“Doctor, I think I just found something huge!”
Xiao Qianxue lay unconscious on the bed, pale as moonlight on snow. The researchers drew blood straight from her wound, red blooming like a broken camellia. The tests came back with results that shattered their expectations like glass.
“Remember that augmented human program we were forced to scrap?” A lab coat with glasses rushed over, arms windmilling, waving a report like a flag in a storm.
“You’ve got the guts to bring that up?” The Doctor’s hand cracked across his face, a slap sharp as a whip. The man staggered, dazed, like a moth pinned under light. “If that damn AI hadn’t wrecked everything, that project would’ve been a success!” Rage burned like oil. He lifted his foot, ready to kick, a shadow of fury looming over the lab he clearly once commanded.
“This girl carries the perfected serum from that project!” The researcher shouted through fear, voice ringing like a bell. “She’s been injected with the ideal revision. We can mass-produce off her sample!”
“For real?” The Doctor pulled his foot back and snatched the report, eyes skimming fast as a hawk over water. “Heh… hahahaha!” His laugh burst out like a broken dam. “We’ve struck gold.” He turned toward the blonde girl behind him, his smile curdling into a predator’s grin. “Treat her. Her life’s worth more than you trash combined.”
Under a rush of medical hands, Xiao Qianxue’s wounds were cleaned, stitched like leaf-veins. The mess stopped looking like a battlefield, yet scars seemed inevitable, marks etched like old bark.
“Enough. Draw more blood for samples. Prep for brainwashing.”
Orders snapped through the lab like thunderclaps, and everyone moved, ants under a scorching sun.
“Seal the blood in the encrypted cold case. Guard the samples like your lives.”
“Run the machine diagnostics. If it fails, your heads roll.”
“All green. Ready to rewrite memory.”
The Ouyang Clan’s strength was a black forest; their dirty methods were the undergrowth. Rumor had been a wind for years: they hunted powerful espers, cornered them like wolves, and forced them by any means. In the end, they rewrote minds and memories, turning foes into family.
For memory edits, the Ouyang Clan had prepared hundreds of memory modules, each tailored like a mask for a different face. When the washing finished, those people acted as if born within the Ouyang Clan, every hallway familiar, every command a lullaby. It was terrifying, and it was evil.
“Alright. Become one of us.” With all instruments confirmed, the Doctor pressed the start button. Lights flared like a cold sunrise.
—
“Brother Yu, we’re here.” A gray-haired youth with a big blade on his back called out, voice crisp as steel on ice, to Tang Shaoyu, who was studying intel Lin Fan had sent.
“Got it, Ah Hui.” Tang Shaoyu tapped the button on his armored forearm. The floating holo-screen folded away like a kite in the wind.
“Listen up. We’re jumping straight from the plane. Follow me down. We’ll link up with Lin Fan below.” His voice boomed from the suit’s built-in speakers, a drumbeat driving hearts, and he slammed the bay release.
Air roared as the hatch opened, a hungry wind clawing at them. The elites barely blinked, standing steady like trees in a gale.
“I’ll go first.” Tang Shaoyu took a few long strides and jumped.
“Looks like Brother Yu won’t need his chute again.” Ah Hui smirked, tossed his parachute to someone behind, and backflipped into the sky.
“Ah Hui, you bastard! Your blade almost sliced my chute!” Another esper dove with him, shouting so loud it shook the clouds. If fury were a kick, he’d have planted it on Ah Hui’s face.
“Mu Zhen, with your ability, you won’t die without a chute.” Ah Hui laughed and pitched into a steep dive, cutting through the air like a falcon.
“Damn it, I’ll pound you when we land!” Mu Zhen flexed, muscles surging like braided ropes, and plunged after him at full speed.
The earth rushed up, a vast green sea swelling beneath them. Tang Shaoyu stayed calm, pulse steady like a drum. He thumbed a button. His suit unfolded and thrusters fired backward. Whoosh—smoke blossomed; he touched down as lightly as a leaf settling. Blue light flickered across the armor, then metal plates clicked and slid, a machine’s chorus, restoring the suit to its sleek form. “Worth every coin,” he murmured, admiring his rich-boy special gleam.
The espers popped their chutes at the last stretch, shaving speed with surgical precision. For them, a little cushion was enough; the rest couldn’t hurt.
“Ah Hui, you’re dead!” The instant Ah Hui landed, a black weight slammed into him. Boom! The ground quivered, dust jumping like startled sparrows.
“Ahhh, that hits the spot.” Smoke thinned, revealing Mu Zhen sitting square on Ah Hui’s blade. Under him, the gray-haired youth’s eyes spun like tops.
“You two, quit it. We’re on mission.” Tang Shaoyu pinched his brow, patience thinning like a drawn bowstring.
When the team gathered, Tang Shaoyu took point, running toward the rendezvous. “Didn’t think those dogs from the Ouyang Clan would stoop this low. A base in deep mountain forest?” A red-haired, single-ponytail girl wrinkled her nose. She didn’t fear the Ouyang Clan, but the forest’s bugs were an army of their own.
“Bear with it, Xinyu. We handle business, then we leave.” Tang Shaoyu kept his pace fast as wildfire, voice steady as a hand on a blade.
—
“Why aren’t Tang Shaoyu’s people here yet?” Lin Fan’s impatience sparked, tapping at his virtual map. He’d only arrived a minute ago, but waiting still felt like rain on hot stone.
“Don’t worry, young master. I sense many feet running this way. Should be their crew.” A middle-aged man pressed his hand to the ground, listening like a hunter, then rose.
“Thanks, Uncle Pang.” Lin Fan nodded, gratitude quiet as shade.
In half a minute, Tang Shaoyu appeared first, blue-and-white armor flashing like a fish in a river. Ah Hui, Mu Zhen, and the rest streamed in behind, a pack in motion.
“Shaoyu, gone a while and you switched careers to Iron Man?” Lin Fan stepped up and rapped his knuckles on the armor, a friendly knock sounding like rain on tin.
“Call it keeping up with the times.” Tang Shaoyu grinned, then leaned to peek past Lin Fan’s shoulder. “You brought her out. Guess this time we’re really not playing.” He lifted his chin toward a silver-haired girl behind Lin Fan. A long tachi almost her height rode her back, steel straight as a pine. A black trench draped her form, and beneath, a fishnet-style bodysuit clung like shadow. Two black sheaths sat at her waist, quiet as night. Her fine features were cold, no ripple of emotion. Only the red headphones on her head struck a bold note, a single pop of color against winter frost.
Lin Fan tilted his head toward her, resolve settling like a blade in its sheath. “Yeah. This time, we succeed no matter what.”
Espers Organization, ranked fourteenth. Codename: Dark Devour.
