Chen Ci let out a soft “hm.”

It was just past one in the morning, the coldest time of the night, especially since the two of them had just rushed to save the matchstick and were now drenched in sweat. The wind blew, quickly whisking away the warmth from their bodies.

Fu Tianhe noticed Chen Ci shivering. Without a second thought, he took off his jacket and made a move to drape it over Chen Ci’s shoulders. 

Just as he was about to cover Chen Ci, Fu Tianhe quietly asked, “Is it okay?”

Chen Ci looked at him, but Fu Tianhe couldn’t see the boy’s expression. In the silence, he gently placed the jacket on Chen Ci’s shoulders, bringing with it the rich scent of amber wood and the warmth of an Alpha.

Fu Tianhe was only wearing a thin shirt, so he didn’t feel cold at all. He was full of energy, his palms usually warm like a furnace. Out of politeness, he couldn’t warm up Jiu Yue’s hands or anything, but his jacket could serve the same purpose.

They sat side by side, with just a fist’s distance between them, and a slight movement could bring them closer together.

The floral scent that had once lingered in their dreams was long gone, replaced by the salty, damp air from the ocean. The searchlight was off, and the glowing orbs were left inside the tent. 

Aside from the night sky above, Fu Tianhe could hardly see anything else. But he wasn’t anxious; the presence of the boy beside him reassured him that he wasn’t alone. 

—At least not abandoned again, at least not for now.

Relaxing, Fu Tianhe recalled everything that had just happened. Jiu Yue had woken up before him; before the sound even reached the tent, the boy had already opened his eyes alertly. 

He had dashed out decisively, moving swiftly through the dark night. Fu Tianhe followed behind with the searchlight, nearly tripping twice because he could hardly see the path, likely due to his right eye being blind, which made it hard for him to adjust his vision.

Jiu Yue’s sharpness exceeded his expectations. He took the shortest route to the scene and accurately shot the octopus. 

—He must have hit it, Fu Tianhe thought, since he heard a particularly loud gunshot.

“Did you fire the gun?” he asked.

Chen Ci nodded, then remembered that Fu Tianhe couldn’t see, and added, “I did.”

“The bullets—”

“There were two bullets in the gun we found.”

Fu Tianhe was taken aback. He recalled that they had found the gun three days ago in the office drawer. At that time, Jiu Yue had pulled the trigger at the window, but it was an empty gun. Where did the bullets come from? 

Could it be that… Jiu Yue had taken the bullets before showing it to him? 

Thinking back, it seemed the boy had indeed gone through the process of disassembling the gun. So, did he take the bullets to prevent accidental firing, or did he anticipate that something like today would happen? 

Either way, it was enough to astonish Fu Tianhe. Jiu Yue’s thoughts were surprisingly meticulous. His familiarity with firearms was beyond Fu Tianhe’s expectations. 

To maintain order, all major beacons had strict controls over weapons; even the largest black market couldn’t sell firearms. Only military personnel could come into contact with real guns. 

Jiu Yue was an Omega, so logically, he shouldn’t have had the opportunity to handle one. 

Fu Tianhe buried all his doubts deep in his heart, already unable to count how many things puzzled him. 

Jiu Yue didn’t shy away from these topics, as if everything was perfectly natural. If Fu Tianhe were to ask, it would seem very strange. 

“The first one was a blank, probably damp. Luckily, the second one fired,” Chen Ci said slowly, pulling a blank from his pocket. 

After saving the matchstick, Chen Ci had crouched down to pick up the bullet that had fallen on the ground. 

Fu Tianhe took the bullet from Chen Ci’s palm. It was too dark, so he could only fumble around, his fingers brushing against Chen Ci’s palm. 

Soft, warm, and delicate to the touch. 

The moment Fu Tianhe touched him, Chen Ci instinctively pulled his hand back. He was still very unaccustomed to being touched by others; the warmth belonging to someone else made him uncomfortable. 

But surprisingly, this time, there was no nauseating feeling. 

Fu Tianhe also realized he had touched Chen Ci and shivered, hurriedly saying, “Sorry, I really can’t see well.”

From the very first time they met, Fu Tianhe knew that Jiu Yue detested physical contact. 

The colorful delinquents knelt against the wall, crying and slapping themselves, while the boy remained indifferent, even placing a tissue between his hand and Fu Tianhe’s palm when he reached out. 

There were many similar instances; Jiu Yue would rather be thirsty than drink from someone else’s cup. Fu Tianhe had specifically bought paper cups for him to keep in the low tent. 

When Jiu Yue handed over tools, he always held them by the end, ensuring that no accidental contact would occur when the tools were caught. 

During their exploration of the abandoned suburbs, he had always figured out how to climb up and down by himself, never thinking of using Fu Tianhe’s stronger body for support. 

Only that one time, when Jiu Yue jumped down from the second floor and landed in his arms. 

Their chests pressed together, holding each other’s backs, but all contact was still separated by thick layers of fabric. The soft ends of Jiu Yue’s hair brushed against his cheek, and he could touch the boy’s neck if he lowered his head, but he dared not overstep any boundaries. 

And… and in his sleep, the unconscious arm that draped over him. 

Chen Ci fell silent for a few seconds. Just as Fu Tianhe was anxiously thinking he might be angry, Chen Ci reached out again and placed the bullet back in his palm. 

It seemed he didn’t want to dwell on the accidental touch. 

Fu Tianhe’s mind short-circuited; he couldn’t think about what this meant. The bullet landed in his palm, still warm from the boy’s pocket. 

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and slightly turned on the searchlight to check the blank in the dim light. 

It must have gotten damp. 

“We’re out of bullets,” Chen Ci said. 

Fu Tianhe understood him smoothly; Jiu Yue wanted him to make some bullets. 

In the dangerous coastal area, weapons were indeed necessary for self-defense. If it hadn’t been for the crowbar he had casually picked up tonight, he wouldn’t have been able to save the matchstick smoothly. 

But Fu Tianhe felt he didn’t have the skill to make bullets by hand. 

Making bullets was far more complicated than just creating a bullet head and loading gunpowder. Nowadays, bullet casings were generally made of steel, with only a few using expensive brass. Sometimes, iron or tungsten cores were inserted inside the casing to enhance lethality or armor-piercing effects. 

Once the bullet heads were made, they had to be washed to remove metal shavings; otherwise, they could jam, and if they exploded, it wouldn’t be a joke. 

The gunpowder inside the bullet was technically called “□□,” made from nitrocellulose, and a layer of “□□” was needed at the bottom as a primer. 

Just gathering these materials was something Fu Tianhe couldn’t easily obtain, let alone the final calibration and adjustment of curvature. 

But facing Chen Ci’s silent expectation, he didn’t tell the truth. 

“It’s a bit difficult, but I can try a little,” Fu Tianhe said, rubbing the bullet as he pondered. 

In this abandoned suburb filled with the remains of primordial creatures, getting metal wasn’t hard; the challenge was shaping the metal into bullet heads. He didn’t have a machine tool or smelting equipment on hand. 

But he could slightly modify the raw materials. 

The primer could be replaced with fuse paper, and thin paper, potassium chlorate, realgar, and rice soup could be used to make it. 

Gunpowder was even easier to make; “one nitrate, two sulfur, three charcoal,” a formula passed down for thousands of years. 

As for the bullet shape, he could simply use the principle of flintlock guns to make round balls; it was simple and practical. 

Fu Tianhe made up his mind and just needed to wait until they returned to put it into practice. 

If all went well, after delivering the matchstick to the scavenger camp tomorrow, they could return to the hotel in the city and see if they could find suitable materials. 

Suddenly, Fu Tianhe thought of something, stood up, and rummaged through his bag for a multifunctional military knife. 

He vaguely remembered there was a broken tree nearby, and sure enough, he spotted it about twenty meters away. 

Fu Tianhe carefully selected a branch of the right thickness, chopped it down bit by bit with the knife, and carried it back to the tent. 

Chen Ci was turning to look at him, the boy’s amber eyes reflecting light, revealing an indescribable tenderness. 

Fu Tianhe adjusted the angle of the searchlight and began to carve the wood. 

In the quiet night, Fu Tianhe slowly shaped the branch into a Y-shape, then used a rasp and sandpaper to smooth the surface. He took out some bandages to wrap around the handle to increase friction, and then carved a groove at the top to secure the rubber band. 

Finally, Fu Tianhe blew away the wood shavings floating on the surface and handed the finished slingshot to Chen Ci, saying, “Use this for now.” 

Chen Ci took the slingshot and examined it. He held the handle with his left hand and tried to pull the rubber band with his right, aiming into the darkness ahead. 

Releasing his hand, the rubber band snapped back with a loud “pop,” and the force was quite strong. 

Chen Ci picked up a pebble from the ground and pulled the slingshot back as far as he could— 

In the moment he released it, the pebble shot out, leaving a gray shadow in its wake. His eyes couldn’t keep up with its disappearing speed, and only after three or four seconds did he hear it hit the ground. 

The range should be about 40 meters, and with the enhancement of his mental power, the accuracy shouldn’t be too bad either. 

Chen Ci was satisfied with his new weapon. 

Time passed slowly, and the night felt a bit hard to endure. The adrenaline from battling the giant octopus gradually faded, and drowsiness crept back in. 

Chen Ci squinted his eyes, silently yawning with his mouth closed, but his deep breaths were heard by Fu Tianhe. 

He had never stayed up all night before, and now he could vaguely feel some discomfort in his insides. 

“Go get some rest,” the Alpha said softly. “I’ll keep watch outside for you two. Don’t worry about me; I’m full of energy.” 

Chen Ci was indeed tired. Using his mental power made him more fatigued than usual. He wanted to sleep but felt it wasn’t right to leave Fu Tianhe alone outside. 

Seeing him silent, Fu Tianhe chuckled, “Don’t worry, I won’t run off. I won’t get lost.” 

Finally persuaded, Chen Ci gently agreed, stood up, and went back to the tent to rest. 

The boy crouched down and crawled into the tent. Listening to the rustling sounds, Fu Tianhe could roughly picture him taking off his jacket and lying down in his sleeping bag. 

It quickly became quiet behind him. Fu Tianhe turned off the searchlight to avoid attracting unwanted guests. 

Although he was still sitting outside, bored and waiting, the thought that someone cared about him made him feel no loneliness or desolation. 

Fu Tianhe waited quietly, waiting for the moment when light would once again descend. 

At 5:10 AM, the night sky finally showed some changes. At first, it was just a grayish-white mist, a faint layer spreading out, which Fu Tianhe’s eyes, now accustomed to the dark, sharply captured. 

They were facing away from the sun, with the main body of Cinnabar blocking the view of the sunrise, but Fu Tianhe knew the star was about to leap over the horizon, casting golden morning light over the sea, just like it had a thousand years ago. 

A slight pain emerged deep in his right eye. Fu Tianhe pressed his index and middle fingers together and pressed down on his prosthetic eye, feeling a sound coming from within the eye socket, sticky. 

The pressure temporarily alleviated the hidden pain and endless itchiness, suppressing the terrifying sprouts once more.