The school day ebbed at dusk like light sinking behind tiled eaves. Tang Coco drove Meng Xiaoxiao home, changed fast, then crossed to her mom’s place like a swallow to the nest.

“Yuting? What are you doing here?” Her voice flicked like a sparrow from the eaves.

As the door swung open, Tang Coco saw Meng Yuting on the couch, lounging like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m here squeezing answers from those two. Our mom gave me a key, so I can drift in anytime like a breeze.”

“Our mom...” It felt strange; she rolled the words on her tongue like a new shoe that pinched.

“Oh, got it. Where’s Xin’er?” The name rose like steam.

“Xin’er went to dig into the ‘Prophet’ thing. By now she should be heading home, like a kite reeling back.”

“Oh? How’d it go? Did you pry anything out, like a clam?”

Tang Coco sat beside her, arm circling that willow-slim waist. Meng Yuting smiled and leaned in, ivy seeking a wall.

“Please. You know me—like a knife finding the peach’s seam.”

She stroked Tang Coco’s cheek, her smile a silken hook, eyes flowing like warm wine.

“Oh? What’d they say, the words you netted?”

“They’ve got four hideouts in Huaguo: one in Ninghai, one in Yanjing, one far south in G City, one far west in X City—pins on a dark map.”

“Where’d the ones who escaped that day run to, like rats to drains?”

“They don’t know. The fallback was an Underworld transit array pre-marked by Number Nine; only Nine knows the exit, like a ferryman guarding a foggy pier.”

“Marked? What do you mean, like a stamped seal?”

“It’s like a seal. Number Nine has to place it on someone and keep it for ten minutes—ink drying on silk. After that, the person gets passage rights through the Underworld array, a door hidden in reeds. That day, after Xin’er and I blacked out, they hadn’t had time to set the seal and hold it ten minutes. Those two who bolted early didn’t get sealed either; otherwise they’d have traced us here by that thread, like spiders.”

“The Underworld...” The word tasted cold, and her brow furrowed like weather before rain.

“Lately there are so many Abnormals we’d never heard of. In a few months, what we know feels like a cup against the sea.”

Meng Yuting hugged her, long legs draped over Tang Coco’s thigh like silk over lacquer.

“Yeah. Abnormal moves keep spiking, drumbeats before dawn. Feels like governments are about to go public with Abnormals.”

As she spoke, Tang Coco shared what Mo Zitong told her about Yanjing University’s Abnormal campus—like a hidden garden behind high walls.

“I can’t believe it. Huaguo kept that secret tight as a sealed urn.”

“Yeah. A state is a mountain; it has its own paths. If even tradition-bound Huaguo does this, other countries must hide deeper wells.”

“So what’s your plan? Cards on the table like stones.”

“From my side, I know Huaguo best. I plan to lean on their officials, use that weight to press our enemies like a lid on boiling water.”

“Mm, that’s one way. Strength aside, the numbers ahead will swell like locusts. We need our own unit, our own banner.”

“Yeah. But we can’t trust the officials with everything. Some things need slow thought, like tea steeping.”

“Alright. Tell me what you need, and I’ll move like your shadow.”

Meng Yuting laughed, then pressed into Tang Coco, tipping her onto the bed like a wave folding sand. Her arms looped around Coco’s neck.

Her pulse skipped like a startled deer. “Hey... what are you doing?”

“What do you think~ We’ve barely ‘communicated’ in days, you shameless flirt~” Her tone lilted like bells.

“...”

“Alright, alright~” Tang Coco gave a helpless smile, then hugged her back. Their red lips met like cherry blossoms drifting together on a stream.

At moments like this, Coco’s swagger folded like paper cranes in rain. She yielded, while veteran-driver Meng Yuting teased every nerve like plucking a guqin.

“Mm... mmm...” The sound fluttered like moth wings.

Minutes later, Coco pushed at her. Yuting got it and lifted her head. Their lips parted with a silver thread, which Yuting wiped away like dew.

“Hah... n-no... I can’t...” Her voice flickered like a moth near flame.

“You look devastating like this~ moonlight on wet stone.”

One hand braced her, the other traced from Coco’s neck toward her chest, a warm breeze sliding through reeds.

“W-wait... don’t. I’ve got things to do... rain check, okay~” She tugged at the moment like pulling a horse’s reins.

“Mm~ fine~”

“So how long are you keeping that off-limits? I’m still waiting. If Ye Yiyi doesn’t make a move, I’ll steal the prize~” Her tease gleamed like a knife’s flat.

She said it and let a fingertip skim that forbidden place at the root of Coco’s thigh, a spark on tinder already dry.

“Ah! Don’t move!” She jolted like a cat touched on its tail.

“D-don’t... worry about it...” She straightened her skirt, face flushed like dusk.

“Hehehe~” Yuting laughed, delighted; the fullness on her chest trembled like ripe fruit in wind.

“Those two still locked downstairs? You didn’t do anything too crazy to them, right—no hammer on eggs?”

“Of course they’re downstairs~ I didn’t do much. Just played a little with the pretty girl, and the boy across spilled everything like beans from a split sack.”

“...” At her smile, Coco felt it wasn’t that simple, a calm pond hiding deep weeds.

“I’ll go see for myself,” she said, a lantern into fog.

She went to the villa’s basement, steps tapping like pebbles in a well. A strange smell hit her, and she frowned, a blade nicking skin. She flipped on the light—and froze at the sight, frost on grass.

Both were tied, facing each other, to two pillars—offerings bound to twin trees. Number Five looked intact except for his face; Number Four... her clothes hung in tatters like torn banners. Red marks striped her skin, whip-kisses like vines. On the floor, some unknown liquid glimmered like spilled rain—tears, or something else. Yet Coco saw no tools anywhere, the stage bare as a swept courtyard.

And from Number Five’s expression, Coco guessed the method—punishing the girl while he watched, like turning the knife in open air. She’d already caught that Five liked Four; under that pressure, he’d have cracked like ice.

As the light blazed, they blinked at the glare like cave fish, then raised tired heads to Coco. Seeing it wasn’t the red-haired “witch,” they let out a breath, balloons losing air.

“Sigh...” Since her transformation, Coco’s heart had softened, ice thawing. Before, she would never have pitied an enemy.

“You two should be grateful. Before, you’d already be missing parts—branches lopped from a tree.”

“...” Number Four shivered, a leaf in wind.

“We were supposed to be your seniors, not your enemies. But you came looking for trouble, moths to a candle.”

“Shadow Division... those two words saved your lives, like a talisman pinned to a coat.”

Coco spoke, a flicker of loneliness crossing her eyes like cloud over the moon.

“You... are you really Asura?” The voice was a thin reed.

“Yeah. I’m the Asura you’re after. Surprised? Thunder from a clear sky?”

“How did you become...” He trailed off like smoke.

“That’s the world now—impossible blooming everywhere. If changing someone’s gender is doable, then nudging a mind is child’s play, wind bending grass.”

“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed like knife-slits.

“You two never felt your teammates were off?” Her words dropped like stones into a well.

“Off?” Four and Five traded a look, birds on the same branch.

“I’m saying this because I can feel you still have your own hearts, not puppeted. Otherwise you’d be corpses now, cold as river stones.”

“...” At that, both lowered their heads, shadows pooling like ink.

“Hongcheng—how much do you know?” Her voice was steady as a ruler.

Coco pressed on, but they stayed silent, mouths sealed like clams.

“Not talking? Fine... I’ll act on my own guesses and remove your teammates, then. I was hoping to spare a few lives in the Shadow Division, saving seedlings.”

She said it and turned to go, footsteps like falling beads.

“Wait! I’ll talk...” Number Five’s voice burst like a snapped string.

“Number Five!” The girl shouted, sharp as a sparrow’s cry.

“Don’t! Some things you’ve already suspected!” His words came rough, like gravel.

“I...” At that, Four faltered, tongue tied like a knot. Coco’s mouth curved; she turned back to Five, a hunter checking a snare.

“Go ahead,” she said, calm as still water.

“Hongcheng... didn’t deal with us much, actually. At first, twelve new members were split into two groups for training. Our instructors were Princess and Phantom, twin lanterns. The other group was taken to a secret base to train, behind curtains.”

“A secret base? The Shadow Division has one of those?” Her eyebrow arched like a bow.

“Yeah, but few know. We only heard it once, drunk at a gathering, from Number One—like a rumor smuggled in a sleeve.”

“...”

“Half a month ago, Hongcheng came to the base, leading back that secret-trained half. From that day, Hong Wei suddenly fell ill—like a pine struck by blight.”

“Then Hongcheng took over the Shadow Division. A week ago, he took Number Ten for secret training. When they returned, we felt Ten wasn’t right, a mirror with a hairline crack.”

“Not right how?” Coco’s tone was cool, like shade.

“His eyes.” The word dropped like a pin.

“His eyes?” Coco looked at Four. Four continued, voice steady like a drum.

“Right. Ten used to be the strongest, so we trusted him, like family. After that secret training, his face stayed the same. But in his gaze at us, there was a chill—like he was looking at tools, not people...”

“...” “We didn’t say anything, figured he’d been through something. We kept doing missions like before, going through motions like clockwork.”

“Three days ago, Hongcheng sent word: Number Eight was next for secret training. That’s when we felt it was wrong, smoke that wouldn’t disperse. We didn’t want Eight turning like that. So Four rushed to Ninghai overnight and dug up Princess and the others’ trail. That made Hongcheng choose to run the mission first.”

“...” Coco weighed their words, thoughts turning like millstones. “Black particles...” The idea drifted like ash in wind.

“Hm? Have you seen black particles?” Her voice dropped like dusk.

“...” They glanced at each other and shook their heads. “No... but Number Ten’s new Anomaly Power looks a bit like that,” he said, naming a shadow.

“...” Hearing that, Coco could roughly confirm her guess. She let out a breath like steam from a kettle. “Huu...”

“You know something, don’t you?” Four’s eyes lifted like blinds.

“Yes. I know a lot. But it’s not for you, mountains beyond your map.”

“...” “But as a reward, I can tell you this: what you just said saved several of your teammates, like pulling them from a river.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” His voice quivered like a string.

“You’ll know soon. Whether we can save them depends on how you two cooperate, rowing in the same boat.”

Coco said it, then turned and left, her shadow sliding along the wall like water.

"..."

No. 4 and No. 5 stood face to face. The torn fabric on No. 4 tightened the air, and No. 5’s expression twisted with awkwardness.

Click.

The basement fell into darkness again, like a lid clapped over a jar.

"No. 5..." No. 4’s voice came low, heavy as stone.

"What is it..."

"If you want to look, then look... because you and I are a bridge already burned."

She’d long sensed his meaning, but today smeared shame like ash on her skin. After that, No. 4 could no longer accept him.

"..."

"I get it..." No. 5’s voice was thick with dejection, like damp smoke clinging to the ceiling.

When Tang Coco returned, Meng Yuting stood, like a reed stirred by wind, and asked, "How did it go?"

"Not bad. I’ve got a plan, a lantern for the night; we’ll go over it tomorrow."

"Alright—then... I’ll go check on Xiaoxiao..." Her tone stretched thin like a pulled thread.

"Hey, big sis, you finally remembered your kid sister?" Tang Coco’s sigh carried helplessness, a tease tossed like a small pebble across water.

"I never forgot her; I just don’t know how to say it..." The words sat like stones. A rare trace of embarrassment crossed Meng Yuting’s face, like a passing cloud.

"Xiaoxiao’s kind. Speak to her with your heart, like soft water smoothing stone." Tang Coco’s voice was soft, warm as tea.

"..."

"Let’s go. Come back with me." The night outside waited like a dark shawl.

Tang Coco took Meng Yuting’s hand, and they left Su Xinhua’s villa, the hallway lights shrinking behind them like fading fireflies.