Tang Coco touched down at Ninghai City’s international pier, a gull slipping into a secluded corner. Her Mech folded like a steel beetle, revealing a white cartoon tee and chili-red shorts.

“Mm… this outfit’s not ideal.” Her voice was a sigh drifting over salt air. She looked down, annoyance pricking like sand in a shoe.

It moved easy as wind on water, but it drew eyes like lanterns at night. She scanned the quiet around her, mind sharpening like a blade under rain.

A shabby workers’ shack sat ahead, a rest stop for dockhands, squat as a crab on the quay. An outdoor line held orange work uniforms, bright as sunset buoys.

“Ugh… I hate this, but there’s no other way.” The thought felt sticky as sweat. Since becoming a girl, secondhand clothes nagged like nettles.

Now wasn’t the time to fuss. She swept the area with Anomaly Power, ripples spreading like sonar. No eyes on her; the air was clear as glass.

She snatched a uniform in one smooth draw, quiet as a cat at dusk. A helmet followed, dull as driftwood. She slipped back into the shadowed corner.

Minutes later, she moved toward the pier’s heart in the orange shell, a candle within a lantern. The uniform hung loose as a sail without wind.

Her build was thin as reed, so the fit screamed odd. One glance said woman, despite the docker’s colors. She frowned and chose steel over fabric.

A compact set of Armor bloomed over her skin, snug as a second shell. Uniform on top, the shape settled, weighty as a thirty-something aunt at market.

Hair was the worst. Her white mane was thick as winter frost and long as river grass. She coiled it tight behind, neat as rope on a cleat.

A large helmet swallowed her face, leaving only nose and below like a crescent moon. It even covered half her neck, a collar of stormcloud steel.

The helmet didn’t slow her. She stepped toward the middle pier, climbing a tall tower like a heron taking a post. Wind brushed her visor like silk.

“Which one is it…” Her mind hummed, cool as deep water. She was here because Marilyn had logged Dark Energy signals. Yiyi’s home was the nearest flare.

But that didn’t mean it stood alone. East pier shimmered with clustered signals, tight as a shoal of fish. The pattern tugged at her like tide.

“Mm?” A prickle ran down her spine, ice fine as salt crystals. Four freighters idled near the docks.

Three were busy, cranes dipping like feeding storks. One black freighter stood off, still as a whale at rest, with open berths it didn’t take.

“Is it this one…” The guess was a pebble thrown into deep water. She waited, eyes steady as stars, and watched.

Then her pupils snapped wide, shock bright as lightning. “IST!!” The shout cracked like a mast in wind.

On the stern sat a logo, sharp as a brand on iron. She’d never seen it in person, yet those letters lived in her bones like old scars.

By Hong Wei’s telling, her father died while scouting IST. That name was a shadow in her house, a knife wrapped in paper.

They were enemies, whether the world said so or not. “Could IST be tied to a Dark Ability User?” The thought stalked in like fog.

“Wait… Father knew my secret. Father’s death links to IST. IST ties to Dark Ability Users. This… does it all circle back to me?”

The realization was a bell under water, heavy and clear. Threads braided into one rope, old beliefs snapping like brittle twigs.

She had to rethink revenge, grind and hone like whetstone on steel. “If so, there’s no truth without digging deep.” Her words fell cold as frost.

She stepped off the tower, each footfall steady as a metronome, and walked toward the black freighter, a shadow seeking shadows.

Late morning at school, Ye Yiyi took a call from Gu Xin, voice soft as cotton yet urgent as a siren. Yiyi and Meng Xiaoxiao were to go to Xiaoxiao’s apartment after class.

Yiyi asked why; Gu Xin only said she’d learn once she arrived, words drifting like smoke. Anxiety pooled in Yiyi’s chest, a storm gathering without lightning.

At noon, they reached the apartment. Meng Xiaoxiao opened the door; the living room held an unexpected guest like a moon in daylight.

“Jie? You’re back early?” Surprise rose like a bubble. Usually she got home first; sometimes Meng Yuting didn’t return at all, swallowed by work like a tide.

“Mm, got a thing today. Yiyi, sit.” Meng Yuting smiled, warm as tea steam, but worry flickered like a moth behind her eyes.

“Yuting-jie, what happened? Why call me here?” Yiyi sat opposite, heart tight as a knot. Bad news loomed like thunderheads.

“Mm… Yiyi, your home… you can’t go back for now.” The words fell heavy as wet cloth.

“Ah? What’s going on!?” Panic skittered, quick as mice. Yuting handed over her phone, screen cold as glass.

A news blast glared back: Jinxiu Garden suffered a massive blast from a gas pipeline issue, the area sealed off like a crime scene.

“No way…” A dread flower opened in Yiyi’s gut, dark as ink. The thought clawed like thorns.

“Mm… unfortunately… your home was hit.” Meng Yuting’s voice dropped, a bell tolled with a cloth over it.

“!!!” Yiyi’s mind roared, a hive knocked from its branch. She hadn’t imagined disaster would walk in like a thief at noon.

“Oh my god! It can’t be!” Meng Xiaoxiao clapped a hand over her mouth, shock pale as chalk.

“Coco! Coco and Lulu were still at home!” Yiyi shot up, chair leg scraping like a barked dog.

“Calm down, Yiyi. They’re fine. Coco called me to bring you here.” Meng Yuting rose and held Yiyi’s shoulders, steady as a wall.

“Where did she go? Why didn’t she call me?” Yiyi’s voice quivered, a bowstring ready to snap.

“She’s out handling something. You know, right? Coco’s been busy.” Yuting spoke gently, words set down like feathers.

She was speaking for Xiaoxiao’s ears, too; some things had to stay wrapped like a sealed letter. “Oh… got it.” Yiyi lowered her head, fingers clutching her hem like lifelines.

“Alright. Don’t go to class this afternoon. I’ll go with you to your villa and take a look.” Yuting’s hand was warm, a lantern in fog.

“Mm…” Yiyi answered small, voice a leaf on water. “I’ll cook now,” Yuting said, heading to the kitchen, the door swinging like a calm tide.

“Don’t worry, Yiyi-jie. You can live here, anytime.” Meng Xiaoxiao scooted close, comfort soft as a blanket.

“Mm~” Yiyi tried to smile, thin as moonlight through clouds.

At the seaside villa, Gu Xin’s mood was anxious, a sparrow beating in a cage. She knew Tang Coco wouldn’t listen; a changed gender didn’t rewrite iron in the soul.

Ding-dong. The doorbell cut her thoughts like a clean knife. She went to open the door, footsteps brisk as rain.

“Lulu!? Why are you here?” White hair shone at the threshold like fresh snow. Marilyn stood there, small and bright.

“Coco-jie asked me to help you.” Her voice was clear as water. “Coco sent you? How’d you get here? Where did she go?”

“I flew in with the Mech, cloaked. No one saw. As for Coco-jie… she has things to do.” Marilyn’s answer fell light, a feather turning.

Silence followed, heavy as dusk. “Figures…” Gu Xin murmured, helplessness curling like smoke. She took Marilyn’s hand and led her in.

“Lulu, can you monitor Coco’s situation?” Gu Xin asked, hope flickering like a candle in wind.

“Mm… for now, yes. But if she fights a Dark Ability User, my scan might get scrambled.” Marilyn spread her hands, a shrug like a ripple.

“Alright. Sit. I’ll grab you snacks.” Gu Xin ruffled her hair, touch gentle as a breeze.

“Thanks, Xin-er-jie~ I used Anomaly Power just now, and I’m really hungry.” Marilyn smiled, sweet as fruit after rain.

“No need to be polite. And later, tell me what happened.” “Okay~” Her agreement chimed like a silver bell.

At the Ninghai International Hotel, managers and staff worked tight as a drumline. A big name checked in today: the chair of Chenghua International.

“Alright, you can go. I’m tired and need a rest.” Su Xinhua sat on the bed’s edge, voice calm as velvet.

“Yes, Miss Su. If you need anything, just tell them.” The general manager bowed and scraped, then left with the team, their steps soft as felt.

“Su-jie, you must be tired… I’ll massage you.” Her female aide spoke softly, hands warm as spring.

“Mm, a bit. I still hate flying.” Su Xinhua turned her back, shoulders knotted like rope.

“Su-jie, don’t go out these days. Our intel says Ninghai’s messy right now.” The aide’s tone sharpened, a blade under silk.

“Mm? What’s going on?” Su Xinhua’s brows drew together, black wings folding.

“Ninghai City suddenly has many Abnormals, from all over the world, even Huaguo’s officials.” Her words clicked like beads.

“Did something happen?” “This morning… Ninghai City saw another SS-level energy alert.” The aide spoke slow, each syllable a drop of ink.

“…” The news set her thinking, mind a loom weaving fast. “Is it him…” The thought brushed her heart like a shadowed hand.

She shook her head, set the feeling aside like a sealed box. “Alright. In that case, let our people go out and walk the ground.”

“We can’t lag behind others.” By “our people,” she meant her Abnormal squad, shadows traveling with her to Ninghai.

“Okay.” The aide agreed and pressed deeper, fingers kneading like rain into soil.

Back at the docks, Tang Coco kept hunting for a way aboard the black freighter, patience thin as ice. No gangway, no stairs—just blank steel like a cliff.

If she used Anomaly Power, she’d spook them, birds scattering before dawn. She waited, coil tight as a spring.

Woooo— A deep horn rolled out, low as fog. She turned; the black freighter sang its whale-song.

It began to move, slow as a tide drawing in, edging toward the unloading zone like a shark gliding through kelp.