Chapter Sixty-Four: A Heart-to-Heart Between Father and Son

At the break of dawn, Guo Zhenghua was already up and getting dressed. Summer mornings in City C brightened early, and it was probably not even five o’clock yet. Stirred from her sleep, Lin Meiru rubbed her eyes in confusion, asking, “So early? Is the bureau that busy?”

Guo Zhenghua had served in the military in his youth, developing excellent habits. After becoming a leader, his daily schedule was highly disciplined unless interrupted by emergencies. He typically rose at six, went jogging with his wife, returned around seven to have breakfast with their daughter, and left at eight. The higher his position, the less likely he was to have his routine disrupted. In City C, a top-tier safe city in China, rarely did anything disturb someone of his rank—rarely enough to alter his daily life.

But yesterday's major incident was unprecedented since the founding of the Federation, and even before that, the entire Central Asia region had never witnessed such a grave situation. At the provincial meeting yesterday, higher-ups hadn’t summoned him directly, but today the police would be organizing comprehensive security measures. High-ranking officers from the police, armed police, and even the military district were all required to attend a meeting! Thinking of this, his resolute features betrayed a rare trace of gravity, but when he turned to his concerned wife, his expression softened.

“Ah, there’s a case; I have to give a briefing.”

Lin Meiru smiled, though she did not feel at ease. Briefings were something her husband had done over a decade ago. At his current level, there was hardly any case that required his personal report. She’d only learned of yesterday’s event through the news, and her husband had been vague about it when he came home—perhaps not to worry her. Still, she sensed that the incident was of extraordinary magnitude.

But since he didn’t elaborate, she didn’t press. Instead, with concern, she said, “Take your time. I’ll make you some noodles.” With that, she tried to get up.

Seeing this, Guo Zhenghua quickly stopped her, “Don’t worry, sleep a little longer. I’m in a hurry—grabbing a bun downstairs will do.”

Lin Meiru shot him a look, “Don’t eat out so much. It’s not safe these days. I’ll make you noodles—it won’t take a few minutes.” Without heeding his resistance, she insisted on getting up.

Seeing his wife’s determination, Guo Zhenghua didn’t object further and quietly went to wash up.

After washing, as he headed downstairs, he paused in surprise. Besides his busy wife in the kitchen, he found Guo Lang already up. This was unexpected—his son had always been lazy, often staying in bed unless disciplined. Back in his school days, Guo Zhenghua’s supervision kept him in line, but after entering university, Guo Lang frequently slept until noon, a habit that displeased his father every holiday. How much could a gaming pod really change a person?

Descending the stairs, Guo Zhenghua, usually strict, couldn’t help but tease, “Well, well, what’s got our young master up so early today? Did the sun rise in the west?”

Seeing his father come down, Guo Lang hurried over with a glass of hot water, attentive, “Morning, Dad!”

Taking the cup, Guo Zhenghua kept a stern face, sitting upright on the sofa and saying stiffly, “I hear from your mother you played the hero yesterday—assaulting a woman in public? Getting a bit lawless, aren’t you? Remember to go to the police station for your statement later—you might even be detained!”

“Dad!” Guo Lang grinned, rubbing his hands, “That’s only because that shrew—uh, that woman—smashed a cup at Mom first. You don’t know how tense it was! If I’d been a moment later, Mom’s lovely face would’ve been scarred. Would I, your usually well-behaved son, have acted out otherwise?”

“Hmph!” Guo Zhenghua snorted, declining to comment. Truthfully, the incident had been a bit satisfying—if his son hadn’t fought back, he’d have been even angrier. A man should show some spirit; if his own mother was bullied and he didn’t retaliate, how could he call himself his son? He couldn’t stand the disgrace.

“Yes, yes, a son heroically saving his mother—impressive, aren’t you?” Lin Meiru brought out two bowls of noodles, giving Guo Lang a playful look. “But you went a bit overboard. The police will mediate at noon—apologize if you should, pay compensation if needed, and don’t cause trouble at the station!”

Guo Zhenghua glanced at his son with a wry smile, “When has our young master ever been gentle? If he’d really tried, he might’ve bashed her head in.”

“Dad!” Guo Lang shot him a look, “Mom’s here—why so gory? Let’s eat. I haven’t had your noodles in ages, Mom!”

“Hmph!” Guo Zhenghua snorted but said no more. It wasn’t appropriate to discuss his son’s business in front of Lin Meiru.

She shot him a glance, laughing, “If you didn’t sleep like a pig every day, you’d have them more often.”

Lin Meiru, a native of City C, made the city’s signature spicy noodles—a dish flavored with scallions, garlic, soy sauce, vinegar, and chili, served with homemade pork bone broth. The bowl gleamed with red oil, making Guo Lang’s mouth water as he devoured it eagerly, so much so that Lin Meiru had to laugh, “Slow down, no one’s stealing it from you.”

Guo Zhenghua, watching this scene, couldn’t help but show a rare hint of tenderness. After a few mouthfuls, Guo Lang exhaled in satisfaction, “Ah, that’s perfect.” Then, offhandedly, he asked, “Dad, aren’t you jogging this morning?”

Guo Zhenghua frowned slightly. He hadn’t planned to, given the urgent matters at the bureau, but since his son brought it up—and he wanted to talk to him anyway—he nodded, “I am. Since our young master is up so early, let’s go for a run together!”

Guo Lang muttered assent, burying himself in his food, inwardly resigned—whatever was coming couldn’t be avoided. He wondered what his father’s attitude would be; surely he wouldn’t turn his own son over to the authorities?

Lin Meiru, sensing something, paused. With her years of understanding her husband, she suspected the two of them were hiding something from her.

“By the way, when are you starting that security job?” Guo Zhenghua abruptly changed the subject.

Guo Lang was caught off guard; his father hardly ever talked this much at the table. He swallowed some noodles and replied, “The interview is Monday.”

“Oh, so you’re free today?”

“Uh… yes.”

Guo Zhenghua hesitated, finally saying, “Today is Uncle Xie’s daughter, Xie Xiaoqin’s, birthday. He’s busy in the city and can’t be with her, so why don’t you go keep her company? You young people have more in common.”

“Huh?” Guo Lang was momentarily confused; he didn’t recall this from his previous life.

“What do you mean ‘huh’?” Guo Zhenghua looked at him, but Guo Lang caught a hint of expectation in his father’s eyes, which made him feel a pang of guilt. He’d always prided himself on being above the social circles of officialdom’s children, which had disappointed his father. After all, he didn’t have any real skills, yet acted superior for no reason. At least those so-called playboys had friends and built connections, while he was utterly useless.

Guo Zhenghua, with his military background, was straightforward by nature, but now as a public official, he couldn’t ignore the importance of relationships, especially in China, where social ties mattered so much. He’d encouraged Guo Lang to attend gatherings among the circle’s youth, but his son had always dismissed them as fake. Did it ever occur to him that these people were polite because of his father, not him? What was he pretending for?

Having thought it through, Guo Lang put down his chopsticks and asked expectantly, “Is she pretty?”

Lin Meiru, who had been worried about her son’s stubbornness causing friction with his father, was caught off guard by this and nearly choked.

“Hey!” Guo Zhenghua brightened, laughing, “So what if she’s not pretty? Even if she is, you’d have to be capable of winning her over!”

“Dad, you’re underestimating your son!”

“Uh-huh, you spent all those years at the teachers’ college and never found anyone, did you?”

“That… that’s because your son has high standards! I just haven’t made a move, okay? This time will be different—you’ll be amazed!”

“Hmph! We’ll see.” Guo Zhenghua snorted dismissively, resuming his meal, but Lin Meiru was delighted. She noticed that, despite his words, a smile was hard to hide on Guo Zhenghua’s face. She looked at her son and thought, “Maybe yesterday was impulse, but today, my son truly seems to have changed—he’s grown up.”

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On Caiyun Road, the district police station was about ten kilometers from the Guo home. Guo Zhenghua suggested they run there, and Guo Lang didn’t hesitate. With his current attributes, even if his father drove, he wouldn’t be able to leave him behind.

They ran for over an hour. Even with his military background, Guo Zhenghua was drenched in sweat by the end, while Guo Lang was perfectly composed, not even breathing hard. Guo Zhenghua was quietly amazed. For a soldier, a ten-kilometer run was nothing—he’d even run longer with weights in the army—but to do so without breaking a sweat was uncanny.

“Not bad, kid. So, what’s with that gaming pod? Did you get teleported onto an alien ship and turned into a superhuman or what?”

Seeing his father getting to the point, Guo Lang laughed. “Dad, you’re getting old—your imagination is stuck in the past. That kind of plot hasn’t been used in years. If movies did that now, who’d buy tickets?”

“Well, then, enlighten your old man—let me see what the younger generation knows.”

Guo Lang explained the general situation to Guo Zhenghua. Having worked in criminal investigation for many years, Guo Zhenghua, though somewhat rigid, was quick to adapt to new things, so Guo Lang didn’t have much trouble making him understand.

“So, you’re saying that because people on our planet have extraordinary potential, we weren’t designated as a world to be invaded, but one to be cultivated. That’s why they’ve tricked you all into becoming these… labor devotees? And our planet is a strategic talent reserve?”

Well, his father’s understanding was still rooted in old fantasy tropes, but that was close enough.

“And you’re saying that, like with Sun Biao yesterday, mass slaughter of ordinary people is not encouraged?”

“Of course!” Guo Lang nodded. “To those so-called gods, everyone here is a potential worker with great promise—how could they allow indiscriminate killing? The system already listed him as wanted yesterday. Even if I didn’t act, other devotees in the city would have come to take him out.”

“I see.” Guo Zhenghua’s face showed a hint of relief. If that was the case, then the situation wasn’t entirely uncontrollable—the Federation and these players might be able to cooperate.

“By the way, Dad, how is the city handling the current situation?” Guo Lang asked curiously. After the world changed in his previous life, not much was recorded about these early, dark times. He’d only heard bits from older people, but not in detail.

Guo Zhenghua’s expression grew serious. “The specific plan will probably come after the World Conference ends. For now, we can only implement emergency measures.”

“What kind of emergency measures?” Guo Lang was interested.

“We’ll start by securing the gaming pods. According to the Commerce Department’s investigation, City C has imported a hundred thousand pods. We’ll gather them in a closed military base for control. But honestly, I’m not optimistic—if all one hundred thousand are as strong as Sun Biao, unless we use nuclear weapons, I doubt we could contain them.”

Guo Lang paused. “Who said all hundred thousand will make it back alive?”