Tang Coco knew it too—deep down, some locked chamber in her heart still refused this body.

“Right. Since you’re the system made flesh, you must have some special tricks, yeah?” Her tone was a pebble dropped into a still pond, ripples of curiosity spreading.

“Mm-hmm. The Anomalous Energy I can use right now… hmm… about the same as you a few months ago.” Marilyn tilted her head, like a sparrow calibrating the wind on a branch.

“What!?” Shock flared in Coco’s chest like a struck match; so this little brat fought at Tang Ke’s level.

“Heh-heh, so don’t bully me. Or I’ll get even. Imagine getting toppled by a little girl—tsk, tsk.” The tiny girl wore a wicked grin, like sugar glazed over chili.

“Uh…” Coco’s face went blank, a paper fan with no ink.

“Relax~ under normal circumstances I don’t bully my host.” Marilyn brushed the air with her hand, generosity draped like silk but thin as fog.

“…” Coco felt her pride crumple like wet paper under a summer rain.

“Boring. Not talking to you.” She stood, mood heavy as a storm cloud, left the living room, and went upstairs. In her bedroom, fresh bedding lay clean as new snow. Warmth rose in her chest like steam from hot tea; she sprawled on it and closed her eyes for a breath’s rest.

Elsewhere, the air inside the Imperial Walk Club turned rough, like sand rubbed against lacquer. A group had arrived at the underground base; several middle-aged men led the way. Ningxin stepped out of her room, met them, and spoke to the one in a suit.

“Minister Zhao, you’re here.” Her voice was a lantern lit in a corridor.

“Mmm. Xiaoxin, you’ve worked hard lately. That rescue in America—well done.” The man smiled, carrying authority like a pressed seal on jade.

“It’s nothing. I did what I should. Let’s not stand in the corridor. Please, this way~” Ningxin’s smile was a spring breeze crossing a threshold.

“Good. You all, go rest.” The middle-aged man flicked his hand, his orders falling like measured rain.

“Yes!” The reply snapped like banners in wind.

Ningxin led Minister Zhao into her office.

“Please, sit.” Her gesture was porcelain-calm.

“Alright.” He settled in, like a rock claiming its riverbed.

“Minister Zhao, coming suddenly to Ninghai—what’s the matter?” Ningxin poured him water, placed it on the tea table, then sat opposite, eyes steady as a lake at dawn.

“Headquarters sent me. Specifically to commend you. You earned great merit. Now the state takes our organization more seriously.” His praise landed like red seals on white paper.

“Thank you, Minister Zhao.” Ningxin smiled; a crescent moon behind thin clouds.

“Xiaoxin, I heard the mission’s finisher was an Abnormal you secretly recruited. True?” He sipped water; the question slid out like a knife wrapped in velvet.

“Yes…” Her smile cooled, ice forming along the rim. As expected—this was his real purpose.

“That’s your mistake. With an Abnormal that strong, how could you keep them hidden?” His lips curved, a hook under calm water.

“You misunderstand. She’s not a formal member of our organization.” Ningxin gathered her smile away, sitting straight as bamboo.

“Oh? Not formal? What’s going on?” His tone clicked like beads on a string.

“I haven’t asked if she’s willing to join. So… she’s not official. For now, consider her a good friend of mine.” Ningxin’s words were measured, a chess move set precisely on the board.

“I see… that makes it difficult.” His face dimmed, a lamp turned low.

“We can’t ignore an Abnormal at that level. I heard she almost killed our people recently. True?” His voice hardened, flint struck for sparks.

“It happened. But it was a misunderstanding. That Lielong member tailed her in secret, so she thought he was an enemy and hurt him by mistake.” Ningxin kept her tone level, a bridge over fast water.

“Hmph. Whether it was a mistake, only she knows in her heart.” His cold voice scraped like metal on stone.

“…” Silence pooled, heavy as ink. Ningxin had long known this day would come.

“Where is she? Still in Ninghai?” His gaze drilled like a nail.

“I’m not sure…” Ningxin shook her head, a single leaf falling.

“…” He watched her, then set his cup down, porcelain ringing faintly like a bell.

“Xiaoxin, you’re an old hand in the organization. You know the rules, yes? Because we trust you, we gave you Ninghai—a crucial place.” His words pressed like a seal on damp clay.

“I know.” Her reply was short, spine straight as a line of calligraphy.

“Good… I’ll give you two days. Have that person come see me. Otherwise… I won’t be this polite.” He stood and left her office, like a door slammed by wind.

“…” Ningxin leaned into the sofa, exhaled a long breath, a flute note fading in a hollow hall. She thought, then pulled out her phone and dialed Tang Coco.

“Coco?” Her voice carried hope like a lantern in fog.

The call connected. Ningxin only meant to try; she didn’t know Coco had woken.

“Ning-jie?” Coco lay on the bed; her phone sprang up like a startled bird. She answered.

“Mm, it’s me. How are you? Woke up and didn’t tell me… naughty.” Ningxin laughed—only with Coco did her happiness spill like warm tea.

“Heh, I just woke up…” Coco’s embarrassment was a blush behind a fan.

“How’s your body?” Concern fluttered like leaves in a mild wind.

“Mm… I’m okay. Just… can’t use my Anomaly Power for now.” Her words landed heavy, stones dropped into deep water.

“I see…” Ningxin’s thought tightened, a string pulled taut. She had expected trouble—no power meant greater danger.

“It’s fine. As long as your health’s fine, it’s fine.” She kept her tone light as sunlight on gauze, hiding the storm beneath.

“Mm, thanks, Ning-jie.” Gratitude shone like dew on grass.

“Little brat, don’t thank me. Alright, I’ve got things to do. Rest well.” Her care folded around Coco like a quilt.

“Okay~” Their call ended, a thread cut clean.

“…” Ningxin set down her phone, thought again, then dialed another number.

“Hello? Princess? It’s Ningxin. I need to tell you something…” Her voice went low, like a whisper under a paper screen.

Coco put her phone aside and wandered the villa, thoughts drifting like mist. Why hadn’t she seen Li Muyan? Just then, Ye Yiyi came back with groceries, the smell of fresh vegetables like earth after rain.

“Yiyi, where’s Muyan?” Coco stepped up, words quick as a tossed pebble.

“Hm? Muyan’s at home…” Yiyi’s eyes suddenly widened, shock blooming like a dropped bowl shattering. When Coco arrived, Yiyi and Li Muyan were in the bedroom planning something; Yiyi had gone downstairs to open the door—and then hadn’t seen Muyan again.

“Muyan!” Yiyi shouted and ran to the rooms upstairs, opening doors like wind flipping pages; no sign of Li Muyan.

“Wha… what’s going on…” Yiyi stood at her bedroom door, forcing memory to rewind like a stuck tape.

Coco stood by her, brows knitting like gathering clouds, scanning the room.

“Marilyn!” Coco called, urgency tight as a bowstring.

“What is it?” The little girl hustled up to the second floor, footsteps light as sparrow hops.

“Did you sense anything strange just now?” Coco’s voice was cool steel under velvet.

“No. If there were Anomalous Energy fluctuations around, I’d notice.” Marilyn’s face went serious, a small drum beat steady and sharp.

“Then how did Muyan vanish…” Coco’s doubt was a thorn in the finger.

“There’s… one thing I can’t sense. Dark Energy. I only get an alarm if Dark Energy attacks. Otherwise, Dark Energy can smother my detection.” Her words fell like ash over coals.

“…” Coco’s frown deepened, ridge by ridge like mountain folds. Had a Dark wielder found this place?

“Coco… what’s Dark Energy…” Yiyi asked, worry fluttering like a trapped bird.

“Yiyi, I’ll explain later… I need to find her now.” Coco’s tone narrowed, an arrow nocked.

“Mm.” Yiyi nodded, knowing there was little she could do; her hands hung like sails in a dead calm.

“Damn it, what happened?” Coco’s thoughts rushed like water hunting a crack, her eyes searching for clues among still objects.

Ding-dong. The doorbell’s chime fell like two silver drops.

“Huh? I’ll check.” Yiyi ran downstairs, steps quick as flying swallows. Soon, Coco heard her voice lift like sunlight into a courtyard.

“Muyan! Where did you go? You scared me to death.” Relief burst like a dam.

Li Muyan stepped in through the door, calm as if nothing had happened.

“Silly girl, what’s there to worry about? I went to see a friend~” Muyan smiled, but Coco’s brows tugged tight; she felt a shadow under that smile.

“Wow, at least tell me~” Yiyi puffed her cheeks, anger cute as a cat bristling.

“Hee-hee~ I’ll be careful next time.”

“Yo~ Coco, you’re back~” Muyan waved at Coco, greeting easy as summer wind.

“Mm. You okay?” Coco’s gaze was a blade wrapped in silk.

“What could be wrong~” Muyan flicked her hand, casual as tossing a pebble into shallow water.

“Right, Yiyi. Since Coco’s back, have her keep you company for a bit. I’ll go home for a few days.” Muyan’s tone slid smooth as a jade bead.

“Huh? Why~”

“Family stuff.”

“I see… fine…” Yiyi’s voice drooped, a wilted flower.

“I’ll cook then. One more feast for you two.” Yiyi brightened, rolling up sleeves like banners.

“Nice~ Little Coco, come upstairs with me. Let’s… catch up.” Muyan took Coco’s hand; they climbed to the second floor, steps paired like twin cranes.

“…” In Yiyi’s bedroom, Coco entered first. Muyan closed the door and turned the lock; the click was a pin through silk.

“Talk. What happened?” Coco’s face went stern, iron cooled to black.

“Coco…” Tightness crept into Muyan’s features like frost lines. She reached for her belt, fingers slow, then eased her jeans down, movements careful as peeling paper from lacquer.

On any other day, Coco’s cheeks would’ve flushed like cherry petals. Today, her heart stayed steady—storm banked.

“Look.” Muyan’s voice was heavy, a rock set on the table.

Coco’s eyes widened. At the root of Muyan’s left thigh, a ring of skin had turned dusky black, with rippling red lines flowing like molten lava beneath glass.

“What is this!” Coco’s shock cracked like thunder.

Dark Energy. A red-haired girl’s voice stirred in Coco’s mind, a flame speaking inside a lantern.

“Muyan, when did it happen?” Coco stepped closer, caution coiled like a snake.

“There was a wound here—got it in America. Back home, Ning-jie healed everything, but this spot still hurt a bit. I thought it was just aftermath, so I ignored it. But just now… when you returned, it flared. I watched the wound darken inch by inch. I didn’t want Yiyi to see, so I climbed out the window and hid in the trees nearby. I came back once it stabilized.” Muyan frowned, pain threading her voice like red silk.

“How could this happen…” Coco’s whisper was a winter wind.

What’s going on… She asked the red-haired girl inside, her mind a quiet chamber.

Your friend’s a low-level Abnormal, right? The inner voice flickered, ember-bright.

“Mm…” Coco’s confirmation was a nod in shadow.

Then it’s possible. I told you—Dark Energy is failed I Energy. It’s born from the weak yearning to become strong, and failing. Your friend likely craved strength… and Dark fused with her. The most likely way it entered her body is that wound. The words burned clean, leaving no ash.

“Muyan, that wound… do you remember who made it?” Coco’s question fell soft as snow, but each flake carried weight.

Tang Coco asked, her voice a thin thread in the still air.

“Mm... I think it was... the one who fought you last,” Li Muyan said, the words stumbling like stones in a stream.

“Figures—damn,” the curse snapped like a spark in dry straw.

“Any way out?” The question clutched at reeds in a dark river.

“In this state, Dark Energy keeps spreading, like ink bleeding through rice paper, until it takes the whole body.”

“How... could that be?” Her world tilted like a lantern in wind.

Surprise hit first like cold rain; she looked at Li Muyan’s uneasy face and tasted bitterness.

“Coco... will I... turn into that?” The fear crawled up her spine like frost.

She remembered what that person became in the end, a moth charred against the flame.

Silence pooled between them like a still pond before thunder.

“It’s okay, Muyan,” Tang Coco said, her voice warm as tea. “I’ll find a way—first, get your clothes on, like pulling a quilt over a chill.”

“Mm,” she breathed, the sound small as a seed; she nodded, a leaf falling without sound.

Li Muyan pulled on her pants, her fingers trembling like reeds in river wind.

“Damn it—no real way?” Her fists knotted like iron.

“It’s tricky,” the red‑haired girl said, her tone cool as frost on glass. “I suggest isolating her for a while, like setting a lamp in a glass box.”

Tang Coco kept silent; the hush hung like dusk beneath the eaves.

She pieced it together like wet tiles. Li Muyan had guessed, so she told Ye Yiyi she’d go home for a while.

“And after that? Will she end up like that?” The question stood on a cliff edge, staring into mist.

“Not necessarily,” the red‑haired girl said, her pause a candle steady in fog. “Her case is special; for now, a small lantern of self still burns.”

“Hm?” The sound flickered like a moth under lantern light.

“She can at least still control her body, like hands gripping a rudder in storm. From what I remember, ordinary people lose their cool right away when infected.”

“The spread races through them like wildfire; they go on a rampage, using their powers to wreck everything nearby.”

“None of that happened here; the water stayed glassy.”

“So... if her will holds fast, like a blade pinned in the tide, something unexpected might happen.”