The pungent smell of disinfectant was the first sensory stimulus to awaken consciousness.
Hanyu Suoluo forced his eyes open a crack.
In his line of sight was a stretch of pure white ceiling, followed by the monotonous sound of liquid dripping in an IV tube.
“Suoluo! You’re awake!”
A startled cry tinged with tears exploded in his ear.
Before he could turn his head, a face streaked with tears came close—it was Kagegaya Tsubaki.
And behind her, Kazama Yin leaned against the wall, arms crossed in an attempt to maintain a cool pose, but his bloodshot eyes betrayed his inner anxiety.
“Tsubaki… and…”
Hanyu Suoluo opened his mouth. “Did I… survive?”
“You’re lucky to be alive.”
The hospital room door opened, and two men in dark suits walked in, each carrying a Metropolitan Police Department badge on their chest.
“Hanyu, I’m an investigator from the Special Countermeasures Division of the Metropolitan Police Department. We need to ask you a few routine questions.”
Kagegaya Tsubaki protectively stepped in front of the hospital bed. “He just woke up! The doctor said he’s still very weak—”
“It’s okay, Tsubaki.” Hanyu Suoluo gently patted the girl’s arm, signaling her to step aside. “I want to know what happened too.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, the questioning became extremely tedious and oppressive.
The police didn’t reveal much information; instead, they kept extracting details about last night’s battle—the poison fog from the pot-bellied man, the long-armed monster’s attack pattern, and the power Hanyu Suoluo had unleashed at the end.
“According to the current investigation, you may have gotten caught up in a terrorist attack targeting Ability Users.”
The older officer closed his notebook with a grave expression. “This wasn’t a normal street fight.”
Hanyu Suoluo’s mind flashed back to that foul green poison fog.
“We’ll increase patrols around the school. But as the parties involved, here’s some advice: in the future, try to stay with crowds. Don’t go off alone, and don’t try to play hero.”
The officer gave Hanyu Suoluo a deep look. “Your ability is special, but against terrorists of that level, just surviving is already a miracle.”
After the police left, the hospital room fell into a strange, dead silence.
Kazama Yin stepped forward, poured a glass of warm water, and handed it to Hanyu.
Hanyu Suoluo took the cup but didn’t drink.
He looked down at his reflection on the water’s surface—the face was pale, yet clearer than ever before.
His hand unconsciously went to his chest, where there had once been a “lock” that had sealed away his memories and his life.
“Yin, Tsubaki… there’s something I didn’t tell you.”
His voice was soft, but it made both companions’ hearts skip a beat.
“Last night… in that poison fog, I remembered some things. About my ability.”
Hanyu Suoluo lifted his head, his eyes devoid of the relief of surviving a disaster, instead revealing a calm that came from seeing through life and death.
“The doctors used to say I was a psychokinesis user. That was to protect me. Actually, I’m a Dual-core Cicada Molt Body.”
“Dual-core… Cicada Molt Body?” Kagegaya Tsubaki repeated the term in surprise.
“The second ability can unleash power that multiplies geometrically, like burning fuel.” Hanyu Suoluo gave a bitter smile, his fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly. “But that kind of burning uses life force as fuel.”
Kazama Yin abruptly stood up straight. “Are you saying… the cost is…”
“Yeah.”
Hanyu Suoluo nodded, his tone as casual as if he were talking about tomorrow’s weather.
“Last night, to break through the poison fog, the cost was… about half my remaining lifespan.”
“Half?!”
Kagegaya Tsubaki covered her mouth, tears instantly streaming down her face.
The sobs she had just stopped burst out again.
“What do you mean half your lifespan… That means you’ll die decades before us, right? How could you—”
“Don’t cry, Tsubaki.”
Hanyu Suoluo reached out to wipe her tears, only to find his own hand trembling slightly.
It wasn’t fear; it was weakness from excessive physical strain.
“If I hadn’t done that, I’d have been dead last night. That’s a pretty good deal, isn’t it?”
Hanyu Suoluo looked at his two grieving friends, but a warmth surged in his heart.
He switched to comforting them. “Come on, don’t make it sound like a memorial service. I’m still alive and kicking, aren’t I?”
Just then, the TV hanging on the wall suddenly switched images.
“We interrupt this program with breaking news. Regarding the massive terrorist attack at the Old Site of the Crimson Project, new developments have emerged…”
The news showed a battlefield reduced to rubble, with black smoke rising from broken walls.
Several stretchers covered in white sheets were loaded onto ambulances.
As the camera shook, dark red bloodstains could faintly be seen seeping through the white cloth.
“According to reporters on the scene, multiple SAAC members and civilian helpers were killed in action. The casualty count is still being tallied…”
Watching the tragic scenes on the news, Hanyu Suoluo’s smile gradually faded.
“See,” Hanyu Suoluo said softly, his gaze firm. “Compared to those who can never wake up again, I really am lucky.”
……
Seoul, South Korea.
The night view here was even more dazzling and bizarre than Tokyo’s. The surface of the Han River was dyed a psychedelic purple.
In the living room of a villa, in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, Jiang Jian Yue stood with her back to the door, swirling a glass of crimson liquid.
She didn’t turn around, but the oppressive pressure like needles on the back made Koji Hattori, who had just entered the room, go weak in the knees.
“You’re alone?”
Jiang Jian Yue’s voice was light, impossible to read for anger or pleasure, but it made Koji Hattori drop to his knees instantly, his forehead pressing against the ice-cold marble floor.
“Family Head… I have failed you!”
Koji Hattori’s voice trembled, cold sweat soaking the back of his shirt in an instant. “Shadow Girl… Shadow Girl… was not brought back.”
“Oh?”
Jiang Jian Yue turned around. “Since she wasn’t brought back, she’s dead. How did she die?”
“Shadow Girl chose to… self-destruct to protect those ordinary people.”
The wine glass in Jiang Jian Yue’s hand shattered instantly, red wine trickling down her pale fingers like blood.
The air pressure in the room plummeted, glass windows groaning under the strain.
Jiang Jian Yue was truly angry.
Because if Shadow Girl was dead… she would have no choice but to send someone to Japan to capture Saori Saiyonji.
Boom!
An invisible force sent Koji Hattori flying. He crashed heavily into the wall, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
She took a deep breath and forcibly suppressed the rage in her heart.
“Forget it.”
Jiang Jian Yue waved her hand. The floor vibrated slightly as four bodies—three men and one woman—were molded from the ground.
Beiye, Long Yin, Mizuki Hoshi, and Sasaki.
Jiang Jian Yue walked up to them, pointed her finger in the air, and chaotic white energy spheres surged into the four bodies.
She was granting them souls and setting their abilities.
Thinking about the number of Emergent Bodies on the Japanese side, Jiang Jian Yue poured her power into them without restraint.
“This time, the command goes to Sasaki. Bring back Saori Saiyonji. There must be no mistakes…”
“Yes, Family Head!”
The four, now clad in their combat suits, along with Koji Hattori, solemnly knelt on one knee in the living room floor.
“Go.”
The five figures disappeared from sight. Jiang Jian Yue turned to look out at the floor-to-ceiling window, at the remains of the Insect God suspended in the sky above.
‘Damn, I really look like an antagonist now…’