AHEIAID Chapter 49: I Want to Go Home QAQ
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November. Snow began to fall heavily from the sky.
Fluffy flakes layered over one another as they gently drifted down, sticking to street lamps, benches, sidewalks, and the hurried passersby.
The piercing cold wind disrupted their vision, and soon, snow buried their knees, turning them into walking snowmen.
The entire city resembled a freshly shaken Christmas snow globe in a child's hands—aside from white, nothing else could be seen.
Even in the infamous crime-ridden Sunset City, "hunting" had dwindled.
—Well, after all, criminals were humans too. They needed warmth as well.
Compared to fighting, wasn’t a glass of strong liquor much more appealing in this weather?
On a day when stepping outside meant freezing to death, anyone out in the streets was either struggling to make a living or dealing with something urgent.
Hammond clearly belonged to the latter.
Hunched over, he crossed his arms tightly against his chest, tucking his gloved hands under his armpits. He wrapped his thick woolen coat around himself, trying to retain whatever warmth he could.
But snow still clung to him, covering his entire body. Even his only exposed feature—his eyes—had frozen lashes, making his pale golden eyelashes stand out, giving them an oddly beautiful appearance.
Rushing through two streets, he trudged through the snow until he reached an old apartment building barely visible in the blinding white. After checking his surroundings carefully and confirming that no one had followed him, Hammond quickly pushed open the door and slipped into the building.
"Click—"
Several locks opened and closed in sequence.
Only after descending to the basement-level shelter—something every home in Sunset City had, given the city's chaos—did Hammond slow his pace.
Finally, he stopped in the corridor.
His cold gaze landed on the large mechanical setup occupying most of the room, along with the small hospital bed at its center. A rough but clean blanket covered a small, flushed face, its owner sleeping soundly despite the outside chill.
At last, the icy layer over his gold-green eyes melted slightly, revealing a trace of warmth…
Hammond carefully removed his scarf and hat.
Before he even had a chance to shed his snow-dampened clothing, he first reached into his coat and pulled out a stash of medicine—contraband taken from an underground clinic.
One by one, he lined them up neatly on the shelf before finally tending to himself.
The clinking and clattering inevitably woke the person in the bed.
The thick pile of blankets shifted.
The touch was clearly too soft—evidence that the person making the bed had no experience with comfort but had done their best to make it as cozy as possible.
"Hammond?"
After a long moment, a head peeked out from under the covers, his hair sticking up from static electricity. He huffed out a few breaths, then weakly tilted his head toward the door, testing in a small voice.
He didn’t dare be too loud.
After all, this city was dangerous—home invasions were as common as eating and drinking.
The figure changing clothes paused for a second before walking to the bedside, looking down at the person in bed.
A young man’s face, not particularly handsome but undeniably well-defined and serious, emerged from the shadows.
"It’s me."
"Oh..."
Hearing that, Joey relaxed. He weakly lifted an arm, careful not to disturb the IV needle in his wrist. The surrounding medical devices beeped softly, emitting a lulling rhythm.
Seeing this, Hammond took the initiative to tuck the blanket around him, then stood up straight and started listing off food options.
Once he was done, he looked at the small human in bed, fingers fidgeting slightly at the seam of his pants in a rare display of nervousness.
"What do you want to eat?"
Joey tilted his head back, his gaze sincere.
"The one that’s not burnt."
Hammond: "…"
Joey: Listing all those fancy dish names, but in the end, they all turn to charcoal anyway.
Eating burnt food causes cancer, you know that, bro?
"……" Hammond coughed dryly after a long silence, turned around to cook, and said hoarsely, "…I'll try."
Hearing the hurried footsteps going upstairs, Joey felt like laughing, but held back in case it pulled on his wounds.
Sinking into the soft blankets, with the beeping of machines in his ears and the lingering smell of medicine at his nose, Joey's gaze drifted into a daze…
He clearly remembered that day—he died.
Boom.
His arms and legs were blown off, his body shattered in the mech.
The excruciating pain flooded his brain before it could even analyze where exactly it hurt. A mech shard pierced through his eye socket, straight into the delicate brain tissue…
…Joey didn't suffer for long, because it all happened too fast.
His brain was destroyed, his vision filled with black, red, green—flashes of chaotic colors. He tried to gasp, but blood clogged his throat.
Like an old television shutting down due to a power outage, everything flickered off in an instant.
He disappeared soundlessly into the searing heat and black smoke of the explosion.
From that moment, the consciousness of "Joey" ceased to exist.
His blood and flesh painted the entire cockpit—completely obliterated.
Then why am I alive?
Why haven’t I heard from the system since waking up?
Could the system have saved me? But that pitiful support system couldn’t even heal a mosquito bite—how could it have such immense power?
Joey couldn't figure it out. He kept calling out to the system in his mind but received no familiar response even after a long time.
Ever since the day he came back to life, Joey repeated this ritual every day, silently worrying about the system.
After all, he had suffered brain damage. He was afraid the system had died because of it.
They had been together for so long, like inseparable brothers. Joey couldn’t bear the thought of losing it—just thinking about it made his nose sting.
Joey murmured to himself, pretending to talk to the system to comfort himself:
"System, oh system, where the hell did you go? Did you get lost because of bad signal? Sigh…"
"Hurry up and come back. I'm fine now. You don’t know this, but I was saved by that agent from Harry’s side. Oh, he’s not a bad guy—he’s the one who used to secretly feed me on the starship."
"…Though I don’t know why he saved me, he seems to have run away from Harry. He’s so young—even younger than Amon—but he gives off the vibe of someone who just wants to retire, tsk tsk…
And guess what? One time he got drunk and prayed next to my bed!
Holy crap! Can you imagine? He thinks I’m an angel! Uh… well, I guess to the Ottomans people who worship humans, we technically are angels…
He said that when he dies, he wants to go to heaven—Earth—because Harry is definitely going to hell, and he doesn’t want to see him, hahaha…"
Joey laughed for a while, but the expression on his gaunt face gradually faded.
His lips twitched dryly, and his dark pupils glistened with moisture.
"System, you don’t know… the baby…"
His own life had been saved, though barely hanging by a thread. But the baby—only a few months old—had to be taken out during the emergency operation. Now, it was kept inside an incubator.
An incubator was expensive and only available in legitimate hospitals. If this weren’t Sunset City, Hammond wouldn’t have been able to get one.
Even so, the incubator had drained most of their resources.
The black-market doctor said that even if the baby survived, it wouldn’t grow up strong. There was no guarantee it would even live.
If only…
Joey turned to look at the cylindrical container in the corner.
Inside the liquid, connected to glowing threads, was a tiny, strange-looking being—both ugly and adorable in others’ eyes—quietly absorbing nutrients.
Joey stared at it, his heart twisting in pain, his insides knotting together.
I have to go back!
Only by returning to the advanced and prosperous Imperial Capital can my baby survive.
Besides, that lunatic Harry has probably already told Garius that I’m dead.
Garius is powerful, sure, but he’s still human.
A man wouldn’t just brush it off if his lover died.
Joey had dreamt many times of Garius carrying him, kneeling on the ground with his head lowered—his emotions radiating loneliness, despair, and sharp, overwhelming grief. Joey screamed and ran forward, but the man vanished before his eyes.
Leaving behind nothing but emptiness and gut-wrenching sorrow.
"Sigh…"
Joey almost shed a tear.
‘System, I miss you. I miss you too, Garius. Boohoo…’
Not long after, Hammond finished cooking, set up a small table on the bed, and started placing dishes down. Joey quickly shoved all his negative emotions aside.
He poked at the food on the plate and nodded.
Yep. Burnt again.
But having food to eat was already a luxury—how could he complain?
The two of them wolfed down their meal in silence. Afterward, the usually quiet Hammond cleaned up, then lifted the blanket.
Looking at the pale, scarred body covered in raised scars from his waist to his chest and down his legs, Hamanda picked up a syringe and plunged it into the flesh, injecting the medicine.
Joey’s teeth chattered from the pain, his face turning ghostly white in seconds, his forehead and back drenched in sweat.
By the time the last shot was given, the veins in his legs were bulging horribly, his body convulsing. He nearly vomited up everything he just ate before collapsing weakly into the blanket.
"Sht, sht, sh*t—"
It hurt like hell!
I swear, once I get out of here, I’m going to kill that bastard Harry myself!
Joey gritted his teeth, enduring the pain until his strength was almost gone.
"This medicine is already the mildest and best available in Sunset City’s reserves. Just bear with it."
Hammond frowned, but softened his voice to comfort him. "Once the snowstorm stops, I’ll get you out of here. As long as you show your face, the government will recognize you and send you back to that man—you’ll get better treatment… and so will your child."
"Mm!"
Joey’s lips trembled as he nodded firmly, tears welling in his eyes.
"Thank you, Hammond."
Seeing the human behaving so obediently and not making a fuss, Hammond managed a rare smile.
He did have faith in the human race. He was also tired of the Third Prince’s cruelty.
After the Third Prince ran away, he seized the chance to escape too. Maybe out of faith, maybe out of guilt, he returned to the ruins, intending to give the human a proper burial.
But when he pried open the mech—he found that the human was still breathing!
Hammond knew it was impossible, but he didn’t think too much about it.
He just felt pure joy, as if he had been granted a path to heaven. He immediately took the human away from the chaos and did everything he could to save and take care of him.
Thankfully, the little human was resilient, struggling through life and death to survive… along with the tiny baby in its belly.
Hammond abandoned his past as an agent. With his skills, he thrived in this city’s underworld instead.
Sometimes, he even thought—if only he could keep the human and the baby here with him. He would take good care of them.
But he couldn’t.
The underdeveloped Sunset City made every day a torment for the human, and the baby’s survival rate was barely 30%.
He had to send them to the Imperial Capital safely!
‘I’m not killing anymore. I’m doing a good deed.’
—Hammond quietly watched the human’s sweat-drenched, curly-haired side profile, his eyes softening.
And a month later—
In the snow-sealed Sunset City, after much anticipation, passenger ships finally reopened.
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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