking hands with Song Ran and Li Chengyi.
“Is Expert Ding Chongyi here yet? Has he offered any advice?” Song Ran asks.
“She’s still below, checking the soil types at the bottom,” says Huang Zhisheng, gesturing towards the pit. “Then let’s wait,” suggests Song Ran.
Li Chengyi, believing in professional judgment staying aside, decides to investigate the mysterious boy and test the methodology for absorbing malice.
After checking his messages, none of which were from Sindra, he finds no updates on the boy’s identity they had previously sketched.
Putting away his phone, Li Chengyi takes out AR glasses and approaches the pit. “The Grews Parking Garage was buried here over eighty years ago during the Reiz Earthquake,” a yellow-hatted worker explains.
“The garage spans five underground levels, designed to hold over six hundred small vehicles. Built by the old Ashi Engineering. However, it was deemed unfit for use not long after completion due to various infrastructural issues,” the worker explains in a low tone.
“Unfit? Never operated?” Li Chengyi raises an eyebrow. “How could there be casualties?”
“This ties back to the era’s uniqueness,” says the yellow hat, revealing a young woman’s face beneath, with bright blue eyes and a friendly smile despite her tanned skin.
“Over eighty years ago, during a border conflict and domestic unrest exacerbated by White Star oppression, rebels considered taking control of small towns near the borders and establishing ports. During an uprising, as arson and looting spread, many sought refuge within the sturdy and secluded Grews Garage.”
“And then the earthquake happened?” Li Chengyi surmises.
“Correct. Many perished. Though some escaped, more were trapped and likely died there,” confirms the yellow hat.
Li Chengyi sighs, looking into the pit now equipped with AR glasses to explore its depths. Suddenly, a pale hand appears at the rim, startling him. Removing the glasses, the hand disappears, leaving him perplexed at the sight’s absence.
“An illusion?” he wonders before fully diving into the investigation with his AR glasses, revealing nothing but the expected deep darkness and traces of the complex below.
