Chapter 1010: Also a "Joker" |
Reality. A museum in an unknown city.
When Zhen Xin returned to the rest area, a figure was already waiting at her desk.
Seeing the figure, Zhen Xin raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Mingyu, what brings you here?"
But this single sentence made the seated An Mingyu frown, her expression tightening.
"Zhen Yi!?"
Zhen Xin froze, then broke into a bright smile.
"Sorry — just finished a meeting with a bunch of liars. Haven't switched my mood back yet. It's me."
Zhen Xin smiled as she settled into her chair, then proceeded to handle History School business while openly ignoring An Mingyu's presence. The latter seemed more comfortable with this version. Her tension eased, and she spoke:
"No, you don't!" Zhen Xin cut her off with a glance. "Mingyu, if the person sitting here were no longer the me you know, but another me — would you... still say what you came to say today?"
"..."
An Mingyu fell silent again. She knew their bond should be seamless, but she was still adjusting — not to Zhen Xin's attitude toward her, but to untangling her own internal knots.
Friendship, faith, seeking, truth — the knot was complex. An Mingyu was working hard to rediscover her true self. Having felt this world's warmth, that process was accelerating.
"Alright, stop with the stiff face. If you have time, help me review whether these historical research directions are worth the manpower. If you just came to say something inexplicable...
You'd be better off helping me clean.
These people trashed my conference room. Clearly nobody takes the president seriously."
Hearing that familiar complaint, An Mingyu's integration with this world deepened another notch. She chuckled softly and headed to the conference room to work. Watching her go, Zhen Xin's eyes glinted with mischief as she shook her head with a wry smile:
"Making a blind person do chores — now that's entertainment."
Before long, the slightly sweaty An Mingyu finished her task and waved goodbye. But she'd noticed her best friend seemed agitated — pressing both hands against her head, staring blankly at the desk.
"Xin Xin?"
Zhen Xin snapped her head up. Seeing An Mingyu, she instantly forced a smile.
An Mingyu paused, seeming to realize something. She tilted her head with a grin: "Got tricked again?"
Zhen Xin nodded with a bitter smile: "It's so frustrating. A real handful, this liar."
'Seems fine.'
Amused by Zhen Xin's competitive streak, An Mingyu stepped forward to pat her head — but her outstretched hand hesitated mid-reach. Sensing the retreat, Zhen Xin leaned her head toward An Mingyu instead.
"It'll be fine."
An Mingyu nodded too: "Mm. It'll be fine."
With that, the [Fate] Chosen departed. The moment she vanished, Zhen Xin's warm smile turned ice-cold. She slammed a hand on the desk, gnashing her teeth:
"ZHEN YI!!!
Do you have ANY idea how important that Joker Society was!?"
The next second, the cold face shifted. A playful grin emerged:
"Of course I do~ That's why I left you ALL the memories. Didn't hold back a single thing.
Oh, my dear sister, don't worry. My performance was flawless. They had no idea."
"..." Zhen Xin's expression shifted again, darkening unpredictably. "When did you—"
"Today was so exhausting. I'm sleepy. Going to sleep now. Good night~ Zzz—"
"Zhen Yi!?"
"Zzz—"
...
Reality. A workshop in an unknown city.
The two Doctors reunited and conducted a systematic information cross-check. Once they confirmed the intelligence each had gathered at the Joker Society matched, they exchanged a glance. One of them smiled — and slit his own throat.
"Can't let it go to waste. Flesh and blood are precious raw materials."
The Doctor smiled as he lifted his other self and carried him deeper into the laboratory.
After 0221's death, the Doctor had consolidated the entire experimental complex. He was now its master — though he shared that title with one other.
Carrying his experimental material, the Doctor approached a cage wrought of flesh and blood. Inside hung another version of himself, strung upside down and barely clinging to life. He smiled:
"Changed your mind yet?
What's so bad about merging with me? After all, you are me, and I am you. We were always meant to be one. Isn't that right?"
The caged Doctor wheezed. Mustering every ounce of strength to pry open one eyelid, his vacant eyes fixed on his captor. His voice was weak but reverent:
"I never imagined the true mastermind wasn't 0021 — but you... Wang Weijin!
You planted a failsafe from the very first slice, didn't you? You inscribed your obsession with the slice experiment and splicing experiment into every clone's genetic code...
So when I resumed those experiments, your personality resurfaced from within them...
Ha. Clever.
0221 probably never realized his success in meeting Zangier wasn't because the experiment went well — he was just lucky. Lucky enough not to trigger your original personality...
I wasn't so fortunate...
But give up, Wang Weijin. I won't agree..."
"Why not?" The one outside the cage studied his caged self with amusement. "Just because you don't belong here?
Isn't that even better?
If our fusion can bridge the connection across space-time, then forking a new [Time] pathway as an experimental branch isn't out of the question.
This is a perfect opportunity for approaching [Truth]. You shouldn't throw it away."
"Heh..." The caged Doctor shook his head. "Now I understand. My [Truth] became [Deceit] long ago. You and I... we're not the same kind of person."
The outer Doctor's expression hardened, all humor gone. He turned and walked away, done wasting words.
"[Time] or [Deceit] — both are merely stepping stones to [Truth].
You're too attached. But that's not a problem.
Even without willing consent, I can still absorb you. Relax. The day I meet Zangier again is the day the three of us become one.
Look forward to it, Doctor."
Wang Weijin left. The caged Doctor watched his retreating figure and laughed bitterly.
"Of course I look forward to that day...
But what I look forward to more... is the moment he defeats you again...
You underestimated the Jokers...
And I... am also a 'Joker'..."
...
Meanwhile, somewhere else.
"Interesting. You actually agreed to make the trade?"
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I also want to try etching the memories within this mirror."
"Then... deal?"
What answered that voice was no longer a voice — but a hand. A hand that was [Existence] — and warm.
...
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