Over the next half hour, time trickled like sand, and Ningxin painted the scene while Tang Coco’s foggy memories drifted back like mist over a river.

With pieces clicking like lacquer tiles, Tang Coco finally saw the chain of cause and effect like a straight path through bamboo.

“Figures—my Anomaly Power feels close to what it was, like a river returning to its old bed.

But why did I turn into that thing, like a mask I couldn’t peel off?”

She stared at her hands, calm as a still pond, thoughts curling like smoke.

“Coco, can you circulate your power now, like breath through a reed?”

“No. Not now. I tried just now—nothing, like cold ash after a fire.”

“Oh? Then maybe it only triggers at special moments, like thunder only finding the right cloud.”

Ningxin rubbed her chin, eyes narrowing like a drawn bow.

“Who were those black‑clad men, like shadows sewn to the floor? Why did they want me dead?”

Curiosity pricked Tang Coco like a thorn under silk.

“We checked their identities like sifting grains of sand. They were Abnormals from the States, and likely from that famous ‘Freedom Tribunal,’ like a blade that calls itself justice.”

“Freedom Tribunal?”

The name rang in Tang Coco’s head like a cold bell; back in the Shadow Division, they had clashed like flint and steel.

But why aim at her now, like an arrow seeking one star?

“As for their motive, the wind keeps that secret. They all died under your hand, like candles snuffed in a draft.”

“Mm.”

Ningxin finished and watched Tang Coco in quiet, like a cat in tall grass.

She only answered with a single “mm,” calm as winter water, which set Ningxin’s doubts fluttering like startled sparrows.

A newly awoken Abnormal, killing for the first time, shouldn’t be this steady, like a drum with no tremor.

She said nothing more; she chose to keep observing like a hunter under moonlight.

“Enough brooding. We’ll keep digging like roots finding water. Come on—meet our people, like meeting a new village.”

“Hm? Your people?”

“Yeah. From now on you’re with our organization, like a new thread in the loom. Come say hello.”

“Uh… fine.”

Tang Coco weighed it, her mind like scales, and yielded for now, since she was on their turf like a guest under another roof.

With Ningxin leading, they reached the underground of the Imperial Walk Club, the steps echoing like rain in a well.

An hidden door sighed open like old stone, and a base spread out before her like a hive: machines humming, instruments winking, staff moving like ants in ordered lines.

It felt like a command post, taut as a bowstring.

“Sis Ning, you’re here,” someone called, voices rising like morning birds.

“Hi, Sis Ning,” others chimed, greetings rippling like reeds in a breeze.

“Whoa! That girl’s gorgeous, like moonlight on jade.”

“Where? No way—there’s a beauty like that, like a peach blossom in spring?”

“Heavens, I’ve seen my goddess, like starlight spilling in a dark pond.”

Men and women around them faltered, stunned by Tang Coco’s face like a painting come alive.

“Sis Ning.”

Xiao Qiao, the assistant, slid up like a swift swallow and spoke.

“Mm. Call all combat personnel to the hall, like drums summoning a troop. We’re holding a quick meeting.”

“Got it.”

Xiao Qiao’s gaze lingered on Tang Coco like a moth on a lamp, then turned to work, brisk as a blade.

Soon the hall filled with over thirty, footsteps stacking like tiles.

Tang Coco watched them, reading their stances like martial script; most looked like Abnormals, which meant the Imperial Walk Club’s roots ran deep like old pines.

They studied Tang Coco in return, eyes bright as flint; few had ever seen a girl this unreal, like mist that remembered the moon.

“All right, settle down,” Ningxin said, voice firm as a bell.

“Meet Tang Coco. From today, she’s our comrade, like a new star in the constellation.”

“Oh! Welcome, welcome!”

Beauty draws cheers like blossoms draw bees, and the hall warmed like a brazier.

“Beauty, come to Team C—lots of masters here, like hawks over a cliff.”

“Join Team E—E’s the strongest, like a wave that never breaks!”

“Come—”

They jostled and pitched, casual as street vendors, loose as cats in sun.

But that looseness was Ningxin’s way, like silk over steel: joke in peacetime, never fail at the strike of the hour.

“Enough! Quiet!”

Ningxin’s shout cracked like thunder, and mouths snapped shut like doors.

They feared this demoness a little, like sailors eyeing a storm.

In front of Tang Coco she wore the look of a neighborly sister, like tea and warm light, but her team knew her sharp and dark, like ink lining a blade.

“Coco’s under me from now on, like a sword in my scabbard. Stop angling.”

The hall sighed, desire cooling like embers, and no one dared push further, like dogs that know the whip.

“That’s the announcement. Xiao Qiao will handle the rest like a steward counting ledgers. Coco, I’ll take you for a walk.”

With that, Ningxin tugged Tang Coco away, light as a breeze slipping past a curtain.

“How do you feel?” Ningxin walked ahead, words tossed back like leaves.

“Not great. Living underground like moles, no sun on the skin.”

“Heh. No choice. We’re under the city like roots, keeping it steady while storms roll. Abnormal activity’s growing like summer thunder.”

“Abnormals don’t have to guard in the dark like owls. Abnormals have their battlefield, like banners in daylight.”

Her voice slipped out, a memory untied like a knot; Tang Coco saw old days with brothers, fights blazing like a dawn fire, and spoke without thinking.

“Abnormals’ battlefield?”

Ningxin caught the note like a fish hook—there was a secret behind Tang Coco, coiled like a snake.

“Uh… forget it, just me rambling like wind. I’m tired. I’ll head back like a cloud drifting off.”

She realized she’d said too much, and swerved the topic like a cart at a bend.

“Back? Back where? You’re staying with me tonight, like a traveler at a warm inn.”

“Hah? When did I agree, like a bird snared mid‑flight?”

Tang Coco blinked, surprised, her mind like a skipped stone.

“I already checked with Yiyi, like sending a messenger. You’re here today.”

Ningxin smiled, smug as a cat with cream.

“Uh… where am I staying, like a leaf finding a branch?”

“With me. Relax. My bed’s big and comfy, like a cloud and a field together.”

“……”

Tang Coco stared, dumbstruck, eyes wide like lanterns.

“That… isn’t that improper, like two boats tied too close?”

“What’s improper? You had a day like a sudden storm. I need to ensure your safety, like a wall against wind.”

Ningxin’s tone was steady, firm as a gate.

“Then… fine. I’ll make do for one night, like a traveler under borrowed eaves.”

In the end, Tang Coco yielded, her will folding like paper.

“Mm. I’ve got things to handle, like threads to knot. Go wait in my room.”

Ningxin left with a mysterious smile, curling like smoke.

Tang Coco watched her back, a line sliding into shadow like a river into reeds, and felt something off, like a note slightly out of tune.