My Avatar is Becoming the Ultimate BOSS
Chapter 87 - 76: Sharing

Chapter 87: Chapter 76: Sharing

"Restricted Superpower User, Serial Number 1002—’Ji Minghuan’, get up quickly and get ready, the mentor has something to convey."

Blinked a few times.

What met the eyes was the unchanging silver-white ceiling and the ever-present surveillance camera.

The harsh cold light poured down like a bug net over a dining table, making it hard to tell if one was the bug or the meal on the table.

Ji Minghuan stared at the surveillance camera for quite a while before slowly looking away.

If the Salvation Society considered redesigning the camera into the shape of a penguin, his morning grumpiness might be halved.

"Kong Youling and Filio will come over soon, get ready," the mentor’s gentle voice came through the ceiling broadcast equipment.

"Couldn’t you have informed me earlier?" Ji Minghuan frowned as he rose from the bed.

Dragging his skeleton-thin body, he quickly made his way to the entrance.

Looking down, he saw two trays on the silver-white floor, one with toast and milk, the other with toiletries. He bent down, picked up the second tray from the floor, and jogged into the restroom connected to the confinement room.

Turning on the faucet, he rinsed the towel and wiped his face, then applied toothpaste to the toothbrush and brushed his teeth, not sparing even a molar.

Amidst the sound of splashing water, he lifted his head to study the pale, gaunt face in the mirror. Standing on his tiptoes, he compared his height to the mirror’s, realizing he seemed to have grown taller...

That’s normal, at twelve, it’s a growth period.

Though being confined in such a place is indeed not conducive to physical growth.

The food from the experimenters was nutritious and varied, textbook-level healthy, but in this place, he found everything unappetizing, compared to the roasted sweet potatoes he ate with other kids at the Welfare Institute.

Unless starving, sometimes food needs to be shared with someone nearby to taste good, much like how people drink for the atmosphere at night.

Soon enough, Ji Minghuan washed his face, brushed his teeth, ignoring his tangled hair, convincing himself that messy was a kind of beauty—every lazy person would say so to themselves.

Just as two minutes passed, a sound came from outside, the metal door opened, Ji Minghuan lay back on the bed pretending to sleep, facing away from the confinement room’s door.

After a moment, a cold hand gently poked his nose, then a gauze-like sensation brushed his cheek, as if someone lowered their head, soft hair accidentally gliding across his face.

"You never used to wake me up," Ji Minghuan opened one eye to look at the white-haired girl, his mouth curling into a sly curve.

They faced each other, their noses nearly touching, like small animals meeting for the first time and pressing close.

He was curious why the mentor didn’t prohibit physical contact this time but temporarily put that question aside.

Kong Youling sat on the edge of the bed, writing with a pencil in her notebook, then lifted the notebook.

It read: "You’re pretending to sleep, that’s not how you sleep."

"You figured it out, you’re amazing." Ji Minghuan sat up, scratching his messy hair.

Under the cold light, Kong Youling lowered her red eyes, staring at him silently, then after a moment, handed him the notebook.

Curious, he flipped through two pages, seeing her doodles when bored:

An attic under the moonlight, two children sitting on a roof; the clock in the confinement room, seemingly stuck, with a small scribble beside: "Time passes so slowly, so slowly," accompanied by a cartoon figure, which upon closer inspection was Ji Minghuan dressed in hospital clothes, with fox ears added.

Ji Minghuan looked down quietly for a while, then wrote with a pencil in the notebook:

"Do you have a TV to watch there?"

"They gave me many discs and a CD player."

"That’s nice. It’s so boring here, I’m about to die of boredom... What have you watched, tell me about it?"

Kong Youling thought for a moment, writing in the notebook: "Masked Rider Ex-Aid, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Code Geass, Kamen Rider Amazons."

"Why does it all seem like stuff boys watch?" Ji Minghuan tilted his head.

"Can’t I watch them?" She held the notebook against the lower part of her face, her eyes fixed on him, her pale hair tickling the words on the notebook.

"Of course you can."

"I thought you’d like them too, so I watched them and can share them with you."

"I knew it, if I said I’ve seen them all, wouldn’t you have watched them for nothing?"

Kong Youling paused, then puffed her cheeks slightly, like a little snowman. They used to watch anime together in the computer room, with Ji Minghuan downloading them online.

So she intentionally selected CDs from the Salvation Society officials that they hadn’t watched together, only to hear him claim to have seen them all, he must have watched them secretly!

"Actually, I haven’t watched them," Ji Minghuan said, "I just mean, it’s fine to watch what you like. It’s too boring here, no need to do these things for me."

"It’s what I like," Kong Youling paused, shaking her head.

"Oh, that’s good," Ji Minghuan said, "Tell me about the plots, it won’t take much time."

So the two kids sat on the bed chatting about the plots and stories of those anime and tokusatsu series.

Kong Youling doodled in her notebook, while Ji Minghuan silently hugged a pillow, listening.

He occasionally clicked his tongue, using an exaggerated tone to critique the content she narrated: "This ’Kamen Rider Amazons’ is so bloody and dark, is this still Kamen Rider? This is just like Lu Xun’s ’A Madman’s Diary’, only about eating people."

Kong Youling asked him what he did there, and Ji Minghuan couldn’t say he lay around doing nothing like a dead man every day, so he claimed he was exercising enthusiastically, aspiring to be the next muscle pageant champion!

Then he attempted two push-ups on the bed, collapsing like he’d lost consciousness.

Lying on the bed, he turned his face away from Kong Youling’s gaze, actually wanting to say he had been learning to play International Chess and practicing the art of tying knots lately.

He really wanted to share those experiences from outside, say that he had seen Tokyo Tower!

Back when they flipped through travel magazines in the library, Kong Youling looked so focused, her eyes shimmering brightly.

Ji Minghuan wrote that when they left the Welfare Institute in the future, they would travel the world together and see it. But he had seen Tokyo Tower first, breaking their promise.

He also wanted to say... the feeling of having a family is quite strange, even if it’s just a fake family, bound to be exposed eventually, but it’s still interesting... having an all-caring brother, and a sister who can’t express but cares for him;

And of course, there’s an annoying dad, a deadbeat dad, a smelly dad, a rotten dad, he’d make a small voodoo doll tomorrow in the room to curse him—to not expose himself, he’d specially make a Ghost Bell version doll, so he could only keep quiet!

But whether interesting or terrible, none of these things could be spoken to her, thinking about this, Ji Minghuan’s eyes lowered, silently staring at the silver-white floor for a while... Clearly having someone to share with, yet only being able to keep words to oneself, to a kid, nothing is more sorrowful than that.

Yet he thought again: after leaving this lab someday, he could tell her all he had seen during this time, sharing everything without missing a beat.

Kong Youling tilted her head, her unblinking gaze on his silent profile, seemingly unsure of what he was thinking. After a while, she suddenly reached out and felt his forehead.

A cool sensation came from his forehead, Ji Minghuan stood still for a moment and turned back to look at Kong Youling.

"Sick?" Kong Youling wrote word by word, lifting the notebook.

Ji Minghuan shook his head, "Although it’s boring doing nothing here, it’s nice to see you."

The white-haired girl paused thoughtfully, then looked up, her pale hair gently swaying.

"Me too..." she said soundlessly without writing, "Those shows only become interesting when watching with you."

Just then, a loud noise drew both their attention, they turned their heads simultaneously.

At the entrance, the metal door swung open, and a boy in a black hospital gown appeared. Standing at the doorway, his head lowered, eyes lifeless and cold.

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