Chương 138: The Final Day

Joe blinked as awareness returned, finding himself lying on a narrow bed beneath a beige ceiling cracked by years of neglect. For a moment, he simply stared, letting the unfamiliar stillness settle. He pushed himself upright and paused. The hands resting in his lap were not his. They were smooth and unscarred, fingers uncalloused, skin untouched by labour or battle. Hands that had never swung a quarterstaff or bled into soil. Uncertainty crept through him as he slid from the bed and crossed to the small closet.

Inside hung simple clothes, plain, serviceable, devoid of flair or meaning. He chose an outfit that seemed passable and dressed without ceremony. The bathroom was modest and clean. He washed his face, brushed unfamiliar teeth, and lifted his gaze to the mirror. Bi Luo Zuo stared back at him. The boy was young, eighteen, perhaps, and striking in a way that bordered on irritating. Clean features, bright eyes, a face that would have drawn attention whether it wanted to or not.

Joe let out a quiet grunt and turned away, heading downstairs as the scent of breakfast drifted through the house. The dining room was already occupied. A man, a woman, and a girl sat at the table, mid-meal, laughter lingering in the air. His sister looked up first, cheeks stuffed with food, and grinned at him.

"What are you wearing?" she asked around a mouthful.

"Did you bump your head again? Or did yesterday's beatings finally break your brain?" She giggled, clearly delighted with herself.

"I bumped my head," Joe lied smoothly.

"But what's wrong with this? I think it looks fine." He gave a small twirl for emphasis.

"You really did bump your head," his sister declared.

"Why are you talking like that? Mum!! Bi Luo's broken!" She laughed, snatched the remaining toast from her plate, and bolted for the door.

"I'll see you tonight!" she called over her shoulder.

"Don't die, Bi Luo!" The door slammed behind her, leaving a strange silence in her wake. Joe chuckled softly. Don't die. Poetic, perhaps prophetic in its own way. He sat and picked up the toast waiting for him, taking a tentative bite. The taste made him pause. Mango. He frowned. Mango-flavoured toast made absolutely no sense, but he shrugged and shoved the rest into his mouth before standing again.

"Bi, come here a moment," his mother said gently. He hesitated, then obeyed. She rose and fussed over him, smoothing his hair, patting his shoulders as if checking for invisible flaws.

"There," she said with a satisfied nod.

"That's better, my handsome boy." She pinched his cheek and kissed him squarely on the nose.

"Now try not to anger Rufus and Gallo… and Drogon and everyone else… for once," she added, half pleading, half resigned.

"I'll try, Mother," Joe promised. Deciding to play the part of his role as son. As he spoke, flashes of memory surfaced: Bi Luo being cornered, fists raining down, laughter sharp and cruel. At least ten boys. Yesterday alone. Crikey. He leaned in and kissed his mother on the cheek, then turned and left the house. Behind him, silence fell like a dropped plate.

"Did he just… kiss me goodbye?" his mother asked faintly. Bi Luo's father stared at the door, his jaw hanging open. After a moment, he nodded, equally stunned. Neither of them knew what unsettled them more, that their son had changed, or that for the first time, he had walked out the door smiling. As Joe stepped out into the morning sun, more borrowed memories began to surface, drifting through his thoughts like fragments of a life half-remembered.

He saw Bi Luo turning away from a fiery redhead, her expression wounded and furious. He saw her brother's response soon after… fists, boots, laughter as Bi Luo was beaten into the dirt. Another image followed: a beautiful brown-haired girl dressed in what looked like a maid's uniform, someone Bi Luo had clearly adored from afar. Faces blurred past, other youths, a stern village chief, and elders whose names hovered just out of reach. Every single one of them was absurdly attractive.

Joe frowned as understanding settled into his mind. Were all High Humans ridiculously attractive? As he wandered through the village, the answer became obvious. Yes. He didn't spot a single plain face, let alone an ugly one. Beauty here wasn't rare; it was baseline. A countdown timer pulsed at the top of his vision. Fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes. He briefly considered hiding somewhere, locking himself in a cellar or storage shed and letting the timer run out. Maybe he could cheat the gate that way.

The thought lasted only a moment before he dismissed it. Where was the point in that? He'd been dragged into the gate against his will; he might as well see it through properly. What troubled him more was PJ's absence. If he was trapped inside Bi Luo's body, then where was she? Was she experiencing this trail as well, or was this place sealed to High Humans alone? He had no answers.

"Uriel? Are you there?" No answer came. Shrugging, Joe continued. As he strolled lazily, a rough map of the village began to assemble in his mind, guided by Bi Luo's lingering familiarity. Joe altered his course, steering away from the village centre. That was where Bi Luo's memories promised trouble, conflict, resentment, and more beatings. Instead, Joe headed toward an area Bi Luo had never dared explore. If this is his final day, Joe reasoned.

Then doing everything differently might be the only way to survive it. He pushed onward, deliberately stepping into the unknown. As he walked, the village fully awakened around him. Doors opened. People emerged, greeting one another and setting about their daily routines. Slowly, patterns began to reveal themselves. Most of the High Humans bore sun-kissed skin and long, flowing blond hair that gleamed in the morning light. Women wore their hair loose in a wide array of styles.

Older women favoured a centre part, their hair curling naturally around their faces, while younger girls swept theirs to one side, often shaving a small section near one temple. Many wore a single braid on the right side, young and old alike, though not all shared the custom. Joe wondered if it marked status, lineage, or something more personal. The men were more uniform. Nearly all wore their long hair pulled back into tails, with both temples shaved clean.

Two narrow braids ran just above the shaved sections, framing their faces in a way that stirred memories of old Viking imagery Joe had once seen on television. He was shaken from his observations when a familiar sensation stirred in his mind. Uriel began to hum. The sound was soft, distant, almost echoing. Joe seized the chance to try to get her attention once more.

'Uriel. Is there anything you can help with?' The humming continued. No words followed. Uriel felt… distant. Not absent, but not fully there either. Like she was observing from somewhere far away, Joe raised a hand to his chest, touching the places where his bond tattoos should have been. The skin was smooth. Cold. Empty. No warm pulses, no feeling of mana. A voice cut sharply through the air.

"Bi Luo!" Joe stiffened. Shit. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd forgotten to watch where he was going. He looked up to find a woman, early forties, perhaps, waving cheerfully as she swept the stone path in front of her house. A new memory surfaced, sharp and precise, and Joe groaned inwardly.

"Morning, Cere," he said, recognizing the village chief's wife. Now he understood why Bi Luo avoided this part of the village.

"Well now, this is a surprise," Cere replied warmly.

"Seeing you wandering about here so early, Bi. Looking for someone in particular?" She winked. For a fleeting moment, Joe lost his train of thought. Cere was even more striking than most of the villagers he'd seen, and worse, she bore more than a passing resemblance to the girl Bi Luo was hopelessly infatuated with. Her daughter. Oh no.

"Not particularly," Joe replied, carefully.

"Just thought I'd change my morning route. Avoid trouble, you know." Cere blinked at him.

"You? Avoid trouble?" She laughed, rich and musical.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I bumped my head this morning," Joe lied again. Cere nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Well, if you're not looking for someone in particular, then your timing is… interesting." She glanced back toward the house just as the door creaked open. As if on cue, a young, fair-skinned girl stepped outside. Long brown curls framed her face, braided artfully across one side before cascading freely down her back. A red sash was woven through her hair and tied across her forehead. She wore a maid's dress adorned with frills and a wide skirt, and she moved with effortless grace.

Joe felt Bi Luo's body tense instinctively, and he had to exert every shred of willpower to keep it still. He locked his gaze firmly on Cere instead. She noticed his odd movements and smiled knowingly. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

"Dances," Cere greeted her daughter. Dances leaned in and kissed her mother's cheek.

"I'm off, Mother. I'll see you later." She didn't spare Joe so much as a glance. A quiet pang of sympathy stirred in him. Bi Luo's affection was entirely one-sided; the girl he adored barely knew he existed. Perhaps that was for the best. Dances skipped away, disappearing down the street. Cere watched her go, then turned back to Joe.

"Shouldn't you be going?" she purred, punctuating the question with another wink as she resumed sweeping. Joe bowed deeply, more to hide the warmth creeping into his cheeks than out of courtesy, then spun and headed off, deliberately choosing the opposite direction from where Dances had gone. He didn't notice Cere pause mid-sweep, or the way her eyes lifted just in time to catch sight of her daughter lingering around the corner, watching Bi Luo hurry away.

"Children…" Cere sighed softly.

"Oh, what it is to be young again." At that, Dances vanished from sight, and Cere returned to her work, smiling to herself. Joe forced himself to slow his breathing as he tried to steady his pulse. He'd only been walking briskly for five minutes, yet he was already winded, and a deeply troubling sensation began to bloom.

"Really, Bi?" he muttered to the open sky.

"Not even a bit of exercise now and then?" For someone so slim, this body was shockingly unfit. It was downright appalling. Worse still was the way his chest tightened at the sight of Dances, that sharp spike of emotion rising unbidden. Teenage angst was the worst. If he wanted to keep any semblance of control, he would have to avoid the girl entirely. Survival came first. He offered Bi Luo a quiet, internal apology and pressed on.

He walked another thirty minutes, nodding and waving to passersby, until he reached a building that stirred an immediate memory. A distillery, oddly placed right in the heart of the residential quarter. Joe froze. The recollection hit hard, and instinct screamed at him to turn and run. Red hair flooded his thoughts, too much red hair. He pivoted to retreat, but once again, he was too slow.

A round, red-haired older woman burst out of the distillery, brandishing a ladle as she chased after a small boy who fled laughing down the street.

"I'll get you one of these days!" she called after him, then snapped her gaze onto Joe.

"Bi Luo! Get over here right now!" Joe managed exactly two steps before stopping dead with a groan. Ignoring her crossed his mind, but his borrowed body's instincts recoiled violently at the idea. That path led only to pain. With a resigned sigh, he turned and walked toward his fate.

"Morning, Gretel," Joe greeted, offering a respectful bow.

"It's always a pleasure to see you before the sun reaches its peak." Gretel blinked, then barked out a laugh and slapped him on the shoulder hard enough to nearly send him sprawling. Joe bit back a hiss. What does this woman eat? He wondered grimly.

"Just the loud-mouthed young sprite I was looking for. I need your help," Gretel declared, clamping onto him with an iron grip and dragging him toward the distillery doors. Joe protested, tried to pull free, but it was hopeless. He'd have better luck sprouting wings.

"That was quite the flowery greeting, Bi. Feeling out of sorts today?" Gretel asked, casting him a sideways look as she hauled him inside.

"I bumped my head," Joe groaned, stumbling as he struggled to keep his footing, once again cursing this body's complete lack of strength. Gretel merely nodded, smiling as if that explained everything. Inside, she finally released him, and Joe rubbed at his tender shoulder.

"You should exercise more," Gretel chided as she ushered him deeper into the building and into a small back room. Joe glanced around. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, stacked with empty bottles, glass containers, and a bewildering assortment of tools and components. He assumed they were part of the distillation process, though he couldn't name a single one of them.

"Tell me, Bi," Gretel said, peering at him over the rim of her spectacles, "I noticed the lack of bruises on your face. So you managed to avoid my son so far?" Joe winced at the casual way she referred to his apparent daily tormentor, without a trace of concern, shame, or sympathy.

"So far, yes," Joe replied carefully.

"And hopefully it stays that way." Gretel nodded and picked up a large notebook bound in coarse paper. She pressed it into his hands. Joe glanced down at the densely packed inventory list and let out a quiet groan. She wasn't seriously putting him on inventory duty. Surely not.

"All your problems would be solved if you just returned my daughter's affections," Gretel said lightly. It took Joe a full twenty seconds to process that. His thoughts dragged, then landed all at once. Heat flooded his cheeks, and he bowed his head as something heavy and unfamiliar welled up in his chest. Shame. Real shame. Even though he was in control of Bi Luo's body, the emotions clearly weren't entirely his to command.

"I'm sorry," Joe said at last.

"I… I just don't have those kinds of feelings for your daughter." The words felt clumsy, inadequate, but he didn't know what else to say. Gretel only laughed and pointed at him.

"Let me know when you're done counting. I'll treat you to lunch." With that, she disappeared through another door, leaving Joe staring after her, slack-jawed. He looked back down at the long list, sighed deeply, and set to work.

"At least I should be safe here," he mumbled as he began. Naturally, he'd jinxed himself. He had maybe thirty minutes of peace and counting before the redheaded calamity arrived. While counting glass jugs, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. So focused had he been that he hadn't heard anyone approach. When he turned and found Twirling looming over him, he yelped and jumped back, knocking several jugs loose.

In a blur of motion, Twirling spun around him, catching the falling glass with effortless grace and returning everything to the shelves before Joe had even finished inhaling.

"That was clumsy," she said, flicking his nose lightly and smiling.

"Did my mother rope you into counting inventory?" Her gaze dropped to the notebook in his hands.

"Yes," Joe managed, stepping back to create some much-needed space. Twirling stepped forward, closing the gap and tracing a finger along his chin.

"That explains why I had trouble finding you this morning," she said thoughtfully before, mercifully, stepping back. Joe released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Why were you looking for me?" he asked, doing his best to sound casual as he returned to counting.

"No reason," Twirling murmured. Then she picked up a nearby list and moved beside him.

"I'll help," she added.

"That way we'll finish faster and… talk." Joe groaned softly. With no clear escape in sight, he resigned himself to his fate and continued counting, bracing for whatever this conversation might bring. By some stroke of luck, Twirling turned out to be a tireless worker. She focused intently on the task, and the hour passed without a hint of awkwardness as they finished their task.

Most of the credit went to her seemingly endless energy and ability to dart through the storage room at a pace Joe simply couldn't match in this body. He found himself genuinely impressed and equally confused by the way Bi Luo's instincts recoiled at her proximity. He shook it off, chalking it up to teenage angst yet again. Gretel soon returned, mercifully ending the ordeal and declaring them finished.

Joe attempted a quiet escape while Twirling and her mother fell into animated gossip about some village girl he had no interest in. Naturally, this didn't work. Twirling caught him by the arm and, without so much as a word, dragged him into an empty side room, shutting the door firmly behind them.

"Now, about that talk," she began, then paused. She studied him closely, finger resting against her lip, her expression unreadable.

"You've been awfully nice today. Who are you?" she asked flatly. For a heartbeat, Joe wondered if she'd somehow sensed the truth, that he was only borrowing this body. The thought made his stomach tighten, but he dismissed it and shrugged.

"I bumped my head this morning, so I'm feeling a little off," he said.

"Honestly, I should probably head home and rest, if you don't mind." He reached for the door. Twirling smiled and gently pushed him away with one hand. Joe blinked. What does everyone in this village eat? Her arms looked ordinary enough, but the strength behind them was anything but.

"So the bump made you nice?" she said brightly.

"I like it." Joe frowned. Everyone seemed convinced Bi Luo was unpleasant, yet they kept going out of their way to talk to him.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"I'll try to be nicer from now on." She giggled and stepped closer.

"Is that a promise?" she asked, her tone suddenly far more suggestive than he was comfortable with. Joe edged back until his shoulders brushed the wall.

"Kind of," he replied, uncertain. Twirling nodded and stopped advancing.

"I heard you ran into Cere this morning," she said casually, glancing at a nearby desk.

"Did you… Talk much?" Joe stiffened. How the hell did she hear about that already? Did this village run on gossip faster than sound?

"We just exchanged greetings," he replied, eyes flicking toward the door.

"I really do need to go. My mother asked me to run an errand, and I've been distracted long enough." To Joe's surprise, Twirling suddenly hesitated. Her expression shifted, lashes fluttering as a faint flush crept up her neck.

"Oh. Well… I'd better let you go then," she said, stepping aside and opening the door. Joe didn't question the sudden promise of freedom. He surged forward, relief flooding him as he moved to escape… …and walked straight into disaster. Twirling moved faster than he could react, stepping directly into his path and pressing a long, lingering kiss to his lips. Five full seconds passed before Joe's thoughts caught up with reality. He jerked back in shock, nearly stumbling over his own feet.

"Wh… why did you do that?" he stammered, heart hammering. Twirling met his gaze without a hint of embarrassment.

"Because you keep rejecting me," she said calmly.

"You should know by now I'm not easily discouraged. I will have you, Bi. If it's the last thing I do." The certainty in her eyes sent a chill down Joe's spine. In that moment, he understood with unsettling clarity that this girl was far more dangerous than she appeared. She stepped aside, granting him a clear path to the door. Joe fled the room, keenly aware of the unwavering stare burning into his back as he escaped. Moments later, Gretel stepped out from a shadowed corner, watching Joe hurry away.

She shook her head, a knowing chuckle slipping from her lips. Joe's thoughts tangled as he walked, replaying Twirling's words again and again. The shape of something grim began to take form, a branching web of consequences, each path ending badly for Bi Luo. He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed when the quiet streets gave way to a bustling market. He blinked as he emerged among rows of stalls and shouting vendors.

A group of older women passed nearby, whispering loudly behind their hands while casting him pointed looks.

"There he is… the boy that kissed Twirling…" Joe nearly stopped dead. What? That had happened minutes ago… minutes. How was it already common knowledge? He stared after them in disbelief, mind reeling. Whatever was happening here, gossip moved faster than logic allowed. Shaking off the shock, Joe tried to slip away from the crowded street before… A hand settled firmly on his shoulder. Joe froze.

"Bi Luo! There you are. We've been looking for you!" …Fuck.