Little Pink Starfish

“Neither,” An Zhe took another step back, his back pressing against the plastic panel. “I came to the wrong place.”

“Wrong place?” the woman said. “The second floor is the gambling den and golden cave. You want to go there?”
She held a cigarette between her fingers, took a drag with her crimson lips, and then smiled slyly, “Be careful not to gamble yourself away.”

An Zhe looked around, but he had been cornered by the woman and had no way to escape. This flamboyantly dressed human was even harder to deal with than the monsters of the Abyss.

“Don’t be scared,” she exhaled a puff of snow-white smoke and added, “I’m not going to eat you.”

An Zhe: “Then can you let me go?”

The woman laughed again.

“Go?” she raised her eyebrows. “Only those who are desperate come to the third floor. If you leave, where will you go?”

As she spoke, she draped her arm over his shoulders and started leading him forward. “Scared by what you saw here? You don’t have to stay in this area. I’ll get you a big room.”

“Thank you,” An Zhe lowered his head. “But I really came to the wrong place.”

“Hm?”

“I just wanted to find a normal job,” he said, “and someone told me to come to B3.”

“There’s only one floor of the black market above ground worth seeing,” the woman blinked at him, eyes swirling like smoke. “You didn’t even know that?”

An Zhe: “I know now.”

He also now knew that the “Free Market” in the Base Handbook was called the black market by people.

“The base laws don’t protect the black market.” The woman leaned against the wall, smoking. She no longer pinned An Zhe into the corner and left a gap for him to pass.

An Zhe thought this was a sign she would let him go. But just as he took a step, two tall men in black appeared behind her, one on each side, blocking every exit.

“No one leaves once they’re on B3,” the woman’s voice was no longer sweet, but cold and chilling. “Still, you’re in luck.”

An Zhe looked up at her.

“I’ll give you a chance,” she said. “Boss Xiao’s workshop needs a hand. If he wants you, you follow him. If not—”

She cut herself off and turned, heading in a direction. “Come.”

An Zhe paused for three seconds and followed her deeper inside.

The cubicles were dense, like walking through a beehive maze. The lights grew dimmer.

Finally, at the end of the space, a door appeared on a gray wall.

The woman raised her hand and knocked. “Boss Xiao, got a business deal for you.”

Creak. The door opened.

An old man appeared, with a head of snow-white hair, wearing black with a bow tie. He squinted at the woman. “Duse, what a rare guest.”

Duse smiled and finished her cigarette, putting it out on the wall. “Got business with you.”

“How big a deal?” the man, “Boss Xiao,” glanced at her and then at An Zhe.

Duse rested her elbow on An Zhe’s shoulder. “Not big, just tricky. I’m afraid you won’t agree, so I brought you a little gift. Heard your apprentice drank himself to death and you’re looking for the next one. Women are too ugly, men too dumb. How about this kid?”

Boss Xiao’s gray-blue eyes landed on An Zhe. “Looks obedient.”

“He is obedient,” Duse brushed her hair back. “I knew you’d like him the moment I saw him.”

Boss Xiao smiled.

Then he said to An Zhe, “Hand. Let me see.”

An Zhe reached out—his fingers were slender, pale, with a faint pink hue.

“Where’d you pick this kid up?” Boss Xiao said. “How’d you get a child like this into B3?”

Duse: “Tricked him.”

An Zhe: “……”

Boss Xiao said, “Make a fist, slowly.”

An Zhe slowly curled his fingers.

“Again, slower.”

An Zhe slowed further.

“Even slower.”

By the end, An Zhe moved so slowly it was barely visible to the naked eye. He didn’t know why Boss Xiao wanted this, but it wasn’t difficult for him. When he used his mushroom form, he controlled tens of thousands of delicate hyphae. Five human fingers were nothing.

Even Duse leaned over to watch.

“Boss Xiao, you’ve struck gold,” she lit another cigarette. “His hands are steadier than your last apprentice.”

Boss Xiao looked at An Zhe’s hands and chuckled. “Let me borrow him for a few days. If he’s useful, I’ll keep him.”

Duse said, “You’ve got to pay him.”

Boss Xiao: “Sure.”

An Zhe frowned. He needed money, but the word “useful” made him feel uneasy.

“Don’t be scared—though Boss Xiao isn’t exactly a good man,” Duse seemed to see his concern and patted his shoulder, “his skills are worth a lot.”

“I’m not a good man?” Boss Xiao chuckled hoarsely. “I’m the best man in the whole base.”

He turned to An Zhe. “Go look around the shop. I’ve got things to discuss with this crazy woman.”

An Zhe was obedient. He turned to the nearest shelf: odd little bottles filled with liquids or solids, some labeled with images of naked human bodies.
Further in were books with similar covers—he recognized these. The base publishing house An Ze once submitted to had closed down largely because no one read their stuff anymore. Instead, black market erotica was rampant.

Below the shelves, glass drawers were filled with cigarettes. The next drawer held many mechanical USBs.

At that moment, he heard Boss Xiao and Duse speaking again.

“Nice kid. Madame Duse, stingy as always, giving me a gift must mean this business is serious.”
The sound of a lighter flared, smoke thickened.

“Just picked him up,” Duse giggled. “But what I’m asking you to make isn’t easy.”

“Anything’s fine,” Boss Xiao sounded casual. “If you pay enough.”

“You might not dare do this one,” Duse said lazily.

Boss Xiao: “Add enough money and I dare anything.”

Duse sneered, then spoke three words:

“The Judge,” she said. “Dare you make one?”

An Zhe froze. He didn’t understand how the word “Judge” could be connected to these two black market people.

Boss Xiao went silent too.

Eventually, he said, “I only make dead people, not living ones. Too much trouble. You’re asking for the biggest kind.”

“Honestly, I’ve got a friend who’s crazy in love with that colonel,” Duse said. “She insists on getting him. You know no one dares get within three meters of the Judge. We’ve got no choice but to ask you to make a fake one. Just to keep at home and play with. No trouble. Price is up to you.”

Boss Xiao just smiled and said nothing.

Meanwhile, An Zhe slowly wandered deeper into the shop.

He stumbled, kicking something.

Looking down, he saw a pale white human hand lying alone on the cement floor. It looked freshly severed, but the cut was smooth and clean—no flesh or blood.

An Zhe squatted and poked it. Soft, like a human hand—but fake.

So he stood up again.

As he did, his eyes met those of someone in a glass case.
In the dim light, a pair of pitch-black eyes stared at him, half the body lost in darkness—unnerving.

An Zhe looked at him for a long time—three minutes—and still saw no sign of breathing.

Maybe, like the hand, it was fake, he thought.

“Scared?” Boss Xiao’s voice suddenly came from behind him.

An Zhe: “Not really.”

Boss Xiao: “Look real?”

An Zhe: “Yes.”

Boss Xiao chuckled hoarsely, then flipped a switch. The lights brightened.

An Zhe finally saw the man in the display case clearly.
Wearing black, tall and lean, with sharp, handsome features. The light reflected off his face in a faint white glow, adding a fierce chill to his appearance.

“Head of AR137 mercenary team, Hubbard. Ever heard of him?” Boss Xiao asked.

An Zhe said nothing.

“He’s one of the best mercs around. Went into five-star danger zones like it was nothing. Rich, right?”

An Zhe: “Mm.”
He knew materials brought back from outside could be exchanged for base currency—elite mercs lacked for nothing.

Boss Xiao pointed at the man in the case. “That’s his vice-captain. They grew up together. Became mercs as adults. Twenty years of life-and-death bond. Last mission, the guy died—nothing left, not even a body. Tragic.”

He chuckled again. “Three months later, Hubbard came to me. Like a ghost. Spent most of his fortune to buy this replica. Not a hair allowed out of place.”

“I didn’t dare mess it up. Except not being alive, everything’s the same.” Boss Xiao sighed. “Guy’s gonna live the rest of his life staring at a fake person.”

“I used to make these just for fun. Inflatable toys. Then people said mine looked real. The more people die outside, the easier it is to go mad. So my skills got valuable.” Boss Xiao patted An Zhe’s shoulder. “Learn from me for ten years, you’ll be richer than any merc.”

An Zhe thought of his earlier conversation with Duse and asked, “So… you’ll make the Judge?”

“Why not?” Boss Xiao laughed. “The great Judge is too busy killing people. He won’t bother with this kind of crap.”