Death Progress Bar

Lapdog
After changing his clothes, Shi Jin pushed Lian Jun into the dining hall closest to their villa.

It was large, had both indoor and outdoor areas, and was decorated island-style. There was a bouquet of fresh flowers on every table. Simple but beautiful umbrellas shaded the outdoor tables. Everything was pleasing to the eye.

People in waiter’s uniforms bustled about. They paused when they saw Lian Jun and greeted him one after another in well-practiced discipline.

Lian Jun motioned for them to ignore him. They returned to their duties, chatting and laughing together in a relaxed atmosphere.

Shi Jin looked at them curiously, a little surprised. If not for these waiters’ trained movements, he would think this was an ordinary restaurant on a resort island, not an underworld organization’s dining hall.

Lian Jun pointed to an outdoor table, signaling Shi Jin to push him there. He settled at the table and picked up a menu. He handed it to the teenager, saying, “The fruit pie here is good, would you like to try it?”

Shi Jin stopped studying patterns on the shade over his head and took in the long list of dishes on the menu. He asked, taken aback, “Just how many chefs did you hire?”

“None, all the chefs here are our own people,” Lian Jun answered, asking for two glasses of juice to be sent up.

Shi Jin was incredulous. “We have a chef department?”

Lian Jun, pleased with teenager’s usage of “we,” reclined in his wheelchair and replied, “No, there’s no such thing—they set up all kinds of schools and training institutions, and run them themselves. Sooner or later, my people will be free of this blood-soaked life. I want them to be able to support themselves in the ordinary world.”

This was the first time Shi Jin heard Lian Jun talk about Annihilation’s internal affairs. In the past, he simply trained and did tasks without knowing what they were about. He didn’t dare ask too many questions or dig for information, afraid it wouldn’t be taken well. Now that Lian Jun took the initiative to raise the subject, Shi Jin couldn’t help but ask, “Jun-shao, are you planning to transform the entire Annihilation?”

Lian Jun nodded and pushed one of the glasses brought over by a waiter in front of Shi Jin. Once he realized the younger man wasn’t going to choose food for himself, he ordered the dining hall’s signature fruit pie and seafood porridge along with a few light refreshments suitable for breakfast. The waiter left, and he answered, “My people followed me to hell and back. I want to leave the shadows, and naturally, I’m going to take everyone with me. People of the underworld don’t abandon their brothers.”

Those were the most underground boss-style words Shi Jin ever heard Lian Jun say. In that instant, he gained a new understanding of him.

Annihilation was the largest underworld organization in China. It had considerable power in countries across the world, and its membership was almost astronomical. It was frightening to even imagine taking on the responsibility for all these people and their futures.

Although Lian Jun was young and in poor health, he had all the hallmarks of a great leader.

Shi Jin took a sip of juice. He glanced at Lian Jun with eyes full of admiration and went on, “How many of these schools do we have? And, to support so many people you need a lot of jobs, so you have to not only get rid of your identity as an underworld boss but also become president of an international company?”

This question could be taken as probing into Annihilation’s current situation and the progress of its transformation. Lian Jun knew Shi Jin was simply curious and answered straightforwardly: “There are many, and more continue to open. Our business network is also gradually spreading. However, those are not things you need to know. You’re staying by my side—not only is that the most dangerous place to be, but there is also the chance of being caught. The specifics are highly confidential. To prevent information leaks, you mustn’t ask about it, especially not here.”

Shi Jin picked up the fruit slices decorating the juice glass and chewed them. He remembered the never-ending documents that Lian Jun had to approve personally, and how Gua One and the others seldom mentioned Annihilation’s internal affairs. Nodding in understanding, he said, “The compartmentalization of information, I see. Even if there’s a traitor or a spy, they can only obtain a limited amount of information.”

This was what Lian Jun appreciated about Shi Jin the most: although the young man could be temperamental, he had his act together when it came to his duties and critical matters. He was sensible, knew how far he could go, didn’t ask questions he shouldn’t or wonder about things he had no business wondering about. He could see the bigger picture and was sufficiently thick-skinned.

Such a person was an excellent choice—as a subordinate, as a friend, as a…

“Jun-shao? Jun-shao? Our breakfast is here. Eat quickly, or it’ll get cold.”

A hand waved before his eyes and woke Lian Jun from his ruminations. He actually relaxed enough to be absent-minded in front of Shi Jin. He froze for a second, stunned, then gave the teenager a profound glance. He sat up, picked up a spoon, and stirred the seafood porridge Shi Jin pushed over. After a while, he said abruptly, “Shi Jin, there are some things I think you have the right to know, to make a choice. The transformation consists of two parts. One is the transformation of revenue and business structures. This isn’t difficult to carry out, it’s only a matter of time—the government supports us enough not to look too closely at many things, and we have a lot of capital. What’s actually difficult is the other part.”

Shi Jin asked, mouth full of fruit pie, “What’s that?”

Lian Jun found himself amused at the young man trying to look solemn while stuffing himself. His tone of voice, grave only a moment ago, relaxed. “It’s changing our ‘identity.’ How would you describe Annihilation?”

Shi Jin swallowed his bite of fruit pie and frowned. “The biggest legal criminal organization in the country? It also cooperates with the government… That’s about it?”

“More or less.” Lian Jun stirred his seafood porridge again. “But history taught us that if society wants to develop steadily, thriving underworld organizations—even legitimized—are gratuitous. We’re an existence destined to be eliminated; we need to strive for survival with all our might if we don’t want to perish. The second part of the transformation is changing people’s ‘perception.’ What we want is for the organization called Annihilation to no longer exist in the minds of government officials and public. Only then will we be truly safe, and the transformation considered successful.”

Understanding the underlying meaning, Shi Jin blurted out, “The government is planning to get rid of legal underworld organizations?”

Lian Jun looked at his wide-open eyes, and for some inexplicable reason, the things he used to feel were heavy seemed light right now. He nodded. “They’ve already started—Black Rose was the first. A few years ago, Annihilation and Black Rose were of the same strength and status—we were also one of the big organizations the government feared. Fortunately for us, we accumulated a lot of capital, didn’t have government backers, and our power was stable. As such, the approach they adopted was ‘amnesty and enlistment’ rather than ‘extermination.’”

Shi Jin’s heart sank when he heard his words.

So, the current situation was that Annihilation became a knife in the officials’ hands, in a campaign to get rid of other underworld organizations. As a reward for Annihilation “understanding which direction the wind blows,” the government began to enthusiastically aid in changing the way it earned money—that is, to help it wash clean the stains of criminal business.

But if that was the case, then Annihilation was a traitor and renegade of the underworld, and a target for all the other organizations—and that wasn’t even what was most dangerous. After everything was finished and the dust settled, would Annihilation—the last legal criminal organization that could threaten the government and knew its underhanded actions—really be let off just like that?

Let’s say that most of the “washed clean” members and businesses would be let go. However, would Lian Jun, Gua One, and the other core members be allowed to live?

The answer was obvious: ‘Once the birds are all killed, the bows are cast aside. Once the rabbits are caught, the hounds are eaten too.’

Annihilation’s transformation was not an ordinary transformation, but a complete internal and external change. For some people, there was no retreat route, and the road ahead was not necessarily bright.

The fruit pie was not tasty anymore, the juice not sweet, and even the sea breeze became irritating. A deep furrow appeared between Shi Jin’s brows. He said, “Jun-shao, historically, do you know the most common outcome for bands of brigands recruited by the imperial court in times of need? After the emergency has passed, ordinary members might be forgiven and allowed to return to their villages to plow the fields and live their lives, but bandit leaders are usually beheaded. It’s just that some of them fall early and some late. Has that thought crossed your mind?”

The direction of Shi Jin’s thoughts surprised Lian Jun—the teenager didn’t care he haplessly boarded a pirate ship but worried about the safety of the “bandit leader” instead. His gaze warmed. He picked up a straw and poked Shi Jin’s frown, answering, “Yes. And don’t you remember not only the leaders won’t have a good end, but their cronies too? A moment ago, I told you that you have the right to choose. Well then, this is your last chance: would you rather be an upright citizen or a lapdog of a bandit boss, likely to be put to death?”

Now that Lian Jun was in light enough a mood to joke with him, Shi Jin grabbed the straw poking him and stuck it in his glass. Scowling, he drained most of the juice in one big gulp, then said fiercely, “My bandit boss is smart, he must’ve thought of a way out. If I can be his lapdog, I’ll be happy! At least following you, I can eat delicious spicy food!”

Lian Jun’s lips curled, his mood quite good. He leaned back in the wheelchair and supported his chin on his hand. “No, you can only eat with me, and I can’t eat spicy things. Only low-ranked minions are allowed to enjoy spicy food.”

Shi Jin dared to roll his eyes at him and pointed at the porridge. “Then hurry up and get better. I love spicy food, you can’t deprive me of it.”

Lian Jun couldn’t help but chuckle. His heart, which had always drifted full of uncertainty, slowly settled in his chest. He took a look at Shi Jin, eyed the seafood porridge, then pushed it aside and reached for the teenager’s half-eaten fruit pie. “I’m tired of porridge, I want that.”

Shi Jin was dazed by his laughter, and it took him a moment to come back to his senses. Wearing a “what am I going to do with you” expression, he surrendered his fruit pie.

After that breakfast conversation, the distance between the two narrowed a lot. Shi Jin became bolder and more casual in front of Lian Jun, and Lian Jun tacitly consented.

That afternoon, everyone gathered to discuss the R&R leave. Gua One and the others noticed the subtle change but said nothing. After the meeting, Gua Two grabbed the astonished Gua Six and dragged him aside for a long talk.

So, when Shi Jin went to Gua Six for his pass card, he found the way his new colleague watched him was a bit odd.

Gua Six was gentle and honest-looking. He was a little older than Gua One, and pretty much watched Lian Jun grow up—he doted on him like a family elder would on a junior he was very fond of. Now that this cherished junior suddenly found someone special, all sorts of feelings welled in the elder’s heart.

“Xiao Jin, right? You… how old are you?” Gua Six asked.

Shi Jin thought the man’s strange expression was because he looked too young, and lied shamelessly: “Almost twenty.”

Twenty? The age difference is not so big to be unacceptable.

Gua Six nodded and took out a blank pass card. He extended his hand toward Shi Jin: “Please give me your ID card, I need to enter the information.”

Shi Jin obediently handed it over. After it left his hand, he remembered his date of birth was on it, and his expression stiffened. Damn it, the cat’s out of the bag.

Gua Six already noticed the date of birth on the ID card. He paused then looked at Shi Jin, taken aback. “Didn’t you round it up a bit too much?” You became an adult just a few months ago.

“It’s my mental age.” Shi Jin refused to admit defeat.

Gua Six entered the relevant information and asked, heart shaking a bit, “About Jun-shao… Do you think he’s old?”

Shi Jin was confused. “Old? Jun-shao will be twenty-six this month, that’s not old.” He was the same age when he died in his previous life.

Gua Six’s eyes brightened, and he spoke faster. “You remember Jun-shao’s birthday?”

“I do. Why are you looking at me like that, is it hard to remember?” His reaction spooked Shi Jin a little.

Gua Six got a grip on himself, smiled, and waved to show it’s nothing. He said cheerfully, “It’s not hard to remember but to want to remember. Oh, right, right, this is your pass card, I gave you the highest level of privilege. Go play and have fun.”

Shi Jin walked away, bemused.

Gua Six smiled with satisfaction. “He remembered Jun-shao’s birthday offhand—it seems he really has Jun-shao in his heart. Very good, very good.”

Lian Jun didn’t want to go to the dining hall for dinner, and Shi Jin was also disinclined to move. So, the teenager called the kitchen and asked them to send food up and set the table on the terrace.

Lian Jun had no objections to his choice and was happy to take his seat.

They ate in pleasant harmony. Afterward, Shi Jin saw Lian Jun didn’t immediately leave to deal with documents, and his mind moved. He took the opportunity to say, “Jun-shao, we’re on the island already. That massage… Would you like to give it a try?”

Lian Jun glanced at him and didn’t answer, but his expression was still tranquil.

“Come on, try it. I gambled and lost, you shouldn’t just let me off, or I’ll never learn.” Shi Jin’s words of self-reflection were high-sounding.

Lian Jun’s eyebrows wandered up. He propped his chin on his hand and asked in a voice lazy as if intoxicated by the sea breeze: “Why are you so dead set on that massage, Shi Jin?”

The morning conversation changed things between them a little. This time, Shi Jin didn’t evade but replied honestly, “I want to take a look at your legs. Muscles that aren’t used will atrophy. Uncle Long said you refuse to take care of your legs, so I’m a bit worried.”

Lian Jun’s expression changed a little. He looked away and said, “Worrying about it is useless. I always keep in mind the condition of my body.”

“We don’t call this ‘keeping in mind’ but ‘resigning yourself to it,’” Shi Jin rebuked, a rare serious expression on his face. “Your legs aren’t disabled. After conditioning your body, the nerves won’t be as sensitive, and the aftereffects will disappear. If you rebuild your leg muscles, you’ll be able to walk like a normal person. You can’t just decide to give up at the beginning.”

“I was born like this—it was what God decided, not I,” Lian Jun answered, as if he had accepted his fate.

“Lian Jun, you can’t think like that.” Shi Jin frowned, feeling an oncoming headache.

As expected, Lian Jun was the epitome of a bad patient—Uncle Long’s occasional grumbles hinted as much already.

He didn’t eat well, and before Shi Jin came, he even drank despite knowing his stomach couldn’t stand it. He also hated medicine. Trying to cure someone like that was downright frustrating.

After their earlier conversation, however, Shi Jin thought he could guess why Lian Jun had this kind of attitude.

Annihilation’s transformation was rapid and dangerous like mountain rafting: not even the slightest mistake was allowed. There was no time for Lian Jun to care about his physical condition, he was also probably disgusted with his current, useless body. It was likely he intended to wait until his brothers were safe, then offer his head to the officials to make a thorough conclusion. Why would the man who’d already planned for his own death take care of his body?

Lian Jun saw Shi Jin’s expression troubled as if the young man wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what. Unexpectedly, he smiled. “You care more about my health than I do, Shi Jin. Can you tell me why?”

This smile looked very nice, but it frustrated Shi Jin.

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Shi Jin frowned. He glanced at the progress bars in his mind then took another look at Lian Jun’s seemingly indifferent appearance, and said, “I want you to be healthy and live a long life. In my current position and identity, isn’t this an obvious wish to have?”

Lian Jun eyed him silently, digesting his answer.

Shi Jin also didn’t speak. He was thinking about ways to improve Lian Jun’s outlook and spirit.

“All right.” Suddenly, Lian Jun lowered the hand that supported his chin, the rare relaxed appearance replaced by his usual reserved look. He moved his wheelchair toward the small lounge room connected to the terrace and asked, turning his head, “Didn’t you want to massage my legs? You have all the tools with you, right?”

Shi Jin started, and his eyes lit up. He rushed to push the wheelchair and enthused, “Now we’re talking! Where there’s life, there’s hope. Rest assured, I have everything with me, and I’ll do everything to make the massage comfortable.”

The tools Shi Jin mentioned consisted of three things: massage gadgets brought only for appearance, medical massage oil provided by Uncle Long, and a small wireless speaker for music.

The massage venue was set up in Lian Jun’s room. Shi Jin first prepared a hot bath for Lian Jun to soak in. Then, following information he’d collected, he asked for a softer than usual massage table to be brought over.

When everything was ready, he connected the speaker with his phone, found the playlist with the soothing instrumental music he’d downloaded earlier, and tapped play.

The next second, soft and ethereal music filled the room. Combined with the distant waves, it subsided people’s emotions.

Shi Jin was quite pleased. He nudged Xiao Si in his mind. “Gua Two got me this speaker. With how good the sound quality is, it must’ve been expensive.”

Xiao Si didn’t answer.

A bit uneasy, the teenager stopped fiddling with the speaker. “What’s the matter, Xiao Si? The success of this massage depends on you, you can’t get cold feet at this time.”

Xiao Si: <Ah— Hiccup.>

What was this strange sound?

Shi Jin frowned and asked anxiously, “What’s the matter with you? Is there really a problem?”

<No.> Xiao Si’s voice suddenly calmed and became a bit serious. Then it blurted at twice the usual speed: <JinJinturnaroundrightnow.>

Shi Jin reflexively listened and slammed right into a slightly damp chest. The mild scent of bath milk filled his nose.

“This music is nice.” Lian Jun took the speaker from Shi Jin’s hand, examined it briefly, and set it on a cabinet. Then he leaned forward to look at the massage table behind the younger man, nearly embracing him, and asked with a sideways glance, “Should I lie down directly?”

Shi Jin held his breath, his eyes shifting from Lian Jun’s collarbone still beaded with water to his Adam’s apple, then down to his chest, wrapped in a black silk bathrobe. They shifted further down to the man’s feet on the luxurious carpet. Finally, he looked back up at Lian Jun’s face, taking in his damp, tousled hair, and took a deep breath.

Damn, was this really Lian Jun? He simply took a bath and messed up his hair, so how come he felt like another person? Does standing or sitting, and a hairstyle, make such a difference?

Thwack.

A flick on his forehead woke Shi Jin and made him look at the only other person in the room.

Lian Jun lowered his hand and bypassed Shi Jin to lie down on the massage table. The loose hem of the bathrobe spread out, exposing a pair of long, slender legs. “Let’s get started.”

Both his expression and voice were calm and natural, light years away from his actions a moment ago.

Shi Jin’s eyes were glued to him as he moved. The impact of his appearance was too great because even though it was the first time Lian Jun let him see his legs, the teenager didn’t pay any attention to them. Instead, he stared at the hem of Lian Jun’s bathrobe and asked, “You… aren’t going commando, are you?”

“……”

Lian Jun glanced at him and said lightly, “Shi Jin, you’re silly, but I have to praise the way you think.”

Shi Jin was sheepish.

Lapdog – gǒutuǐ (狗腿) = variant of zǒugǒu (走狗), lit. “dog leg,” often translated as “running dog.” It means an unprincipled person who helps or flatters other, more powerful and often evil people; in use in this sense since the Qing Dynasty. (Source 1, Source 2 – more extensive)
“Once the birds are all killed, the bows are cast aside. Once the rabbits are caught, the hounds are eaten too” [鸟尽弓藏，兔死狗烹] – a Chinese idiom, or rather two idioms, meaning casting aside those who have helped someone to achieve a position of power or success after they’ve served their purpose. (Source)
To board a pirate ship [上了贼船] – lit. to mistakenly board a pirate ship; to embark on a hopeless adventure (because the pirates won’t let you go, their end won’t be good, and now you’re one of them).