XXX Street, Hanoi, Vietnam.
Year 2025.
On a crowded, bustling street currently drenched in a torrential downpour.
The stone pavement was freezing and stinging cold; in fact, because it was winter, Quân's entire body was shivering uncontrollably from the chill.
Even so, while his cold hand pressed against the wet street surface, his face was beaded with fine drops of sweat.
After all, nothing could be colder than a corpse, could it?
Quân swallowed hard repeatedly, then looked straight ahead and scrambled awkwardly to his feet.
Not far from him, a girl had been struck by a motorcycle, lying sprawled upon the ground.
Crimson blood stained everything around her, yet because of the dark night sky, the red pool merged into the blackness of the road, becoming invisible. Only the metallic stench of blood lingered, serving as a bitter reminder of death.
Quân stood silently like a mute phantom; a strange high pitched ringing tone buzzed in his ears, resembling the sound of a metal fork scraping across a blackboard.
Quân held his breath then exhaled, taking a breath every two seconds, yet his nostrils flared continuously as though he were forcing himself to breathe.
He gazed toward the crowd rushing over to assist the girl. Some were dialing for an ambulance, while others were restraining a young man who was likely the driver responsible for crushing her body.
Quân looked at the surrounding scene through a hazy, blurred lens. Strangely enough, he did not shed a single tear; his eyelids twitched slightly, yet his expression radiated composure, arrogance, and a deeply unsettling instability.
He reached up to touch his hair, which had long blended into the darkness, taking a slow look at his surroundings. He closed his eyes and opened them again; each time he opened them, rainwater dripped from his hair into his eyes, forcing him to shut them once more.
Quân gently lifted his hand toward his face, intending to wipe away the rainwater, when his arm suddenly froze midair.
Quân let his arm drop like a useless, dangling dead weight, before stepping continuously forward.
He stared at the girl, who wore only a white t shirt that had long been made translucent by the rain, revealing her body beneath. Her pants were disheveled, even exposing her blood soaked lower frame.
Even so, Quân could not stop staring at her waist where her ribs protruded. It seemed to him that she was deeply famished, for her body was pitifully thin—not yet severely malnourished, but so frail that anyone looking upon her would feel hungry on her behalf.
Quân gradually shifted his gaze upward along her body, noticing that the man assisting her was blocking most of her upper torso to perform medical checks.
Yet he still managed to catch a glimpse of her face whenever the man shifted his hands and body.
As the man's hand brushed past, it revealed a fleeting glimpse of a silhouette.
It was... two eyes squinted open, heavily covered by wet black hair, while the remainder of her face was bathed in blood.
That pair of eyes was utterly lifeless, akin to a pair of gemstones.
Though they glittered beneath the flashing glare of lightning, possessing a brilliance hard for anything to rival, they were equally hollow, emotionless, staring blankly straight ahead.
Quân felt as though he had stopped breathing. He found it near impossible to tear his gaze away, yet his heart felt as if it were being bitten by a thousand ants, screaming at him to run away.
Quân was not quite sure. His legs were useless, his hands were useless, and his eyes were no different.
Splatter, splatter...
The sound of splashing rainwater echoed, and from behind Quân, a silhouette with silver hair approached.
He possessed a face somewhat thinner than that of the black haired Quân, yet markedly more mature and composed.
"..."
Quân sensed his presence. In reality, he still recalled that just a few minutes ago, he was inside the hospital.
And now, he was standing right here.
He wanted to turn his head to look at the 'fake' Quân, but he wished to think about nothing at all, as every question that formed in his mind was buried under the pouring rain.
Pitter patter...
The silver haired Quân raised an umbrella to shield the black haired Quân, standing right beside him as they both gazed at the scene unfolding ahead.
"After another three minutes, you will likely regain your composure," the silver haired Quân said, his voice sounding no different from that of a dead man.
Then he waited, waiting until the ambulance arrived to take the girl away.
At that moment, as the black haired Quân watched the vehicle fade into the distance, another voice spoke up from behind.
"Every single time, it takes six full minutes of waiting. I seem to have grown utterly tired of it."
The silver haired one spoke nonchalantly, his tone laced with contempt.
"Besides, no matter how many times I look back at this situation, every time feels like the very first..."
The silver haired Quân said.
"...Who are..."
The words he was about to utter were swallowed right back down. As the ambulance gradually departed, the black haired Quân's heartbeat slowly returned to normal, and his gaze gradually shifted from dreamlike haze back to clarity.
"I am you, yet at the same time, you are not me."
The white haired Quân recounted, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Soon enough..."