Chapter Seventy-Nine: Reunion with the Fifth Mark

Ji Ning held a glass of sake in his left hand, sipping quietly. Ten minutes earlier, SCP-CN-655 had briefly asked if he needed assistance. Upon receiving Ji Ning’s affirmation, it had fallen silent, and now his right hand’s muscles and bones were being enveloped by SCP-CN-655, restoring themselves in an uncanny manner.

In truth, SCP-CN-655 had begun the repair even before asking; it merely wished to show Ji Ning a measure of respect, knowing well that children of this age always hope to keep everything within their grasp, even if reality rarely allows it.

“The festival incident has already been reported to the SCP Foundation’s Japan Branch by Chu Chaoyan,” Ji Ning said, just this one sentence, the implication clear to the girls present.

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Afra, her cheeks flushed from alcohol, tapped the table. Her puffed-up demeanor made her resemble a small toy bear waving its fists.

The vote passed unanimously and without debate. Catherine remained tranquil, thinking to herself that it seemed she would have to earn her credits during the holidays.

Ueno Tsuku drained his bottle of shochu, observing these young people from the start. “You’re not reporters, nor police. There’s no need for you to get involved.”

“Officer Ueno, we are partners of justice, after all,” Afra looked at him earnestly, the intensity in her eyes causing Ueno Tsuku to reach instinctively for his empty bottle, only to remember it was finished.

The title—one he had not heard in nearly twenty years—momentarily unsettled Ueno Tsuku. He quickly masked his lost expression. “I was young once too. I know you can’t be dissuaded, but think carefully.”

“Officer Ueno, not just her, all of us can transform into magical girls,” Ji Ning replied with a smile.

When they left the izakaya, Catherine and Afra took Ueno Tsuku’s car to fetch the files he had accumulated over the years. Qin Mo supported the injured Ji Ning, heading toward the hotel.

“I have some fruit at my place,” Qin Mo said softly. Though Ji Ning had smiled throughout the evening, she knew he had eaten nothing but a little sake.

Ji Ning knew he couldn’t hide it from her and didn’t bother to conceal it. “I’ve decided to go vegetarian for a while.”

Qin Mo simply acknowledged him and fell silent. She knew what Ji Ning’s genuine smile looked like, and she understood the boy’s habit of licking his wounds alone, unwilling to let others see his weakness.

Every time he finished class this semester, he returned battered and bruised—not seriously, but painfully nonetheless. Yet he never confided in her, not once.

Though Ji Ning had returned safely to the group, everyone knew he had failed. This was supposed to be a rescue mission; he went in alone and came out alone.

The city’s night was awash in perpetual noise, neon lights painting the streets bright as day, as if darkness had no place here.

“I’m sorry.” Ji Ning stopped and embraced Qin Mo, not wishing her to see his tears.

Qin Mo gently stroked his back. The embrace was not merely for feeling each other’s presence, but to bring their hearts closer.

“That child—I couldn’t save her. By the time I arrived, it was all over. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If I had been stronger, would she have survived?”

Qin Mo didn’t know how to comfort him. She could only rise on tiptoe and hold Ji Ning tighter, trying to ease the suffocating emotion with a firmer embrace.

People always believe heroes can turn the tide at the last moment, but they forget only the successful legends are passed down.

---

Back at the hotel, Qin Mo silently peeled an apple, Ji Ning lying on the opposite couch, watching the unbroken apple skin dangling in the air.

“My mother taught me this,” Qin Mo explained softly, noticing his gaze.

“Qin Mo, am I useless?” Ji Ning turned his head, voice despondent. He felt that failures had no right to eat the apple.

He still saw himself as that wretched boy knocked out and dragged into an alley, beaten down by any setback, never able to do anything right, always passive until things were irreparable. If only he’d realized sooner, been stronger—half as strong as Zhao Tianxing would have sufficed—he could have stormed in, crushed that wretched Jiahe Ryunosuke, and returned the child to her parents.

“Why?” Qin Mo looked at Ji Ning, but her hands didn’t stop; the apple skin remained unbroken under her pale fingers.

“I’ve long known I’m just an ordinary person, neither savior nor hero. My main purpose at Deer Academy was self-preservation. I always thought I’d grow stronger like those hot-blooded manga boys, become handsome and confident, but when I left the academy and faced reality, I realized I was still the same me. Six months at Deer Academy hadn’t changed that—I still couldn’t do anything, couldn’t stop anything.” Ji Ning thought of those hollow, lifeless eyes, and his heart clenched.

He knew he’d never forget the scene—a living, youthful life, barely tasting the world, cut to pieces, so broken it seemed less a person and more a lump of clay.

Qin Mo listened quietly, then handed Ji Ning the peeled apple. Any problem, you can talk to me, she thought, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. Her bright eyes held only tenderness and comfort. She had rehearsed this moment many times in her mind: as long as Ji Ning opened up, even just a glance, if he was willing to show his softer side, she would fulfill her duty as his girlfriend and soothe his wounded heart.

“I’m a loser, a useless failure, unworthy of anyone’s trust.” Ji Ning didn’t take the apple, feeling undeserving of such kindness.

This time, Qin Mo didn’t say anything. She calmly set down the knife and took a bite of the apple herself. “Does self-pity help?”

She could accept Ji Ning’s vulnerability, but not this self-destructive despair. This called for a change in strategy—the gentle approach wouldn’t work here. What he needed wasn’t comfort or persuasion, which would only deepen his guilt and trap him in sorrow. He needed something stronger—anger.

Ji Ning was about to continue when Qin Mo hurled the long apple peel at his face. The fragrant peel snapped in the air, scattering droplets of juice.

Ji Ning stared blankly at the girl who had traded her usual gentleness for icy resolve. “You can keep wallowing here, but nothing you do will change what’s happened.”

Qin Mo’s expression grew stern. “You failed a few times and already label yourself a loser? Who do you think you are, expecting everything to go smoothly? You’re hurting because of pride. If you want to escape guilt, stop licking your wounds like a beaten dog. The Flesh Cult is still in Tokyo. Two roads lie before you: wallow and wait for everything to become irreversible, or do something about it.”

“I do like you, but it’s the you who stayed behind instead of running, the Ji Ning who grumbles but still gets things done. If you give up at the first setback, then send me back to that eternal night—at least then, in my heart, you’ll always be worthy of reliance and trust.” Ji Ning bowed his head, sneaking a glance at the girl whose cold expression was tinged with disappointment. In that moment, his confused heart was stirred. He instinctively wanted to smooth out Qin Mo’s slightly furrowed brow.

There’s only one way to revive a boy instantly: let him glimpse the loss in his beloved’s eyes.

“Eat it.” Her second command.

When Catherine and Afra returned carrying boxes, they found two people, one peeling apples and the other eating them, and sensed something was amiss.

The girl peeling apples looked icy-faced, the one eating apples trembled, and the trash was piled high with apple peels.

“These are the materials Ueno Tsuku collected over the years,” Catherine began, “Afra and I have had a brief introduction from him. The Flesh Cult and certain Japanese politicians have formed a vast network. The politicians provide privileges to cover up the cult’s actions, while the cult satisfies their desires outside the law.”

“In this filthy network, people are mere commodities,” Afra said grimly. Ueno Tsuku’s revelations had deeply shaken her worldview.

“What can we do?” Ji Ning, after seeing Jiahe Ryunosuke’s house, had already guessed part of it, so he wasn’t particularly surprised.

“The usual legal channels won’t work. These cases usually end as disappearances; sometimes, even when a victim’s family reports it, the police only send someone to take a statement—there’s not even a proper file in the precinct, and there’s no evidence linking the politicians.” Catherine pulled out some messy handwritten notes from the box—Ueno Tsuku’s records.

---

“Even the media willing to cover these stories, even as filler news, have been warned—not a single Japanese outlet will report on this.” Afra sifted through some yellowed newspapers. Even when the stories were buried in corners, Ueno Tsuku had circled them in ink.

“What about the internet?” Ji Ning asked instinctively.

Catherine fiddled with her phone for a while, then shook her head. “The internet isn’t lawless.”

“There’s no way through regular legal channels—they have resources and power beyond our reach.” Qin Mo handed Ji Ning the last peeled apple, and though he’d already eaten three, feeling as if his veins ran with apple juice, he accepted and took a bite.

“Assassination? Like Officer Ueno hinted earlier—extraordinary measures?” Afra blinked nervously but excitedly.

“How could we?” Qin Mo was both annoyed and amused. “We’re Deer Academy students, not terrorists.”

“Oh, but actually it’s not impossible. Don’t you Chinese have a saying, something about ‘if others are ruthless, don’t blame us for being unrighteous’?” Afra, though a non-combat linguistics major, was oddly enthusiastic about the idea.

“If you’re hauled before an international tribunal, please don’t name me,” Qin Mo said helplessly. She felt she should give Afra a crash course in basic legal principles.

“We’re from Deer Academy, how could we be caught by those pitiful under-armed police? And Japan doesn’t have a regular army—they won’t catch us.” Afra’s confidence inclined Ji Ning toward her plan.

“Fine. When you’re jailed by the GOC, I’ll visit you,” Qin Mo, who always treated Afra as a sister, didn’t take her fanciful plans seriously.

“We could use Ueno Tsuku’s list to weed out politicians with ties to the Flesh Cult. If we hand these materials to their rival factions, I doubt they’d pass up the chance to push out competitors,” Catherine suggested, offering a practical plan.

“What if they cover for each other? These scandals affect more than those individuals—the entire Japanese government’s credibility would suffer,” Ji Ning mused aloud.

As everyone pondered how to handle this thorny issue, a knock sounded at the door—unhurried, patient.

They fell silent. They had already informed the hotel to refuse all room service, so the visitor was surely here for them.

Could it be Zhao Tianxing? No—he’d never knock more than three times; he wasn’t the type to keep knocking.

Ueno Tsuku? No—Catherine and Afra had just returned from his place and only left a phone number. If he needed to reach them, he would call from the hotel lobby; he didn’t know their room number.

The four exchanged glances, and after a quick guess at the visitor’s identity, Catherine and Afra grabbed their files and laptops, ready. Qin Mo, trained by Silvia, picked up the apple knife from the table.

Ji Ning took a deep breath, swung open the door, and was about to throw a punch—when he realized he couldn’t control his body at all, and SCP-CN-655 had lost contact with him.

Yet Ji Ning didn’t panic. The terrifying aura radiating from the young man before him was not unfamiliar.

The Fifth Jade smiled. Unlike the last time, he wore a black mask emblazoned with an anime-style gaping mouth, lending him a somewhat dramatic air.