Chapter 87: Searching for the Knife

Ten minutes later.

“This is delicious! So good!” Yangyang’s little hands shoveled food from his plate at lightning speed, devouring it like a starving beast.

“I never would have thought that food cooked by an ordinary mortal could taste so wonderful.”

This was Yangyang’s first time eating food from the human world, so he wolfed it down, desperate enough to swallow the entire plate if he could.

Before he took on his human form, he had always grown as a tuckahoe fungus, so he had never tasted such delicious food.

If he had to say what he used to live on, it would have been soil—yes, in the truest sense, he grew up eating dirt.

“Slow down, no one’s going to steal your food. If you don’t have enough, you can get more from the auntie,” Chang Yu said, a bit embarrassed by Yangyang’s ravenous display—especially with Katya present. He felt all the more unable to keep face.

After all, Yangyang was his child; every word and deed reflected on Chang Yu.

He shifted his gaze to Katya.

Katya ate with great elegance, her head slightly bowed, picking up her food in small, delicate bites. Just watching her was a pleasure.

No wonder she was a beauty—even the way she ate was pleasing to the eye.

“You said you had something to discuss with me?” Perhaps influenced by Katya, Chang Yu found himself eating with more grace as well.

Yes, one must be a gentleman in front of a beautiful woman.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Katya didn’t answer his question directly, but countered with her own.

“Yes, absolutely!” Chang Yu replied without hesitation, firm and resolute.

Since Katya had spoken, even if he wasn’t free tomorrow, he’d find a way to make time.

“Come with me somewhere tomorrow,” Katya said unhurriedly.

Chang Yu’s excitement spiked at her words—it sounded like Katya was asking him out.

It seemed he still had his charms—how else could someone as top-tier as Katya be drawn to him?

Chang Yu was secretly elated, feeling as if no sunshine could outshine his own radiance.

“We’re going to practice live-fire shooting,” Katya’s next sentence brought Chang Yu’s fantasies crashing down.

So it wasn’t a date after all?

He froze, putting down his chopsticks and pausing mid-bite.

“What’s live-fire shooting?” he asked.

“It means real guns and real bullets at the range,” Katya replied lightly. “We’ll be using actual firearms and real ammunition.”

“There’s a place like that in H City? How come I’ve never heard of it?” Chang Yu grinned, a thrill of anticipation rising in him.

He’d always liked guns, dreaming as a child of being as slick with them as 007 on TV.

“Our Bureau of Disaster Investigation has a dedicated training ground, not open to the public,” Katya explained. “I remember when you were in the hospital, you said you wanted a sidearm, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes—has the organization decided to issue me a gun?” Chang Yu nodded eagerly, feeling for a moment as if he were finally being taken seriously.

“Not quite,” Katya poured cold water on his enthusiasm with a single sentence.

“But if you want a sidearm, you must first learn how to use firearms and become familiar with them.”

“If you haven’t undergone systematic training, the organization can’t possibly entrust you with a weapon.”

“An untrained person with a gun is a danger to his comrades in combat.”

“The risk is no less than handing a timed bomb to a three-year-old—it could go off at any moment.”

“For everyone’s safety, we must ensure that every investigator with a sidearm is an excellent marksman.”

“You wouldn’t want to finally have a gun aimed at a calamity, only to miss even its shadow, would you?”

“Live-fire training is a process every investigator who wants a sidearm must go through. I’ll be your instructor.”

Even though this was only a live-fire training session and not the direct issue of a sidearm, Chang Yu was far from discouraged—in fact, his delight was evident.

The fact that Katya could take him to live-fire training was an excellent sign in itself.

It meant the organization was considering issuing him a weapon.

Otherwise, why would the Bureau have Katya train him? They couldn’t possibly be doing it just for fun.

Of course, the chance to handle real guns was only a small part of his excitement.

The real reason for his joy was the prospect of spending an entire day in close proximity to Katya.

During training, there would inevitably be some physical contact—correcting his grip, shoulder to shoulder demonstrations, hand-on-hand guidance, and so on.

Any of these would be enough to make Chang Yu blush, his heart racing with anticipation.

Maybe, just maybe, he could use this chance to spark a romantic connection with Katya!

After training, he could even invite Katya to dinner as thanks—a romantic candlelit meal.

Then, the two of them could stroll together under the glittering city lights, seeking solace for their souls…

Absolutely perfect!

“Is Feng Sanpao coming too?” Chang Yu was a bit worried that Feng, the perennial troublemaker, would intrude on his time alone with Katya.

He still hadn’t gotten over what happened in the hospital.

“He won’t be there,” Katya’s answer filled Chang Yu with relief. “His mental state is complicated, and the Bureau would never allow him to carry a gun—he’s simply too unstable.”

Though her words were tactful, Chang Yu understood her meaning.

No sane person would want to hand a firearm to someone with a mental illness.

It made sense—the Bureau didn’t even let Feng drive, let alone entrust him with something as dangerous as a gun.

“Honestly, I think Feng is just a bit childish. In other respects, he’s no different from anyone else,” Chang Yu said, for once standing up for Feng.

“Is he really a psychiatric patient? Maybe you made a mistake.”

“You haven’t seen him off his meds, or you wouldn’t say that,” Katya replied, her mouth twitching.

“He relies on medication to control his symptoms—that’s why he seems normal most of the time.”

“What’s he like when he doesn’t take his meds?” Chang Yu looked at her, pensive.

“He calls everyone he sees ‘Orochimaru,’” Katya said after a pause. “Then, without another word, he runs around with a kitchen knife, slashing at people.”

“He shouts about getting his Sasuke back, avenging the Leaf Village, and other nonsense. No one in the psychiatric hospital isn’t afraid of him.”

“While he was there, he mistook forty patients for Orochimaru and thirty staff members for Sasuke.”

“Good heavens!” A cold sweat broke out on Chang Yu’s back. “So I’m not the only Sasuke!”

An image popped into his mind unbidden:

A skinny youth in blue-and-white striped pajamas, wild-eyed and disheveled, chasing a group of patients around the ward.

He brandished a gleaming kitchen knife, slaughtering his way through them like Zhao Zilong at Changban Slope, shouting cringe-worthy, over-the-top lines that no one could stop.

What a scene—truly beyond words!

Chang Yu was beginning to understand why, as soon as Feng’s abilities awakened, Katya and the others brought him straight to the Bureau.

So the one who seemed the most harmless was actually the most dangerous and unstable of them all.

“To see life and death lightly, to fight if you’re not convinced,” Chang Yu said, full of admiration. “Now that’s a real boss.”

Speak of the devil and he appears—people really do arrive when you mention them.

As Chang Yu was speaking, Feng Sanpao entered the cafeteria in his heavy armor, staggering under its weight.

“Well, if it isn’t Sasuke-kun and Sakura-chan! You’re all here!” Feng raised a trembling arm in greeting.

“Who’s this kid? Is he the new investigator in our group?” His eyes were sharp enough to spot Yangyang, who was still shoveling food into his mouth.

“My name is Yangyang—just a freeloader, not an investigator,” Yangyang quipped, in unusually good spirits.

“Haha, you’re quite the comedian,” Feng chuckled, not taking Yangyang’s words seriously.

“You all chat, I’m going to get my food.” With that, he shuffled off toward the serving window.

“Ever since he got that set of armor, he wears it everywhere,” Chang Yu told Katya in a low voice.

“He insists it makes him feel safe—he wears it wherever he goes. It’s almost an obsession.”

“With that frail little body of his, just standing in it is exhausting. I half expect him to collapse just walking.”

“Maybe you should do something. If he falls and hurts himself, what then?”

“I actually think it’s good for him,” Katya mused. “He’s so thin; wearing that armor is like strength training—let him build up his body.”

“You have a point,” Chang Yu agreed. “Maybe he’ll get stronger this way.”

He glanced at Yangyang, still immersed in his food, then at Feng heading for the serving window, and said to Katya, “I have something to discuss with Feng. You eat first.”

“All right,” Katya replied with easy assent.

Chang Yu rose decisively, walked over to Feng, and slapped him on the shoulder, making the armor rattle.

“????”

Feng looked at him in confusion, not sure what Chang Yu wanted.

“Come with me, I need to talk,” Chang Yu said, calmly draping an arm around Feng’s shoulders and steering him away.

“We can talk here, I’m getting my food!” Feng protested, eyeing the dinner lady and his waiting tray longingly.

“Don’t worry, your tray isn’t going anywhere. You can come back for it,” Chang Yu said, pulling Feng away to a quiet corner.

“What’s up?” Feng asked, still bewildered by the sudden abduction.

“It’s nothing much—just something I wanted to ask you.”

Chang Yu’s expression was so solemn that even Feng started taking him seriously.

“Do you think it’s possible for men to have children?” Chang Yu asked, heavy with anxiety.

“Do you really take me for a lunatic?” Feng exploded. “Men giving birth?”

“If that were true, imagine what courage a man would need to carry on living in this world!”

“If it were me, I’d grab a rope, toss it over a beam, and hang myself. I couldn’t bear the shame.”

Why did that sound so familiar? Hadn’t he said something like that himself before?

Rage surged in Chang Yu’s chest.

He glanced around as if searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” Feng asked.

“A knife!” Chang Yu glared at him murderously, eyes cold as ice, wanting nothing more than to slice him to pieces.

“What for?” Feng asked, oblivious to the threat.

“Never you mind,” Chang Yu replied with a sinister grin that gave Feng goosebumps. “Just tell me—did you take your meds today?”

“If not, I’ll let it go. If you did… then we need to have a serious talk.”