The young girl’s cold and exquisite face was tinged with a faint blush from her focused explanation and their current proximity.
Her long eyelashes trembled slightly, and her ruby-like eyes clearly reflected his image.
Time seemed to freeze.
Only the sound of their slightly heavy breathing remained in the living room.
The air was filled with a thick, sweet ambiguity, and every breath felt as if it carried a faint electric current.
In the soft depression of the sofa, the open workbook was completely forgotten.
Yuki Asahi swallowed, a hint of nervousness and something deeper flashing in his Golden Eyes.
He looked at her flushed cheeks and her lips that were inches away; a powerful impulse surged in his heart.
He took a deep breath, as if having made a firm decision.
He gazed intently at Jiang Jian Yue, his voice thick with tenderness.
“Yue…”
“Last time, you helped me. This time, let me make you feel good.”
“…Eh?”
“Wait, wait!”
***
Ten days were enough to turn a person’s life upside down.
Ten days ago, Cuiyue was still an “illegal worker” making 1,000 yen an hour at a chain coffee shop in Shinjuku.
Now, she had quit that exhausting, low-paying job.
The reason was simple — she had found a livelihood better “suited” for her.
She relied on her own bits of effort and a superpower that had come from who-knows-where.
At 11:00 PM, the light pollution of the city reflected against the night sky in an ambiguous purplish-red.
On the outskirts of Shinjuku, inside the small, old low-rent apartment belonging to Uncle Sato, sat the small room that belonged to his daughter.
The low hum of an old desktop computer tower filled the air as the cold light of the screen illuminated Cuiyue’s calm face.
She casually gathered her signature pale gray hair into a loose ponytail, letting a few stray strands fall against the side of her pale neck.
She wore a rough-textured gray hoodie.
Her fingertips tapped rapidly across the greasy keyboard, moving so fast they almost left afterimages.
However, her gaze was locked onto a second-hand smartphone with a shattered screen.
On the screen was the Telegram chat interface.
This was an encrypted, anonymous group codenamed “Adventurer Bulletin Board.”
It was a “Superpower User” underground black market that Cuiyue had finally reached after days of fumbling through the deep alleys of online information.
There were no Hollywood-style grand conspiracies here, nor were there slogans about saving the world; there were only raw missions and rewards.
The demands were varied, ranging from “teaching a cheating husband a lesson” to “making a competitor’s server ‘accidentally’ crash.”
The rewards were consistently paid in hard-to-trace virtual currency, a gray area existing outside the world of sunlight.
In this group full of strange codenames and people with unknown backgrounds, “Cinder” was the newcomer who had risen the fastest and remained the most mysterious.
No one knew the nature of her ability; they only knew that with startling efficiency, she had taken five consecutive bounties marked as “high difficulty” and “perfectly completed” every single one of them.
Cinder: I have the items.
She sent a short message.
The client, codenamed “Handler,” replied almost instantly.
Handler: Photos.
Cuiyue took a small SD card out of her pocket and inserted it into a card reader connected to the computer.
With a light click of her mouse, a set of recently taken photos was quickly uploaded.
The location in the photos was clearly the interior of an extremely luxurious dormitory.
The lens focused not on secret documents or valuables, but on a row of gorgeous performance costumes covered in sequins and rhinestones hanging in an open closet.
There was also an unofficial rehearsal schedule handwritten on a piece of paper taped to the wall, clearly listing the names of five girls and their time slots.
Recalling the infiltration from twenty minutes ago, Cuiyue still felt it was a bit absurd.
‘Is DRG’s security really that lax?’
But thinking about it carefully, that building was part of the entertainment industry; there probably wasn’t anything worth guarding heavily.
Handler: Excellent. The private rehearsal schedule for “Southern Cross”… This is exactly what I wanted.
Handler: The final payment has been made.
Almost simultaneously, Cuiyue’s phone vibrated.
Her encrypted wallet received a virtual currency transfer equivalent to 500,000 yen.
This was an amount she couldn’t have earned in two months of working at the coffee shop.
Cuiyue closed the chat box and let out a long sigh, leaning back against the chair.
The sense of security brought by money finally allowed her nerves, which had been tense for ten days, to relax slightly.
Uncle Sato had eventually been “asked to resign.”
This decadent middle-aged man now spent his days queuing at the public employment office and his nights drinking cheap canned beer.
Cuiyue didn’t look down on him.
Instead, she used the first bit of “black money” she earned to buy him several cartons of expensive cigarettes and a bottle of real whisky.
Uncle Sato had hugged the bottle and cried like a child.
‘A drop of kindness should be repaid with a fountain of gratitude.’
Cuiyue felt she hadn’t shamed her home country.
Handler: Cinder, your ability is very special.
The other party didn’t disappear after settling the final payment as usual.
Handler: Are you interested in taking on a truly big job?
Cinder: How big?
Handler: Five hundred.
Five hundred million yen?
Cuiyue blinked, subconsciously starting to calculate the exchange rate in her mind.
No, that wasn’t right.
“One” usually referred to one virtual coin.
According to current market prices… five hundred virtual coins?!
Cuiyue felt her heart twitch.
Handler: Just kidding. Fifty.
Handler: But the deposit can be ten upfront.
Ten coins was over 100 million yen!
That was a massive sum, enough for her to buy a small apartment in Tokyo.
Cuiyue forced herself to calm down.
She had been lurking in the group for a long time and had seen several superpower users disappear after greedily taking on “Red Orders.”
Cinder: What is the mission?
Handler: Tonight’s mission was only to confirm if you have the ability to handle our next task.
Handler: As it turns out, you are even better than I imagined.
As expected, secretly photographing idols was just the appetizer.
Cuiyue sat up straight, her blood-colored pupils flashing with a wary light in the darkness.
Handler: Do you know DRG?
Cuiyue’s heart sank.
How could she not know?
There was that girl who looked exactly like her, like a “lite version” — Jiang Jian Yue.
And then there was the giant behind her, the organizer of the GSAC, the Dawn Resources Group.
Cinder: I know them.
Handler: Good. DRG’s temporary headquarters in Japan is located in Toshima, in a building called “Jiang Jian Apartment.”
Handler: It is heavily guarded now. The security deployment plan for the GSAC is stored on the servers there.
Cuiyue’s fingertips turned cold.
Infiltrating Jiang Jian Apartment?
The headquarters of DRG?
This wasn’t just “dangerous”; it was suicide!
Those “Red Orders” were mostly related to DRG, and everyone who took them ended up dead!
Handler: Don’t be afraid. I don’t need you to fight your way in.
Handler: We have already penetrated 70% of DRG’s security system. We need an “insider,” a “ghost” who can physically connect our USB drive.
Handler: The night after tomorrow, while we create a distraction, you only need to sneak into the Central Computer Room, plug this in, and stay for three minutes.
Handler: After three minutes, leave with the USB drive. Fifty Bitcoins will be yours.
The other party sent a photo of a USB drive and a simplified internal map.
The temptation was enormous.
Cuiyue stared at the number “fifty,” her throat feeling dry.
With that money, she could leave Japan immediately, go somewhere where no one knew her, and start a brand-new life.
She could even…
No.
Cuiyue shook her head violently, throwing all those unrealistic delusions to the back of her mind.
Cinder: The risk is too high.
She typed those words.
Handler: High risk, high reward, Cinder. Isn’t that why you joined the group?
Cinder: I only do what I am capable of.
Handler: ………
The other party went silent.
Cinder: I refuse this mission.
Cuiyue’s finger firmly pressed the enter key.
She knew that behind this “Handler” was most likely the Japanese government’s “Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu” mentioned on the GSAC website, or some other mysterious organization also eyeing the GSAC.
But no matter who it was, she didn’t want to get involved in a fight between titans.
She just wanted to live well.
Handler: …What a pity.
Handler: You will regret this, Cinder.
Handler: There won’t be such a good price next time.
The other party went offline.
Cuiyue let out a long breath, realizing her back was soaked in cold sweat.
She shut down the computer and unplugged the power.
Silence returned to the room.
She rubbed her aching temples and glanced at the time.
it was almost 1:00 AM.
“Mr. Sato… should be back by now, right?”
She pushed open the door.
The living room was pitch black, illuminated only by the faint moonlight streaming through the window.
That middle-aged man, who was usually slumped on the floor drinking while watching late-night shows… wasn’t there.
“…?”
Cuiyue frowned.
She walked to the entryway; Sato’s shoes were gone.
She walked to the kitchen, where the ginger pork she had made in the evening was still on the table, covered in plastic wrap.
Not a single bite had been taken.
Although Mr. Sato was decadent, he was a “homebody.”
After he was laid off, he almost never went out at night except to go to the employment office during the day.
Even if he did go out, he would send her a message saying, “Grabbing a drink with an old friend tonight, don’t wait up.”
Cuiyue immediately grabbed her phone and dialed Sato’s number.
“The number you have dialed is powered off or in an area without reception,”
the cold, mechanical female voice informed her.
Couldn’t get through?
She checked LINE, but there were no messages from Sato.
Maybe… maybe his phone just ran out of battery.
Maybe… he really just drank too much and collapsed in some izakaya.
‘It’s fine.’
She went back to her room, but she could no longer calm her mind.
She lay on the bed with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
2:00 AM.
3:00 AM.
The first faint chirp of a bird came from outside the window.
Cuiyue sat up abruptly.
She couldn’t wait any longer.
She had seen many shocking facts in the group — Japan had become extremely dangerous.
The government’s cost of maintaining public order was increasing by the day, reflecting the social unrest.
Something must have happened to Uncle Sato.
She rushed into the living room and rummaged through the wrinkled briefcase Uncle Sato had left on the entryway cabinet.
Inside was his employment office registration card and his driver’s license.
Could she find him with these things?
She had no other choice.
She no longer hesitated.
Grabbing the keys from the table, she put on her most practical sneakers.
She pulled open the apartment door, and the cold wind of 4:00 AM hit her in the face.
Cuiyue pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt, covering her conspicuous pale gray hair, and blended into the deepest darkness before the dawn.
She had to… find him and bring him back.