Five girls sat around a round table, five cups of steaming hot tea resting on its surface.
"So, your group is more like a private club than an actual club," Lin Mi said, a dark line of exasperation on her face. The once aloof blonde seemed to be drifting further into the role of the complainer. "First, a three-person club wouldn’t even have a clubroom. Even if it did, it wouldn’t be an entire building. And you don’t have a faculty advisor."
Zhang Meng raised her hand weakly. "The principal is our advisor."
"Honestly, this feels more like a girls’ dorm," Cold Night Feather shrugged. "I saw plenty of rooms upstairs."
"Ah, true. I live here most of the time," Bai Xin replied. "Zhang Meng and I are orphans. We don’t want to go home. Being alone there is too lonely."
Shuo Ye took a delicate sip of tea, her refined face utterly expressionless. "Now, this is my home."
Cold Night Feather frowned. What was this? A secret hideout for kids?
"I’ve got an idea!" Bai Xin exclaimed, shooting her hand up excitedly. "Let’s start an agency! One that handles the Inner World—ow! Night Feather, why’d you hit me?"
Cold Night Feather had smacked Bai Xin’s head the moment she slipped up. The Inner World wasn’t a secret to the higher-ups, but to ordinary kids, it was pure myth.
To Cold Night Feather’s surprise, neither Lin Mi nor Shuo Ye flinched at the mention. Only Zhang Meng looked utterly confused, as if about to ask what the Inner World was.
"I agree," Shuo Ye set down her teacup, her clear, calm eyes locking onto Cold Night Feather. "I have little else to do anyway. Besides, with your potential, you’ll likely transfer to Dawn Harbor’s top academy next year. Training here won’t help you at all. We might as well do something meaningful before summer ends."
Lin Mi shrugged, indifferent.
Cold Night Feather felt foolish. Lin Mi was the daughter of the Execution Department’s deputy director—her father’s daily work involved the Inner World, so she’d naturally know about it. As for Shuo Ye, she came from a powerful family. Judging by her aura, it wasn’t some minor clan. She’d know too.
"Um, what’s the Inner World?" Zhang Meng raised her small hand timidly.
The other four, deep in discussion about the agency, seemed to ignore her completely.
"The sealed entities in this city are slowly awakening," Cold Night Feather said. "We’ll have plenty of fun. Go wild—I’ll clean up your messes. Don’t fear the old timers behind the scenes; I’ve been itching for a fight. Those small fries aren’t worth my time!"
Shuo Ye smiled, meeting Cold Night Feather’s faintly glowing crimson eyes. "I’ve wanted to stir up trouble with the city’s hidden things. Your words put my mind at ease."
The gazes of the two deadly figures clashed mid-air. Since Cold Night Feather entered, Shuo Ye had sensed her bottomless strength. Cold Night Feather had noticed Shuo Ye’s unusual aura too. Now, they’d use each other—Shuo Ye and the others would hunt the hidden rats in the city, while Cold Night Feather faced the elders behind the curtain. Perfect.
Lin Mi and Bai Xin’s agreement hardly mattered. Their fates rested in Cold Night Feather’s hands anyway.
"Then, Shuo Ye, Bai Xin, and Lin Mi will be field agents. I’ll handle the aftermath. Done," Cold Night Feather and Shuo Ye quickly divided the roles.
Zhang Meng felt ignored. She jumped onto the bench, now a head taller than Cold Night Feather. "Hey! What about me? What’s my job?"
Cold Night Feather sized her up. "You? You’ll be the mascot."
"Huh?" Before Zhang Meng could protest, Bai Xin pulled her down. Shuo Ye was a germaphobe—another second on the chair, and Zhang Meng might get spanked.
"Then, you’re the new club president," Shuo Ye announced with a smile, completely ignoring the original president, Bai Xin.
Cold Night Feather saw the logic. The trio looked like runaway kids. Guests would be scared off. They needed someone with presence. Cold Night Feather, a cold, stunning beauty who drew attention anywhere, was perfect.
Though she considered herself a heartless killer.
"I’ll handle the agency’s legitimacy and website," Shuo Ye’s eyes gleamed. "Look forward to it."
Cold Night Feather stood. "Our first client’s already here. Bai Xin and I caught a lead. I’ll brief you when I return. Now, I’m taking Lin Mi from her father’s house. I’ll also arrange weapons, permits, and gear. Bai Xin, coming?"
Bai Xin thought it over. Shuo Ye had moved to a computer. Zhang Meng was watching cartoons. With nothing to do, she scratched her head. "Eh, I’ll stay and play on the computer."
And so, in this childish negotiation, the agency was born—though they hadn’t even named it yet.
"How do we get to my place?" At the school gate, Lin Mi hugged herself, shivering in the wind. She wore only a short-sleeved shirt—it was summer. But White Feather’s tornado still lingered. Days were fine, but after sunset, the cold wind made the day-night temperature swing like a desert’s. Well, not that extreme.
Cold Night Feather didn’t answer.
"So what are we waiting for?" Lin Mi asked after a long while.
They’d stood there nearly an hour. Buses and taxis passed, but Cold Night Feather never flagged one down.
"Patience. You’ll see soon. Is your father home?"
"Yeah. He’s resting these days—apparently injured."
"Oh? Our ride’s here." Cold Night Feather raised an eyebrow, gazing at the horizon.
An engine’s roar grew clear in the distance—a supercar. Lin Mi looked toward the sound. A fiery red shadow sped toward them like a racing flame.
The "flame" moved fast. Almost as soon as Lin Mi spotted it, it began slowing down. The crimson supercar skidded to a perfect stop before them, tires screeching against the pavement.
An energetic black-haired man stepped out. He tossed Cold Night Feather the keys—golden bull emblem matching the car’s hood. "Here. A Lamborghini Aventador. Originally General Lei’s ride. He sent it when he heard you needed a car. The Execution Department’s mad scientists modified it—special armor plating can take a few missile hits. Engine’s tuned for 400 kph top speed."
It was Wang Jun, fully recovered. He popped the trunk, pulling out a large black briefcase. He opened it before Cold Night Feather.
Inside lay various documents. Wang Jun explained, "When you suddenly decided on an agency, the old folks held an emergency meeting. You’re now a semi-official group. Official designation: Inner World Special Response Unit. How’s that sound?"
He watched Cold Night Feather’s expression carefully, afraid to upset her.
She had no objections. Official backing made things easier on foreign turf.
Wang Jun sighed in relief. "They issued you a special permit—valid only for supernatural agencies. Avoid regular law enforcement. This case holds all the paperwork. We’re practically colleagues now. The military might send occasional missions; you can accept or refuse. Oh, and your driver’s license, ID, and household register. You’re listed as Bai Xin’s older sister—name Bai Ye."
Cold Night Feather took the documents. Her photo on all three showed a cold, aloof face gazing down imperiously.
"One thing," Wang Jun remembered suddenly. "Do you have supercars in your world?" He gestured at the Lamborghini.
Cold Night Feather shook her head. "We rely on mounts or our own power. No such... miraculous hunks of metal."
Sweat dripped from Wang Jun’s forehead. His voice trembled. "So you’re clueless about driving... yet you asked for a supercar?"
Cold Night Feather nodded. "I studied online—the controls, the functions, how to drive!"
Wang Jun fell silent. Then he pulled a compact foldable bicycle from the trunk. "Good luck. Drive slowly. I don’t want a midnight call about a Lamborghini causing mass casualties."
Before leaving, Wang Jun shot Cold Night Feather’s companion a look—somewhere between pity and farewell. As if saying goodbye to the pretty girl forever.
Hearing Cold Night Feather would drive a supercar on her first try, having learned only online, Lin Mi shuddered. She tugged Cold Night Feather’s sleeve, whispering,
"How about a taxi? Or... not going at all?"
Cold Night Feather’s eye twitched. She grabbed Lin Mi and tossed her into the car, then slid into the driver’s seat with a cold face.
