At H City’s private aviation terminal, Lin Jie waited.

He’d received word from Xiao Zhan’s group that they’d land here via private jet—and demanded he pick them up. Lin Jie had almost refused, but the thought of Thirteen traveling with them made him curious.

*An hour past schedule. Probably crashed somewhere,* Lin Jie mused. *No show today, it seems.*

Just then, a teleporter abruptly filled his vision.

“Finally,” Lin Jie muttered, watching it approach.

But something felt off. “Since when do teleporters spew black exhaust? Zero eco-friendliness. And why’s it still hovering?”

Before his stunned eyes, the teleporter hit the landing zone—then executed a sharp ninety-degree turn. Nose-diving straight down.

Mercifully, parachutes burst from its rear. Airport staff activated emergency protocols: an anti-gravity field flared beneath the runway, catching the vessel mid-plummet.

Fire crews swarmed instantly.

Only then did Lin Jie realize the “black exhaust” was actually burning debris. Thick smoke coiled across the tarmac.

“Thirteen’s curse strikes again. Still undefeated,” Lin Jie grinned, flashing a thumbs-up at the wreckage. “Worth the trip. Front-row seats to chaos.”

He strode toward the teleporter as flames died down. A figure leaped out, whooping: “Yahaha! Told you! Airport anti-grav fields are the best playground! I ride them every time!”

Lin Jie froze.

The man’s head was shaved on both sides, a single golden Mohawk blazing down the center. Sleeveless black leather clung to his torso, spiked shoulder guards glinting. A chain dangled from his fist.

*What fresh Mohawk goon is this?!* Lin Jie screamed internally.

“Yahaha! Brother! You came!” The man swaggered over. “Long time no see! Let’s grab a motorcycle—I’m itching to race through H City!”

“Who the hell are you?” Lin Jie blinked. “I don’t recall any Mohawk goons in my contacts.”

“What?! I’m Thirteen! Forgotten me already? Need a knuckle sandwich?” The Mohawk goon barked.

“You’re Thirteen?!” Lin Jie recoiled. “Wasn’t this supposed to be *intensive training*? Did you audition for a post-apocalyptic musical?!”

Last he’d seen Thirteen, the man was a composed, gentle-smiled youth. Now? A grinning wasteland extra.

“Just embraced my true self,” Thirteen shrugged. “Forget that! Brother, motorcycles await!”

“…”

“Lin Jie. Long time no see, my friend.” Xiao Zhan’s voice cut through the shock.

“Xiao Zhan! What happened to Thirteen?” Lin Jie whirled around—then choked. “What the hell happened to *your* art style?!”

Xiao Zhan mirrored Thirteen’s wasteland aesthetic, but where Thirteen looked like cannon fodder, Xiao Zhan radiated *protagonist energy*.

“We haven’t changed,” Xiao Zhan declared.

“Bullshit!” Lin Jie jabbed a finger. “The outfit’s one thing—but since when do you have biceps like boulders? And those seven scars on your chest?!”

“This training forged me stronger. I am now the heir of the Big Dipper Fist,” Xiao Zhan announced. “I’ve mastered Reincarnation Without Form.”

“Master your ass! Should I call you ‘Shao Si Lang’ next?!” Lin Jie snapped.

“I am myself. I’ve *refined* this martial art!” Xiao Zhan whipped out a heavily censored rod. “Behold my new technique: the Big Dipper Mosaic Rod.”

“Your art style’s completely shattered! Shao Si Lang never wielded a censored vibrator! Give me back the real man I knew!” Lin Jie wailed, staring at the vibrating rod in horror. “Someone sedate this lunatic! Feiwu! Get out here! Your boss’s lost his mind!”

“You called?” Bu Feiwu emerged—in a pristine maid uniform.

“You look sane,” Lin Jie sighed. “What’s wrong with your boss?”

“I don’t know!” Bu Feiwu squeaked.

“They’re all like this, and you’re clueless?” Lin Jie frowned at the trembling maid.

“I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!” She collapsed into a crouch, hands over her head. “I’M USELESS! I CAN’T EVEN HELP! I’M SORRY! SORRY!” Tears streamed down her face.

“Whoa—I didn’t yell that hard!” Lin Jie backpedaled. “Just wanted a simple explanation!”

“I’M WORTHLESS! EVEN THIS SIMPLE TASK—I FAILED!” Her panic spiked. “A worm like me doesn’t deserve your kindness! I should die! I’M TRASH! YOU MUST HATE ME!”

“What trauma did you survive?!”

“Punish me! Please! I can’t bear this guilt!” She sobbed, pulling a laser dagger. “Worthless trash must be erased!” The blade lunged toward her throat—

“Stop!” Lin Jie snatched the dagger away. “What fresh hell is this?! Can’t anyone be *normal*?!”

“Precisely!” White Gold’s voice boomed. “How can they protect H City like this?”

“White Gold! A sane voice!” Lin Jie turned—then froze again.

White Gold gleamed in head-to-toe golden armor.

“What’s with the cosplay?!” Lin Jie yelled. “What ‘training’ did you endure?!”

“I’ve ascended! I am now a Gold Saint!” White Gold struck a pose, chest heaving. “My cosmos burns bright! I shall protect my goddess!”

“Since when do you have cosmos powers?!” Lin Jie gaped. “And weren’t you gay? How’d you swing straight in two weeks?!”

Nearby, medics carried away Yatan and Weapon—both clad in cracked bronze armor.

“What the hell happened to them?!”

“Hmph! Bronze trash dared challenge a Gold Saint mid-flight. I crushed them,” White Gold crossed his arms.

“They’re on our side!”

“No one steals my right to guard the goddess.”

“You were gay!” Lin Jie hissed.

“The past is dead. Now I feast on both genders!” White Gold lunged into a Pegasus Meteor Fist stance.

“I’m checking this freak into a psych ward later,” Lin Jie muttered.

A heavy hand clapped his shoulder.

*What now?* Lin Jie braced himself—then lost his composure.

A tear-streaked, obsidian face loomed. Black Gold.

“Stop staring at me with puppy-dog eyes! It’s creepy!”

Black Gold dropped to his knees. Sobs wracked his frame.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Lin Jie yelped.

“Lin Jie…” Black Gold choked. “I want to play basketball!”

“…” Lin Jie swallowed hard. “You think you’re Hanamichi Sakuragi?! At best, you’re Akagi Ryota!”

“I hate fighting. I just want to play basketball.”

“You have a *violent* day job!”

Winter Xueer stepped off the teleporter.

“Bro, let’s roll. Everyone’s here,” Thirteen said.

“Where’s Winter Leaf? Didn’t she come?”

“She’s recovering in B City.”

“What about Glasses? With her?”

“Oh—right.” Thirteen pulled out a cracked pair of spectacles. “Sorry. When we arrived… this was all we found.”

Lin Jie’s eyes flooded. Tears spilled over.

“Glasses! My Glasses!” His wail echoed across the entire airport.