Chapter 61: The Eccentric Genius and the Reckless Outlaw

Sean was wearing an old, ill-fitting black leather jacket with his hands shoved into his pockets. On his feet were a pair of dusty, worn-out sneakers with the laces tied loosely.

Having not seen him for over half a month, Hester noticed he had dyed his hair back to black, short and slightly tousled with soft waves. In this state, Sean looked much fresher than before, even carrying a hint of docility.

Yet, the moment he caught sight of Hester, a flippant expression returned to his face—the very expression Hester found so intensely familiar and utterly repulsive.

"Hey," Sean walked up, greeting her. "I really didn't think you'd actually write to me... When Molly told me you wanted to apologize to me in person, I thought she was just bluffing."

Hester took a slight step back, maintaining a distance between them.

As she gazed at Sean's face up close, she realized the injuries on him had not yet fully faded; the bruises around his eye socket, cheekbone, and the corner of his mouth were all remnants of the beating she had given him before.

"Are you doing alright?" Hester asked. "If it's convenient, I have several questions I'd like to talk to you about in person today."

"Fine, just fine. Coincidentally, I have a bunch of questions for you too..." Sean replied casually. Noticing the nurses at the nearby station walking back and forth and occasionally glancing in their direction, he lowered his voice. "Are you planning to talk to me right here?"

"This isn't suitable. Let's find somewhere quiet."

"You two wait a moment," the head nurse, who had been listening to their conversation all along, finally interrupted the two young people. Smiling playfully, she handed Sean and Hester a clipboard with a registration sheet attached. "Sign here first. How long will you be out?"

Sean picked up the pen and looked at Hester. "How long?"

"Half an hour?" Hester gazed at the tip of Sean's pen. "Half an hour should be enough."

"Fine." Sean lowered his head to fill out the form.

Sean Grangois
Jane Hester

On the daily entry and exit log, these two names sat right next to each other.

The head nurse took back the clipboard and waved at them with a smile. "Don't stay out too long. Come straight back once you're done whispering, you hear?"

Whispering...

Hester silently repeated the word in her mind—from the gazes of the nurses, she could perceive their misunderstanding.

In the eyes of these kind nurse misses, what kind of relationship existed between her and Sean?

Hester vaguely recalled the marching crowd she encountered the first time she took Ms. Chiba's car into the city center.

In the eyes of those kind citizens, what kind of relationship existed between her and the Reserve Base?

She could not help but frown.

In Hester's limited life span, she realized for the first time that the chasm between others and the self could sometimes be vast beyond measure.

"Where are we going?" Sean's voice was remarkably cheerful, even his stride light. "Back to the surface?"

"I cannot leave the underground hospital during non-visiting hours, but we can go to the connection point," Hester answered softly. "There is usually no one there."

The connection point was a passageway linking the dozen underground buildings of the base, and at this hour, it was indeed deserted.

Sean shrugged. "Alright."

The two walked in silence, and Sean gradually began to feel a sense of unease.

Though he might not have necessarily walked this exact path before, it felt overwhelmingly familiar to him—for the convenience of emergency treatments, the base's underground hospital was practically connected to the training grounds for secondary awakenings. With the decoration of every hospital floor being nearly identical, the corridor before him suddenly brought back the sights and scenes of his own secondary awakening last year.

That was his second direct encounter with a chelate since leaving Hekla. At the time, he had been led alone toward the training ground without a single companion by his side. An on-duty mercury needle had escorted him there, roughly shoved him into a cell, claimed that a safety officer standing on the second floor would ensure Sean's safety, and then retreated.

Immediately afterward, two chelates were let in.

...

Sean shivered.

He suddenly came to a halt. Hester stopped as well, turning her head back with a hint of surprise as Sean let out a breath.

"I think seeing this much is enough," Sean said. "No need to go any further."

Hester stared into Sean's face. "What... are you afraid of?"

"Afraid, what is there for me to be afraid of?" Sean laughed. "You didn't insist on making an appointment to meet me here today just to apologize, did you?"

"Indeed," Hester replied calmly. "Stand right here and don't move."

Sean blinked. "Huh?"

Hester offered no further explanation, simply turning her back to Sean and walking away.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four...

Hester walked fifteen meters away, and when she turned back around, a portable DV camera had already appeared in Sean's hands.

Sean's gaze pierced through the pitch-black lens, locking onto Hester.

"What are you doing?" Hester asked.

"Nothing, just recording," Sean replied offhandedly. "After all, since I've been ambushed by this trick before, I need to have some self-defense awareness to avoid falling into any more traps... Why did you walk so far away?"

"I have a few questions I want to ask," Hester said softly. "Speaking from this distance is more appropriate."

"Uh-huh."

"The first question is one Liz asked me." Hester put her hands behind her back, her gaze passing over Sean to fix on the overhead lights further down the corridor. "She said, on the day I was sent to the hospital, you were brought into Ms. Molly's office. Molly asked why you didn't run away instead of taking my beating, and you suggested that it was a demand for you to become a 'perfect victim'."

Sean chuckled. "That's right, is there a problem?"

Hester tilted her head slightly, her gaze shifting from the distance, slowly falling back onto Sean.

"Liz asked me, 'Why are the reasons we use to untie victims always repurposed by perpetrators as excuses to absolve themselves of guilt?' Do you have any idea about that?"

"That depends on the circumstances, Hester. The primary question is: who defines a 'victim'?" Sean answered indifferently. "Whoever holds the power to define holds everything. Next question."

"The second question was asked by Ms. Chiba," Hester breathed slowly. "She said there are three kinds of people in the world who can act without regard for consequences: first, the nobility; second, eccentric geniuses; third, outlaws. The nobility possess overwhelming power, eccentric geniuses possess extraordinary talent, and outlaws have nothing left to lose. Thus, all of them can defy the rules and make others feel deeply troublesome.

"Which one are you, Sean?"

Sean furrowed his brow slightly, genuinely pondering the question for a moment.

"If I absolutely have to choose one, an eccentric genius." Sean raised his head. "Why ask such a question? Is there any point?"

"Then... the third question."

Hester fell into a brief silence, and Sean waited with keen interest.

He lowered his head, twisting the dial of the DV camera, and zoomed in for a close-up of Hester's expression at that moment—she was taking deep, repeated breaths, as if the inquiry she was about to utter required immense resolve.

On the small screen, Hester suddenly looked directly into the lens.

"...Which one do you think I am?"