Luo Yang’s missions went much smoother than expected.
The first was an extermination.
A nest of mutated rats had holed up in an abandoned industrial zone in the northern suburbs of Yuanxing City. There were about a dozen of them, all Level 2. They bred quickly and had already gnawed through the steel beams of two factory buildings.
The local defense forces had the perimeter sealed tight. When Luo Yang arrived, the company commander in charge was crouching by an armored vehicle, smoking. Seeing him step out of a taxi alone, the commander nearly burned his hand with his cigarette butt.
“Just you, sir?”
Luo Yang didn’t answer. Three Grantee Longswords slid out of his space ring, their silver-white blades glinting in the setting sun like three live fish released into water as they broke through the factory’s shattered skylight.
The commander only heard the muffled thuds of blades slicing into living flesh from within.
In less than two minutes, over a dozen Level 2 cores were lined up neatly on the rubble, the cuts on them incredibly clean.
Luo Yang pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket and wiped the dust from his fingers.
“Please sign here.”
The second mission was an escort.
A shipment of military supplies being transferred from Qiongzhou City needed to pass through Yuanxing City on its way to the border front. The higher-ups were worried about mutant beast harassment along the route and requested the Ability Bureau send someone to accompany the convoy to the city limits.
Luo Yang sat in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle. The convoy drove along the national highway for over four hours without seeing so much as a shadow of a mutant beast.
The escorting officer laughed, saying it was a wasted trip. Luo Yang, however, said it was great—earning a three-thousand-yuan subsidy for doing nothing. He wished he had jobs like this every day.
It was already past six when he returned home.
When he pushed the door open, the television was on, playing an isekai anime he hadn’t seen before.
Yan Zhi was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, clutching an open bag of potato chips with two empty cola cans scattered beside her.
Hearing the door, she turned her head. Her pitch-black eyes stared straight at him, like a cat that had waited for its owner so long it was about to grow mushrooms.
“You’re back.”
Her voice was light, but Luo Yang somehow detected a hint of grievance in it.
“Yeah, I’m back.”
“You said you’d be back by four or five.”
“...The mission went over time.”
Yan Zhi slid off the sofa, walked up to him, and looked up.
Luo Yang suddenly had an illusion. After staying with him for a few days, this girl seemed to have actually 'come alive' a little bit.
Not in a physiological sense, but something more subtle—for instance, she was now capable of feeling bored while waiting.
“I want to go out to eat.”
“There are dumplings in the fridge.”
“I’ve eaten them for three days.”
Luo Yang opened his mouth to argue, but meeting those black eyes, he swallowed his words. He gave a resigned sigh.
“Fine. Go change your shoes.”
Yuanxing City’s most famous food street was hidden in the old town.
The entire street was only three or four hundred meters long, yet it was packed with over a hundred eateries. The smoke from the grills mixed with the aroma of spicy hotpot could be smelled from half a block away.
Luo Yang walked in front while Yan Zhi followed half a step behind, one hand tugging at the hem of his jacket and the other pointing at roadside snack stalls, wanting this and that.
Luo Yang glanced at the balance on his phone and wept silently in his heart, though his face remained perfectly calm.
“Luo Yang?”
A voice came from the side, neither loud nor soft.
Chu Zimo was standing in front of a milk tea shop, holding a freshly made lemon milk tea.
He was wearing a black short-sleeved shirt. He was tall and lean with sharp, well-defined features. Even standing under the warm yellow streetlights, he seemed to carry a cold-toned filter around him.
It was as if no matter where he stood, he looked like a blade that had yet to be unsheathed.
Luo Yang nodded. “What a coincidence.”
Chu Zimo’s gaze slid from him to the person behind him, landing on the hand clutching the jacket hem before moving to Yan Zhi’s face.
“And this is?”
Yan Zhi poked half her head out from behind Luo Yang, sizing up the strange young man in front of her.
She didn’t speak, only tightened her grip on Luo Yang’s jacket.
“My sister.” Luo Yang reached back and rubbed Yan Zhi’s head, the movement as natural as if he had done it a hundred times. “Luo Zhi. You can just call her A-Zhi.”
Yan Zhi blinked and nodded obediently. The coordination was seamless.
Luo Yang gave her a mental thumbs-up.
This thousand-year-old walking corpse’s acting skills were far better than those of popular idols.
Chu Zimo gave a slight nod.
“Have you eaten? If not, want to grab a bite together?” Luo Yang offered casually.
Chu Zimo was silent for a moment, as if making a major decision, then he nodded.
The hotpot restaurant was steaming. The red oil broth bubbled away, the scent of chili and Sichuan peppercorns mixing together, making Yan Zhi sneeze three times in a row.
But her eyes were terrifyingly bright, and her hand holding the chopsticks was trembling.
It was an instinctive craving for an unknown delicacy, the exact same expression she’d had the first time she drank cola.
Luo Yang put a plate of fatty beef into the pot and asked seemingly at random, “I heard you guys formed a team?”
Chu Zimo picked up his tea cup and took a sip of barley tea.
“Qiu Shubai, Tang Xuan, Li Qiang, and me. Principal Zhang decided it personally.”
“What’s the setup?”
“Qiu Shubai is the main attacker, Tang Xuan is heavy firepower, I’m the assassin, and Li Qiang is support.”
Chu Zimo’s voice was flat, like he was reading a report that had nothing to do with him. “A pure offense lineup. No defensive position.”
Luo Yang placed some cooked beef into Yan Zhi’s bowl and tossed a plate of tripe into the pot.
The red oil churned. The tripe curled in the boiling soup, and he fished it out with rhythmic precision. His movements were as smooth as flowing water.
“Only that old geezer Zhang Xian would put together such a reckless team.” He paused, his lips curling slightly. “But it suits you guys.”
Chu Zimo didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on Luo Yang’s face for a moment, as if observing or confirming something.
“I heard that you’ve always been at the very bottom of the Academy’s Ladder Rankings.”
Luo Yang’s chopsticks paused.
“Some say you’re a score-controller.” Chu Zimo’s voice remained calm, but there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes. “I want to know if that rumor is true.”
Luo Yang thought about it, fished a piece of tripe out of the red oil, and set it in his bowl to cool.
“In a way,” he said. “Half of it is because I’m short on money. My ability burns through equipment like it’s burning paper. In a place like the Ladder Rankings, the equipment wear and tear from a single match is enough to make me eat instant noodles for half a month. I’m not going to bankrupt myself for a ranking.”
“And the other half?”
“The other half?”
Luo Yang chuckled, a laugh that carried a sense of either self-deprecation or a successful prank.
“I do have a bit of a wicked sense of humor. Being exactly one point behind the second-to-last person and watching those ahead of me scramble to climb higher is quite entertaining.”
Chu Zimo was silent for a few seconds, then the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. That was likely the widest smile he was capable of.
The red oil in the pot continued to bubble. Yan Zhi was clumsily wrestling with a juicy beef ball with her chopsticks; the ball rolled around the bowl, refusing to be caught.
Luo Yang was about to help her when the phone in his pocket vibrated.
He pulled it out and saw three words on the caller ID: Old Director.
Luo Yang answered. The voice on the other end was aged and urgent, sounding as if someone were squeezing the speaker's throat.
“Luo Yang, Southern New City. Large-scale mutant beast invasion. At least a dozen Level 3s, and countless Level 2s and 1s. The Ability Bureau’s nearest units are already engaging, but they won’t hold for long. Reinforcements are on the way, but we... we need your help.”
Luo Yang set down his chopsticks.
“The area around the Yujing Garden complex has the highest population density. People there are being evacuated, but the beasts are advancing too fast. I need you to get there immediately and hold them off as long as possible.”
“...Tell them to bring plenty of supplies.”
Luo Yang hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.
Opposite him, Chu Zimo had stood up at some point. His face turned pale in an instant, a translucent white as if his blood had been suddenly drained.
“Yujing Garden?”
His voice was trembling despite his desperate attempts to suppress it.
“My parents live in Yujing Garden.”
Luo Yang looked at him. The steam from the hotpot rose between them. Yan Zhi was still holding up the beef ball she finally managed to catch, her pitch-black eyes reflecting the suddenly tense profiles of the two men.
Luo Yang pulled several bills from his wallet and slapped them on the table, grabbing Yan Zhi by the wrist.
“Let’s go.”
Chu Zimo had already sprinted out of the restaurant.
Rate on N.U.
