A thin figure suddenly darted out onto the empty street outside, speeding past on a skateboard.

Brian Carter paused for a moment, remembering that little girl named Ashley Bennett from before. There really were quite a few people playing with skateboards in this rundown city.

“I’ll come over, okay?” Henry Cooper suddenly said.

“Hm?” Brian Carter didn’t react right away.

“I said I’ll come see you,” Henry Cooper said. “Isn’t it still a few days before school starts? I’ll bring over the stuff I bought for you.”

“No.” Brian Carter said.

“Don’t be so stubborn. You haven’t told anyone else about this, and right now I’m the only one who can give you a little warmth,” Henry Cooper sighed. “Let me come and comfort you.”

“How are you going to comfort me?” Brian Carter said. “Give me a blowjob?”

“Fuck you, Brian Carter, can you have a little shame!” Henry Cooper shouted.

“With you so enthusiastically wanting to come all this way, why should I care about shame? I should hurry up and cooperate with you.” Brian Carter walked around the room with his cigarette butt, found a can of eight-treasure porridge covered in ash, opened it, and before he could even see what was inside, the stench of old smoke almost made him throw up.

He tossed the cigarette butt in and put the lid back on, feeling at that moment like he never wanted to smoke again in his life.

A strange and frustrating environment, strange and frustrating “family.”

Brian Carter had thought he’d have insomnia in this situation, but after lying down on the bed, the pain of being unable to sleep disappeared. To his surprise, he found himself sleepy—not just sleepy, but exhausted, like the feeling after two weeks of cramming late into the night.

It came on suddenly.

As soon as he closed his eyes, he fell asleep as if he’d lost consciousness.

He didn’t even dream all night.

When he woke up in the morning, the first thing he felt was soreness all over his body. As he got out of bed, Brian Carter had the illusion that his real identity was a dockworker hauling heavy loads—one who hadn’t even worked a full week yet.

He picked up his phone to check the time. It was still pretty early, just past eight.

He got dressed and walked out of the room. Everything in the house was just as it had been the night before, even the empty bed in the other bedroom.

David Thompson hadn’t come back all night?

Brian Carter frowned. After washing up, he felt a little embarrassed. His attitude yesterday hadn’t been great. David Thompson had pulled him to drink, but there was no ill intent—just different habits. Yet he’d refused stiffly. Could it be that David Thompson hadn’t come back all night because of that?

He hesitated, took out his phone, and thought about calling David Thompson. They hadn’t drunk together last night, but having breakfast together in the morning shouldn’t be a problem.

Just as he was dialing, he heard the sound of keys outside the door, followed by the lock rattling for a good twenty or thirty seconds before the door finally opened.

David Thompson came in wrapped in a chill, his face dark, looking utterly exhausted.

“Up already?” David Thompson called out loudly as soon as he saw him. “You’re up pretty early. How’d you sleep?”

“…Not bad.” As Brian Carter answered, he caught a strong smell of smoke on him, mixed with some other strange, unpleasant odors—like the kind you’d smell on old red or green trains.

“Had breakfast yet?” David Thompson took off his coat and shook it, making the smell even stronger. The small living room was soon filled with the stench.

“No,” Brian Carter said. “How about we…”

“There are plenty of places selling breakfast just outside. Go eat,” David Thompson said. “I’m dead tired, I’m going to sleep for a bit. If I’m not up by noon, just eat by yourself.”

Brian Carter watched him go into the other bedroom, not even taking anything off before collapsing onto the bed and pulling the covers over himself. Somewhat speechless, he asked, “Where were you last night… what were you doing?”

“Playing cards. My luck’s been shit lately, but yesterday was pretty good! You brought me some luck, kid!” David Thompson shouted cheerfully, then closed his eyes.

Brian Carter picked up the keys David Thompson had left on the table, turned, and walked out the door, thinking that his earlier embarrassment was really too naive.

The snow had stopped, but the air was still biting cold.

The little street was livelier during the day than at night—there were people, cars, and the sound of firecrackers. But when everything was bright, all the decay that could be hidden in the darkness was now exposed.

Brian Carter wandered up and down the street twice, finally going into a bun shop, eating a few buns and a bowl of tofu pudding. The soreness in his body didn’t go away; in fact, it felt even worse, as if he’d woken up to it.

He was probably coming down with a cold. After breakfast, he went to the pharmacy next door and bought a box of medicine.

Standing by the roadside after buying the medicine, he felt a bit lost. Go back?

The image of David Thompson collapsing onto the bed reeking of strange smells made him feel irritated. He didn’t even know what he’d do if he went back.

Sleep or just stare into space?

He stood at the pharmacy entrance for a few minutes, then decided to walk around the area and get to know this place where he didn’t know how long he’d be staying.

Aimlessly, he followed the little street to the main road, turned a corner, and went into another small street parallel to the previous one. Brian Carter wanted to see if there was a way to loop back from this street.