Travel through time, and then establish an anomaly management bureau!

Page 61

On both sides of the narrow, muddy alleyway are makeshift shacks haphazardly built from broken planks, rusty iron sheets, broken bricks, and even discarded canvas, so low they almost press down on your head.

Sewage flowed freely along the natural gullies in the ground, emitting a nauseating, sour stench. The air was thick with the smell of cheap coal smoke, rotting garbage, and a...sick odor.

Several emaciated children played barefoot by the sewage, their eyes vacant.

An old man huddled on a tattered straw mat in the corner, covered with a cloth whose original color was indistinguishable; it was unclear whether he was dead or alive. Through some open doorways, several people could be seen crammed inside, with almost no decent furniture, only piles of rags and miscellaneous items. The walls were covered with mottled stains and graffiti.

This is a corner completely forgotten by the bustling city of Mystic, the deepest and darkest shadow cast by steam and steel behemoths.

After winding and turning until the noise of the main alley could no longer be heard, the hand finally let go and pulled him into a dead-end corner filled with discarded wooden barrels.

Zhang Su then recognized the person who had pulled him away—it was the same boy who had robbed him earlier, Terry.

Terry, panting heavily, his face a mixture of fear and anger, roared at Zhang Su in a low voice, "Sir! You were incredibly reckless! How dare you scatter money at the entrance of the Rusty Ditch! Do you think they'll be grateful and leave? No! This will be like blood dripping into a shark tank, attracting the greediest and most desperate people in the entire district! Soon it won't be begging, it'll be robbery!"

Zhang Su straightened his wrinkled sleeves, looked at the somewhat nervous boy in front of him, and smiled: "Terry? I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Hello."

"Hello?! How dare you say 'hello' at a time like this?!" Terry was almost driven mad by his reaction. "If I had arrived any later, you would probably have been stripped of all your valuables, and it's hard to say whether you would have even walked out unscathed!"

"This is my first time in the slums, I don't have much experience, thank you for your help." Zhang Su apologized readily, his tone sincere, but the relaxed smile on his face made Terry feel like he had punched a cotton ball.

Seeing his expression, Terry swallowed back all the words of reprimand he had in mind. He opened his mouth, but in the end, all he could manage was a weak sigh, muttering, "I really don't know how you've survived this long!"

He looked Zhang Su up and down before asking with some doubt, "So, what are you doing in a place like Rusty Ditch, a wealthy man like you?"

“I’m here to explore,” Zhang Su said frankly. “I’ve heard a strange tale about the ‘end of the river’ here, and I want to go and find it.”

"By the way, my name is Zhang Su."

"The end of the river?" Terry's eyes instantly became suspicious. He scanned Zhang Su from head to toe several times, paying particular attention to the brand-new boots on his feet, which, although relatively clean, were clearly cheap and durable.

The boy's face showed an "I understand" expression, tinged with sympathy and understanding, as he cautiously asked, "Mr. Zhang Su... are you... um... bankrupt? Is that why you're thinking of trying your luck to find that legendary treasure?"

Zhang Su was taken aback by this peculiar line of thought and chuckled, "Hey, that's very rude... Can't you just say you want to go on an adventure?"

“Impossible!” Terry shook his head decisively, pointing to his feet. “Look, you’ve even changed your shoes! The last time I saw you, you were wearing shiny, high-end leather shoes! These new ones, though new, are the kind of practical shoes that only people around here would wear. You must have fallen on hard times and are too embarrassed to say it.”

Zhang Su looked down at his new boots, speechless for a moment. This misunderstanding was really deep, but he couldn't explain that he had replaced the shoes because he had worn them out from running too fast.

He had no choice but to go along with it, vaguely replying, "...Well, I am a little short on cash lately. So, could you take me to see the end of that river?"

Upon hearing this, Terry's expression of "I knew it" softened even more. He sighed, "Well, whatever. Every day, there are skeptics or desperate people like you who come to it. Come with me."

As he spoke, he turned around to lead the way.

Zhang Su stepped forward and asked, "By the way, do I need to pay you for your tour guide service?"

Terry abruptly stopped and turned around, his face revealing obvious dissatisfaction and indignation for the first time: "Mr. Zhang Su! What kind of person do you take me for? The kind of scoundrel who's obsessed with money and takes advantage of others' misfortunes? You already gave us so much money last time, enough for us to use for a long time! How could I possibly be so greedy as to ask you for more money!"

The boy's tone was agitated because Zhang Su's words had insulted his self-esteem!

Zhang Su was slightly taken aback, then realized what was going on, and sincerely apologized: "I'm sorry, Terry, I misspoke. Thank you for your help."

Terry's expression softened slightly. He turned his head and said in a low voice, "It's nothing. Just follow me. That road is difficult to travel, and it's very strange. You have to be careful."

After saying that, he took the lead and crawled out of the corner full of wooden barrels, leading Zhang Su towards the deeper part of the rusty ditch.

Leaving the relatively "lively" edge of the slums, Terry led Zhang Su into narrower, darker alleyways. The air here was even more polluted, and the ground was no longer muddy, but rather a layer of almost solidified garbage mixed with all sorts of indescribable filth, making a crunching sound when stepped on.

“Terry.” Zhang Su asked, dodging the rusty iron pipes hanging overhead for some unknown purpose, “Why are you staying ‘at home’ today? Didn’t you go out to find some work?” He remembered that this boy used to make a living by “trying his luck” and doing odd jobs on the outskirts.

Terry paused at the corner ahead, his voice muffled by the debris: "...Well, I had something to do today, so I stayed." He answered vaguely, without elaborating.

"Oh?" Zhang Su asked calmly, "Can you tell me what it is?"

Terry’s clearly resistant voice came from the front: “It’s too easy to say, sir.”

Zhang Su didn't press the matter further: "Alright, everyone has secrets. I won't ask anymore."

Terry also said, "Thank you for your understanding, sir. The road we're taking now is on higher ground; it used to be a small path for transporting garbage. Not many people know about it. Although it's a bit difficult to walk, it's fast and it avoids the people on the main road."

"If you take the main road down there, someone as important as you would probably be surrounded by several layers of people immediately. It seems there are quite a few people trying their luck at the 'end' today."

"I'll do whatever you say, you're the guide," Zhang Su agreed.

The two walked in silence for a while, then climbed a steep slope made of broken wooden boxes and discarded bricks and stones.

Standing at the top of the slope, the view suddenly opens up.

They were currently on the "rooftop" level of a shantytown, with undulating roofs cobbled together from various materials beneath their feet. Not far below them, a much wider but equally muddy dirt road stretched forward.

As Terry said, the road was bustling with people.

Zhang Su's gaze swept across the scene, taking in faces crushed by poverty and hardship. Men, women, young and old alike were present, most dressed in rags, their eyes numb yet gleaming with a desperate glimmer. Like an invisible flock of sheep, they moved silently and stubbornly in the same direction, forming a somber, murky flow of people.

The number of people was so large that it almost blocked the road, stretching out into the depths of the rusty ditch.

"Have there always been so many people searching for 'the end of the river'?" Zhang Su asked softly, gazing at the silent yet vast procession below.

The scene was more spectacular than he had imagined, and also more somber.

Terry stood beside him, also looking down, his small face expressionless, only showing a kind of indifferent detachment: "It's always been like this. When has Migai ever lacked people who can't survive? Factories may close down, wages may be delayed, but the gangs' protection money will never be shortchanged."

"Anyway, if we stay poor, we'll just starve to death, freeze to death, or die of illness in some stinking ditch with no one to collect our bodies. In comparison, why not try our luck at 'the end of the river'? What if the legend is true? At least we can dream of getting rich before we die."

His tone was so calm, as if he were simply stating that the weather was bad today, conveying a sense of normalcy.

“That’s certainly true.” Zhang Su remained silent for a moment before responding in this way.

In the face of absolute despair, any rational risk assessment seems pale and powerless.

He changed the subject: "When you came to 'explore' before, how far did you go?"

“We’ll only get to the mine entrance.” Terry pointed in the direction the crowd was heading. “That river flows out of a huge mine. The entrance is really weird. You can feel the chill from far away, ten times colder than the coldest time of winter! We’ve tried it, no matter how many clothes we wear, it’s no use. The cold air can penetrate right into your bones. If you stay there any longer, you feel like your blood is going to freeze.”

He paused, a barely perceptible fear creeping into his voice: "And it's pitch black inside, not a single light. The wind blows out with a mournful sound, like many people crying inside. We didn't dare go in. Most of the others didn't dare either; they just wandered around the entrance, offered their prayers and blessings for good fortune, and then went back."

“But I saw it with my own eyes,” Terry’s tone became unusually serious. He turned to look at Zhang Su, “I saw a few guys who looked pretty tough, carrying all sorts of professional gear like windproof lights and thick blankets, grit their teeth and go in. And then… they never came out again. Not a single one.”

He stared into Zhang Su's eyes, almost pleading, and said, "So, Mr. Zhang Su, when we get there, just take a look and don't even think about going in! There's absolutely no treasure inside, only man-eating monsters or worse! Nobody will collect your corpse!"

Zhang Su met the boy's worried gaze, nodded, and said solemnly, "Don't worry, Terry. I value my life. I'm just here to check on things. I won't do anything foolish."

Terry seemed slightly relieved, but the worry in his eyes hadn't completely disappeared: "That's good. Let's go, we're almost there."

For the rest of the journey, neither of them spoke again.

The only sounds were the faint rustling of footsteps on the waste and the indistinct buzzing of the crowds coming from the road below.

After traveling for a while longer, the damp, putrid smell in the air seemed to have undergone a subtle change, gaining a faint, strange, and refreshing quality.

Terry stopped behind a broken wall and said in a low voice, "We're here, sir. Just turn right ahead. Take a look for yourself, but be careful not to get too close to the river."

Following the direction he pointed, Zhang Su cautiously peeked out.

Before us lies a relatively open depression. Here, a main river, clearly filthy and littered with all sorts of garbage, branches off into a narrower tributary.

The scene before them was just as eerie as described in the legends—

The murky river water, carrying rotten vegetable leaves, wood chips, and even suspicious animal carcasses, rushed into that tributary.

However, a miraculous scene occurred: all the filth disappeared without a trace as soon as it entered the tributary within a range of about one or two meters, as if it had been instantly cleaned up by an invisible and extremely efficient filtering hand!

After flowing into the tributaries, the river water becomes incredibly clear and transparent, even reflecting a crystal-clear luster in the dim light, like a piece of flowing crystal.

The pebbles under the riverbed were clearly visible, and the river was incredibly clean.

It forms an absurd contrast with the filthy and foul-smelling mainstream next to it, as if there is an invisible line that clearly distinguishes between "filth" and "purity".

The pure river flowed gently, its destination the distant entrance to the enormous mine pit that exuded an ominous chill.

Zhang Su stared at this strange sight that defied the laws of nature, thinking to himself: If this powerful purification ability could be used in a controlled manner, its value to this potentially heavily polluted industrial city would probably far exceed any illusory treasure of gold.

Of course, the prerequisite is that we can solve the problem of those "things" that walk on the riverbed on the night of the full moon, which are hidden behind this purification phenomenon.

Seeing this, he couldn't help but exclaim to Terry, "This river is simply a miracle! It can purify all filth! If it could be used for industrial production, this city would be free from all pollution!"

Terry said, "Yes, many people have thought that way, but unfortunately it's impossible. Because the city government of Miga has declared that no commercial use or sewage discharge is allowed on this river, and everything can only be left to nature."

Volume 2: Chapter 16: Prospecting, Territory, Conflict

Zhang Su followed behind local guide Terry, walking along the bank of the crystal-clear "Clean Water River," which seemed out of place in the polluted environment.

The river flowed quietly, reflecting the gray sky, and the pebbles on the riverbed were clearly visible, like a transparent ribbon left behind in a filthy place.

Zhang Su asked Terry, "Has the municipal government given specific reasons for prohibiting the use of this section of the river for sewage discharge or commercial purposes?"

Terry said, "They gave it to us, of course they gave it to us! When officials do things, they always have to give an explanation." He stopped and pointed to a mottled wooden sign standing by the water not far away, "Look, that sign, it says it clearly and plainly."

The two approached the wooden sign. Most of the paint on the sign had peeled off, but the characters were still barely legible.

Zhang Su stared intently at it and saw that it was written in rather formal common language:

Municipal Announcement: Explanation of the Water Purification Phenomenon

After repeated investigations and studies commissioned by the municipal government, experts confirmed that the unusually clear and pure water quality in this section of the river is the result of the combined effects of special geological structures and hydrological environment. Water carrying sediment from upstream flows through this area, where the lower layer of the riverbed consists of several layers of dense sandstone, conglomerate, and a natural filtration layer rich in special minerals (including but not limited to activated diatomite and natural zeolite). This results in significant physical adsorption and ion exchange. In addition, the high groundwater level in this area and the presence of natural springs dilute the water, leading to the sedimentation of suspended solids and the efficient interception and purification of pollutants.

Meanwhile, specific anaerobic bacteria in the riverbed possess a unique ability to degrade organic pollutants... This natural purification process is complex and precise, representing a rare balance in geology and ecology, and is not caused by any supernatural factors.

To protect this unique geological and hydrological phenomenon, any form of sewage discharge, water intake, or commercial development is strictly prohibited in this section of the river.

—Ministry of Environment and Public Affairs of the city of Peru.

Zhang Su's gaze swept over those difficult-to-understand terms—"dense sandstone," "conglomerate," "active diatomite," "natural zeolite," "physical adsorption," "ion exchange," "anaerobic bacteria," and "organic pollutants"—and his brows furrowed involuntarily.

These words brought back memories of his junior and senior high school days.

“…sandstone…zeolite…ion exchange…anaerobic bacteria…” Zhang Su repeated a few words in a low voice, his expression revealing a sense of nostalgia. “These words are so familiar, they instantly bring back memories of my youth…”

Then, he rubbed his temples, feeling a slight dizziness.

If he hadn't clearly sensed that beneath the eerily clear river water emanated an unnatural, subtly distorted "abnormal" aura, like cold threads binding his senses, he would almost have been convinced by this seemingly "scientific" explanation.

Seeing Zhang Su's reaction, Terry chuckled, revealing a set of healthy teeth: "That's right, you don't understand! Mr. Zhang, let me tell you, nine and a half out of ten people around here can't even write their own names properly, and the remaining half who can read, like me—" He patted his chest, "can barely recognize a road sign. I recognize most of the words on this sign, but what do they all mean together? Damn, it's more sleep-inducing than listening to an old pastor reciting scripture! Stones, sand, bacteria, it's giving me a headache!"

He spat on the ground, curling his lip in disdain: "Besides, who here doesn't believe in gods? Purifying sewage with stones and invisible bugs? That's a joke! Everyone just thinks it's a big fart from the municipal government officials, it'll just stink and blown away by the wind, who's going to take it seriously?"

Zhang Su nodded in deep agreement, his gaze returning to the almost unrealistically clear river surface: "Indeed. If it were me, seeing the sewage flow in and the clean water flow out with my own eyes, and then hearing this explanation... I wouldn't believe it either."

He then changed the subject and asked a more practical question: "Have you, or anyone who lives here, drunk this river water? How did it feel? Is it harmful to your health?"

“Drink it! Of course we’ll drink it!” Terry said as if it were a matter of course. “This water is crystal clear, it doesn’t taste weird, and it even tastes quite sweet. It’s much better than the murky water with a rusty taste that we usually buy from water vendors! People in Rusty Ditch, as long as they live nearby, rely on this river for washing clothes, cooking, taking care of their bodily functions… uh, no, I mean, for eating, drinking, and washing! Buying water? It’s not worth it!”

As they talked, the two continued walking along the riverbank. The path became more rugged and muddy, and the density of the surrounding shacks seemed to have thinned out, but the environment was more dilapidated and desolate.

The faint, "abnormal" aura in the air seemed to intensify as they ventured deeper.

Zhang Su gazed at the river winding its way into the darker area ahead and asked, "Terry, how far is it to the entrance of that mine?"

Terry wiped the sweat from his forehead, squinted, and estimated: "Not far, sir. Just another two or three kilometers, and we'll be there. You see, the river is starting to turn in that direction."

“Hmm.” Zhang Su stopped and took out a few shiny gold fennel coins from his pocket and handed them to Terry. “I can walk the rest of the way by myself. You can go back now.”

Terry refused, saying, "Mr. Zhang, at this hour... I'm not in a hurry to get back to work. Besides, a little further ahead, it'll get busier. Mostly guys scavenging for trash by the river, or those still trying to peek in. Your attire..."

He looked Zhang Su up and down, noting that his clothes, though understated, were clearly of good quality. “They’re too eye-catching. If I weren’t there to block them, you would have been surrounded by those hungry wolves begging for money as soon as you went over there. It would have been so annoying. Anyway, we’re almost there. I can walk with you to the cave entrance before we go.”

Zhang Su considered the scene Terry had described and sensed the noisy atmosphere brought by the gathering crowd ahead. He indeed felt it was a problem. He nodded: "Alright, then I'll trouble you for a bit more of the journey."

Sure enough, after walking less than a kilometer, the number of people on both sides of the riverbank suddenly increased.

The ragged crowd, like moss clinging to the riverbank, either tried to sift out something valuable with broken tools in the shallow water, or squatted in groups of three or five on the bank, their eyes blank or greedy as they stared at the clear riverbed, seemingly hoping to find lost gold coins or legendary treasures.

Many more people, as Terry described, moved slowly along the river, either silently or whispering, towards the upstream mine, forming a somber flow of people.

“Stay close to me, sir, and don’t make a sound,” Terry whispered, stepping aside to shield Zhang Su from the scrutinizing and greedy gazes directed at him.

He squeezed into a corner of the crowd, gesturing for Zhang Su to follow closely behind.

However, the effect was limited. Zhang Su's unique temperament and attire, like a firefly in the dark, quickly attracted the attention of some people.

Several malicious gazes swept over, and some people began to get restless and wanted to get closer.

Zhang Su's eyes narrowed slightly, and he quickly reached into the inner pocket of his coat, taking out a pair of cool, smooth black gloves from the void—the Shadow Gloves.

He casually put it on his left hand. A chilling sensation instantly spread from his fingertips to his wrist, as if he were holding a small piece of winter ice in his hand.

The moment the gloves were put on, a miraculous change occurred.

The gazes directed at him and fixed on him seemed to be gently brushed by an invisible, flowing shadow, becoming blurred and scattered, and his presence faded away as quickly as ripples.

The figures that were moving toward him paused, their faces showing a hint of confusion, as if they had suddenly forgotten what they were supposed to do, or why their goal seemed somewhat unclear. Their attention was quickly drawn away to other, more "obvious" things.

Zhang Su, blending into the crowd, was, in the eyes of ordinary people, just a slightly out-of-place, but not particularly noteworthy, blurry figure.

However, this weakening of presence is bidirectional.