Chapter 54

Chapter 54

As Su Ximu ran closer, he bumped right into his brothers who were just about to jump off the vehicle.

His third brother, though much taller than him at home, still needed the eldest brother's help to get down from the very tall vehicle.

The eldest brother usually kept silent and rarely reacted to anyone.

But Su Ximu always confidently believed that sometimes when he spoke, the eldest brother was listening.

The little one, clutching his small bundle and with a flushed face, hugged his brother who had just dismounted. He looked up, his voice still carrying a youthful brightness rarely found in the wasteland world: "Brothers, where are you going? I'm coming with you."

"We're a family~"

Family means never being separated, no matter where they go.

242 hugged him back, letting out a soft grunt. He seemed to understand.

243 also happily took his younger brother's hand and swung it playfully.

He didn't know where they were going either.

But he wanted to be with his younger brother.

So, the brothers who had just gotten off the vehicle began grunting and struggling to climb back on.

Getting off was easy, but getting back on was hard. Facing the large truck, a steel behemoth, even 242 found it difficult to climb up by himself.

When they had boarded earlier, a ladder had extended from the vehicle. But now, with the vehicle's engine off, the ladder was naturally absent.

Finally, Su Ximu raised his hand to the eldest brother: "Big brother, lift me up."

Whether 241 understood or not was unclear, but he certainly recognized the gesture. He reached out, one hand supporting the little one's head and the other under his bottom, and lifted him onto the vehicle.

Once the little one was on board, he didn't forget to assign more tasks to the eldest brother: "Big brother, lift brother and little brother up too~"

241 looked down, and two seconds later, he grabbed each by an arm and hoisted them up.

From this, it seemed the researchers' earlier assessments had some basis.

By the time the driver returned with the others, he saw the three brothers still sitting silently, heads bowed, in the corner of the truck's cargo bay.

After shooing the two other adults, who could climb onto the vehicle themselves, into the back, the driver didn't even bother warning them not to escape. He simply returned to his cabin and started the engine.

Inside the cargo bay, Su Ximu, hidden in the small corner formed by his brothers, cautiously peeked out.

The two other people sitting not far away had blank, vacant stares. Even though they saw the little one who had suddenly appeared, they reacted just like 241, 242, and 243 had six months earlier—as if he were invisible, showing no other response.

The vehicle wasn't moving fast. Peeking out from the corner, Su Ximu watched the scenery receding outside the cargo door and suddenly found it very familiar.

He whispered to his brothers, "Brothers, I think I know where the vehicle is going."

This was the road to the Wall.

He had been this way several times before.

After saying this, the little boy seemed quite happy.

Because children's thoughts are simple.

He believed that even if he hadn't seen his brothers today and they had been taken away directly, he wouldn't have lost them forever.

The vehicle drove on for a while longer until a gate, which looked imposing at first glance but somewhat decayed upon closer inspection, appeared at the end of the road.

Previously, whenever Su Ximu went to the Wall, he had always passed directly through it. This was the first time he had seen the Wall's gate.

The vehicle passed through the gate without hindrance and drove for about another half hour.

This rather bumpy journey finally reached its destination.

The destination had a simple entrance, with words written in the wasteland script: "104 Education Field."

Entering the 104 Education Field, the vast expanse of corrugated iron shacks made it almost seem as if the vehicle had driven in a circle and returned to the outskirts of District 13.

However, upon closer inspection, the iron shacks here were somewhat different.

The most obvious difference was that this place was much livelier than the outer residential areas.

The residents of the outer areas usually didn't go out unless necessary.

Here, however, every single resident was forcibly called out of their homes.

A large area was laid out in a square. At each of the four corners of the square, an area was fenced off with iron railings.

In each enclosed area, at least ten people were fighting. There were no rules, no restrictions—only those who stood and continued to fight and those who had already fallen.

Nearby, administrators in white uniforms observed, occasionally taking notes.

The scene was exactly like a gladiatorial arena.

Ironically, right next to the arena stood a building resembling a school.

The students, having just finished their classes, were being hurried by their teachers into the arena.

The driver parked the vehicle in the southeast corner, got out of the cabin, and soon an administrator from the Education Field approached.

By this time, Su Ximu had cleverly shouldered his small bundle, ignored the metal partition between the cargo bay and the driver's cabin, climbed from the cargo bay directly into the cabin, and, like the driver, prepared to get out from there.

The driver's cabin was a blind spot. The little one carefully felt for the first step of the ladder with his foot, made sure both feet were firmly planted on it, and then tried the second step.

At the rear of the vehicle, the 104 Education Field administrators received the five new residents from the outer district.

One administrator, holding a folder, checked the information against his documents and nodded at the three brothers who had already dismounted.

"Their conversion rates are high. They can skip the initial gladiatorial stage and be sent directly for cognitive development."

As for the other two, whose conversion rates weren't as high, they would follow the normal process.

The driver didn't care about any of this. He handed a delivery form to the administrator for a signature.

Once the administrator signed it, the driver got back into his vehicle and drove off.

The administrator, slightly choked by the dust kicked up by the departing vehicle, squinted at the retreating truck and spat in disgust.

In a bad mood, he didn't bother saying much else and led the newly received group toward the center of the area.

After walking for about twenty minutes, the administrator pointed to an empty iron shack, signaling 241 and his brothers to enter.

Once the three were inside, he led the other two to the next empty room.

Yet he completely failed to notice that a little shadow had been following him the entire time.

Su Ximu, holding his small bundle, hid in a corner for another ten minutes before quietly slipping into their new home.

The moment he stepped inside, he was hugged tightly by his brother and little brother. The eldest brother also glanced in his direction.

243 struggled to express himself: "So, so worried! So sc-scared!"

He was worried whether his tiny brother could keep up on his own.

And he was afraid that his brother might be discovered and taken away.

But no matter how anxious he felt, he didn't dare make a move.

It seemed he had intuitively understood the saying, "Acting impulsively can ruin things."

As for Su Ximu himself, he didn't feel scared at all. He thought his actions were perfect.

As seen from his ability to run to unfamiliar places to find medicine for his brothers, when it came to things he wanted to do, his courage could be truly immense.

He hugged his brother and little brother in return, comforting them: "Don't be scared~"

After saying that, the little one even gave himself a thumbs-up, praising: "Star Baby, so awesome! So cool!"

Grandma used to praise him like this.

Seeing this, 243 looked down at his own fingers and also gave a thumbs-up.

242 bent down and used his hands to smooth the little one's messy hair, tousled from his movements.

Feeling his brother gently patting his head, Su Ximu found it quite comforting. He couldn't help but put down his bundle, pull his brother down to sit on the floor, and rest his head on his brother's lap.

He made a request: "Brother, I want a back pat."

He also wanted his ears checked and finally to sleep while being held.

Leaving his real family at such a young age had its downsides—perhaps the little one suffered from a bit of touch starvation.

If he didn't get the hugs and pats he wanted, he'd get a little depressed.

As for "checking ears," what the little one actually meant was cleaning his ears.

He always remembered a scene from spring when Grandma would take him outside to sunbathe on a small bamboo bed. She would let him lie there and clean his ears.

Cleaning ears felt so comfortable, the sun felt warm and cozy, and Grandma's scent was soothing.

There was no ear pick here, but 242 already knew how to "check ears" properly.

His movements were like an ape grooming its young, his hands gently combing through the little one's ears, hair, and neck, making the weary little one, who had been anxious all day, grow sleepy.

But he fought off sleep.

Because he felt insecure in this new environment.

He now vaguely understood that he shouldn't let those who seemed "normal" discover him.

In this world, those who appeared normal were actually the most abnormal. They would capture people and cut them up for meat!

So, he had already thought about where he would sleep at night.

He needed to sleep somewhere safe, where nobody would find him.

Like inside the walls.

He could sleep with half his body inside the wall and half outside, while his brother hugged him facing the wall.

That way, even if someone suddenly came in, they wouldn't notice him.

Thinking this, the little one yawned, fighting sleep as he began crawling toward a corner.

While crawling, he suddenly felt like he bumped into something. It seemed to be a book.

This was the first time he had encountered a book in this world.

Instantly, his drowsiness vanished. He sat down right where he was and, by the faint remaining light, opened the book and started looking at it.

The written language of the wasteland world was different from that of Blue Star.

But even if it were the language of his own world, Su Ximu, as a child who hadn't even received elementary education, wouldn't recognize many words.

Fortunately, the book had illustrations he could look at.

Su Ximu laid the book open on his lap and carefully examined the illustrations.

The first page had four illustrations total.

The content was simple, and even without understanding the words, he got the gist at a glance.

The first illustration showed a person in a white robe and a monster wreathed in gray mist.

The second illustration showed researcher-like and administrator-like people standing behind the white-robed figure.

The third illustration depicted the monster charging forward, with the white-robed person protecting those behind him, bravely confronting the monster.

The fourth illustration showed the white-robed person lying dead on the ground, but with a perfectly proper smile on their face.

After reading the book, Su Ximu became thoughtful. The white-robed person was someone like his brothers.

The meaning of the illustrations was that his brothers were supposed to protect the researcher-like and administrator-like people... and even if they died, they should be glad about it.

Thinking of this, the little one closed the book and gave it a hard slap.

Bad book!

This world not only had bad people but also bad books!

The bad book taught his brothers to protect the bad people who hurt them! To be happy even if they died!

That’s wrong. Only by protecting those who are good to you and whom you love would dying bring happiness.

But if you can avoid dying, it’s always best not to die.

Bad book!

The more he thought, the angrier he grew, and the little one slapped the book again.

Not only did he hit it himself, but he also picked up the book and made his eldest brother, brother, and little brother each take a turn hitting the book.

It was like effectively carrying out a group punishment of the bad book.

Author's Note:

Administrator: Blah blah blah brainwashing...

Brothers: Remembering that group beating night...