Little Pink Starfish

“No,” An Zhe softly said.

He handed the work manual to Lu Feng. Lu Feng raised an eyebrow and accepted it.
“There are also clothes.” He took off his coat and handed it to Lu Feng as well, saying, “Thank you.”

Lu Feng draped the coat over his arm and looked down at An Zhe.
“No need to wait for me,” An Zhe said. “Just leave it at the city gate.”

An Zhe didn’t respond. He and Lu Feng looked at each other for a few seconds. He cautiously asked, “Are you… okay?”
Lu Feng looked away. “I’m fine.”
His tone was calm, as if nothing had just happened.

An Zhe: “…Oh.”
He continued asking, “Where are you going?”

Lu Feng looked at him. The pair of cold green eyes, filled with scrutiny, always made An Zhe think of something frigid. Along with the strong night wind in the city, having just taken off his warm coat, An Zhe shivered slightly.

Lu Feng reached out and threw the coat back into An Zhe’s arms.
“Don’t know,” he said. “Let’s get you back first.”

An Zhe hugged the coat and draped it over himself again. After he got dressed, Lu Feng stepped forward, and An Zhe followed.

The road was split by a parade of demonstrators. Their expressions were stern, lips tightly pressed down, still holding banners and flyers. The wind rustled the papers noisily.
Everyone silently watched them — a tense stance, as the green, purple, and orange auroras lit up their faces, blending with their skin into a strange metallic hue.

From some of those eyes, An Zhe saw vivid hatred and wary vigilance—if it weren’t for Lu Feng’s gun and his licensed right to kill, they looked capable of doing anything.
Those same eyes also fell on An Zhe—perhaps more of them were looking at him than at Lu Feng. Instinctively, An Zhe moved closer to Lu Feng. He understood now why Lu Feng insisted on escorting him back—he had approached the adjudicator voluntarily, and the opposition now stared at him like wolves.

Fortunately, although the crowd was sizable, it wasn’t large compared to the whole city. In less than five minutes, they exited the protest area and stepped onto the residential streets.

Buildings towered in the residential district. The auroras cast deep shadows on the ground, and the grey cement roads were sliced by light and shadow into patches of black and grey. The shadows of An Zhe and Lu Feng stretched long, overlapping with the uneven patches.

An Zhe didn’t know what to say to Lu Feng, and Lu Feng didn’t speak either.

Even at night, this place wasn’t quiet. A military truck rumbled past them, stopping at a fork in the road. The door opened, and residents who had taken shelter behind the city gates were released, guided by soldiers and a city office worker in a white shirt with a clipboard into buildings for resettlement.

A man asked the soldiers, “How long do we have to take shelter?”
The soldier replied, “Depends on the situation.”
Another resident asked, “They said only District 6 is safe. Can you guarantee it stays that way?”
The soldier answered, “No confirmed info yet. Wait for the Lighthouse’s research report.”
“I…” Someone wanted to ask more, but the soldier immediately interrupted, “Follow me, quickly.”

Footsteps clattered as the group entered the building.
An Zhe looked up at the number on the upper right of the building—this was Building 55.

Lu Feng didn’t stop walking, nor did An Zhe. Thirty meters ahead, they reached Building 56.

Building 56—
Something stirred inside An Zhe. He looked up at the number, then at the dark entrance in the center of the building.
This area was close to the quarantine gate. Since the army was already settling people into Building 55, Building 56 would likely be next.

Lu Feng’s voice came, “Want to go in?”
An Zhe shook his head.

Lu Feng said blandly, “Go if you want to.”
An Zhe: “.”

He suspected adjudicators were trained in telepathy.

He said, “Then… let’s go.”

Lu Feng turned and walked toward Building 56. An Zhe walked beside him, pulling an ID card from his coat pocket as they went.
The card bore a number: 3260563209, meaning Unit 3, Floor 2, Room 09 in Building 56.
This wasn’t An Zhe’s room, and the card wasn’t his—it belonged to Fansi, the one who brought him to the Northern Base.

One day, after Fansi’s corpse was carried away, the soldiers gave this card to An Zhe as a keepsake. He had kept it ever since.

An Zhe used the card to open the door—it still worked, which meant the base hadn’t reclaimed the room. He walked in and turned on the light.
It was a simple room. The blanket was tossed loosely on the bed, as if the owner had just gotten up and left. On the table sat daily items: a water cup, a cigarette box, a lighter—this was Fansi’s home.

A month had passed since Fansi’s death. Understanding why, knowing he might be infected, Fansi still… after seeing so much death and fear, passed this building again. An Zhe felt that something inside him…

He was driven by instinct, risking death to search for spores in the base. Perhaps humans couldn’t understand his motivation. But unlike monsters ruled by instinct, humans are often ruled by emotion. They do unreasonable things without much justification. If one understands this, they wouldn’t question human behavior.

An Zhe thought this and lightly placed the ID card down.

He turned and left.

Lu Feng’s gaze fell on An Zhe like a snowflake drifting downward—it seemed slightly different than before.

“I now subjectively believe you are human,” Lu Feng said, turning to leave.

An Zhe quietly followed, not wanting to make a sound—so the adjudicator really had always, continuously, constantly doubted whether he was human.

Back on the road, Lu Feng’s communicator rang. The doctor’s voice came through.

“The detector has been deployed in the city gate trial process. It has helped stabilize resident emotions. Tomorrow, the Lighthouse will send five more units. But we’re still short. Colonel, you might have to return.”
“I know,” Lu Feng replied coolly. “I’ll go back during the day.”
“Thank you. Rest well tonight.” The doctor paused, then added, “Director Howard is dead. What’s next? You’re the only colonel with executive power left in the outer city. The city office colonel is a civil officer—he’s already losing hair just managing emergency supplies.”

“The Tribunal will temporarily take over city defense. All troops are to be used for rescue operations for now,” Lu Feng said. “After Judgment Day, we hope the Lighthouse can help us develop a plan to restart the dispersal devices.”

“Of course,” the doctor replied.

Lu Feng ended the call and began another, coordinating with the Tribunal. An Zhe perked his ears quietly. The adjudicator’s phrasing was as concise and his tone as cold and decisive as always. A lot had happened tonight, yet Lu Feng still seemed like the same person.

An Zhe turned to look at his side profile. From the doctor’s words, it sounded like Lu Feng would return to the city gate tomorrow. And Lu Feng himself hadn’t denied it.
A young adjudicator once said the colonel was fighting unfathomable monsters—maybe Lu Feng was used to it.

His only unusual act tonight was walking away from that room.

When the call ended, they had arrived at Building 117. Lu Feng seemed to know the way better than An Zhe. They reached Door 14 smoothly. Inside, everything was as usual—except for one item missing from beside the wall.
—Even if you gave An Zhe ten times the courage, he wouldn’t dare ask where that doll went after it was confiscated.

An Zhe asked Lu Feng at the door, “Would you like to come in and sit for a bit?”

“No,” Lu Feng replied. “You should rest.”

An Zhe hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Uh… where will you go?”

Lu Feng slightly frowned, as if thinking.
After a brief pause, he said, “Don’t know.”

The communicator showed it was already 11 p.m. An Zhe did the math and realized—the colonel had likely not rested for nearly 40 hours.

He knew today’s events were urgent. Much was arranged last minute by Lu Feng and Howard. They had worked hard to settle the residents into District 6. But soldiers, Tribunal members, and city defense workers probably still lacked offices or homes. Some were likely just resting near the gate.

He felt that Lu Feng probably didn’t want to go back to the gate tonight.

An Zhe was conflicted.
His fingers clenched unconsciously, lips pressed together.

Lu Feng: “What’s wrong?”
His voice was low. The corridor lights were dim. Maybe due to the lighting, his features didn’t seem as sharp and intimidating as usual.

An Zhe steeled himself.

Even if it was only for the spores, he had to build a better relationship with the colonel.

“If… if you don’t have anywhere to go,” An Zhe looked up at Lu Feng, “you can stay here.”