SOP CH18: Seeming Like an Old Acquaintance

Quicksand’s daily schedule was carved into neat, distinct blocks. Waking early in the morning to eat a meal of overcooked bacon and charcoal sausages, spending the afternoon tidying up liquor bottles and cigarette packs in the bar, wiping away the drool left on the glass by drunkards, and sweeping the second floor whenever free time permitted. He came and went through Hearts’s and Diamonds’s rooms as if nobody were there, yet Madam Spades’s quarters resembled a sealed sanctuary he never dared visit, the tip of his broom merely brushing her threshold like a skimming dragonfly before scurrying away.

Ever since the duel to the death, his interactions with Hearts had grown far closer. The two often stole sips of Madam Spades’s private reserve of single malt whisky, clinked bottles together on the terrace, and visited the old church to cross paths with the brightly dyed Clepsydra fighters. Hearts quietly told Quicksand that everyone here was like a tightly clamped river clam, each harboring a secret deep inside.

“You should already know mine by now. As for Doctor Hua at the ‘Super Cheap Clinic’ around the corner, rumor has it he is an immortal blessed with eternal life. And Madam Spades, care to guess her age?”

Back then, the two were chatting on the terrace. Quicksand recalled her image, concealed behind a black veil, her voice raspy and weathered like a cracked, broken fan, and guessed: “Fifty… sixty?”

Hearts smiled: “Multiply that number by four, and you’ll get a close approximation. She was born in the year 1790.”

Quicksand’s tongue knotted, but considering how temporal madness ruled this world, such things were hardly unprecedented, so he reluctantly accepted it.

“What kind of background does Madam actually have?”

“Haha, I find it awkward to pry. All I know is that shortly after the bar was established, she moved in, seemingly an old acquaintance of Diamonds. If you want to know her past, you’d be better off asking Diamonds.”

Quicksand said nothing, his fingers interlacing to construct complex geometric shapes over and over. Diamonds’s mouth was a sheet of steel; one couldn’t pry out his own secrets, let alone someone else’s story.

Noticing the file-axe resting beside Quicksand, Hearts asked in mild surprise: “Where did this weapon come from?” Quicksand said: “A gift from the scrapyard kids. They originally said they’d take it back after the duel, but somehow forgot it in my hands.”

Hearts laughed: “I saw you wield it with remarkable skill during the duel. Why not keep it? If the children come asking, I’ll pay them for it.”

Quicksand nodded in silence, stroking the handle as though greeting an old friend. The file-axe had some years on it, fine scratches etched across the blade, glinting like cold frost beneath the light.

Hearts added: “Though I recall, this was the weapon wielded by Cleaner Quicksand. Surprisingly, it doesn’t look new. I wonder whether it was used for decades, or inherited from a predecessor.”

Quicksand replied, “I didn’t expect the Group to be so stingy, forcing people to use secondhand gear. If I were a time cleaner, I would have jumped ship long ago.”

Hearts roared with laughter. With the battle against the 2030 Branch concluded, the Clepsydra rebels were enjoying a period of rest and reorganization. Leaving the terrace, the two descended to the second floor, where the snow leopard was lounging in Hearts’s room, cables hooked up across its head, data streaming across the holographic screen like star trails.

Seeing them enter, the snow leopard yawned, its tail slumping to the floor like a limp snake:

“You’re finally here? Hurry and massage my shoulders! Processing the data mined from the 2030 Branch has nearly worked me to death!”

Quicksand walked over, petting its lush coat from head to tail under the pretext of massaging its shoulders. Hearts asked with a chuckle: “Thank you for your hard work. What are you working on right now?”

“Cracking the dossier on Cleaner Quicksand. Just a little more to go.”

Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, Quicksand whipped his head around. Data surged furiously across the holographic display, the progress bar reaching the end before a pop-up window materialized.

Hearts and the snow leopard gasped, hurriedly leaning in. Hearts clicked his tongue: “Let me see who this formidable rival really is.” The snow leopard chimed, “He can’t get away now!”

Quicksand’s throat seemed frozen, his Adam’s apple locking in place, until frustrated cries broke out from the pair:

“Why is there nothing here?”

Sure enough, the screen displayed a complete blank. Cleaner Quicksand’s file was a wordless scroll.

“Thinking about it carefully, the cleaners’ headquarters is at the 2035 Branch, and Quicksand is the chief. His records must be top secret, not something we can pry into just yet,” Hearts sighed. Beside him, the snow leopard arched its back in irritation: “All that wasted effort, making me pull all-nighters for days on end!”

Seizing the opening while they bickered, Quicksand quietly slipped out of the room. His ears buzzed incessantly; whenever he heard the name “Quicksand,” his heart hammered against his ribs like an iron sledge. Seeing the file completely blank just now, he had felt an inexplicable sense of relief. His past remained shrouded in dense fog, and deep down, he feared uncovering the truth.

Stepping into his room, Diamonds was nowhere to be found. Quicksand sat on the edge of the bed for a while, feeling increasingly restless.

His eyes caught the picture frame on the bedside table, and he picked it up to take a look. Inside sat a group photo taken on the terrace the night after their victory over the 2030 Branch, capturing the staff of Poker Bar. The background was vibrant and kaleidoscopic, virtual fireworks bursting across the screens. Everyone wore curved smiles, little crescents blooming across their faces, yet Diamonds was missing from the crowd.

Quicksand felt an inexplicable melancholy, as if a puzzle waiting to be completed lay before him, missing only its most crucial piece.

Right then, with a soft rustle, a photo slipped from the frame. It turned out Diamonds had never removed the old picture, merely sliding the new one right over it.

Bending down to retrieve it, Quicksand saw the familiar group photo of the bar’s staff he had viewed before.

The old photograph was yellowed and creased. He counted the faces one by one: an elderly woman in a black veil, Madam Spades; a massive, burly giant, Hearts; a sleek-furred snow leopard, Clubs Cat. And a young boy in a white suit, his hand resting on a top hat pulled down very low.

Looking at the boy, Quicksand’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t inspected it closely before, but now uncovered an astonishing truth:

This person was not Diamonds.

Suddenly, the neon lights outside the window seemed to whirl violently, turning into millions of glass shards driving hard into his chest. Quicksand’s breathing grew ragged and heavy. The boy in the photo had his hat pulled low, the corners of his mouth upturned into a stiff, bashful smile. He possessed a pair of gray eyes, crystal clear and translucent, resembling fine glass.

Quicksand choked on his breath. As though lightning had struck the crown of his skull, he murmured:

“This is… me.”

The boy in the photograph, the youth who had come to Poker Bar long ago and shared hearty laughter with everyone, was none other than his former self.

“Clubs Cat! Clubs Cat!”

Startled awake from its nap, the snow leopard peered toward the door, only to see the gray-eyed youth leaning breathlessly against the doorframe, clutching an old photograph in his hand.

The snow leopard grumbled: “I’m a snow leopard, not a cat! What’s wrong with you?”

Ever since this newcomer had been brought back by Diamonds, he had acted like Arctic ice, cold in both speech and behavior. Seeing such an emotional tempest from him was a first. Thrusting the photo forward, Quicksand asked in a rushed voice:

“When was this photo taken?”

The snow leopard tilted its head, pricking its ears: “I don’t remember. Probably a very long time ago.”

Quicksand pointed his finger at the boy in the picture: “Do you remember who he is?”

The leopard’s ears flicked up and down before it replied with hesitation: “Seems like… a kid who used to help out around our shop long ago. His name was… Yunshi.”

Quicksand’s pupils contracted sharply, his heart thumping wildly. He pressed on: “Is he still here? Where did he go?”

“Disappeared later on.” The snow leopard dropped its whiskers, sifting through scattered fragments of memory. “Strange, where did he go? Seems he worked for a while and then left.”

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the sound striking Quicksand’s ears like the thundering beat of war drums. He hesitated, then asked: “Then why… isn’t Diamonds in the photo?”

“He should be. He was already at Poker Bar back then.”

The snow leopard pondered, suddenly clapping its paws together: “Right! He was always the one taking the pictures, so he probably wasn’t in the frame.”

“Can you magnify this photo to extreme resolution?”

Understanding dawned upon the leopard, and it nodded. Zooming in thirty thousand times on everyone’s pupils, sharpening, removing noise, and deburring the image, a silhouette gradually surfaced: a young man holding a Polaroid camera, dressed in dark black cloth garments with black hair, gesturing toward the group to snap the shot.

“Is this person Diamonds?”

“Probably. I can’t remember exactly when it was taken. That brat always pressed the shutter, and the figure’s build matches him, so it’s likely him,” the snow leopard muttered. “Though why… is his hair black?”

Quicksand remained silent, hearing his own teeth chatter. Cross-referencing the reflections across several eyes, he clearly saw the man’s face, the corners of his mouth curled in a cunning smirk. That was indeed Diamonds’s face.

And right beside that figure, a file-axe stood thrust firmly into the ground.

It was the very weapon once wielded by the Time Entropy Group’s Chief Cleaner, Quicksand. In an instant, Quicksand felt the world spinning like a crazed kaleidoscope, while a terrifying revelation rotated in his mind: before being passed to Cleaner Quicksand, the original owner of this weapon was Diamonds.

A long-sealed secret seemed suddenly stripped bare, revealing a corner of the truth:

An unknown time ago, he had already formed a bond with this bar. Coming here was both destined and a return to old haunts. And Diamonds, who had brought him here, was never truly a rebel; perhaps this man had deceived time and duped the entire world:

Diamonds of Poker Bar had once been a time cleaner.