On a lone island in the Pacific, a killer syndicate moved like a shadow over the waves; people called it the Shadow Division. It ranked first in the underworld, a blade that always sank into death’s throat.

Surprisingly, their main strike team had only six. Asura, Princess, Phantom, Rebel, Night Owl, and Hawkeye—names like masks glinting in torchlight. None of them were ordinary. They were Abnormals, hidden like stones under clear water, their Anomaly Power veiled among everyday faces.

The captain, Asura—real name Tang Ke—wielded an Anomaly Power he called the Mechanical Epoch, a storm of metal and light. It armed him and his squad with ultra-modern gear, steel wings over iron bones, and when fused with other attributes, their combat force hit like thunder on open sea.

Now, on a boulder by the shore, Tang Ke sat with the surf breathing like a sleeping beast. Short hair cut clean as a blade, features sharp as chiseled granite, a lean frame with a tall shadow. His eyes were pale blue, clear as mountain ice.

Father, I’ve almost got their trail. The thought rose like smoke. I’ll bring you justice soon. Then I’ll find Mother and finish your vow.

Warm arms slid around his back, soft as silk over skin. He didn’t turn. He knew the scent before the breeze could carry it.

Thinking of your family again? her voice came gentle as spring rain. Don’t worry. No matter what comes, we’ve got you.

It was Princess—Gu Xin—hair falling to her waist like a river at twilight, features fine as carved jade. She was kindness wrapped in velvet, soft with everyone, so the team called her Princess.

I’m fine. Having you all feels like harbor after storm. His heart eased like a clenched fist opening.

He kissed her, a hush of salt and heat. Their bond ran deep, as close as breath. They’d already crossed that threshold, bodies speaking where vows hadn’t. Everyone in the Shadow Division knew Tang Ke’s ties with Princess and Phantom; when you dance on the edge of death, laws feel like dust on the wind.

Yo, you two get cozy and I blink, and you’re already at it? Xin, you sneaking again? The tease dropped light as a pebble into water.

They split apart like startled birds. Tang Ke looked over. Phantom—Meng Yuting—walked in with a blaze of curves and confidence, black leather like midnight, red hair like flame, a face painted by trouble and moonlight.

You too? He asked, eyebrows lifting like sails catching wind.

Why not? She pouted like a stage fox. She can meet you and I can’t? Boo-hoo, my heart’s shattered.

Her act was so dramatic it squeaked. Tang Ke’s expression stiffened like drying plaster. Alright, drop it. What did you come for?

Tch, you’re no fun. Her mood flipped like a fan. Fine. You owe me a promise. Did you forget?

A promise? His gaze dipped, mind stirring mud at the riverbed. The thing he avoided slithered up like a cold eel.

Oh! I just remembered—Old Hong said he needed me. Gotta go. Xin, talk later! He pivoted, ready to vanish like mist.

Try it, and Xin and I won’t speak to you again. The warning cracked like a whip.

He stopped. He breathed, then turned back, resigned as a monk to bell chimes.

Do we have to do this?

Absolutely. You promised me.

…

Tang Ke surrendered like a sword sheathed.

Later, at Shadow Division HQ, a ridiculous sight bloomed like a neon lotus. Three maids served the dining hall, frills fluttering like moth wings. Two were Princess and Phantom. The third was Tang Ke in full women’s wear.

Black-and-white maid dress, white wig like fresh snow. His face had a soft edge already, so the look was almost too smooth, like night silk over steel. The others kept straight faces like stone statues, but inside their laughter spooled like fireworks. Rebel, the most talkative, looked ready to rupture from holding it in.

Tang Ke watched their tight lips and glittering eyes and felt a twitch at his mouth, dry as driftwood.

Go on. Laugh. His words fell like a gauntlet.

Pff—hahaha! Oh man, I’m done! The dam burst. Laughter flooded the hall like a spring river. Under that tide of cackles, Tang Ke lived through the most humiliating day of his life.

With the last mission wrapped, they drifted in brief peace, the days like tea cooling on a quiet table. In that calm, Tang Ke, Gu Xin, and Meng Yuting had their… “conversations,” bodies speaking like night wind through bamboo.

A month later, a new target surfaced. As captain, Tang Ke walked to Hong Wei’s door and knocked once, knuckles steady as a drum.

Come in. The voice rumbled like old earth.

He opened the door. Hong Wei sat in a chair, age laid on him like frost, a silver thread in his hair. He was fifty-eight, but as an Abnormal his face held time at bay. Decades ago, he fought in the field, a veteran with scars like maps. He hadn’t gone to ground in old age; he stayed, teaching new blades to sing. He had reach among Huaxia’s higher tiers, a hidden pillar few saw, fewer understood.

Hong Wei saw Tang Ke and smiled, warm as a lamp in winter. Tang Ke didn’t stand on ceremony; he sat down opposite him, easy as a stone in a stream.

Tang kid, you look good. Been living… well? He teased, eyes bright as foxfire.

Yeah, yeah. This is your turf. You know how I live. Let’s get to it. His tone clicked clean, like gears locking.

Always impatient when it’s mission time. Fine. Business. Hong Wei leaned forward, voice dropping like a curtain.

We got secret intel. In Pacific Zone D, there’s a small island with a long-term mercenary presence. Normally, that’s not our cue. But since last week, U.S. transport helicopters started landing there. Patrol boats have thickened like storm clouds.

Tang Ke straightened, focus sharpening like a blade’s edge. So it’s recon.

Correct. Don’t take it lightly. One detail will make you care. He reached for a file, fingers calm as falling leaves.

What detail? Spill. Tang Ke’s gaze cut like rain.

There’s a photo. Hong Wei slid it over. Tang Ke took it. Grainy, a stolen shot in bad light. A transport helicopter, hulking like a beetle. The key was three letters on its skin.

IST? Tang Ke frowned, the mark nagging like a thorn.

Right. You may not know what that means, but… Hong Wei hesitated, words clinging like dew.

Say it. Don’t drag your feet. That’s not you. Tang Ke’s voice cracked the quiet like flint.

Sigh… I know what sits in your chest, a coal of hatred that glows in the dark. As a merc, that ember can blind you, even kill you. Hong Wei’s tone was heavy, like rain on tile.

Tang Ke’s brow pinched, a shadow crossing his eyes. He stayed quiet. He knew exactly what Hong Wei meant—his father’s last mission, a wound that never scabbed.

You’re the most gifted kid I’ve seen. I wanted you to let it go. But after these years, I know you can’t. So I sent people to dig, quietly, into your father’s final assignment. Hong Wei’s words were careful, like a hand on a cracked vase.

But… nobody found anything, right? The thought hit him like a cold wave. He lifted his head, saw the middle-aged man before him, felt a bloom of gratitude like fire under snow. He’d hunted the truth himself. He found nothing but fog.

Right. Official records say sudden anomaly, total wipeout. Nothing to hold. Hong Wei paused, then tapped the file, a small drumbeat. But I tried a different angle and got a sliver.

What did you find? Tang Ke’s pulse quickened like hoofbeats. Hong Wei’s reach was wider than his.

I pulled the mission roster. Learned what they were sent to investigate. Hong Wei’s gaze steadied, flat as iron.

What was it?

Also recon. They were probing a private U.S. research institute. Its mark was IST. The name sat between them like a blade on the table.

…

Silence pooled, thick as ink. Tang Ke lowered his gaze, thoughts streaking like lightning behind clouds. Hong Wei waited, a mountain under weather. Ten minutes passed like a slow tide. Tang Ke looked up, decision hard as tempered steel.

I’m going. I have to. His voice held no tremor.

I know. With this truth, you won’t let it pass, and I can’t stop you. Plan before you move. Hong Wei’s warning landed like a bell.

No problem. It’s recon. I’ll infiltrate alone. Tang Ke’s stance was a straight spear.

No. Alone is too risky. We know nothing about them. Hong Wei’s concern flared, a lantern in wind.

Exactly because we know nothing, I should go alone. If IST wiped out my father’s team, bringing Rebel and the rest won’t change that. It’ll only make retreat harder. His logic was crisp, cold as a blade.

But you— Hong Wei began, worry gnawing like mice.

Old man, I know what you fear. I’ll keep my head. These years aren’t for show. Tang Ke’s eyes held steady fire.

… Hong Wei weighed it, then saw the steel under the youth’s calm. His heart moved like an old tree in spring.

Fine… I trust you. But promise me this: if it smells wrong, you retreat at once. No heroics. His tone nailed the words to the wall.

Got it. I won’t gamble with my life. Tang Ke’s smile was thin, pragmatic as rope.

Alright. It’s yours. Go prep. You leave tomorrow. Hong Wei closed the file, final as a stamp.

No problem. Oh, and—about Xin and the others… Tang Ke’s voice softened.

Relax. I’ll tell them it’s a standard recon run. But keep your promise. Or they’ll skin me alive. Hong Wei’s smile tilted, rueful as old wine.

Ha, then I’m off. Tang Ke stood, light on his feet.

He left Hong Wei’s room and walked toward the island’s edge. On the same boulder, he watched birds stitch the sky and the endless sea breathe, thoughts swelling like a tide under moonlight. He shook his head, clearing fog like wind through pine, then went back to his room to rest, readying for tomorrow’s hunt.