National Tide 1980.

As Liu Bo listened, he awkwardly put on his protective suit, getting the zipper stuck several times.

But I still can't help asking, "Brother Wang, is this job... safe or not?"

Wang Liang chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "What do you mean by safe or not? You want to know if it's scary or not, right? We're Marxists and Leninists, are we afraid of Japanese monsters and demons? You seem a bit weak on the revolutionary front. Let me tell you, it's really not a big deal. After all, most people die at home. Even if it's suicide, it's just hanging, taking pills, or touching an electric shock. At the very least, they'll have a whole corpse."

"If we're talking about how scary it really is, then we'll have to go with traffic accidents and criminal cases. It's hard to say what the dead people will look like. Severed limbs are considered good; there are all sorts of broken pieces. So you don't need to worry about your eyes being unable to handle it. This is already a fairly common situation. When we go up there, all we have to do is put the body in a body bag, and all you'll see is a human-shaped package."

"If I had to point out what's wrong with this job, I'd say there are only two things. First, carrying a dead person is different from carrying a living person. A dead person is really heavy, and you'll definitely have a sore back after just one trip. Second, it stinks. The stench of a dead person is almost the worst smell in the world. The place we're going to today is alright, I heard it was discovered because the deceased's creditors couldn't contact him and came to collect the debt. It doesn't seem to be seriously corrupt yet. But you still have to be prepared, it's impossible for it to be completely odorless."

"Anyway, you should be content. If you were to encounter an elderly person without children who dies alone at home, that would be truly unfortunate. Because the neighbors wouldn't even notice until the body has completely decomposed. Just imagine what that would be like?"

Wang Liang is a very talkative and enthusiastic person; perhaps this is a common trait among many people in Beijing.

Although it's unclear whether he was trying to embolden Liu Bo or scare him, he rambled on and on, at least giving Liu Bo some basic information about this special job.

For Liu Bo, what he was hearing now was more thrilling than any horror story he had ever heard before.

It not only prepared him mentally for the situation he was about to face, but also had an unexpected and remarkable effect on boosting his spirits.

He had worked all day and then spent half a day outside in the cold, so he was feeling tired and sleepy.

That's great, it's like I've drunk Red Bull, my energy is completely restored.

However, it must be said that there was a side effect, namely that it made his nerves a little too sensitive and fragile.

Sure enough, when the elevator stopped on the twelfth floor and the door opened, Liu Bo was caught off guard and startled to see two uniformed Japanese police officers standing outside the elevator.

As for what happens next, just as Wang Liang had instructed beforehand, from this moment on, we will enter the formal work process.

After Wang Liang took the initiative to step forward and briefly negotiate with the police in Japanese, and handed over the documents issued by Hemu Saiba.

The two policemen nodded to them, had each of them sign a document, and then released them.

However, the two policemen did not approach the door. With obvious expressions of disgust, they pointed in the direction and retreated to the elevator.

At first, Liu Bo was dissatisfied with the police's attitude, feeling that it was too insulting.

When they got there, they realized why—the police weren't disgusted by them, but by the smell in the house.

As Wang Liang said, even though the suicide victim was discovered relatively early and the body was not yet severely decomposed, it still had a smell.

In fact, as soon as they opened the door, a strong, rotten smell that even disinfectant couldn't mask hit them.

Like spoiled dried fish mixed with rotten fruit, the contents of Liu Bo's stomach instantly surged to his throat. He quickly covered his mouth, and tears welled up in his eyes.

He only realized how serious it was at that moment; he had originally thought he could withstand it.

But the gap between reality and ideals was too great; this feeling was so intense it touched his very soul, and he almost couldn't bear it.

That wasn't all. Knowing he was about to witness a suicide, Liu Bo became increasingly terrified as he followed Wang Liang into the room.

They walked all the way into the bedroom and saw a middle-aged woman in pajamas lying on the floor.

The corpse's face was bluish-gray, and the skin on the exposed back of its hands was already wrinkled and loose.

The cause of death has been determined to be alcohol and drugs, but there are no empty bottles of alcohol or open medicine bottles in the room.

It's not hard to guess that these items have already been confiscated by the Japanese police.

"Don't just stand there," Wang Liang's voice came from behind his mask, sounding muffled and heavy. "First, bring over the sheets we brought, and wrap them up gently."

Liu Bo quickly obeyed orders and took out the bed sheet. His back was already soaked with cold sweat, his fingers were shaking like leaves, and he couldn't hold the neatly folded bed sheet firmly.

For no other reason than he suddenly remembered that his grandmother always said that touching a dead person would bring disaster and that the King of Hell would hold a grudge against you.

He used to think that the things he heard when he was a child were feudal superstitions and dross, and he didn't care about them at all, and had even forgotten them long ago.

But at this moment, the scene evoked memories, and I don't know why, but they started running through my mind, and my stomach started churning.

As for Wang Liang, unlike the novice, he showed the composure of a veteran in this situation.

Wang Liang took the initiative, squatting down and gently wrapping the woman's body with a sheet, his movements as light as if he were covering a baby with a blanket.

“We need to wrap it up properly before we lift it. We can’t rush it. We don’t know exactly how long the body has been dead. If we’re not careful, the flesh might stick to the clothes and come off easily.”

Wang Liang's glove brushed against the woman's sleeve, and Liu Bo clearly saw the skin beneath the fabric slightly dented, which startled him so much that he quickly turned his face away.

He is neither afraid of ghosts nor believes in them.

But instinctively, he also couldn't bear to look at death and had a purely physiological fear of his dead kin.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't be afraid. Everyone is scared the first time. Just do it a few more times and you'll get used to it..."

While holding the corpse, Wang Liang comforted the victim, his tone as calm as if he were tending to flowers and plants.

"That's not so bad. To be honest, last month I had the misfortune of running into a family where the old man lived alone without any children. He'd been dead for about a month, and the smell was unbearable. It was enough to give you a headache. After I finished that job, I vomited for half an hour afterwards, and the stench of the corpse had seeped into my skin; even a shower couldn't get rid of it. I can still feel the residue today. But you don't need to worry about that. Anyway, you're just here to help out temporarily; you're luckier than me..."

Liu Bo didn't dare to say a word from beginning to end. He tried his best to suppress the urge to vomit and just kept watching Wang Liang's movements to imitate him.

First wrap the head, then the body, then the feet, and finally wrap it twice like wrapping a glutinous rice dumpling.

"Remember, when you hug someone, support their head first, otherwise their center of gravity will drop and their head will wobble, which will cause problems."

Listening to Wang Liang's repeated and experienced advice, Liu Bo felt as if the contents of his stomach had finally reached the breaking point. He quickly ran into the toilet, took off his mask, and vomited for a while.

He managed to steady himself by grabbing the door frame beside him. "Alright, don't worry about it. Leave the rest of wrapping up the body to me."

Fortunately, Wang Liang was a capable person who took on most of the responsibility and only asked him to do odd jobs.

"When you're done vomiting, go to the living room and get the body bag. Be careful not to touch anything else in the house. Otherwise, if those Japanese police hear you, they'll come in and start nagging again."

Liu Bo gritted his teeth and tried again and again to stand up, but his body was still shaking uncontrollably.

Wang Liang didn't rush him or make fun of him. He was just carefully helping the woman close her eyes, his movements as gentle as if he were soothing a sleeping person.

"See? She has already passed away peacefully."

When Liu Bo returned, Wang Liang looked back at him, pointed to the deceased's relatively peaceful face, and said, "You must learn to relax. You have to think like this. We are the ones who saw her off on her final journey. We are doing good deeds."

You know what, that statement does make sense.

Whether it was because Liu Bo really thought that way, or because he had just vomited and knew that he would soon no longer have to see the deceased's face, Liu Bo's reaction seemed to be less intense than before.

Soon, under Wang Liang's direction, he unzipped the body bag and began to help Wang Liang lift the wrapped body inside.

After finishing this task, Wang Liang began to adjust the position of the corpse.

Then he and Liu Bo, one lifting the head and the other lifting the feet, finally managed to lift the body and begin moving it out.

However, when the weight of the corpse pressed down on his elbow, Liu Bo truly realized how difficult this job was.

Based on his personal experience, it didn't feel like just over 100 pounds; it seemed like it had doubled in weight, making it difficult for two people to lift.

Especially when they were being watched like thieves by two policemen as they walked down the stairs through the elevator.

A profound sense of humiliation at being disrespected and distrusted pierced his self-esteem like a sharp blade.

But he had no time to be saddened or indignant; he simply didn't have time to be distracted.

Because the buildings in Japan are so tall, there are countless steps to get from the twelfth floor to the outside.

His face was hidden behind a mask, and his lenses were fogged up. All he could see was the steep staircase leading down to him, which gave him a sense of extreme danger and helplessness.

"Brother Wang, this job... is really something. This staircase is too steep. Moving this dead body downstairs is more tiring than carrying cement."

Liu Bo, panting heavily, said that after working for eight hours, he genuinely felt that his physical strength was failing him.

"Now you know how hard this job is, right..."

Wang Liang echoed this verbally, but his steps did not stop at all.

"Why do you think we can earn a day's salary for working only two hours? It's because of this: you earn more money by working hard."

"Brother Wang, why did those policemen treat us like that? It was like we were going to sneak into the elevator."

"This is normal. In Japan, no Japanese person would be willing to do this kind of 'unlucky' job, so it ends up falling to foreigners like us from poor countries. Moreover, some people from certain countries do like to cheat and have extremely low moral character. Some Indians and Vietnamese people do actually sneak into the elevator. So in the eyes of these Japanese people, everyone who does this kind of job is a lowly person and cannot be trusted. Naturally, the Japanese police will not respect us."

"Brother Wang, aren't you angry at all about being treated like this?"

"Get angry? What's the use of getting angry? Let me tell you, since you've come out to earn money, the first thing you should understand is that you have to put aside your pride. Let me tell you, our current status in Tokyo is equivalent to that of migrant workers in China, basically worthless. Want to be a big shot? As the old saying goes, 'No pain, no gain.' Besides, if you want to be a big shot, the easiest way is not to come out here. It's called 'Home is best, but leaving home is hard,' understand? You're a young man at the age to make your way in the world, so just focus on your work and stop thinking about other things."

Although Wang Liang's words were rough, the reasoning behind them was extremely clear.

Liu Bo immediately lost his temper and could only suppress his grievances and slowly process everything.

And that's not all. What happened next further proved that Wang Liang's reasoning was correct—if you want money, you have to give up your pride first.

Because just as they walked down a staircase, descended one and a half floors, and were about to reach the safety door on the 11th floor.

The door creaked open, and there stood a Japanese woman in a silk nightgown, holding a leather envelope.

Before they could even get close, the woman stuffed the envelope into Wang Liang's pocket, urging him to hurry up, her smile stiff as if she were wearing a mask.

Wang Liang was quite cooperative. He replied "Don't worry" in Japanese and quickened his pace, leading Liu Bo to continue down the road.

At this point, perhaps because the speed had increased, the body was jolted more violently.

Liu Bo suddenly smelled a sweet, cloying odor mixed with the smell of sweat from his mask, which hit his nostrils—it was the smell of a corpse.

His stomach churned, and he quickly held his breath, but the taste seemed to stick to his throat and wouldn't go away.

“It’s always like this the first time,” Wang Liang said, as if he could see through his discomfort. “It was my first time doing this, and I threw up after carrying it up to the fifth floor. After that, I had to keep carrying it. If you really can’t take it, we can find a floor where no one comes out to rest for a while later.”

These words finally gave Liu Bo a glimmer of hope.

Unfortunately, after he finally managed to carry the person to the 10th floor, he saw another old lady standing in front of the emergency exit.

And like the others, he was clutching an envelope, which he then handed to Wang Liang upon seeing them, muttering in Japanese and bowing deeply.

Wang Liang took the envelope, stuffed it into his pocket, and replied with a "thank you" in Japanese as before, before continuing down the street with Liu Bo.

Liu Bo's hope of getting a break was dashed.

But he was even more surprised that there were people waiting to deliver money at the security doors on both floors, so he couldn't help but ask Wang Liang.

Wang Liang's answer was reasonable, yet it deeply shocked Liu Bo.

"That's a tip. Even the Japanese understand the importance of paying to avoid trouble. These neighbors in the building know someone died upstairs and saw the hearse from the funeral home downstairs; they're afraid of bad luck and want us to leave quickly, so they're willing to wait here and give us some money to hurry up, afraid the bad luck will affect their homes. I told you, the two worst things about this job are that it's tiring and smelly. But relatively speaking, the best thing about this job is that it pays well. Not only is the salary high, but the extra tips are also plentiful. So, I'm sorry, you have to hang in there, keep going! We absolutely cannot stop to rest on floors where people are waiting. After all, they've paid us..." (End of Chapter)