Puzzle Madness

Chapter 37 Solidification
Doudou walked in front and the mathematician followed behind.

The street lights were dim and flickered from time to time; swarms of tiny insects, either moths or flies, formed tiny gray-black clouds and flew around the light sources.

Originally, the mathematician was walking faster - but he always felt a chill on his back, so he stumbled twice and fell behind Doudou. Looking at Doudou's yellow raincoat with bright red spots, he felt a sense of security.

But just now, a massacre had indeed occurred, and the vomit left at the corner of his mouth reminded him:
Didi didi dou——
As they exited the alley, they happened to pass a police car roaring past them. The streetlights were dim, but the flashing red and blue lights of the police car had a neon-like brightness, piercing through the surrounding humidity. But with just a fleeting glimpse, they passed through the mist of oil rising from the barbecue stall and entered the residential complex.

The mathematician hunched his neck, almost burying his entire head in his shirt collar; Doudou stood in place, turning his head and eyes like an ostrich, following the police car until it disappeared.

The food stalls, snack shops, and barbecue stalls in the alley also fell silent for a moment as the police car passed by.
Then the hustle and bustle returns; this is what midnight in Mong Cai is like.

So the two of them continued walking forward: no one noticed them in the streets filled with people playing dice, fifty-five, finger-guessing games, tape recorders singing loudly, and diners whispering after drinking.

Mathematicians don't know where they're going either--
After the shock and terror just now, the courage to control one's future destiny had long gone along with the lives of those corpses; they were just like sheep, following the shepherd.

But innate curiosity is another matter. After hesitating for a moment, the mathematician gave in to this uncontrollable desire:

"Doudou, you... do you practice Qigong?"

Doudou turned his head and glanced at him, his eyes full of doubts:
"No. I saw in a magazine that there were correspondence courses where they would send me videotapes or something like that."

"But I'm not sure if practicing qigong will affect young people's growth or cause other health problems. So I didn't buy it or learn it."

The mathematician frowned and chose another possibility that came to his mind:
"So you have special abilities? Like telekinesis or something? Aren't there always programs on TV that talk about that kind of thing?"

Doudou jumped up and down, his toes raised from time to time with his steps:

"Special abilities? I don't know; I don't think I have anything that amazing."

"I'm just strong—quite strong, I guess."

[.Stronger. Stronger? You're just stronger???]

The mathematician's ten fingers were about to tear the cardboard box in his arms.

Doudou turned his head and stared at the cardboard box held tightly in the mathematician's arms. It was already deformed, and now the materials inside were even more twisted.
They went out from the back door of Tianhu Community, but the mathematician did not take the pistol he dug out from the sofa. Instead, he hugged his box of materials tightly.

"Um, Math Uncle." Doudou leaned in closer, glancing at the wrinkled words on the cardboard box. "Oh! That was tear gas just now. Aren't your eyes swollen anymore? You seem to be recovering pretty quickly."

"And now we're running for our lives, so why are you still carrying this box? I thought scholars of your caliber kept everything in their heads."

Doudou couldn't make out the hieroglyphic formulas and numbers on the draft paper - he had never measured his intelligence level, but he just couldn't learn math well; it was as if he was born with a weak spot in this area.

The mathematician shook his head and hugged the cardboard box tighter: it was unclear whether he was answering Doudou's question or simply didn't want to discuss this topic with him.

Doudou always felt that there was something strange about this. But thinking about the math summer homework that he hadn't finished yet, he just let it go.
The two walked a few more steps, and the mathematician, as if finally opening up, took the initiative to speak again:
“Um, DouDou. You know—did you ever have a pet when you were little? If your pet died, your parents would tell you they were sent to relatives in the countryside, right? A lot of people tell kids that, but actually the cats and dogs are dead.” “And, I mean: you know all those people before you died, right? Not that they were knocked unconscious and then fell into a deep sleep or something—they died forever? Killed? Can't move anymore? Will never appear in this world again.”

"Do you understand me? Did I make myself clear?"

Doudou frowned and squinted his eyes—but then his face turned into a bright smile:
"Of course I know—you saw me rip him in half. How could I not know? You take me for a kid. Oh! You're making a Batman joke. Hahahaha, you're quite funny."

The mathematician didn't understand what Doudou meant by the Batman joke, but he didn't dare pretend to agree.

"So tonight isn't your first time killing someone, is it?"

But - he just couldn't suppress the curiosity that was bursting out from within him; perhaps it was this bizarre night that made the mathematician want to know more even at the risk of his life.

The mathematician suddenly raised this question. As if sensing the answer to this question, he continued:
"What were you thinking about when you killed someone? What were you feeling?"

They just walked under the street light, and the bright light from above made the mathematician's glasses sparkle, making it impossible to see his eyes.

Doudou stopped and turned around. He looked at the mathematician with interest and suddenly smiled:

"Oh! Glad you asked me. I've wanted to talk about this before, but no one asked me."

"Actually, I don't really feel like I'm killing people. I feel like I'm solidifying their relationship with me. For example, if you die here now, your relationship with me will never change, won't it become eternal? You will always be my neighbor, and your identity to me will never change."

"Otherwise, if you move away, you'll no longer be my neighbor. Well, who wouldn't die? It seems like such people don't exist in real life."

"I read in a book that humans are the sum of their social relationships. So I thought, a human being needs friends. But what are friends? How can there be friends without enemies to distinguish them? But as for enemies—look, there are a lot of bad people, right? But bad people can't kill me."

"If they can't kill me when they're my enemy, then they'll want to be my friend, or stay away from me—that's going to be troublesome. I don't want to be friends with bad people, I need bad people to be my enemies. And if the bad people run away, then the relationship between us won't be pure anymore. What if they want to be friends with me secretly? That would be so presumptuous!"

"So—whenever I meet a bad guy, he dies: he will be my enemy forever! The rest of the people can be my friends. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it?"

"Those people just now wanted to capture you, kidnap you, or kill you, didn't they? And they broke into someone's house without permission, so they must be bad people - oh yeah! They even walked into someone's house with their shoes on, they are so scary."

Doudou paused, then started walking again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, feeling embarrassed.
"Ah, indeed; it is clear when I think it, but it comes out all jumbled up, oh no."

The mathematician walked behind. He felt as if his heart suddenly turned into a heavy stone, smashing along the xiphoid process of his sternum into his stomach, and suddenly dragging his body.
"No, it's okay. I see what you mean. You're very articulate—er, you make your point very well."

"I will never move away. I will live in Tianhu Community for the rest of my life. I will be buried here even if I die."

He lowered his head and scratched his scalp near his temple. The tape on the legs of his glasses was wet by the cold sweat that suddenly overflowed from his scalp, and it was sticking to his ears and making him feel uncomfortable. At this moment, he realized that his situation was even worse than he had imagined, much worse.
The only one who can help him now is the mathematician. He doesn't know what to call Doudou - but one thing is for sure, it is definitely not a human being.

(End of this chapter)