Bang!!

......

…The pain she’d braced for never came, like a storm that passed without rain.

Jiang Bailu had never been shot; she didn’t know a bullet’s taste, like iron water in winter, but it couldn’t be nothing. That told her Li Dapao hadn’t hit her, like a hunter missing the buck in the brush.

What the hell?

She opened her eyes. By her feet, the red carpet smoked around a fresh bullet hole, like a coal ember in velvet.

Even Li Dapao had misfired, like a firework that fizzled in the night.

“I missed? Impossible!” Li Dapao roared, a furnace of pride. “My shooting’s number one in the Sinister Organization! Racing, number one! Hand-to-hand, number one!”

You’re the big boss; who’d dare not give way to you, like reeds bowing to a passing gale?

The thought bit bitter. Pain burned her wrists and ankles like frostbite under a sunlamp, and the gun’s stare froze her breath in November’s chill.

“Forget it. Today’s not a day for shooting. Pale Knight!”

Pale Knight?

Wasn’t that Gu Xiangshi’s race car, like a white hawk on asphalt? He could turn a lifeless thing into a puppet, like a puppeteer tugging strings on a stone?

She darted a look to the window. Fear clawed like a cat at her ribs. Beyond the black square, the inside was endless shadow, like a moonless lake without shore.

She turned back. Li Dapao bit his fingertip, savage as a dog. He tore skin free; blood welled like a spring and dripped to the floor.

The drops sizzled on the carpet, like oil on a pan, and smoke coiled up like incense.

Two puppets walked out of the fog, like actors stepping onto a stage.

One was the policewoman from that day, a winter badge on her chest.

One was the emcee from the opening ceremony, a smile like lacquer.

Their faces were blank, like masks. They marched at her, fists lifting like hammers.

They punched—and hit each other’s faces, like mirrors shattering against mirrors.

“...Huh?”

Two fists flew true as arrows, then twisted midair like swallows in a gust, and crashed into the other’s cheek. Both figures flickered and broke, like ash on wind.

“What’s this? Useless.”

“Don’t say… they’re useless…!”

Her brow knotted with pain and fury, like thunderheads stacking—murdering innocents, wearing their faces, like wolves in skins. Even for a fighter, that was filth.

“Oh? And how’ll you stop me?” His voice slithered. “There aren’t many alive here. Scream all you want…”

Li Dapao’s grin turned lewd, like oil on water. He raised the gun and walked at her, boots like stones on a riverbed.

Come on—show fear, beg for life, or bolt like a rabbit...

......

Jiang Bailu stood her ground, eyes burning like coals. She glared at him, a hawk staring down a snake.

“Still daring to glare, little girl?”

He’d planned to play cat and mouse, like a child with a beetle. Her gaze lit his temper like dry grass, and he yanked the trigger.

Bang!!

Jiang Bailu watched… that bullet, like a black seed torn from the earth.

Like a slow-motion shot from The Matrix, her eyes caught the bullet, a hawk fixing on a sparrow in flight.

Why—

She swallowed, a stone dropping in a well. It wasn’t time slowing. The bullet itself spun, like a top in midair.

Between them, it whirled, a moth caught in a whirlwind.

“This…”

[—Now, while he’s not looking, dash into the next room, Bailu.]

A voice brushed her ear, like a breeze through bamboo.

Doctor? Was the Doctor guiding her, like a lighthouse? But the voice wasn’t hers, and Bailu wore no headset, like a swimmer with bare ears.

Forget it!

She lunged for the ajar guest room door, like a deer slipping into brush, and slammed inside.

“Hmph, trying to run?!”

The spinning bullet rattled his nerve like a drum. He jolted and charged, boots thudding like mallets.

[You see the wall’s landline. Rip the cord across the door and hook it. Slow him down.]

“Who… who are you?”

She obeyed, hands quick as sparrows. She looped the cord on the handle and fell back, shadows folding like curtains.

Li Dapao slammed into the taut cord, like a boar into bramble. He cursed, tore it free, and forced through, teeth bared like knives.

[I’m you, Bailu.]

“Ah?!”

[The bullet ‘Deflected’ just now because of your own ability, like a river that chooses its course.]

“My… what?”

She lifted her head, like a flower turning to light.

Something floated there, still as a winter moon.

A figure in a white coat with a hood, like a silent monk. Its body traced a human outline, faintly translucent, like glass in dusk. Its surface was pitch black, ink-dark, with formulas glowing like fireflies written across it.

They were her formulas, the ones she used in research, like constellations she’d charted a hundred times.

“Got you now.”

Li Dapao sneered, a jackal’s smile. He lifted the gun again, a storm cloud ready to break.

Bang!!

Bailu hissed and stared, eyes sharp like knives.

The bullet twisted midair, an impossible turn like a swallow carving a V, and drilled into Li Dapao’s left foot, like a hornet’s sting.

“The bullet’s path… changed? That’s… ‘Deflection’…”

[—Bailu, the most important thing is…]

The black figure spoke under the white coat, a calm river under ice.

It drifted down from the ceiling and stood before her, like a tree sheltering a traveler. Its slender shape matched hers, but that small motion steadied her like a hand on the shoulder.

[It’s your resolve ‘to reach the office’ and overcome everything, like a traveler crossing mountains.]

“I…”

“You bastard—! I’m a superpowered! One in ten thousand! You dare, you dare—”

Li Dapao snapped, mind’s rope breaking like old twine. He forgot bullets didn’t touch her, and his finger spasmed on the trigger like a cricket’s wing.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang!!

Six shots!

Between them, the air buckled like heat haze in midsummer, and space twisted like a mirage.

Six rounds deflected faster than her eyes could track, drawing folded paths like origami cranes in flight. Then they drifted back at him, slow as falling leaves, leaving no gap to escape.

“...Why… You? Superpower… I deserve…”

His bloodshot eyes bulged, like a dying bull’s. He saw his end coming like dusk sliding in. He fought it, wrists locked around the pistol like iron rings, and fired the last three in the magazine.

Bang!

His shoulder burst open like a cracked pomegranate.

Bang!

His belly turned to bloody pulp, like meat in a grinder.

Bang!

He clutched his chest; his body swayed like a cut reed.

Bailu did it on instinct. She braced a hand on the table, a rooted trunk, and rose. Her index finger trembled like a leaf. She pointed at the man with nowhere to go.

“...Go—smash him!”

The ghost clenched slim fists, mirrors of hers, like two knotted stones.

“———!!”

Black phantom punches fell like a monsoon, a thousand raindrops turned to fists. Wherever they landed, skin shredded like torn bark, and blood sprayed like red petals.

After a storm of blows, the mangled body crashed to the floor, like a felled tree.

Only then did the six bullets wander in, late as winter geese, and sink into the unmoving flesh. The meat trembled once, like a drum tapped for the last time.

......

In the guest room that had echoed with nine shots in a minute, silence pooled like still water.

“What’s your name?”

[Coffee Moon.]

“Is that so. You’re… pretty unique,” she murmured, like finding a rare shell.

Jiang Bailu sat in the widening blood, like a crimson pond. Strength drained away like tide. Her head fogged, heavy as snow.

No good… she’d black out. But the enemy was gone, like smoke after wind.

She drifted in and out of the murk for minutes, like a student nodding off in class. She dozed, jerked awake, and dozed again, until another voice surfaced.

“Finally found you. Not bad work, ‘———’s assistant. A bit grotesque.”

…Who?

Who was speaking, like a whisper through reeds?

How did she know… the Doctor’s real name, a swallowed thunder?

“The zombies that leaked out? I handled them. The city’s fine now, like dawn after a storm. But I won’t hold out till she returns, pity. When you wake, pass this on…”

She paused, like a gull hanging in wind.

“Tell her, Ivaris was here.”

Jiang Bailu’s awareness snapped, like a wire cut.

......

......

Before her eyes opened, pain woke everywhere, like pins of cold rain.

“She’s responding. She’s waking up!”

“Get towels and hot water!”

“Mm…”

She blinked open. Four or five faces bobbed above her, like lanterns in a crowd.

She’d seen them behind Gu Xiangshi, in that tide of people.

“How are the enemies?” Jiang Bailu asked, voice rough like gravel.

“Thanks to you, all gone! You’re our—”

He almost said hero, like a banner lifted. But Sinister Organization members stood nearby, and he swallowed the word like a hot stone.

“You’re our lifesaver, Miss Jiang Bailu!”

“Thank you! Really, thank you!” Voices rose like sparrows.

“Fatty, go fetch her teammates!”

They chattered like a market, but Bailu didn’t feel bothered. The noise felt warm, like a stove in winter.

Enemies—already wiped out.

She looked around. She seemed to be in a medical room, white and clean like snow.

She’d beaten Li Dapao, so his puppet summons had vanished like mist. Survivors had found her, exhausted and out cold, and carried her here, like rescuers bearing a friend.

Minutes passed. Yekase and Ling Yi burst through the door, like wind and rain, and the others made space and slipped out.

“Bailu, who’d have thought? The other awakened superpowered is you,” Yekase grinned, a spark in her eye.

Ling Yi took Bailu’s hand, warm as cloth. “Does it hurt? They said your wrists are sprained, and your ankles hit bone…”

Bailu saw the worry in Ling Yi’s face first, like a candle shielded by palms, and surprise trickled through her.

This eighteen-year-old girl had fought her two months ago, when Bailu’s modded Sky Striker hounded her like a hawk. Counting today, they’d only truly met four days.

Yet Ling Yi worried about Bailu’s injuries like a sister, careful and sincere.

Bailu began to see why the Doctor cared so deeply, like a guardian shadow, even stepping on stage to protect her.

“Sorry. We got delayed by things off script, too long. We’d planned to be back this afternoon.”

“How’s everyone else?”

“Luzhixing killed all puppets in the third camp alone, like a scythe through grain, only light wounds. Gu Xiangshi worked herself to collapse and hasn’t woken. The other survivors are fine. Deaths aren’t tallied; maybe dozens.”

“...Good.” She exhaled, a leaf settling. “Right. Before I blacked out, I met a girl. She told me to pass you a message.”

She opened her mouth, but the name slipped like water.

“Huh? I can’t recall… Something like, someone was here.”

“Figures,” Yekase smiled, like a cat in sunlight. “It’s her.”

“You know who she is?”

“I know she won’t leave alone,” Yekase said, a riddle like mist.

“???”

“By the way, I heard some superpowered can summon a ghost with a body to fight. Let’s see yours?” Yekase nudged the topic, a gentle shove like a breeze.

Bailu knew she didn’t want to say more. She indulged the turn and smiled, soft as silk. She called, like a bell:

“Coffee Moon.”

The black ghost in a white coat—hood off, it looked like a lab coat—floated from air, like ink forming a figure.

“Whoa, you really have one!”

Yekase reached out. Her hand met cushiony resistance, like a palm on a cloud.

She studied Coffee Moon, eyes tracing lines like a painter. She noticed something.

“This ghost—ignore the glowing formulas—its face and body outline are your shadow, one to one.”

“Mm-hm. Because she is me,” Bailu said, a river meeting its reflection.

“Mainly, the chest’s just as flat.”

“...Huh?”