After breakfast, Chen Ci brought Jiang Dai to the tattoo shop on the commercial street.

Seeing Jiang Dai hesitate at the door, Chen Ci explained, “The clinic is downstairs from this shop.”

“You’ve been here before?” Jiang Dai asked.

“Yeah. A friend brought me once.”

That gave Jiang Dai a general idea of what kind of place this was. He followed Chen Ci into the narrow tattoo shop.

The shop itself was just a front—its real purpose was to provide cover for the clinic and black market below. Chen Ci pushed open the back door and led them down a staircase. The sharp scent of disinfectant slowly filled the air.

But before their footsteps even reached the clinic, Chen Ci’s mental power arrived first.

A quick scan confirmed that there were only a doctor and a nurse inside—safe enough.

Two years ago, Jiang Dai had brought a just-turned-sixteen Chen Nian from the Purification System to the 13th Information Processing Zone. Since then, he’d rarely gone out and didn’t even know a place like this existed.

Hearing footsteps descending the stairs, the doctor strolled out from the office. When he saw the figure wrapped in a cap and mask, he paused for a moment.

Wait—wasn’t this the kid who followed Fu Tianhe to the black market the other day?

The doctor still remembered the pitiful sight of Fu Tianhe’s bruised and swollen face, clinging to his terminal as if his life depended on a reply. The guy had even used up his emergency money for gene correction injections to buy someone else a transit pass.

And that was for an Omega he barely knew. Didn’t even know his name!

Honestly, the doctor couldn’t help but respect it in a way… and be a bit confused.

Thanks to that whole situation, the doctor now viewed Chen Ci with a complicated expression.

Unaware of any of this, Chen Ci said politely, “Hello. We’re here for an eye examination.”

The doctor glanced at Jiang Dai behind him—burn scars covering much of his body—and immediately knew who the patient was.

“What’s wrong with the eyes?”

“There was an old injury. Lately, his vision’s been getting worse and the field of view narrower,” Jiang Dai explained while taking a seat.

After asking a few more questions, the doctor had him go into the examination room for a battery of tests.

Chen Ci waited alone in the office. The walls were mottled like diseased skin, the clock on the wall ran four minutes and forty-three seconds fast, and a worn-out sofa exposed its stuffing through a tear. A human anatomy poster hung nearby, but his mental power detected a hidden compartment behind it.

The smell of disinfectant struggled to mask the strong scent of blood. A surgery must’ve been done not long ago. Despite its shady appearance, the clinic seemed well-equipped and competent—more reliable than it looked.

After about ten minutes, the doctor and Jiang Dai returned.

“He’s going blind. That much is certain,” the doctor said bluntly. “It wasn’t this bad originally, but the injury combined with prolonged smoke exposure—and no timely treatment—has made things worse. Medication alone can’t stop it anymore. The damage is irreversible at this point.”

That matched Chen Ci’s earlier guess.

The housekeeper who had once risked his life to save Chen Nian and raise him was now on the brink of blindness.

He should’ve been living in the spacious and sunlit Chen family estate, dressed in a crisp suit, and treated with respect and dignity—not sitting in a rundown black clinic, listening to an emotionless diagnosis about losing his sight.

If Chen Nian were the one standing here, hearing this… would he cry? Or would he hug Jiang Dai and try his best to comfort him?

Chen Ci blinked. His eyes were dry—not a single tear came. His heart was still, without even a ripple.

Jiang Dai accepted the diagnosis just as calmly. After all these years, he already knew what condition he was in.

“Of course, it’s not completely hopeless,” the doctor added. “There’s a new neural implant technique developed at the research institute. It’s had a few successful cases. If you’ve got the resources, it might be worth trying.”

Chen Ci asked, “Where would the surgery be done?”

“An advanced lab or one of the top hospitals in the upper zone. Only they have the cutting-edge tech for it.”

Chen Ci nodded, now aware of what needed to be done. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. If you rely on meds, you’ll maybe get another year out of it, tops. I suggest arranging surgery as soon as possible.”

Chen Ci thanked him again and paid the nurse at the front desk. As he was doing so, a woman with blood streaming from her shoulder limped in, her face twisted in pain.

The nurse didn’t flinch. “Payment first.”

Only after confirming the deposit had arrived did she go fetch the medical supplies and begin treating the wound.

Scenes like this played out countless times a day in the black clinic.

Chen Ci brought Jiang Dai home.

Though they hadn’t cured anything, they’d learned a lot.

Chen Ci didn’t know how advanced Chensha’s medical system was—his own checkups had always been handled by the research team at Base XII. But since the doctor said there was a solution, it meant there really was a way to delay the degeneration.

As long as they could get to a proper hospital in the upper zone.

The problem was, for years, Jiang Dai had lived with Chen Nian in hiding, deliberately choosing to live as an undocumented “ghost,” all to escape the upper levels and keep Chen Nian hidden from the world.

Yet he’d never changed Chen Nian’s name.

That had always puzzled Chen Ci. If they were going to such lengths to avoid detection, why not change the name too? That would’ve lowered the risk even more.

Given how meticulous Jiang Dai was, he couldn’t have overlooked something that simple.

Maybe there was a reason behind it?

Either way, having a solution was better than having none. The moment Chen Ci learned there was hope, he immediately told Chen Nian.

Chen Nian quickly replied:

[That’s amazing! I’ve been wanting to take Uncle Jiang for a checkup, but could never find the right place. Where did you go?]

Chen Ci:

[A black clinic. My friend had taken me there once.]

Chen Nian recognized it instantly:

[The one we passed on the way to the black market with Fu Tianhe?]

[Yeah.] Chen Ci typed,

[Now that we have a plan, let’s push forward. Talk to Shavri Vitaljevich. Ask him to help.]

If they were going to a top-tier hospital, they needed to go through official channels. That used to be near impossible, but with their identities swapped—and with Shavri Vitaljevich now in the loop—there was hope.

With the crown prince’s influence and skill, they could bring Jiang Dai up top for treatment while keeping his identity hidden.

Chen Ci and Chen Nian discussed next steps. If Jiang Dai was going to be taken up top, they’d have to tell him the truth about the identity swap.

Chen Ci:

[I think he already suspects something. He just hasn’t called us out yet.]

Chen Nian:

[He’s raised me all these years—if he didn’t figure it out, that’d be the weird part. Hmm… Since he hasn’t said anything yet, how about I tell him myself after I’m back?]

Chen Ci:

[Okay.]

It would indeed be better for Chen Nian to explain it himself—they were family. Chen Ci, after all, was just a substitute.

He put down the terminal and quietly let out a breath of relief. This was one big thing off his plate.

Now that everything was in place, it was finally time to do what he truly wanted.

Chen Ci stood, walked to the back of Chen Nian’s wardrobe, and pulled out a still-new-looking backpack.

—

That afternoon, Fu Tianhe brought the Samuelton component set he’d disassembled the day before to the black market to sell.

After his meticulous modifications, the already valuable component set had become even more rare and precious.

He watched his account balance tick up with satisfaction as he left the shop.

The doctor hadn’t been in earlier, but on his way back, Fu Tianhe caught sight of him emerging from the operating room, hands soaked in blood.

“I’m here to return the last of what I owe you.” Fu Tianhe poked his head in while the doctor was washing his hands. “Now we’re even.”

Every 45 days, Fu Tianhe needed a gene correction injection. Even in a black clinic, those tiny vials cost tens of thousands of Augis. In official hospitals, the price was even worse.

Most of his salary and side jobs went toward this one thing—leaving him broke most of the time. But he had no choice. Staying alive came first.

The doctor grunted in acknowledgment, then remembered something. “Oh right, that little Omega came by this morning—with a family member, I think. Covered up tight with a cap and mask.”

“Family?” Fu Tianhe perked up instantly. “Someone in Jiu Yue’s family is sick?”

“Probably his father,” the doctor said. “Lots of burn scars. Limped badly. On the verge of going blind. Pretty serious. Looks like it’s been going on for years.”

It was the first time Fu Tianhe had heard anything about Chen Ci’s family. He couldn’t help pressing further. “So what happened? He asked me once about your skills, said he was just curious.”

“It’s bad, yeah. But not hopeless. If they can get to a hospital on the upper levels, there’s still a chance to slow things down,” the doctor said. Then he added pointedly, “But clearly, if they came here, it means they can’t afford the upper levels.”

Fu Tianhe sighed. “Yeah… he doesn’t come from money. First time I met him, he couldn’t even afford food, didn’t have money for the bus home.”

The doctor’s words were like pieces of a puzzle—Fu Tianhe’s imagination filled in the rest.

Jiu Yue and his ailing father depended on each other to survive. The father, due to his injuries, couldn’t work. The burden of supporting them both fell entirely on the shoulders of the eighteen-year-old Omega.

And he was so beautiful. So kind. So resilient.

Living in the Underground City, Jiu Yue must’ve gone through hardships that no one could imagine.

With sky-high medical expenses and the daily cost of living, he had no choice but to borrow money from a government-employed, blonde Alpha.

And when he couldn’t repay it on time, that Alpha made his life hell.

Jiu Yue tried to find a decent job, even considered going up top. That’s why he’d asked for a travel pass.

And he’d done it—earned some money, paid back the travel fee, and even had a little leftover.

But with family below, he couldn’t bear to stay away for long.

So he came back.

Despite a cruel, unfair life, Jiu Yue stayed strong. He never showed weakness. He faced each day with quiet determination.

He was smart. He was diligent. He came to Fu Tianhe to learn a trade—hoping it might help support his family.

Fu Tianhe’s eyes went a little red.

He sniffled, completely immersed in this tragic, noble story he’d constructed in his head.

In his mind, Chen Ci was now a soft-hearted, hardworking little angel, glowing with gentle light, like a fallen seraph trying to survive in a cruel world.

The doctor looked at his face and rolled his eyes hard enough to sprain something.

“Why don’t you save a little sympathy for yourself first,” he sneered.