Genius Playground

Having worked together for so long, Jiang Ran and Chi Xiaoguo had excellent teamwork.

They hardly needed to exchange a single word. Each knew their role, and they quickly moved the Positron Cannon out, set it in position, aimed it, and got the phone ready to make the call...

”Let’s start!”

Jiang Ran stood by the transformer box and gestured to Chi Xiaoguo inside the clubroom.

”OK! I’m starting the countdown!”

Chi Xiaoguo took a deep breath.

”5! 4! 3! 2! 1! 0—”

HUMMM!

HUMMM!

HUMMM!

Through their practiced operation, Jiang Ran once again grew dizzy and disoriented as he traveled through the temporal vortex to the year 2045...

”Fang Yang.”

Sitting in the passenger seat, Jiang Ran said the Assassin’s real name.

”Now that the jailbreak is a success, it’s time you made good on your promise. I have some questions to ask.”

After opening his eyes in the cell this time, Jiang Ran once again followed the familiar route in a super speedrun, leading the group in another successful jailbreak and driving the transport van off into the distance.

THUNK.

He slapped the digital clock onto the dashboard. It read 11:56 AM.

For the next four minutes, the Assassin would answer all of his questions without reservation.

”The leader of the Regrets Mutual Aid Association is the old man you call the Priest. What exactly is his objective?”

Jiang Ran continued, puzzled.

”From your earlier description and my own understanding, he sounds like a man of high status, immense power, and great wealth.”

”So why, in that case, would he hire contract killers—or rather, use erasing regrets as a bargaining chip to cultivate a group of death-sworn followers who kill for him? What is he trying to achieve?”

”That’s something we truly don’t know.”

The Assassin stared straight ahead, speaking frankly.

”It’s not that I’m deliberately hiding it from you. We joined the Regrets Mutual Aid Association for the simple purpose of making up for our life’s regrets. Our relationship with the Priest is less like an employer and his hitmen, and more like a religious leader and his disciples.”

”To be honest, we don’t really care what the Priest’s objective is. He can genuinely grant our wishes and help us resolve our regrets, and he’s always been a man of his word.”

”So... for us, a Priest like that is more than enough. He’s earned our respect, and he’s earned our loyalty.”

After a pause, the Assassin continued.

”We’re well aware that what we do is wrong, both legally and morally.”

”But... it’s the only way to earn the Priest’s favor and have him resolve our regrets.”

Jiang Ran watched the Assassin, saying nothing.

’This group of people, whether it was Old Tian or this Assassin, knew full well they were doing wrong, that they were committing crimes...’

’But faced with the temptation of their wishes, driven by their regrets, desire and obsession had long since overshadowed any reverence for the law or for human decency.’

”I don’t know what to say about your actions.”

Jiang Ran shook his head.

”You willingly become someone else’s lapdogs, even gladly going to prison or giving up your lives for it. And you do it all to pursue your own selfish interests and resolve your own regrets, all at the expense of others’ happiness.”

”Isn’t that... shameful? Your regrets are resolved, but what about the people you’ve killed? Their families are now burdened with new regrets.”

”The people you killed had parents and children, too. So who is going to resolve their families’ regrets? Or are they supposed to follow you down this path of no return, and continue killing for the Priest and the Regrets Mutual Aid Association?”

...

The Assassin fell silent at Jiang Ran’s words.

But there was no sign of remorse on his face, only the same calm and collected acceptance he’d shown at their first meeting—the attitude of a gambler who accepts his losses.

”I can’t answer that question for you.”

The Assassin glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard.

”That’s just human nature, Jiang Ran. A hundred years ago, during the great famine, many people only survived by eating tree bark.”

”If you finally managed to find a piece of tree bark, would you share it with the others who were also about to starve to death, or... would you save it for your own family, your own child?”

”Or let’s make the scenario a bit darker. Your children and your parents are about to starve to death. So are someone else’s. Would you give the piece of bark in your hand to them?”

”That’s sophistry,” Jiang Ran said softly.

”These are two completely different things. You’re not fighting over tree bark; you’re killing people.”

”Even if fighting for bark and firing a gun have the same result—someone else’s death—the nature and intent are completely different. It can’t be used as an excuse for murder.”

Heh.

The Assassin offered a resigned smile.

”So, did you go to all this trouble to break me out just to lecture me?”

”I’ve never tried to make excuses for my actions. I accept any and all punishment.”

”The world isn’t black and white, and not every question has an answer. All the rules and conventions of daily life were made by people, not handed down from on high. How can there be any absolute right or wrong?”

”But if you insist on discussing this... fine. I’ll humor you a little longer.”

”Jiang Ran, is there anyone you’re so determined to save that you’d be willing to risk it all—even if it meant dragging the entire world down with you, or sacrificing all of humanity?”

Jiang Ran said nothing.

’He had a gut feeling he would never do something like that. It didn’t align with his values.’

’But...’

’All this time, he had been struggling to save Cheng Mengxue, to return to World Line 0.’

’Didn’t that amount to dooming the entire timeline of World Line 1, sacrificing all of its history and everything that had happened within it?’

’So, he couldn’t answer. Nor could he offer up a self-righteous denial.’

”No one like that?”

The Assassin saw Jiang Ran’s silence and chuckled softly.

”It’s perfectly normal if you don’t. But just because you wouldn’t do it doesn’t mean someone else wouldn’t.”

”Maybe, at some point, you’ll meet someone like that, too—”

”Someone who, for your sake, is willing to risk it all, to ignore all criticism and blame, to sacrifice the entire world... just to save you!”

’Pink.’

’Huh?’

Jiang Ran’s eyes flew wide open.

’What’s happening?’

’What is happening!’

’Just now, why did the graceful figure of that pink-haired girl—and her resentful gaze—inexplicably surface in his mind?’

’What was that about...’

’Why, the moment he heard the Assassin’s words, did he think of Nan Xiuxiu?’

’Ridiculous.’

Jiang Ran almost laughed at his own uncontrollable thoughts.

’He hadn’t meant to think of her at all.’

’And he’d never believed Nan Xiuxiu was that kind of person.’

’Then why.’

’Why had his brain glitched, inexplicably calling her to mind?’

”That would be foolish.”

Jiang Ran pressed his right palm to his forehead and said softly,

”If I were fourteen or fifteen, in middle school, I might have thought that sort of thing was cool.”

”But now, if someone said they were willing to sacrifice the entire world to save me...”

”I’d have to pass.”

He looked up at the digital clock.

’Time was running out.’

’There was one more crucial question to ask.’

”Assassin.”

Jiang Ran picked up a notepad and a ballpoint pen from the center console and began to draw.

”You told me before that after you killed Zhou Xiong, you picked up his phone and a gold coin engraved with a pattern.”

”You said the front of the coin had an embossed image of a princess lifting the hem of her skirt, with the English word for ’princess’ written below it. On the back was a line drawing of a Ferris wheel... Now, take a look. Did the Ferris wheel pattern look like this?”

Jiang Ran held up the finished drawing on the notepad, pushing it in front of the Assassin—

He had drawn the exact pattern from the burnt courtyard wall at Qin Feng’s house.

Eight differently colored Ferris wheel cars were spaced evenly around the outer ring. In the center, a giant black eye spanned the interior of the ring, staring out at the world.

When the Assassin had described the Princess Coin to him earlier, he had wondered if the Ferris wheel on the back might be this very pattern. So now, he was using the final moments of his trip to the future to confirm it.

The Assassin glanced over.

He stared at the Ferris wheel pattern for a full five seconds, his eyes filled with shock.

”This is it...”

His voice was laced with confusion.

”It’s identical to what you drew... Where... where did you see this?”

”What is this thing?”

Jiang Ran pressed.

”What is this pattern? What does it represent?”

”I don’t know.”

The Assassin shook his head.

”I really don’t. But... I did once see a similar gold coin in the Priest’s possession. He was always fiddling with it in his hand.”

Jiang Ran froze.

”Another gold coin? What did that one look like?”

”It was barely any different from the Princess Coin. Almost identical.”

The Assassin recalled.

”The back of that coin also had the same Ferris wheel emblem you drew. On the front was an embossed image of a bearded king, with the English word for ’king’ written below—”

”KING.”

HUMMM!

HUMMM!

HUMMM!

12:00 PM. Time was up.

As the world spun and his head swam, Jiang Ran was kicked back to the year 2025 by the world line.

Two seconds later, he opened his eyes.

’King.’

’Was this another codename?’

’If every codename corresponded to a gold coin, then...’

”Magician.”

Jiang Ran softly murmured Qin Feng’s codename from 2045.

He was puzzled.

’At what point, and at what age, had Qin Feng become the Magician?’

’On World Line 0, he and Qin Feng had been inseparable, yet he’d never seen Qin Feng with any such coin.’

’Could it be...’

Jiang Ran’s brow furrowed as a dangerous possibility occurred to him—

’Could it be... that Qin Feng only managed to get the coin and become the Magician in World Line 1? Was that the true purpose of the Time SMS he sent in the first place?’

”Jiang Ran?”

Suddenly, a voice called out from behind him!

Jiang Ran spun around to find a familiar girl standing behind him, wearing pajamas with a coat thrown over them.

The moon emerged from behind the clouds, bathing the ground in its pale light.

It was nearly eleven o’clock, and the campus was deserted. The rustling of willow branches in the wind sounded almost deafening in the silence.

Cheng Mengxue adjusted the collar of her coat. Her eyes took in the scene: Jiang Ran standing by the transformer box with his phone, the brightly lit Film Club room, the mysterious apparatus on the lab bench, and Chi Xiaoguo, who was frozen stiff like someone caught red-handed.

She blinked, puzzled, and tilted her head.

”What... are you two doing?”