Chapter 30: The Form of the Chai-Si Artifact

As Chai Si scrambled onto the platform and rolled away just in time, the subway train hissed past his back, thundering into the station. The cold, metallic chill of the train’s body and the harsh, violent gust of wind it kicked up felt as if they were stripping a layer of flesh right off his back. Had he reached back to touch himself and found his skull partially shorn away, it would not have been a surprise.

Chai Si panted as he climbed to his feet. The train gradually came to a halt; in the reflection of the carriage windows, he remained a whole man.

...He had always been lucky.

The subway train departing from this station rumbled in right behind it, as if on cue, blocking the police on the opposite platform. Even if they wanted to follow Chai Si’s lead, they would have to take a long detour, wasting plenty of time.

Through the train, the shouting from the other side echoed, muffled and distorted within the station: "You lot, chase after him... go to the other end and block him! Check everyone leaving the station!"

Chai Si couldn't help but smile. He loosened his shoulders and neck, tilted his head back, and exhaled. For just one second, he allowed himself to indulge in the rush of adrenaline, his blood surging and his body burning with heat.

When he opened his eyes, all the subway doors were opening, and the arriving passengers were disembarking onto the platform.

"Hey!" A man who looked like a driver stepped out from the head of the train and shouted at Chai Si from afar: "Are you crazy? You almost got yourself killed—"

Before the man could get a clear look at his face, Chai Si turned nimbly and merged into the flow of passengers heading toward the exit. The driver muttered a few curses and turned to head back onto the train. The moment he did, Chai Si shoved the person beside him aside and, just before the carriage doors slid shut, lunged inside.

The entire subway carriage was empty.

Looking left and right, the carriages seemed to stretch on forever, an infinite repetition of circular handrails and plastic seats. Stripped of the single element of "people," the train had transformed into a narrow, repetitive, elongated alien space, strangely reminiscent of the interior of a tapeworm.

The subway began to move slowly, maintaining a low speed, likely preparing to pull onto a turnaround track. Chai Si stepped across the slightly swaying floor and walked toward the tail of the train, entering the last carriage.

Advertisements, handrails, poles, seats, graffiti, food wrappers, and discarded beverage bottles... it looked like an ordinary carriage. Places to hide things were neither many nor few.

...The part that required the most patience was about to begin.

It didn't matter.

Whether in the Warrens or the world of men, no matter what target one was chasing, a good hunter needed great patience; and Chai Si happened to be extremely patient.

"If I were a clever fool," he murmured to himself, "...where would I hide the Artifact?"

To guess the answer to this question, one first had to know what the Artifact he was tracking actually looked like.

The forms of Artifacts were myriad and boundless, existing beyond the limits of human imagination—but fortunately, he didn't need to hunt for a needle in a haystack. Any hunter of note in Blackmoor City had heard at least a little something about Weisilai’s Artifacts.

Moreover, Kaironan had been a hunter for decades, his network of connections in Blackmoor City deep and sprawling. Information regarding the Artifacts had inevitably crossed his path.

"I need you to retrieve the Artifacts from Weisilai’s study, even if it’s just one."

When the news of Weisilai’s death arrived, Kaironan had summoned Chai Si. The sky outside the window was the color of duck-egg blue, as if veiled in a faint mist. Chai Si later learned that when he sat down at the breakfast table, Weisilai had been dead for only three hours.

At that time, Madame Wei, left alone in Blackmoor City, was still asleep, unaware that she had become a widow.

And in another hour and twenty-one minutes, Iwen would leave the Wei estate with the Artifacts he had stolen.

"The first Artifact, he bought from me years ago. It was a black cube, ten centimeters on each side."

Kaironan’s tone was flat; it was hard to tell if he regretted the transaction now.

The Artifacts in Weisilai’s possession had laid the foundation for his global business empire. Looking at his later wealth and influence, it was almost strange that anyone had been willing to sell those four Artifacts to him in the first place—perhaps that was Weisilai’s unique brilliance: the ability to see a future in the same object that others could not.

If they had known their true value, no one would have sold the Artifacts to Weisilai.

"The second is a set of tailoring tools."

Kaironan paused and said, "I heard this set of tailoring tools is about the size of a laptop, though I’m not sure if that’s true. It is said to be the most precious and important of the four. If I could get my hands on it, I would sacrifice the entire family organization to trade for it."

In his spare time, Chai Si had once calculated the valuation of the Kai family organization.

A hunter organization was hard to define; it acted like a gang but operated like a modern corporation—a hybrid of the two. If judged by corporate standards, the Kai family organization was worth far more than tens of millions. To trade such an organization away—judging by Kaironan’s tone, it sounded like he would actually be getting a bargain.

"What does it do?" Chai Si asked.

"If you can get it, you will naturally know. Until then, the less you know, the better it is for you."

Chai Si nodded. "He had two others. What were they?"

Kaironan sighed and set down his coffee cup.

"The later the Artifacts came into his possession, the less complete my information became... He eventually sealed off many of the channels through which news leaked. It is said that the third one is extremely dangerous. Ever since he acquired it, any rival who stood in his way—someone who couldn't be removed by money, power, law, or market rules—would conveniently and reasonably disappear from the world. The oil merchant in Yemen was no exception."

Beyond "extremely dangerous," he provided no further details, but Chai Si had no objections.

He was the one who solved problems for the Kai family; incomplete information was part of the problem handed to him.

"And the fourth?"

Kaironan was silent for several seconds.

"About that one, I have only heard a rumor," he said in a low voice. "...It is a rumor that creates rumors."

Chai Si even forgot to chew, letting the egg rest on his tongue for a moment.

When he finally reacted and swallowed the egg, he verified, "Uncle Kai, are you saying the existence of the Artifact itself is a 'rumor,' its function is to 'create rumors'... and all of this is just a rumor you heard?"

Kaironan nodded and said, "Yes, it’s enough to make one think for a while, isn't it?"

Why would Weisilai want a rumor that creates rumors?

Besides, how does one find a rumor?

However, when it came to the Warrens and Artifacts, one could not simply assume that something didn't exist just because it was bizarre.

If the object of his search was a "rumor," and it was invisible and intangible, then surely it must at least have a sound?

Since a hunter had once been able to bring it into the human world, there was no reason why Chai Si couldn't find it.

Standing on the subway, he listened intently, gradually categorizing the ambient noises in his mind: the screech of the tracks, the hum of the air vents, the mechanical rattling of the train parts... None of them came close to the sound of a human voice.

Since there were no whispered conversations like those of a haunting, did that mean the fourth Artifact wasn't here?

He hadn't expected to find it right away...

Chai Si sighed, blaming his height for the first time.

Like a giant spider trying to curl its legs, he awkwardly crouched down to the floor, peering beneath the seats. He took in the entire row of flooring: forgotten shopping bags, an earphone, fire-suppression equipment, stains... even a single shoe. He wondered if the owner had stepped off with one foot bare.

It sounded like a lot of things, but in reality, most of the space under the seats was empty. One look was enough to see that nothing could be called an Artifact—but even if it were a piece of chewing gum, Chai Si couldn't let it slide.

Chai Si pulled a short, dark baton from his waist and "clicked" it open, extending it into a heavy, arm-length staff with a T-shaped cast-iron head and a threaded grip.

Blackmoor state law prohibited citizens from carrying firearms in public, so carrying a gun sometimes brought unnecessary trouble—he hadn't expected this handy, portable weapon he always carried to find another use today.

Though he was patient, as he used his beloved weapon to poke through the various trash under the seats, flicking away the smelly shoe and prodding the chewing gum, then straightening up to scan the advertisements on the walls, he couldn't help but feel that this job should have been assigned to a low-level recruit in the organization.

But another person might not have been as swift or meticulous; in less than a few minutes, he had finished searching the carriage.

Chai Si stopped and looked out the subway window.

The train hadn't returned to the departure platform as he expected; instead, it slowed down and finally came to a complete stop.

The tunnel outside was dim, the sallow yellow light barely illuminating a stretch of open ground—beneath the cavernous dome, several tracks ran parallel and intersected, looking like a condensed aerial view of an overpass.

This was clearly not a place for passengers... Where had the subway taken him?

As Chai Si began to check the next carriage, he heard footsteps approaching from the other side.

The person was walking along, keys jingling, humming vaguely. He seemed to know no other song, repeating the same line over and over: "Baby, please don't go."

Chai Si straightened up, holding the T-shaped staff in one hand, standing quietly in the center of the carriage, waiting.

A man in a subway employee uniform walked in and froze—it was the same driver who had cursed at him earlier.

"When did you get on?" The driver’s face went rigid, barely masking his confusion and underlying fear. "What are you doing here? This train is being taken out of service. You need to get off immediately."

Taking a train out of service meant it wouldn't be carrying passengers for a while.

At his current pace, he could finish searching the entire train in forty minutes... Not returning to passenger service was actually more convenient for Chai Si. However, to stay on the train, it would be best to have the cooperation of the man in front of him.

Chai Si had the T-shaped staff, and he had a wallet filled with cash—in an age of electronic and credit card payments, carrying cash was usually for one purpose only.

Just as he was considering which method to use to get the driver to cooperate, the driver looked at his face, then at the T-shaped staff, and suddenly frowned, a fear he couldn't suppress beginning to show.

"You... you aren't..." He stammered, stumbling back two steps. "I have a family, children... please..."

Who does he think I am?

Chai Si was taken aback. He was always careful; outside the hunter circles, almost no one knew who he was. How had he gained such a reputation after only driving through a few streets?

Wait... "Reputation"?

A jolt of electricity surged through Chai Si’s brain, like lightning illuminating thick clouds. Though not entirely clear, he grasped the most important thought.

The next moment, the driver muttered, "You... you really are the subway serial killer from the rumors?"

Chai Si slowly licked his lips.

...He had found the Artifact.