Tokyo at 4:00 AM was filled with a chill that felt like an invasive snake, slithering through collars and sleeves to bite at the skin.
Cuiyue tightened her hoodie and walked quickly through the empty streets.
Her senses had been pushed to their limit by her ability; even the drunken mumbles from two streets away were captured clearly.
Finally, near a bench in a small park not far from home, she caught a familiar scent—the smell of cheap alcohol mixed with the greasy residue of ginger pork, and… a faint hint of blood?
Cuiyue’s heart tightened, and her body turned into a blurry afterimage as she rushed forward.
“Mr. Sato!”
Under the bench, a dark figure was curled up like a discarded trash bag.
Cuiyue pulled him up and, by the dim yellow light of the streetlamp, saw his face clearly.
Thankfully, the blood was only from a scrape on his forehead, likely caused by a fall rather than an attack.
Sato’s face was flushed, and he reeked of alcohol, mumbling incoherently.
“Hehe… a gift…”
He clutched a crumpled pink plastic bag tightly in his arms.
The tension in Cuiyue’s chest finally relaxed, replaced by an indescribable sense of bitterness and helplessness.
“Seriously… how old are you now…?”
She sighed and easily hoisted the grown man onto her shoulder.
For her current self, this weight was nothing.
***
Back at the cramped, low-rent apartment, Cuiyue tossed Sato onto the sagging old sofa.
“Water… water…”
Sato groaned as he rolled over.
Cuiyue went to the kitchen to pour a glass of warm water, helped him drink it, and then used a hot towel to wipe the blood and grime from his face.
The warmth brought Sato back to his senses slightly.
He struggled to open his swollen eyes and smiled foolishly at the busy girl in front of him.
“Ah… Cuiyue… did you come to get me?”
“Yeah. If I didn’t, you would have been hauled away as non-combustible trash,” Cuiyue said crossly.
“Hehe… sorry…”
Sato struggled to sit up and presented the crumpled pink bag to her like a prize.
“Here! This is for you!”
Cuiyue blinked, stunned, and took the bag.
Inside was a beautifully packaged small box printed with an elegant pattern and gold-leaf lettering—Quiet Dream.
It was a high-end incense.
“This is…”
Cuiyue was surprised.
This item didn’t look cheap; it had to cost several thousand Yen.
“Today… I went to the construction site to move bricks for a day… Hehe, even though they let me go, these old bones are still pretty sturdy…”
Sato scratched his head, his eyes dodging hers.
“I got my daily wages and originally wanted to buy you something good to eat. But when I passed the mall, I saw all the girls fighting over this. I thought… Cuiyue is a girl too, she would definitely like something fragrant like this, right? You’re always suffering with a useless old man like me… I’ve never even given you a decent gift…”
“On the way back, I ran into some old colleagues… they insisted I have a drink. I wanted to refuse, but…”
His voice grew smaller.
“Then my phone died… I wanted to walk back, but… but my legs wouldn’t listen…”
Cuiyue’s grip on the small box tightened.
She looked at the disheveled middle-aged man with a Band-Aid on his forehead.
He could barely survive himself, yet his only thought was to turn the money from a day of hard labor into a gift to please her.
“…Thank you.”
Cuiyue lowered her head, her voice muffled.
“I like it very much.”
“As long as you like it! That’s all that matters!”
Sato laughed with relief.
Then, the alcohol surged again, and his head lolled to the side as he fell back asleep.
Cuiyue draped a blanket over him and returned to her small room.
She sat at her desk and opened the exquisite packaging.
A faint, refreshing fragrance wafted out.
She took out an incense cone and lit it.
As the white smoke spiraled upward, the scent of Quiet Dream quickly filled the small room.
Cuiyue took a deep breath, feeling her frayed nerves being smoothed over by gentle hands.
Even the anxiety from rejecting that high-risk mission dissipated quite a bit.
‘It really is… a good thing.’
She murmured to herself and turned on her old computer, habitually logging into her email to see if there were any “legitimate” part-time job postings.
A single unread email sat quietly in her inbox.
The sender was an unfamiliar ID of random characters, but the subject line made her eyes narrow.
[Special Talent Recruitment Invitation — To Miss Cuiyue]
Dear Miss Cuiyue: We have taken note of your ability demonstration at the GSAC Certification Center. In view of the upcoming GSAC, the Special Response HQ (Special Incidents Response Headquarters) cordially invites you to join the Special Response HQ Unit One currently being formed.
As a Special Advisor, you will receive a stipend equivalent to a national civil servant, along with an additional nutrition allowance.
If interested, please proceed to the following address at 9:00 AM tomorrow for an interview…
Attached was an address, an electronic pass, and the joint logo of the Special Response HQ and the DRG.
The Special Response HQ?
Cuiyue stared at the screen, her fingers tapping lightly on the desk.
She had rejected that “Handler’s” underground job, and she hadn’t expected the official olive branch to be extended so soon.
‘This seems… like a good choice.’
It was an established organization, had high pay, and most importantly—it was legal.
In this turbulent world, nothing could protect her and those around her better than an official status.
Furthermore, a base salary of 500,000 Yen was enough to give her and Sato a decent life, so the old man wouldn’t have to haul bricks at a construction site anymore.
The main issue was that the Special Response HQ was an organization she had been in conflict with before…
Cuiyue did some research on this so-called Unit One and the training base, discovering it was jointly established with the DRG.
Since it involved the DRG…
Ever since she had met that mysterious Missy, the FBI hadn’t come to “open the door” at her apartment.
And if the DRG’s relationship with the Special Response HQ was good enough to co-host this, then why did things go south so quickly that night?
She couldn’t figure it out.
But at the very least, it proved that the Special Response HQ wouldn’t make a move against her in the open.
‘Since I don’t want to be a sewer rat…’
Cuiyue watched the rising smoke, a hint of determination flashing in her blood-red eyes.
‘Then I’ll try being a government-fed cat.’
***
The next morning, the sky was gloomy with a light drizzle.
Cuiyue changed into a pair of black cargo pants and a windbreaker suited for movement.
She still wore the black mask that covered half her face, leaving only her signature Blood Pupils exposed.
Following the address in the email, she arrived at the training base next to the Special Response HQ building in Chiyoda.
After showing her electronic pass, the heavy iron gates slowly opened.
A uniformed staff member led her to an indoor training ground.
“Please wait here. The supervisor will be here shortly.”
Cuiyue nodded and stood alone by the edge of the vast training ground, taking in her surroundings.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the other end of the corridor.
A woman with short brown hair walked over, carrying a stack of files.
When their eyes met, Cuiyue’s pupils contracted slightly.
It was her!
The lightning ability user who had attacked her in that server room right after she had transmigrated!
Although the scene had been chaotic back then, Cuiyue would never mistake that face.
The woman also stopped, looking at the masked girl with some suspicion.
“Who are you?”
The brown-haired woman frowned, scanning Cuiyue from head to toe.
Cuiyue’s heart climbed into her throat, and her palms subconsciously tightened, ready to activate “Wanhua” at any moment.
If she was recognized…
“Hmm? Those eyes…”
The brown-haired woman stepped closer, a hint of confusion flashing in her deep gray eyes.
“Have we met somewhere before?”
Cuiyue forced herself to remain calm and lowered her voice to sound raspy.
“I just have a common face.”
The brown-haired woman stared at her for a few seconds before finally shaking her head and walking away.
Cuiyue breathed a sigh of relief and was soon led inside the gymnasium.
A woman with wine-red hair standing by the door reached out.
“I’m Reina Hayami. You must be the newcomer? I’m also in Unit One.”
Cuiyue took her hand for a brief shake.
“Cuiyue.”
“Everyone, gather up!”
a middle-aged man’s voice called out.
The supervisor entered the training ground with several people in uniform.
Besides Reina Hayami, there was a tall man with sharp eyes and a buzz cut (Kenichi Matsumoto), and a gloomy, cold-looking purple-haired boy (Tsubasa Kubo).
And then there was the youth walking at the very front.
He wore a white hoodie and simple black pants.
He had slightly messy black hair and a pair of warm Golden Eyes.
Cuiyue’s eyes flashed with surprise.
It was him!
The boy who was always with Jiang Jian Yue!
Yuki Asahi’s gaze fell on Cuiyue.
His footsteps paused for a fraction of a second, and a clear look of surprise and bewilderment flashed in his Golden Eyes.
Clearly, he had also recognized this “bootleg Jiang Jian Yue” he had seen in front of the Shinjuku cafe.
Their eyes met.
Yuki Asahi gave her a deep, searching look before calmly looking away as if nothing had happened.
“Since everyone is here, let’s begin.”
His voice was steady, devoid of any ripples.
“I am the Captain of Special Response HQ Unit One, Yuki Asahi. Welcome, new member.”
The subsequent entry test and self-introductions went unusually smoothly.
Cuiyue gave a simple demonstration of her “Wanhua” ability and then joined the cooperative training.
Her addition didn’t cause any particular waves.
Throughout the process, Yuki Asahi remained quiet and treated Cuiyue with the same impartiality as the others, as if they were truly strangers meeting for the first time.
Only when the training ended and everyone was dismissed did Yuki Asahi pass by her.
In a voice low enough for only the two of them to hear, he whispered, “The pay here… is higher than at the cafe.”
Having said that, he didn’t wait for Cuiyue to react.
With a healthy smile on his face, he gave her a thumbs-up and strode out of the training ground.
He left Cuiyue standing there alone, stunned in the wind.