Madness ecstasy

When he said the word "reasonable," Doudou raised his fist to his face and clenched it; sawdust and Richard's blood were still lingering between his fingers.

"All this fussing over this, dammit! Do you middle-aged people have to make things so complicated? It's settled. So why are you still putting it off? Don't talk about days, we're going tonight; right now."

He spoke slowly and leisurely, without any decisiveness. But no one would doubt the meaning of the words "right now" from Doudou's mouth.

Richard's hands, wrapped in a plastic bag, kept shaking and making crackling sounds, like a Parkinson's patient:

"I think the word 'help' is too light. If the company really has established a branch in Mong Cai as I thought, then it would be very dangerous to go there directly, even if it means giving you a ride."

Doudou didn't rush to respond to Richard. He was busy pulling out a few cheap tissues from the table, wrapping up the fish bones that Richard had spit out earlier, and piling them on the table.

"First of all, now that we've come this far, there's no way I wouldn't go. Secondly, danger is fun. It's really interesting. If I really run into someone or something that can kill me—hey, aren't you curious about what it feels like to die?"

Before, the mathematician would shake his head like a rattle, but now he stood there motionless like a mannequin.

Doudou shrugged and wiped his hands on his raincoat twice:

"If I find out that death is terrible, and that getting hurt is terrible, then I can just run away."

Chapter 59 Crying

Richard looked at his left hand wrapped in a plastic bag, sweat dripping down his cheek like tears:

"Doudou. I don't want to offend you. But I still need to ask you: What do you expect to find in there? Will this branch have what you want?"

"Is it about killing and fighting? An opponent that matches you?"

"Or more information about ecstasy? Is there any knowledge you must understand and master?"

He spoke in a very literary manner, even using fewer colloquial words - every word that came out of his mouth was carefully selected.

Doudou pointed at the scientist and dumped all the leftovers on the coffee table into the trash can:

"The Doctor is my neighbor—so it's only natural for him to help me, or for me to help him. I still believe you: I also think that it's the Asia-Europe Postal Service who's hunting the Doctor. At least it sounds reasonable."

The mathematician forced a strange, half-crying, half-laughing expression and nodded.

"And then—since you're in about the same trouble as him, I'll help you both solve it all at once; wouldn't that be great?"

Doudou looked around and saw no other garbage left:

“Besides, these are not the most important things.”

"The most important thing, of course, is fun. I've said it before, and I've said it many times! Happy and wonderful memories."

"I'm not some martial arts fanatic, a martial artist, or some kind of space warrior. I'm not necessarily looking to fight to the death. I can't really say that. But if there's an interesting monster, I'd still like to try it."

"But I like excitement: if something big is about to happen, I'll definitely go and see it. You and the Doctor are like two ends of a thread. Suddenly, they come out and hang outside. I'll definitely want to pull them out and see."

"Oh—curious! Yes, I'm curious. I'm very curious."

Richard put down his injured hand and carefully put it into the pocket of his casual suit:

"Okay. I understand. Let's go now. My stimulants won't last long. If this hand is to recover, it will at least require surgery, but there's no time to go to the hospital right now. I think it might be faster to just go to the branch and get some medical staff to take care of it."

"It's okay if I lose my hand, but I still want to keep my life. I'm afraid this towel tourniquet won't be very effective."

He spoke in a calm and composed tone - there was no trace of resentment, hatred or even pity.

Doudou's gaze followed the pocket where Richard hid his hand. Similarly, his words were flat and steady:

"Ah, losing a hand is the price of communication between us; it's also normal."

"But, if your hand isn't injured, did you originally want me to go alone while you watched the show from a distance? Now you have no choice but to go, Old Li—you're not going to run away now, are you?"

Doudou chuckled twice—but it sounded like a mechanical recitation, not a real laugh:

"I understand. If I were in your shoes, I'd inform the section chief or the branch office that I'd lured a powerful esper over there and ask them to help capture him—and then stay away for now. After all, you've left so much suspense, it's piqued my curiosity."

"I might have gone there on my own, impulsively. Ah, no need to be impulsive; I definitely have to go and see it, I can't resist, I don't believe in delayed gratification or anything like that—oh, so you saw through me?"

"If they do catch this superpowered person, your good friend, me! Then you'll have atoneed for your crime and achieved a major accomplishment. You can even negotiate with the section chief for a bigger bonus at the end of the year. There's no rule against continuing to work for a weirdo like the Iron-Rubbing Killer."

"No matter how you offended someone in the past that they had to kill you—after completing this, you've proven your ability and importance."

"Besides! If even I can't defeat your section chief and your company, wouldn't it be foolish of you to still fight them?"

"On the other hand, if I kill them all, you'll make even more money. You said you wanted to wait a few days, so you wanted to contact your section chief and then get yourself out of this? You're trying to be a double-edged sword."

"Hey! Lao Li, you——"

He casually pulled over the mathematician who was stunned at the side:

"Look at you, look at you, how much you've hurt the doctor's heart!"

The mathematician and Richard looked at each other, their facial expressions becoming even more tense.

Doudou grabbed the mathematician's arm and shook it:

"Doctor, cry."

The mathematician was shaking, not daring to look at Doudou. He grinned and made a humming sound--

Snapped!

Suddenly, the mathematician covered his glasses with his hands, covered his eyes and began to tremble; snot and saliva flowed out, and he seemed to have started sobbing.

Doudou spoke with sympathy and concern, but his eyes hadn't blinked for a long time:

"Doc, come on, it's not your fault."

He turned his head back, as if staring at Richard, and also as if looking at the wallpaper behind him:

"Old Li, as a middle-aged man obsessed with selfish entanglements, you suddenly encounter partners like us who share such genuine feelings. It's hard to accept, like a wild boar can't stomach fine chaff. It's normal for you to be tempted to repeat your greasy workplace socializing and the messy intrigue. But!"

"Look at the Doctor, a man who believes so much in true love and in bonds, and yet he's been excluded like this. No one wants to help him redress his grievances, and no one even wants to plot against him. Don't test our friendship like this. Can any sophisticated scheme ever buy priceless affection?"

Richard looked at the mathematician, then at Doudou. Finally, he took out the bright red hand wrapped in the plastic bag and held it in front of his face to examine it.

As he watched, he sighed - then his face frowned, his brow drooped, and tears began to roll out of his eyes and fall to the ground with a plop.

He held his forehead and a high-pitched sob came out of his throat:

"What the hell happened to me today? What did I do? What the hell did I break some fucking law?"

Richard's words were incoherent, but no one doubted the regret and remorse he showed; but no one knew the real reason.

Doudou stared at the wall expressionlessly, stretched out his hand, and gently patted the two on the back:

"Friends should go on adventures together. Don't split up unless it's absolutely necessary."

"It's good to recognize your mistakes. It's good to recognize your mistakes. Everyone should remember this heartache, remember this unforgettable summer vacation with laughter and tears, and cherish the connections between each other even more. Life is so short, and encounters are even more precious."

He waited a moment. The mathematician slumped down on the sofa, sobbing even louder. Richard closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, tears, snot, and saliva forming several shiny lines.

After counting to about thirty seconds, Doudou spoke again:

"That's enough crying. Two grown men, do you think you're in a soap opera?"

With a click, Richard and the mathematician stopped crying as if a switch had been pressed; each of them wiped the body fluids off his face with his sleeve or shirt hem.

-

Doudou folded his arms, completely forgetting the previous topic. He looked at Richard, who had recovered.

"By the way—could you at Asia-Europe Post give you a prosthetic hand like in science fiction movies? The kind that can transform, launch missiles, or be used as a gun?"

"Don't big companies have secret technologies? They have dozens of biochemical labs, weapons labs, and high-tech labs—all of them on high alert."

Richard stood up straight, his face serious. The tears that had been streaming down his face before seemed like an illusion. He was no longer as leisurely as before arriving at the video studio. Instead, he became impatient to leave. He paced back and forth, the soles of his shoes constantly scraping against the ground.

"Maybe. I'm definitely not able to enjoy it at my level—so I hope you can help me. I want to get promoted through you, Doudou. Running away won't solve my problem, but getting rid of my superior—the section chief—maybe can. Of course, this needs to be resolved under more reasonable circumstances."

"No more beating around the bush: I'll be frank. I suspect my direct superior is acting on his own, without consulting headquarters. So if she dies, I might actually be able to make further progress."

"If she doesn't die, I might be hounded for the rest of my life, even if the section chief steps down."

"So now this is my chance to turn the tables—if I can harness your power, my chances of success are high."

"I originally thought it would be difficult for me to climb the career ladder, but with you, things might be different. Yes, I don't want to die, and I also hope to achieve something in my career."

"Anyway, let's get going first, and we'll talk about the rest on the way."

Doudou clapped his hands, seemingly satisfied with Richard's change of attitude:

"Ah—mid- and senior-level leaders secretly do their own thing, sacrificing their confused subordinates. Got it! A classic plot!"

"Oh! Wouldn't it have been better if you had something to say earlier? Just speak frankly and tell me if you have any requests. I've always been a believer in helping in any way I can. Let's go! Hey, Doctor, don't just stand there, let's get going."

He pulled up the mathematician who was still trembling with his head down:

"Doctor, why are you still shaking? Are you having diarrhea? Did you eat too much spicy food? I told you not to eat raw pickles."

Chapter 60 Street Crossing

By the time Doudou finished speaking, the small private room was completely silent—the clamor outside the [Da Lu Hall] had faded. By this point, most of the drinkers had already completed their daily task of [getting drunk].

After pulling up the mathematician who had collapsed on the ground, Doudou took the wet towel that had been bitten by Richard and wiped the blood from the gaps between the floor tiles.

Richard reached into the inside pocket of his casual suit with one hand and pulled out his wallet. He held the wallet against his stomach, pulled out two bills, and placed them under the empty bottle of Red Sun Liquor.

"Doctor, can you drive? Other means of transportation are too slow."

He raised his left hand—now, he looked like Captain Hook, who had no money to hire a blacksmith and had to make do with plastic bags:

"If I drive like this, I'll have problems on the road. Besides, the effects of the stimulant will affect my judgment of distance. It's safer for you to drive. You can't walk."

Doudou looked around the relatively clean little box and nodded with satisfaction:

"Agent Li is right! Although, I'd rather drive it myself and see--"

He paused for a moment to observe the fascinating and complex expressions on the other two people's faces; then he suddenly chuckled:

"But I've only played Wangan Racing in arcades. If you accidentally bump into something, you two will probably get hurt."

-

Crunch, crunch.

In the gloom of Mong Cai, a car moved along the asphalt road. Its slow, jerky movements were irritating on this hot Southeast Asian night.

The mathematician's driving skills were not very good - he drove Richard's Mazda like a flat caterpillar: he stopped every five meters, and his braking was more violent than a roller coaster; he also stalled several times.

Fortunately, even the last bus in Mong Cai had already finished running, and theirs was the only lone Mazda on the main road; it could even lie in the middle of the intersection.

Whether it was the severe pain or motion sickness, even Richard couldn't help but open the window to vomit; Doudou felt nothing at all, and almost fell asleep as he swayed, his eyelids twisting and twitching.

Richard's car was originally parked in the alley behind the police station, not far from the food stalls and video hall. There was a screwdriver stuck in the key hole of the car and several wires hanging under the steering wheel. It seemed that it was not bought honestly from the store.

Like other supporting facilities, the underground parking lot of Shouzhu 151 Building has not yet been completed; some shops in the streets around Shouzhu 151 are waiting to be demolished, and those that have not been demolished have closed down late at night.

The street lights flickered, and some were even out; the air in Mong Cai was a little chilly at this time of the day, and the hustle and bustle of the food stalls in the distance slipped into the night. The original noise seemed like an illusion caused by a fever, with only faint echoes left.

After Shouzhu 151 was roughly completed, Mong Cai became a thumbtack, with Shouzhu 151 being the sharpest and longest needle: the original old commercial district had only seven floors at its highest, and compared with this 151-story building, it was simply a group of mushrooms growing in the concrete grass.

But at this moment, the building looked more like a dark tower rising into the clouds, with its upper part almost submerged in the dark and dark.

-

A few blocks from their destination, they abandoned their car and walked to Shouzhu 151. It wasn't because driving was more dangerous than walking, but because the mathematician finally crashed the Mazda into a utility pole.

Doudou stopped talking so much and skipped along ahead; Richard seized the opportunity to continue sharing possible intelligence. Ever since his palm and five fingers were crushed, he'd become more talkative—perhaps to alleviate his motion sickness:

"The Special Package Handling Division is an operational unit and does not rely on hardware or premises."

“If the Asia-Europe Post has set up a relay point in Mong Cai, then there is only one possibility:”

Richard's strides were long, but his upper body remained balanced and his midline stable. He grabbed the mathematician's armpit and lifted the thin academic so that he could keep up with Doudou's pace - as if the mathematician was the injured one among them.

Richard didn't know whether he was speaking to Doudou, the mathematician, or if he was simply trying to give himself some courage through analysis:

"They should set up a branch in Mong Cai for a long time."

The mathematician could barely touch the ground, swaying:

"Huh? What's the point of setting up a branch? To deal with Doudou?"

Doudou turned his head and raised his hand to cover his mouth. His eyes widened, and he looked very surprised.

"Huh? What's the point of setting up a branch? To deal with me?"

Richard ignored this farce and continued to walk quickly:

"Impossible. Mong Cai is sandwiched between two logistics and postal systems. Our Asia-Europe Postal Intelligence Network doesn't even cover this area. Even if there were direct agents operating there, the feedback wouldn't be this fast."