Yekase hung up and looked toward the mouth of the alley at the building rearing like a cliff across the street.

The main base of Triple Calamity, squatting like a fortress of steel.

Shen Shanshan had said the leader was holed up in a basement safe room; having a standalone base did feel like living high on the mountain.

She already felt a twinge of regret; Shanshan's claim she couldn't beat Ma Wei was part truth, part bait, like a hook in muddy water—and she'd bitten fast.

They must have already seen through Mechbreaker's real body, like mist burned off by sun.

Feels like I'm the one who has to hide my identity, like some masked hero... I just hope I don't get killed, like a moth to a flame.

She fished a mask from her pocket, like drawing a moon from a sleeve.

She set it gently to her face, like a lid on a simmering pot.

The compressed hoodie stored in the mask unfolded from thin air, like a shadow blooming, and draped over the travel-light clothes she'd picked, cloaking Yekase in the unknown.

Calm spread through her like cool rain.

A covered face always felt safe, like a curtain against a storm.

She'd heard it somewhere: when you're nameless, you can vent hidden dark—yet Yekase had none, just worry and regret flash-frozen like winter fruit, finally letting her step on stage.

Per the plan, Roze would hit Triple Calamity's front gate at eight sharp, like a hammer on a bell, carving a slipstream for Shen Shanshan and her to slip in.

Time was almost up, like sand hissing out of a broken hourglass.

Yekase tipped her head to the ink-black sky, like a swimmer sighting the tide.

Between rolling ads painted across the cloud-mist, a streak of scarlet lit up, like a knife through silk.

Here it comes—like a flare knifing the night.

Its body was matte black, all hard, cutting lines veined with bright violet; under Flash Energy's burn it felt cold, like ice lit from within.

No gaudy add-ons, just a pure battlefield beast flinging Flash Energy like spray off a blade—the true 001 she’d conceived in college, her firstborn machine.

The posted fighters finally spotted the purple-red meteor screaming at them, and they locked ranks like shields in a tide.

So few of them, like sparse reeds in wind...

Roze dropped straight down from the air as light as a falling petal, and it didn't kick up a grain of dust, like a ghost landing.

Sky Striker ACE. Code-00.

Zec.

Clang!

Particles flared, and a long blade appeared in its hand, similar to a Sky Striker but without a guard, like a moon-sickle pared down.

That blade... looks familiar, like a face glimpsed in smoke?

Feels like I saw it somewhere lately, like a shadow in a mirror...

Crap—like ink spilling in her gut.

Failed failed failed failed failed failed failed—like drumbeats pelting a thin door.

She'd been so focused on backing up Bailu that she'd kept pumping combat power, like stoking a forge, and forgot the Flashblade System's sensitivity to identity.

Roze showing up here was like hanging a lantern on an obvious fact for all to see—Flashblade System is a product of Unrecognized Consortium X.

Then what about the newly debuted Flashblade Red, like a sprout under frost?

Who could swear she had nothing to do with the Consortium, like a clean sleeve in a dye-vat?

And who could be sure her fight with the mass-produced Zec wasn't just in-house infighting, like brothers knifing each other in the dark?

On that TV night, only the public's default fondness for heroes had barely rinsed off suspicion like rain washing dust.

And now she was shoving Ling Yi toward the firepit, like kindling to a blaze.

Tch—like a spark skidding off steel.

"So you were here," came Shen Shanshan's voice from the alley’s far mouth, like a blade sliding free.

"Sorry, it took time to shake old subordinates off like burrs. That robot can tank the front, right?"

She didn't even ask if the person before her was Mechbreaker, leaving the name unspoken like a paper screen intact, giving role-playing Yekase room to retreat.

"Yeah. Roze fights with physical strikes and Flash Energy bursts. No wide-area damage. We can wade into the crowd and slip the front gate, like fish in a rapid."

"Like you did the other night?"

"Yeah."

"Perfect for me," she said, rolling her neck with two crisp pops like snapping twigs.

Out on the plaza before the base gate, Roze was already tangled with the guards like a wolf in a flock.

Outnumbered, it didn't flag; each motion sprayed Flash Energy like cold fire, while the sharp Sky Striker blade and the razor edges on its limbs did real work; soon the metallic air of blood drifted into the alley like rust on rain.

Through the mask, Yekase drew a long breath, like pulling air through cloth.

"Move."

Her hoodie-draped shadow blurred for an instant like heat-haze.

Shen Shanshan had watched the footage from two nights ago on repeat, and she'd seen Yekase's strengths: short, violent bursts, and a build that, paradoxically, let her vanish in a crowd like a whale in waves.

Her ace was a swift, precise suppression once she got in close under cover against machines—like a bolt driven to the heart.

Too many limits, like fences in a maze.

Judging by those recorded distances, once she went deeper into the building she'd wilt on the spot, like a cut flower without water.

Rude as it sounded, she could hardly imagine Yekase excelling outside a melee, like a knife asked to be a spoon.

Stealing? That she could do, like a cat with soft paws.

Maybe the two of them could be phantom thieves together, like swallows at dusk.

By day, with time to kill, they could play managers, toss out banter, and collect rent like landlords on a slow street.

No, wait—Mechbreaker is already a rubber-suit act, like tokusatsu on a backlot.

Pfft. She couldn't help snorting a laugh, like a bubble breaking.

She'd expected to be asked what was funny, but no one picked it up; a sharper look showed the hoodie-clad shadow had already ridden the human tide to the stone lion at the gate like a leaf on a stream.

"Well, her breakout game really is reliable," Shen Shanshan said, like a battering ram wrapped in silk.

She didn't chase; she stepped from the alley openly like a queen crossing a hall.

Yekase glanced back and saw her striding so brazenly she couldn't parse it for a beat—like seeing a fish stroll on land.

A guard spotted her at once: "It's Lord Suishen! Lord Suishen's here to support us!" Voices popped up like sparrows from brush.

Shit—the move landed like a slap.

"There was even a play like that!"

"Captain Shen! Huh, weren't you and Captain Liu at the front?" "Yeah, why are you..." "Could it be..." The questions fluttered like flags in wind.

"I found their battle plan inside their base!" Shen Shanshan announced, face smooth as ice.

"They plan to pin us at the front while sending an assassin to strike the leader, like a knife under the table!"

The fighters erupted, like oil on a hot pan.

"Luckily I've already tagged the assassin and tracked him back here like a hound. Hold the line; I'll finish him fast!"

They cheered at once, like waves pounding a pier.

"Captain Shen, your battle sense is razor sharp!" "Amazing, is that another miracle gadget..." "We'll entrust the leader to you!" Praise flowed like warm wine.

Shen Shanshan waved to them as she walked straight through the base gate like she owned the place.

Yekase was crouched just inside the turn of the doorway, catching her breath like a runner in shade, and she whispered, "What about Masked Man 3333? You giving up on blending in?"

For a mercenary, the key quality isn't power—that's priced like weight on a scale—but integrity toward the employer, like a straight line on paper.

The minute Shen Shanshan chose to stand before the leader bare-faced, her mercenary career was finished like a candle pinched out.

"One masked person is enough," she said, glancing back out like a fox over its shoulder. "Also, is that an admission?"

"You're done pretending. Why should I keep acting, like a puppet on strings."

They fell silent for a few seconds, then both laughed together, like bells answering across a courtyard.

"Even if Ma Wei was all yours, I still couldn't be sure I'd take the leader without blowing my cover. Better not to pretend from the start than to tear the mask off halfway, like a play gone wrong."

"I've never heard your leader was that strong, like a mountain behind a screen."

"Not weaker than you."

"Using me as the benchmark? That means pretty weak, like a wooden sword."

Yekase steadied her breath and stood again, like a reed straightening. Shen Shanshan didn't look back and strolled deeper into the base like a cat in its own house.

They walked one behind the other with almost no resistance, like a knife through tofu, until they reached Basement Level Two.

"The safe room's on B3. From here we should hit guards. Well? Straight assault or stealth, like wind or water?"

"What kind of stealth?"

"The classic: crawl the vents, like rats in the rafters."

"Crawl."

Yekase wasn't arrogant enough to think she could smash head-on with the fighters, like a sparrow charging an eagle.

Shen Shanshan was stronger, but she was a tools-and-tricks type—add explosives, rope, soft armor, poison caltrops and she might hit three hundred points; her body alone was maybe sixty, like a blade without a hilt.

One-versus-a-thousand? That's a daydream, like castles in the air.

They slipped into the break room, like thieves in a shrine.

Shen Shanshan stepped on the table, hopped up on the water dispenser, and drove a knife into the seam where vent fan met wall, scraped a few times, then lifted the whole fan free like peeling a lid.

Behind it yawned a black duct only a few dozen centimeters across, like a burrow.

"The ducting's pretty tangled; follow me like a tail."

Shen Shanshan wriggled in first like a snake into brush.

Yekase grimaced at the grime, gave a little ugh, and followed, like a cat stepping in puddles.

She tapped two buttons on the earbud she'd used to call Jiang Bailu; a tiny beam glowed from a pinhole in the shell and fell on Shen Shanshan's leg and athleisure-clad butt like a small lantern.

"Hmm..."

Better turn the light off, like snuffing a firefly.

Shen Shanshan didn't react to the moment behind her—maybe she didn't care—and led Yekase through twists and climbs until they reached another fan, like threading a bamboo grove.

This space was roomy; Yekase slid up alongside and, left and right with Shen Shanshan, lay prone to peer through the slow-spinning blades into the room like hunters in grass.

In an open hall of about a hundred square meters, four armed guards stood at the corners, with two patrolling; the main target wasn't here, like a boss hidden in the next chamber.

"Princess, did you put points into Assassination?"

"...?"

"'Ji' as in 'princess,' right? Mechbreaker," she whispered, like a teasing fan.

"I didn't pick that nickname myself... We can lift the stragglers, but these... the positions are awful, like knots in bamboo."

"Knew it?"

"Of course."

"The worst are the four with their backs to the corners. The room's too bare for smoke; jumping out naked is suicide, like doves before hawks. Even with a cloak, they’re spaced too far; if we drop one each, the rest will still trip alarms, like bells on strings."

Yekase swore inwardly to rip the optical camouflage engine off a stealth chassis later and make it portable, like a cloak of mist.

Think...

If this were a stealth game, how would we do it, like moving pieces on a Go board?

Noisemaker decoys? Another route that skirts this place? One-tap hack of their comms, like a wire into a beehive...

Comms!

"You know their internal band?"

"I do, but without their guard passcodes, how do we issue fake orders, like a voice in the wrong wind..."

Yekase pulled an MP3 player from her hoodie pocket like a rabbit from a hat.

"Aw, hell."

"The answer isn't to give orders. It's to put them to sleep—straight hypnosis, like a lullaby poured in their ears."