America: The Cremator

After taking a shower, Su Long stood shirtless in front of the fogged-up bathroom mirror. He raised his hand to wipe away a patch in the center, revealing his handsome face reflected in it.

This body had been suffering from long-term illness and malnutrition, resulting in a sickly, waxy yellow complexion, with the ribs clearly visible.

But at this moment, the person in the mirror had regained a healthy complexion, and his muscles were firm and powerful. Although he was not burly, he possessed a restrained explosive power.

An increase in physical fitness is directly reflected in one's charm stat.

With a charm rating of 15, he might not be quite at the level of a male celebrity, but he could still be considered "handsome."

He dried his hair, changed into clean clothes, and walked out of the bathroom.

Elena's bedroom door was ajar, and warm light shone through the crack.

Su Long pushed open the door and saw Elena sitting on the bed, already dressed in a white silk robe.

The originally simple bed sheets were replaced with deep black ones. The strong color contrast made her fair skin and slender figure stand out even more stunningly, as if she were a figure in a classical oil painting.

She was toying with the antique brass lantern in her hand, the faint flame flickering inside the glass cover.

Seeing Su Long enter, she raised her chin and said, "Come on in."

Su Long walked to the bedside, feigning ignorance, and asked, "Captain Elena, it's late at night, and we're alone together. What... are we going to do next?"

Elena scoffed, "Stop talking nonsense, get in bed."

Su Long’s gaze fell on the back of his left hand, where the clay imprint was faintly visible under the light.

He sighed, with a hint of genuine reluctance.

"Do we really have to remove it? If it weren't for this sculpture, I might have really died in the Otherworld today. It's such a pity."

Elena's eyes instantly turned cold: "I can't sleep if I don't get rid of it."

Su Long wisely shut his mouth, slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, and kept a subtle distance from her.

Elena looked at him, her tone softening slightly: "Last time I was too impatient and tried to destroy its structure with brute force, which only strengthened your connection with it."

"At present, it seems that the only way is to use the light of the sacred object to gradually extract its spirituality."

As soon as he finished speaking, the lantern's originally faint light suddenly brightened, and golden radiance poured out like water, precisely enveloping the back of Su Long's hand.

An indescribable tingling sensation spread from the surface of the skin, traveling upwards along the nerve endings, as if countless tiny ants were gnawing at that stubborn mark.

Su Long could feel that the spiritual power belonging to Elena, which was lingering on the back of his hand, was being slowly dissolved and purified by this light.

Elena adjusted the pillow, lay down on her side, looking somewhat tired: "Let's stay in this position. You can sleep, and I'll control the lantern to slowly erase the mark."

Su Long responded and adjusted himself into a comfortable position, lying down on his side: "Goodnight, Captain Elena."

As the breathing gradually calmed down, the bedroom fell silent.

The next morning, sunlight streamed into the room through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting a hazy glow.

Su Long slowly opened his eyes and immediately raised the back of his hand to examine it. The clay sculpture mark that was originally as black as ink had faded considerably, and the edges had turned a blurry gray.

It seems that Elena's efforts have been quite effective.

He turned his head and saw Elena lying beside him, the lantern still tightly clutched in her hand, not letting go even in her sleep.

Her beautiful long blonde hair was casually draped over the black pillow, with a few strands playfully clinging to her cheeks.

In her sleep, she shed her sharp defenses, her usually furrowed brows relaxed, and she lost some of the competence and authority of a federal agent, gaining more of the gentleness and tranquility of an ordinary woman.

Surong instinctively reached out, his fingertips hovering a few inches above her cheek.

The next moment, a sudden electronic ringtone broke the morning's tranquility, causing Su Long to instantly withdraw his finger.

Elena opened her eyes almost the instant the phone rang, grabbed her phone from the bedside table, and pressed the answer button.

"it's me."

A report came from the other end of the phone, and Elena's brows furrowed, her previously relaxed facial features stiffening.

"Okay... I understand... Keep tracking the trail, I'll be there soon."

Her expression grew increasingly serious as the call continued. After hanging up, she threw off the covers and quickly got dressed.

"I have to go now. The informant who was investigating the organization has gone missing, and today is probably going to be another mess... There's some instant food in the fridge in the kitchen; I can just microwave it for breakfast."

Su Long leaned against the headboard, watching her decisive figure as she walked away, and suddenly laughed, unable to resist teasing her, "Why do you talk like a newlywed wife?"

Elena paused in putting on her coat, turned around and glared at him fiercely.

"FUCK OUT, Sue, I don't have time to banter with you right now."

After saying that, she grabbed the car keys from the table and strode out of the room.

Just as Su Long was about to get up, his phone rang.

He answered the phone, and the familiar, hoarse voice of the manager, Watkinson, came through the receiver.

"Good morning, Su Long. I checked the schedule, and your leave should be over... If your body hasn't been completely ruined by that accident, you'd better get to the branch office as soon as possible today. There's a mountain of work to be done here, and we need you."

"Yes, Manager, I'll be right there."

……

Half an hour later, Su Long pushed open the glass door to the top-floor office of the Seattle Department of Corpse Control.

Watkinson was sitting behind the large desk, while Wells leaned against the filing cabinet next to him, clearly having been waiting for some time.

Upon seeing Su Long enter, Wells immediately stood up straight, a warm smile spreading across his face.

He strode forward and patted Su Long heavily on the shoulder.

"Hey, our great hero! I heard you managed to escape with your life from the other world? Really?"

Su Long nodded, calmly admitting, "That's true."

Wells gave a thumbs up, then, as if remembering something, lowered his voice and asked, "So, how's your lousy landlord doing?"

Surong shrugged: "Unfortunately, he's already gone to heaven to collect rent from God."

A hint of regret flashed across Wells's face, then he asked with concern, "So how are you going to find a place to stay? Are you going to be homeless?"

"That's right, I'm homeless now," Suron said frankly.

Wells' eyes lit up and he immediately said, "Then would you like to consider staying at my house? I have a detached house in Queens, just my daughter and I, and there are plenty of empty rooms."

"No need to pay rent, as long as you can spare some time occasionally to tutor my daughter. You know, Asians are usually very good at math."

Su Long recalled his appalling report card from his school days, especially the incomprehensible formulas in math class, and a polite but awkward smile appeared on his lips.

"This... I'm afraid you'll be disappointed; my math skills are limited to calculating discounted items in supermarkets."

Watkinson coughed behind the desk piled high with documents, interrupting their small talk: "Alright, gentlemen. The reminiscing is over, let's get down to business."

He pulled a report with a photo printed on it from the pile of documents, slid it across the table to the two men, and said seriously, "Now that you're both here, this mission is yours. This situation is more complicated than before, and of course, the allowance will be increased accordingly, since Mr. Su Long is currently the highest-paid employee in our bureau."

Surong and Wells stepped forward, their eyes fixed on the report.

The first line of the report, in bold, states the location of the incident: South Suburbs of Seattle, Industrial Zone 7, Abandoned Cannery.

Watkinson's voice rang out from the side, tinged with seriousness.

"The group of homeless people reported the incident, and the body was discovered last night."

He pointed to the photo with his finger: "Pack all your gear and get ready to go."

"It's been a long time already. If we go any later, something unclean might grow in that place again."

Surong and Wells exchanged a glance, said nothing, grabbed the report, and turned to walk out the door.

"The police report says this guy died a very gruesome death. Be careful, guys."