As night pooled like ink, the street’s gunfire thinned, its roar diluted by the dark like rain swallowed by soil.
After dusk, the Capital Alliance tried a counterattack, a spark against stone, but the Parliament forces absorbed it behind cover like turtles under shell.
Smog hung like damp gauze; sight shrank to arm’s length, so both sides lowered the storm and faced off like silent cliffs.
...
In that lull, four shadows slipped up from the drainpipes, slick as eels, carrying the stink of rust and damp.
“Huh? Are we there?”
“Yeah. This is the place. He should be waiting, like a lantern left on.”
Purple Illusion pointed to the Mackenzie storefront, its day shuttered by war; a seal clung to the glass, and the hollow shop sat dark as a well.
The purple-haired girl drew a key; with the ease of rain finding a crack, she slid through the back door.
“Liuyi, stay on me. Watch for stray rounds; they fly like wasps.”
“Mm!”
Yue Liuyi nodded; she and LittleSnow slipped in after, quiet as cats.
“Uh... trusting this guy—really smart?”
Last in, Luyao edged inside, suspicion pricking like nettles. Red hair hot as ember, he still doubted Purple Illusion, but if Liuyi called it a plan, he’d swallow sparks and follow.
They entered through Mackenzie’s back—kitchen and storeroom, steel and spices sleeping like old stones.
“Oh? You made it. Over here—this corner’s safer, like shade under a tree.”
A man’s silhouette uncoiled from the dark; he peered past crowded shelves like jagged ridges, beckoning them over with a flicker of hand.
He was about fifty, flesh soft as bread, hair frosted, glasses glinting; the air around him smelled academic, like paper and dust.
“Ready?”
“Sure. If it’s me, it’s tight as drumskin... but did you bring the money?”
His gaze slid over Purple Illusion, then Yue Liuyi and Yue Dier, and finally stopped on Luyao—and the heavy pack like a boulder on his back.
“Of course. It’s all here.”
Purple Illusion flicked a hand; Luyao, go.
“...”
He hated her high-and-mighty tone, a hawk calling from high branch—but he kept the servant mask on and unzipped the pack like opening a vault.
Stacks of bills gleamed like scales. Each note bore a dragon—currency from Dragon Heaven, hard coin accepted across civilizations like iron coins in a market.
“Oh-ho... this much? That’s delicious—like flood after drought!”
Money lit his eyes like coals; he crowded in, hunger bright as a fox’s grin.
“This is only the deposit; when it’s done, more cash will rain.”
“I know. Then I’ll take you to the hospital—straight as an arrow.”
He nodded, greed curling like ivy at his smile.
...
They changed clothes, shedding mud like skins, and walked to the research center’s gate, five shadows under a white glare.
A searchlight cut across them like a blade; a uniformed man stepped in, voice tight as wire: “Who are you?”
Behind him, the steel mech glowed red, like a furnace ready to spit bullets if a word went wrong.
“Li Jue, Director of the Life Research Division.”
“P—Professor Li Jue?”
The guard’s face cracked in surprise, like ice under sun.
“Open up. I need to check if the instruments took damage—war chews glass like grit.”
“Director Li, sorry—you can’t pass now. Orders from above, no free in or out.”
“Oh... but this is urgent. These devices are delicate, like moth wings; war tears them like claws.”
As if rehearsed, Li Jue palmed an envelope and slid it into the guard’s sleeve, soft as a whisper through grass.
“Uh... orders stand, but if it’s Director Li, we’re good. Open the gate.”
Feeling the envelope’s weight like a stone in the pocket, the guard murmured back to his partner; the black gate parted like a mouth.
The girls and Luyao followed Li Jue into the research center—the hospital, slipping from street storm to antiseptic hush.
We’re in...
The thought rose like steam.
It wasn’t just Dreamwood Star or Linelor City; outside capital like StarGel Industries had rotted through, wood eaten under the paint.
Li Jue, a professor at StarGel Industries and head of Life Power Research, wore rank like a sash—mid-tier, neither peak nor root.
Yet even he carried a second heart, split like a fruit—ready to trade trust for coin under a dim lamp.
A money-driven giant looks iron-clad, but with more money pressing in, it tears like paper in rain.
...
They paced after Li Jue, deeper into the center, steps soft as reeds in wind.
Layers of security rose like fences; with their passes, they fell away like straw screens, no trouble at all.
They reached the deepest wing.
Disinfectant drifted like pale mist; most rooms slept dark, and wire-laced windows caged the air, trapping people like birds in glass.
Sister...
Purple Illusion pressed down her surge of feeling, like a lid on boiling water; her face stayed calm as stone.
Even if this was her first glimpse in a year, her heart beating fast as a sparrow in hand.
“Where’s life-support A07?”
“Right here.”
Li Jue stopped before a towering nutrient tank, a cold egg of metal and glass.
The egg-shaped rig moved magical crystals and nutrient flow like twin rivers, wrapping the patient inside in a sheath of life force.
“Mm... vitals steady—like a candle that refuses to gutter.”
A girl floated in the tank, nearly mirror to Purple Illusion; she slept, light-purple hair drifting in beads like jellyfish.
But illness had sanded her down; her face held no health, lips pale as paper, color drained like winter.
“Alright. Take her away.”
Relief flicked through Li Jue like a breeze; he shook his head and pressed a switch.
The liquid receded like tide; the glass partition opened with a sigh, a mouth of clear stone.
“Sister!”
Purple Illusion couldn’t hold the dam; she surged forward, arms out like wings.
Her sister’s skin was wet and cool, and that familiar presence flooded back, warm as spring sun after frost.
Her sister stood right there, close as breath!
“Purple Illusion! We need to move!”
“Y-yeah... I know.”
Yue Liuyi’s voice tugged her back like a hand on the sleeve.
It wasn’t the hour for reunion; the center was a wolf’s den in velvet, not safe. They had to get her out, fast, to a safe place for real healing.
And whether they could pull it off now rested on the blue-haired girl—hope bright as a flame cupped in both hands.
