Chapter 137

Silverlight City, winter.

The sky was a dull gray, and the biting wind made it feel like the winter of 2024 would never end.

The smog had reduced visibility to almost nothing, barely twenty feet. The few cars on the street had their headlights on, cutting through the fog like searchlights in a post-apocalyptic scene.

The memories were so vivid.

Over twenty years ago, after the fire at the old steel mill, Joseph, who was still trying to change his body's estrogen levels, had survived by hiding in a storage room, dressed in girls' clothes.

It was Frank who had placed him there when the fire broke out.

"Don't come out. This is the farthest corner of the old steel mill. The storage room has a vent, so you'll get fresh air and won't suffocate. If the fire ends and everyone else is dead, I'll come find you, and we'll leave this place together. Listen, Joseph, you can't die."

He stayed put, unmoving, as the flames roared and the cries for help filled his ears.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he saw, through the cracks, glowing objects moving around in the smoke-filled, low-visibility environment, like the eyes of monsters. He was terrified and covered his mouth to stay silent.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Several flashlight beams pierced the darkness. He instinctively closed his eyes, his delicate face and long eyelashes making him look like a fragile porcelain doll awaiting its fate.

After a long while, he opened his beautiful eyes and looked up at the police officers.

They stared at the long-haired child in girls' clothes, puzzled by the small lump forming in his throat.

"Are you a boy or a girl?"

He didn't answer, his eyes wide as he looked at the charred remains of the room. The blockage in his chest suddenly burst free.

He cried out, "I'm a boy!"

The locked hotel door was finally unlocked.

In the smoggy weather, visibility was extremely low.

Through the gray haze, the scattered car lights flickered faintly.

Joseph frowned, the fragments of his memory making him uncomfortable.

He had never escaped the old steel mill. After the fire, the police took him away, and thanks to Ronald's maneuvering, he soon found himself in Shadow City.

The door from his childhood memories, which he thought led to freedom, turned out to be just a transfer to another prison.

Fate had sentenced him to life imprisonment in its own name.

Joseph stepped out of the hotel door.

His steps were steady and firm, with no hint of post-trauma relief or relaxation.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. There were only a few left. Every time he smoked, Evelyn would softly nag him. He hesitated but lit one anyway.

Joseph exhaled a puff of smoke, the mist swirling around him.

Someone was waiting for him ahead. When he saw the person, Joseph smiled and walked over leisurely.

The man in the black trench coat looked sharp, with his hair slicked back and gold-rimmed glasses, exuding an air of high society. The Maybach beside him underscored his status.

"Not mad at me?" Tom smiled as he saw Joseph, speaking lightly.

"Fuck you!" Joseph laughed and cursed, the two men sharing a knowing high-five and a light punch to each other's chests.

Tom said, "Hop in. I'll take you to see Frank."

"No." Joseph replied.

Tom gave him a puzzled look.

Joseph didn't say anything, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and blowing smoke rings at the Maybach, squinting at the car that so many young people dreamed of.

He suddenly chuckled and said, "What? I've been meaning to ask you, is this car really yours? You used to drive it around, showing off, and I always wanted to ask but never did."

"What do you think?" Tom smiled, looking at his old friend. "Once everything's over, you can drive this car. Take Evelyn for a spin."

"No." Joseph scoffed, rolling his eyes at Tom, looking like someone who didn't understand the value of money, and said, "I can't even afford the gas!"

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. The boy who once pretended to be a girl had now become a confident man, albeit a bit rough around the edges.

"Ronald's been arrested." Tom's voice carried a barely contained excitement.

Joseph paused, nodding without speaking, but his demeanor changed. He leaned against the car, staring at the nearly finished cigarette, lost in thought.

"All these years, Frank and I have been gathering evidence of Ronald's crimes, waiting for this day. Frank filed a formal complaint, and the evidence was solid. The state has issued a warrant, and Laura has been exonerated."

Tom's pride was evident as he reached out for a cigarette.

"You smoke?" Joseph asked.

"Are you kidding me? Who gave me my first cigarette?" Tom laughed, clearly in a good mood.

Joseph pulled out his pack, offering three cigarettes to Tom.

This was their college habit-sharing half their cigarettes when one was out.

Tom took one, lighting it up. The cheap cigarette was harsh on his throat, but he enjoyed it. He rarely smoked, only on special occasions, like a victor celebrating with champagne and cigars.

"These three cigarettes, one for you, one for Frank, and one for Alan. Make sure they get them."

The last cigarette in the pack was for himself, a common practice among smokers.

Joseph lit his final cigarette.

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, sensing something off about Joseph today.

"Nothing. I know where Alan is. I'm not an idiot. Those two have been at it their whole lives. Just give it to them. They'll understand."

Joseph leaned against the Maybach, squinting, and after a long pause, he said, "Do you think Frank did all this for us, for himself, or for Laura?"