Twenty minutes later, the black freighter kissed the unloading quay, like a whale nudging a stone shore. A giant crane woke with a groan, its steel arm like an iron mantis, cables taut as spider silk, lifting those iron coffins and setting them down on the bare concrete like slate-gray tombs.

What's inside? Curiosity flared in Tang Coco’s chest like a cat’s pricked ears in moonlight. She dropped into the shadows, breath thin as mist, and watched a row of black Range Rovers roll in like a night tide.

The convoy braked before the freshly lowered containers, tires whispering like snakes over sand. Doors opened, and men and women in black suits spilled out, their steps neat as metronomes.

System, initiate Recon Mode. The thought was steady as a drawn bowstring, yet her pulse fluttered like a trapped sparrow. Recon stayed ghost-quiet, so even Anomaly Power would slip by like wind through reeds.

A blue, mechanized visor bloomed over her eye, glass clear as river ice, and an earpiece hooked her ear like a silver fish. The view tightened, and faces sharpened like blades against light.

Not Huaguo, she judged, their bone lines foreign as winter poplars. Their expressions were slack and waxy, like puppets waiting for strings to twitch.

Status, are we set? A crisp American voice crackled in her ear like frost biting twigs. She hunted the source, gaze skimming the crowd like a gull over waves, and found a tall youth in a suit, nearly one-ninety, speaking to crew stepping down from the freighter.

Yes. Detectors across all regions are installed. The leader among the workers answered, face stiff as a sealed envelope.

Good. We leave early, before Huaguo smells smoke on the wind. We’ve spotted a Valkyrie. Get the data home. The youth’s tone was clipped, each word a stone skipping dark water.

Right. We leave Huaguo in thirty minutes. Start “loading.” Orders fell like iron nails. Workers swung a container door open, its hinges complaining like old gates in rain.

The suited foreigners slid back into their Range Rovers, black fish slipping under reeds. Engines purred, and cars drove straight into the containers, like beasts crawling into iron dens. Doors clanged shut, a lid on a secret.

So that’s their trick… Understanding flared in Coco like lantern light under a cloak. She noted she crouched beside the crane’s engine box, a metal heart thudding under thin ribs.

She summoned a palm-sized mechanical spider, its legs ticking like needles on tin. It skittered to the housing, flattened like a leaf under a boot, and eased inside with the hush of a gecko.

A faint spark popped like a firefly dying, and the whole engine went still, silence spreading like black ink. Thin blue smoke bled from the vent, hot with a burnt tang, like winter pine caught in flame.

What happened? The youth’s gaze snapped to the stilled crane, spine tight as a drawn wire. He turned to the foreman, impatience flicking like a whip.

No idea. You—go check. The foreman shook his head like a bull in flies and jabbed a finger at a nearby worker.

Yes, sir. The man jogged off, breath chuffing like a little engine. He circled, then reached the locked cabinet and smelled the singe through the vent like scorched bread.

Engine’s down. Needs a reboot. He ran back, words falling like loose bolts.

Then do it now. Huaguo hardware, always brittle as dry bamboo. The youth clicked his tongue, annoyance sharp as vinegar.

Don’t be mad. Let’s wait aboard. The foreman’s smile was a pasted-on paper flower, thin in the wind.

Fine. The youth lit a cigarette, ember glowing like a solitary star, and the two climbed the freighter’s stairs, boots ringing like bells on iron.

Another worker grabbed a toolbox and pelted back, breath smoky in the damp air. He pried the lock with a bar that croaked like a crow, and the wide door swung open, a shield that hid his body like a curtain.

Move. Coco’s thought snapped like flint. The mechanical spider sprang from the inner wall like a spring snake, landed on his face like a falling leaf, and pulsed a sting of current.

He slumped without a sound, a puppet with cut strings. Coco slid behind the door, quiet as a cat, hauled him aside like deadwood, and bound him with rope neat as a sailor’s knot.

She eyeballed his build, measuring like a tailor under lantern light. Her Armor adjusted, thickness flowing like poured mercury, so the work clothes hugged her frame like a borrowed skin.

She took up the tools, metal cold as river stones, and pretended to fuss with the engine, hands moving like a drummer’s. One word to the spider, and the heart would beat again.

The crane shuddered to life, a steel beast waking under storm. Coco shut the cabinet, the latch clicking like a cricket, and no one spared the corner a glance.

She drifted into the workers’ stream like a leaf into a current, always angling her face so no one caught her eyes, her profile a whisper behind caps and collars.

When the last container thudded aboard the black freighter, every dock worker climbed the ladder, steps steady as ants crossing a branch. Tang Coco was in the midst, a shadow among shadows.

Before that, she’d sent a secret text to Ningxin, a single spark tucked into dark straw.

Once aboard, she slipped into a tucked-away hollow, snug as a sparrow in eaves. To unmask the hand behind the curtain, she had to ride this ship longer, like a fish hiding under a ferry.

Leave Ninghai, leave even Huaguo, and their vigilance would thin like dawn fog. She needed a nest to wait out the hours, heart steady as a drum under cloth.

By afternoon, Ye Yiyi and Meng Yuting drove into Splendid Garden, tires rolling through silence thick as snow. Police tape looped the area like pale ribbons, and five villas lay flattened, with four more bruised around the edges.

The sight hit Ye Yiyi first, sorrow pouring in like cold rain through a broken roof. She stared at the ruins where she’d lived for years, a field of bones under gray sky.

Yiyi… don’t worry, I’ll help you buy a new place. Meng Yuting slipped an arm through hers, warmth like a shawl.

It’s not the money… I’ve lived here so long… it hurts to leave, like tearing off old bark. Ye Yiyi’s voice trembled like a wet string.

Yeah… Anyone would feel this, with roots pulled up like onions. Meng Yuting sighed, breath feathering like steam.

Anything important left inside? Let’s not let the wind scatter what matters. Meng Yuting nudged the mood, gentle as a palm.

Mm… nothing much. As long as Coco and the others are safe, my heart’s a little steadier. Ye Yiyi’s eyes softened, like rain easing.

Alright. We’ll check for anything vital, then go downtown for clothes and daily stuff, like restocking a winter pantry. Meng Yuting patted her shoulder, touch light as falling ash.

Okay—thank you, Sister Yuting. Ye Yiyi forced a small smile, like a lantern lit in drizzle.

Oh, don’t be formal. With Xin’er, we’re family anyway, tied like red thread. Meng Yuting laughed, sound bright as glass.

Ye Yiyi sifted the rubble, hands dusted white like chalk. Nothing important remained; she’d never hoarded keepsakes, and her wallet always rode with her like a talisman.

Right—the school textbooks were gone, pages probably lifted like birds. The thought pricked like a thorn, small but real.

Suddenly she remembered, and pulled out her phone, screen cold as winter water. Hello? Muyan? The call took a while, each ring a pebble in a well.

It’s me, Yiyi. Li Muyan’s voice came thin and weak, like silk stretched too far.

Muyan, when are you coming back? Something happened at home, like thunder in a clear sky. Worry beat in her chest like drumfire.

What happened? Li Muyan asked, still in the dark like a room with curtains drawn.

There was a pipeline explosion in our villa district. Both our houses are gone, like candles snuffed. Ye Yiyi spoke the cover story she trusted, a script smooth as clay.

What! The shock cracked out like lightning, then settled into a frown. Are you okay, Yiyi?

I’m fine, I was at school, like a boat that missed the storm. Relief softened her voice.

Good. If it’s gone, it’s gone; when I’m back, we’ll buy a new place, build fresh like spring shoots. Li Muyan steadied her tone, warmth like a hand on a shoulder.

Right. Do you have anything important at home? I’ll check if it survived, like picking pearls from ash. She glanced at the ruins across the street, his house battered like hers.

Don’t bother. I barely lived there, nothing precious, nothing with roots. Where are you staying these days? Concern edged the words like frost.

At Xiaoxiao’s place for a couple days, a spare nest in a windy night. Ye Yiyi answered, voice easing.

Okay. That’s good, a harbor in rain. Li Muyan exhaled, breath thin as thread.

Muyan, what’s wrong? You sound tired, like a candle guttering. Ye Yiyi’s ear caught the strain, a bowstring near breaking.

It’s nothing… I’ve just got a lot on this end, like juggling stones. Don’t worry about me. Li Muyan put on a light tone, a paper umbrella in a drizzle.

Alright. Call me when you’re back, send a bell through the fog. Okay. The word landed soft as a leaf.

Li Muyan lowered the phone and looked at Gu Xin by the bed, eyes steady as a lake. All set, Sister Gu.

Gu Xin took the phone back, fingers cool as jade. Yiyi’s lucky to have you, a friend like a lantern in the dark.

Ha. Li Muyan smiled, thin but real, like sunlight through clouds.

Sister Gu, what really happened? How did Yiyi’s place “explode”? Her gaze was sharp as a needle; she knew the lie was a paper screen.

… Gu Xin paused, silence pooling like ink, then spoke low. It’s fine. Coco reawakened her Anomaly Power and ran into enemies there. They used bombs, like cowards with matches. None of them were hurt.

… The words sank in Li Muyan’s heart like stones into a pond, ripples widening. Where’s Coco?

Coco… has something to take care of, a knot only she can untie. Gu Xin’s eyes flicked, a shadow crossing water.

It’s about me, isn’t it? The question hung like a blade over silk. Mm. Gu Xin couldn’t lie under that gaze, her answer soft as ash.

Can’t you stop her? She’s alone, and the road’s full of thorns. It’s too dangerous. The plea trembled like a sparrow in fists.

I can’t. What she decides is iron; no one bends it. And this ties to your life, tight as a noose. Gu Xin shook her head, helplessness like rain on stone.

… Li Muyan closed her eyes, lashes like black fans, breath slow as ebbing tide. Watching her, Gu Xin gathered herself, voice calm as a physician.

By my guess, the next few days are when your infection bites hardest, like fever peaking at noon. Tell me any discomfort, even a whisper. Okay. The word was small, a seed in dirt.

Alright, I’ll go check on Lulu downstairs, see if the wind rattles her window. Gu Xin stood and walked to the door, steps even as a metronome.

Sister Gu… if I lose control… kill me. I don’t want many people to see me like that, a monster in their lantern light. The words came thin, a thread about to snap.

If you truly lose control… I will kill you. Gu Xin spoke to the door, face set like carved wood. So hold yourself together, for you—and for the ones who worry, whose hearts hang from your sleeve.

She stepped out, the door closing like a soft wave. …

Li Muyan watched the empty doorway, eyes dark as deep wells, silence settling like snow.