Tower of Overturn

Like a small animal that would roll over and expose its belly in front of a snarling leader to prove its harmlessness and tameness.

"Didn't your mother come with you?"

This man, exuding a dangerous aura, questioned so.

This must be an interrogation, Russell thought.

"She died."

Thinking this, Russell softly answered, "Her funeral just ended not long ago."

"I still remember what that felt like. Even clenching my fists felt empty and powerless... After that, I dreamed about her every night. Although I would soon forget the contents of the dreams after waking, each time I woke up, the pillow would be a bit damp."

Russell's ungloved right hand subconsciously touched the necklace at his chest.

It was a hexagonal pendant containing his mother's personal chip.

Although the data stored in the chip had been destroyed through the funeral procedure... this remaining intact chip also served as a keepsake for loved ones.

And this crystal pendant storing the chip was also the last gift his mother left for Russell.

"Sorry... What about your father?"

The man opposite continued to inquire patiently.

Russell felt increasingly threatened.

This probing into his privacy was gradually veering from the level of "casual chat on a journey."

You'd think if Russell mentioned only his mother, it obviously meant he didn't want to talk about his father, right?

But Russell's expression didn't change.

He had quite some experience dealing with dangerous people.

Just like when he was a child, before his mother had returned from work, he would go home alone after school.

Upon entering, Russell realized that a thief had entered their home, and the intruder hadn't yet left.

Russell clearly understood—in that moment he had to remain calm and relaxed, not panic out of fear.

He maintained his act, keeping up his innocence and harmlessness. He first called a friend, and after establishing contact, he casually left the house under the pretext of "going out to play ball."

He didn't rush to leave, nor did he run away after exiting. Instead, he hummed a tune and lingered a bit before slowly moving.

The crisis he faced now was presumably the same.

"That man flew the coop long ago."

Russell scoffed, displaying a disdain that was barely noticeable along with some unobvious resentment.

But in reality, he felt nothing for that man.

Neither love nor hate, as if he were just a stranger with no relation to himself. Russell didn't have the consciousness of "having a father."

"When I was barely old enough to remember, he left—taking all the family's wealth. Unlike my mother and me, it's said his prone-spiritual was an eagle. He was bound to fly off.

"We used to live on Chongguang Island, which, unlike Happiness Island, doesn't have an Upper and Lower City District. A lot of jobs were handled by artificial intelligence, and decent jobs that could provide a respectable life were hard to come by. My mother struggled mightily just to support me and allow me to go to school. That man hasn't sent back a single penny in over twenty years, and all communications were read but never replied to. Even after my mother died, I sent him the location of her funeral, but he ignored me.

"Do you know, sir? I found out for the first time that humans become very heavy after death. Then, they become very light again. Crematoriums don't give you all the ashes. Just a symbolic handful... The urn is about this big."

Russell gestured, his tone light yet laced with a touch of sadness and self-mockery, "They only gave me a minute for the final rites, because I was the only person there... I couldn't even afford a priest from the cyber church for the ceremony. Fortunately, I had done some odd jobs while in school. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to afford even the collective burial ground for such a light, small box. If you can't pay up quickly, you only have the 'environmentally friendly package' left—which is just scattering the ashes into the sea."

This wasn't entirely an act.

It was genuine sadness, something that had truly occurred.

But Russell wasn't as helpless as he described in his story—he was much stronger than that child depicted in his words.

After all, if he hadn't been strong, he wouldn't have been able to complete college in the environment of Chongguang Island.

But from childhood, he had learned to "sell sob stories" appropriately. Or rather, to display his scars and shortcomings to an extent that wouldn't make others look down on him, while trying to dissipate their hostility as much as possible.

Like a stray cat pretending to be good to rub against passersby for food.

It was indeed strange... perhaps because he was focused on performing, or perhaps because the other party had harbored some ill intentions, Russell felt the tension that was pervasive in the air gradually dissipating.

Perhaps, I wasn't entirely seeking the other's trust either.

Russell thought.

Although it was merely a social tactic for self-preservation.

But talking about these things did indeed make him feel somewhat better.

"Listen to me," the voice of the young man opposite him deepened, "once you find that man, remember to shoot him. For abandoning his wife and child, he deserves a lesson."

"Forget about it."

Russell shook his head, "I don't want to find him."

"Even though he has made your life so difficult?"

"He is indeed a scoundrel. But I cannot become a bastard like him," Russell said softly, "Mother said I should become a Big Shot."

—That was the truth.

His mother had indeed said so, and Russell genuinely believed it.

"...What exactly makes one a 'Big Shot'?"

"Someone who can inspire genuine admiration... I guess?"

Russell paused momentarily, uncertainly adding, "At the very least, one shouldn't be hated."

Hearing this, the white-haired young man fell silent for a while.

"That's quite difficult."

"More difficult than becoming a Director of the headquarters," the young man said quietly.

Having said that, he dropped the topic and resumed that unprofessional, spine-chilling crooked smile, "In that case, how can you afford a first-class airship ticket?"

"Mother told me right before she died... I have an uncle on Happiness Island."

Russell's mouth curved slightly upward on one side, his tone calm, "An uncle I've never met nor heard of. Mother told me to move to Happiness Island to live... This first-class ticket was also bought by my uncle. I'll tell you, this ticket was pretty expensive; if it were converted into my living expenses, I could afford to have meat at every meal for five or six years.

"But unfortunately, I really didn't have the money to buy a suitcase. Luckily, I don't have much to carry, just the backpack from my school days is enough, and it's even quite spacious. That actually saved me the money for check-in."

"Your uncle is with...?"

"Tianen Group. He's from 'headquarters', and it seems like he's part of the high management," Russell stated.

This was, naturally, intelligence he deliberately revealed.

On one hand, it was to gain the other party's goodwill and trust, and on the other, it was a silent threat.

"The Tianen Group, huh... That's a big corporation," the tall white-haired young man murmured softly.

After pondering for a moment, he casually handed a small box to Russell, "You're a good kid…

"But good kids need to be extra careful on Happiness Island."

"It sounds like Happiness Island isn't much different from Chongguang Island," Russell muttered, opening the box on impulse.

The next moment, he felt the hairs on his ears explode.

His heart nearly stopped.

The instant his fingertips touched it, he realized what it was.

It was a gun.