The knack for wielding Mind Energy, like catching lightning in a jar.

Mind Energy is a will-centered Infinite Power; the firmer the belief, the better it works, like iron heated red. Yet without aptitude, however steadfast, you can’t rouse even a spark, like wet tinder.

Isn’t that bitterly ironic, like snow in midsummer?

An energy that grows by faith yet ignores some people’s faith, like a mute altar with no flame—

It declares talent trumps faith, like a seam splitting down the spine.

Many scholars probed this knot at Mind Energy’s root; none found an answer, like miners in a blind tunnel. The contradiction got shelved as “that’s just how it is,” like dust brushed under a rug.

Yekase is one of the “no response” cases, like a match that won’t take.

She studied Mind Energy’s principles, built Mind Energy tools, stripped and reassembled Mind Energy armor, like gears laid bare. Yet it wouldn’t thrum in her palm or burn to her will, like a stubborn coal.

So what. Infinite Power comes in many currents, like rivers fanning to sea.

Flash Energy, Omega Ray, Sorcery—enough to handle any trouble a regular person can stir, like storms bottled in jars.

Besides, Ling Yi’s good at it; her knack for Flash Energy rivals Mind Energy, like twin flames on one wick. Both operate straight through the body, like muscle wires pulled tight. One thought from her can evolve the mech Yekase spent hours designing, right on the spot, like a seed bursting after rain.

If only she had that sense and control—like hawk eyes and a surgeon’s hand.

…

…………

By the time Yekase reached the canteen door, only streetlamps and starlight kept watch, like candles on a vast altar.

Her breath eased; the faint rhythm drowned in the mountain night’s frogs and insects, like rain on leaves. Even this man-made island has frogs and bugs? She couldn’t figure it, like a puzzle missing a piece.

She pushed the canteen’s dark door, wanting a bite, like a traveler seeking ember-warmth.

Bang!

Bang bang!!

“Huh?!”

Streamers burst on both sides and rained on Yekase’s head and shoulders; the lights flared at once, like dawn breaking.

Crimson Field, Ling Yi, Professor F, Dragon God Shark—everyone was there, like constellations gathered.

“Congrats, Doc! You finished the run!” Ling Yi rushed in and hugged Yekase; her chest armor slammed her breathless, like a battering ram in silk.

“We watched the drone’s live feed, tense as bowstrings.” “Several times we thought you’d drop… I need to learn your backbone!” Crimson Field was giddy like a champion hoisting a flag.

“Impressive.” Even Dragon God Shark nodded, like granite conceding a ripple.

“Oh… oh… oh…”

Yekase felt proud too; but this level of festivity, like lanterns at noon? Anyone walking in would think she’d felled a great foe and returned in triumph, like a general with laurels.

“We cooked again for you together. Eat your fill; you earned this,” like hosts stoking a hearth.

Professor F snapped her fingers; two robots carried colorful dishes forward, like attendants bearing lanterns. Not the usual plastic-box portions; they were clearly made special, like festival plates.

Ling Yi and Crimson Field ushered Yekase to her seat, like birds sheltering a fledgling.

The robots handed her bowl and chopsticks, like monks offering prayer beads.

……

She was grateful for the hand-cooked meal, but a cloud pressed at her temples, like mist before rain.

“So… you’re just going to stand there and watch me eat?” Her voice tapped like a spoon on glass.

The four had sat before; now they formed a half-circle by Yekase’s side, doing nothing but watching, like statues around a shrine.

“Is that not okay?” The words hung like a kite with no wind.

“Can anyone eat like this?!” Her patience cracked like thin ice.

“You’re surprisingly slender, Doc,” like a willow under sunlight.

“Is that the issue here…” Her tone fell like a pebble in a pond.

“Then we’ll face the other way,” like reeds turning with the breeze.

They turned together, presenting their backsides to Yekase, like a row of stubborn mules.

“You guys…” Her sigh rose like smoke.

“Alright, alright, joke’s over. Go rest! Your second class awaits tomorrow!” The command clicked like a switch.

The three scattered like birds flushed from brush.

At the table, only Yekase and Professor F remained… plus her robot attendants, like quiet lampstands.

Yekase could read it; the air ready for big talk, like thunder muttering beyond hills.

Professor F poured herself tea, sipped, then finally said, “Dr. Yekase, the design for Dragon God Eden is complete. Construction can begin soon,” like a banner unfurled.

“Ah, that’s great…” Relief flowed like warm honey.

A large mech sits idle most days, yet it’s indispensable at critical moments, like a bridge in flood. With Yekase’s resources, building one for Ling Yi from nothing was hard, like carving stone with a needle. Professor F’s full support solved it, like wind filling sails.

“But is it really alright? Flashblade Red’s state, honestly…” She rarely used uncertain tone; it wavered like a candle in a draft.

“If we’re artisans processing Infinite Power, Flashblade Red’s current fighting is more like bare-knuckle brawling with Infinite Power itself,” like flint striking wild sparks. “I’m not sure it’s beneficial, but it’s effective. Mixing Mind Energy and Flash Energy is a confluence like two rivers carving one gorge.”

Yekase didn’t catch the worry. “Isn’t that fine? Though seeing my invention hacked on the spot feels… a bit weird,” like a painter watching someone add strokes.

“Dr. Yekase, there’s a saying among the people; I wonder if you’ve heard it,” her words flowing like a creek in shade. “Before Mind Energy was opened to all, elites and wandering knights monopolized it not because of the threshold—we both know its threshold.” “Its modern popularization had another reason,” like a hidden root under soil.

“What reason?” Curiosity pricked like a thorn.

“Today’s propaganda says Mind Energy can strengthen the body to compete in arms with the West,” like drums beating across a river.

“Uh…” The sound drooped like wet cloth.

That touched a field Yekase didn’t grasp, like fog rolling over maps.

“Use a bit of Mind Energy and you get stronger? No such easy miracles,” like a mirage over sand. “If it were true, we’d have armed every citizen and steamrolled the world,” like iron marching over wheat. “The so-called strengthening is actually—bodily modification,” like chisels on bone.

“…?!” Her mind jolted like a bell struck.

“So I’m worried about Flashblade Red. She’s a good kid,” like a bright lantern in a draft. “I don’t want her protecting others by walking the road of self-sacrifice.” “That’s no hero; that’s a worry and a troublemaker,” like a flame that eats its own wick.

“…I get you.” The words fell like snow on a sleeve.

Should she warn Ling Yi to stop using that two-tone flame mode? Yekase lacked confidence to sway her, especially with the Heavenly Prison King’s vast shadow over her, like an eclipse. She craved strength urgently; vague side effects wouldn’t scare her, like sparrows ignoring distant thunder.

If so, then only one path, like a blade drawn from its sheath—

Yekase would forge newer, stronger weapons and forms, making Mind Energy lose its edge, like steel outshining bronze!

With her new target set, Yekase finished eating and returned to her room, feeling busyness bloom, like bees after dawn.

Her Sorcery study, new-form interface development, Dragon God Eden’s arrival and arrangements… tasks stacked like tiles.

“Doctor?”

Ling Yi stepped from the bath wrapped in a towel, steam haloing her like morning mist.

“Ah, you’re done? My turn then,” like passing a torch.

Yekase forced a casual smile, grabbed fresh clothes from the suitcase, and went into the bath, like slipping into a quiet cove.

She was sweat-slick, yet she finished in ten minutes, like a swift rain over tiles.

“Doctor, that bath was too fast! Is this the master craftsman’s efficiency creed?” like a stopwatch ticking.

“You guessed it.” Yekase skipped the towel, blow-dryer in one hand, roughing her hair with the other, like a sparrow shaking dew.

Ling Yi slapped the bed and yelled, “No way! Before master craftsman, you’re a beautiful girl! A beautiful girl’s bath can’t be under half an hour!” Her protest fluttered like banners.

“Is that your rule?” like a raised eyebrow carving a line.

“My rule,” she declared, like stamping a seal.

“Great. I thought it was in criminal law,” like a joke flicked like a pebble.

Yekase felt a pang; her true self was a 27-year-old city veteran, yet only before Ling Yi did she hold the reins, like a rider on a skittish horse…

“I’ll go talk with Dragon God Eagle. You rest first,” like a feather touching water.

“Eh—” dragged like taffy.

Yekase put on clothes and left the room, like stepping into a corridor of cool air.

She did want to talk—though not to Crimson Field, but to Dragon God Shark; the warrior’s austere nature could become a risk here if trust wasn’t exchanged, like frost creeping across glass.

Dragon God Shark’s room was… Room 101, like a number carved on stone.

Knock, knock, knock, like pebbles on a drum.

……

…No response, like a pond without ripples.

The door was unlocked; inside was still. Did she go out to train alone? That’s diligence, like a blade honed at midnight.

Yekase wasn’t a saint; she checked that no one was around and slipped the door open, like a cat into a pantry.

…

Dragon God Shark lay face-down on the sofa, breathing soft and even, sleeping quietly, like tide against sand.

She hadn’t even taken the bed; likely hadn’t changed clothes, like a guard fallen at her post.

She must be exhausted; she was quiet while watching earlier. No—it's her nature, like granite under rain.

If so, she’ll wait for another chance to talk alone, like saving a letter in a drawer…

“Hmm?” like a moth flicker.

Looking closer: beneath Dragon God Shark’s stray hair, a tiny wireless earbud sat in her ear, still lit and working, like a firefly buried in reeds.

What was she listening to? Curiosity stirred like a breeze. Does she wear it all the time? Yekase used the condensed finesse she saved for fine circuits to remove it fast and quietly, then slipped it into her own ear, like a thief palming a coin.

[ZEROS ZEROS ZEROS…]

In the earbud, Dragon God Shark’s own voice repeated one word, over and over, like a drumbeat in a cave.

[…ZEROS ZEROS ZEROS ZEROS ZEROS…]

She couldn’t; another loop and she’d get brain-rot. Yekase hurriedly took the earbud out and slipped it back in place, like setting a stone back in a wall.

She looked at Dragon God Shark’s calm sleeping face and frowned. What was this, like a charm whispered to a locked door? A young woman wearing an earbud all day, looping a single cryptic word…

Only one thought came: eerie, like a chill from an open well. It felt like tugging a thread that might lead to a very dark secret. Better to pretend it never happened…?

Yekase left Room 101 like a quick retreat, footsteps light as leaves.

Back in their room, Ling Yi was on her phone; seeing Yekase return so fast, she asked, “Efficiency creed even for socializing?” like tapping a glass fishbowl.

“Ling Yi, have you heard the name ZEROS?”

“…?” like a tilted head.

It was a question with no head or tail; even so, Ling Yi thought seriously, then shook her head, unsure, like a cloud drifting past.

“Is that someone’s name?” like a pebble tossed into a well.

“Not necessarily a person. It just popped into mind. Nothing important,” she said, like folding a note shut.

But for Dragon God Shark, it had to be a word she reminded herself of constantly, like a mantra carved on bone.

…She couldn’t pretend not to know, like a thorn under a sleeve.

But asking her directly would expose her trespass; for now, she could only watch and wait, like a fisherman at dusk.

Sigh… like wind through reeds.

“Sighing makes you age,” like a playful breeze pushing a door.