My Avatar Is Becoming the Final Boss-Chapter 76: Sharing

“Restricted-level Esper, ID No. 1002—‘Ji Minghuan’, get up and prepare immediately, the Instructor has a message to deliver.”
He blinked.
What entered his sight was the same silver-white ceiling, and the same surveillance camera.
The harsh, cold lighting poured down like a bug net over a dinner table, only it was hard to tell whether he was the bug or the meal.
Ji Minghuan stared at the surveillance camera for quite a while before slowly looking away.
If the Salvation Society people considered redesigning the camera to look like a penguin, maybe his morning grumpiness would be cut in half.
“Kong Youling and Filio will be coming over shortly, get ready.” The Instructor’s gentle voice came through the speaker embedded in the ceiling.
“Can’t you give a little advance notice?” Ji Minghuan frowned as he spoke, getting out of bed.
Dragging his skinny, skeletal body, he quickly walked to the doorway.
Looking down, he saw two trays on the silver-white floor—one holding toast and milk, the other with toiletries. He crouched to pick up the second tray, then jogged into the restroom connected to the holding cell.
He turned on the faucet, soaked the towel, and wiped his face clean, then squeezed toothpaste onto the brush and scrubbed his teeth—he even made sure not to skip the molars.
Amid the sound of splashing water, he looked up at the mirror above the sink to examine that pale, thin face of his. Then he rose on tiptoes to compare himself against the mirror’s height and realized—he seemed to have grown taller...
Makes sense, he was twelve—it was growth season.
But being locked up in a place like this wasn’t good for development.
The food the researchers provided was nutritious and diverse—textbook-level healthy meals, really—but in this place, nothing looked appetizing. He would’ve rather been at the orphanage sharing roasted sweet potatoes with the other kids.
Unless he was starving, food just didn’t taste the same without someone to share it with. Just like some people drink late at night just for the vibe.
Before long, Ji Minghuan had finished washing his face and brushing his teeth. As for his messy hair—forget it. Disheveled chic was still chic. Every lazy person says that to convince themselves.
Right at the two-minute mark, a sound came from outside. The metal door swung open. Ji Minghuan lay back down and pretended to sleep, turning to face away from the cell door.
A moment later, a cool hand lightly poked the tip of his nose, followed by a gauzy sensation brushing his cheek—it felt like someone had leaned down and accidentally grazed him with soft hair.
“You never used to wake me up.” Ji Minghuan opened one eye and looked at the white-haired girl, a sly smile curling at his lips.
The two were face to face, noses nearly touching, like little animals meeting for the first time.
He was curious why the Instructor hadn’t forbidden physical contact this time, but he pushed the thought aside for now.
Kong Youling sat at the edge of the bed, scribbling in her notebook with a pencil, then held it up.
It read: “You weren’t really asleep. You were faking.”
“You caught me! You’re sharp.” Ji Minghuan sat up and scratched his messy hair.
Under the cold lights, Kong Youling lowered her red eyes, quietly watching him for a moment before handing him the notebook.
Curious, he flipped through a few pages. It was filled with her idle doodles:
An attic under the moonlight, two kids sitting on the rooftop; the frozen clock in the holding cell—looking like it had stopped moving—next to a little scribble: “Time passes so slow, so slow.” Beside it was a cartoon drawing of Ji Minghuan in a Coded Inmate Uniform—with added fox ears.
Ji Minghuan lowered his gaze and quietly looked for a moment, then wrote in the notebook with a pencil:
“Do you have a TV over there?”
“They gave me a lot of discs and a CD player.”
“Lucky you. I’m bored to death in here… What have you watched? Tell me.”
Kong Youling thought for a moment, then wrote: “Kamen Rider Ex-Aid, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Code Geass, Kamen Rider Amazons.”
“Why does it all sound like stuff boys watch?” Ji Minghuan tilted his head.
“Can’t I watch it?” She held the notebook against the lower half of her face, eyes staring directly at him as pale strands of hair tickled the handwriting.
“Of course you can.”
“I figured you’d like it too, so I watched them—so I could share them with you.”
“I knew it. But if I said I already saw all of them, wouldn’t that mean you watched them for nothing?”
Kong Youling paused, then puffed her cheeks slightly like a little snowman swelling up. They used to watch anime together in the computer room, and Ji Minghuan was the one who downloaded them online.
So the CDs she chose from the Salvation Society people were all carefully picked to be ones they hadn’t watched together before—but now he said he’d already seen them all? He must’ve watched them alone!
“Okay, fine, I didn’t actually watch them,” Ji Minghuan said. “I just meant, it’s okay if you watch whatever you like. It’s boring here, no need to do stuff just for me.”
“I liked them.” Kong Youling froze a bit, then shook her head.
“Oh, then that’s good.” Ji Minghuan said. “Tell me the plot. Won’t take much effort.”
So the two kids sat on the bed chatting about those anime and tokusatsu series.
Kong Youling drew while Ji Minghuan hugged a pillow and listened quietly.
Now and then he clicked his tongue, dramatically critiquing her descriptions: “That Kamen Rider Amazons is way too gory and dark. Is that even Kamen Rider? Sounds more like Diary of a Madman—just cannibalism on repeat.”
Kong Youling asked what he did in here every day. Ji Minghuan couldn’t exactly say he just laid around like a corpse, so he said he trained daily—really went hard at it—and claimed he was the next muscle pageant champion!
Then he dropped to the bed and did two push-ups before collapsing like a lifeless body.
Lying on the bed, turning his face away from Kong Youling’s gaze, he actually wanted to say he’d been learning international chess lately… or practicing the art of bondage.
He really wanted to share what he’d seen outside—like how he’d seen Tokyo Tower!
Back when they flipped through travel magazines at the library, Kong Youling always focused intensely, her eyes glowing.
Ji Minghuan had once written: after we leave the orphanage, let’s travel the world together, go see those places. But now he’d seen Tokyo Tower alone—breaking their promise.
He also wanted to tell her… that having a family felt strange. Even if it was a fake one, and would eventually fall apart, it was still kind of nice… having a big brother who looked after him in every way, a sister who didn’t say much but cared a lot;
Of course, there was also a nasty old dad, damn old dad, rotten old dad—tomorrow he’d make a little paper doll in the room to curse him. To avoid blowing his cover, he’d even make a version that looked like Uncle Ghost Bell—so the guy would have to hold back and stay silent!
But whether it was funny or terrible, he couldn’t say any of it to her.
Thinking this, Ji Minghuan lowered his eyes, staring quietly at the silver-white floor for a while… The person he most wanted to share with was right here beside him, but he had to swallow the words. For a kid, there’s nothing sadder than that.
But he thought again: once they got out of this research facility, he’d tell her everything he saw and felt during this time. Share it all—every last bit.
Kong Youling tilted her head, staring silently at his quiet profile. She seemed unsure what he was thinking. After a while, she suddenly reached out and touched his forehead.
The cool, gentle touch startled Ji Minghuan. He turned to look at Kong Youling.
“Sick?” Kong Youling wrote, one character at a time, and held up the notebook.
Ji Minghuan shook his head: “It’s boring here, but seeing you makes it better.”
The white-haired girl thought quietly for a moment, then looked up. Her pale hair gently swayed.
“Me too…” she didn’t write this time, but mouthed the words: “Those shows are only fun when I watch them with you.”
Just then, a loud noise caught both their attention. They turned at the same time.
At the doorway, the metal door suddenly opened. A boy in a black Coded Inmate Uniform stood in the entrance. He stood motionless, head down, eyes blank and cold.