The motorcycle tore a line through the night.
The engine's roar bounced back off the walls of the buildings on either side, layering over and over again in the narrow alley, becoming a sharp echo.
Su Yu's gaze was nailed to the phone's navigation; the red GPS dot was moving along the edge of the industrial district outside the East Third Ring, slowing down.
They were decelerating.
Almost there.
In his mind, Fenghuang's voice rose up from the depths of the Spiritual Link.
"Su Yu."
"Although your strength has improved a great deal now, you must remember—you are not a true Valkyrie."
"Without Honkai energy reinforcing you, a hot weapon striking a vital point is still fatal to you."
Su Yu downshifted the motorcycle, dropping its speed from one hundred twenty to eighty.
"I'd also advise you to wait for police support, but I understand your concerns."
She paused.
"For these gangsters to be able to abduct Murata Ryusuke in broad daylight, in front of everyone, means there's someone behind it pulling strings—and with no small amount of power. What will happen after Ryusuke is taken away is entirely an unknown. You don't have the luxury of waiting."
Su Yu twisted the Throttle with his right hand; the front wheel rolled over a chunk of gravel, and the body jolted slightly.
"I will take over part of your subconscious."
"In the coming battle, I'll do my best to warn you of your visual blind spots and guide the force paths of your muscles. Leave your back to me, Su Yu."
"This is also a good opportunity to test the results of your Tai Xu Sword Qi training over this period."
The wild wind raged outside the helmet.
But inside the helmet, the corner of Su Yu's mouth curled up—harder to keep down than an AK loaded full of bullets.
In that smile, the usual joking laziness had faded away, revealing a sharpness tempered through a thousand trials of death.
"Thanks, Squad Monitor."
He softly replied, deep in his mind.
Fenghuang didn't answer, only feeling Su Yu's emotions at this moment, and she gently sighed within her heart.
Heaven-Tier Combat Technique: Spirit Possession—that was what Su Yu called the state after she took over his body, wasn't it?
If the situation were truly critical, letting herself fight in his place could at least guarantee that Su Yu survived.
But that was the worst-case scenario.
Fenghuang hadn't told Su Yu that her power was already nearly spent, and in this world without Honkai energy, she couldn't get even the slightest replenishment.
A state like that probably couldn't be maintained more than a few times before she might fall into a deep slumber, or even—
She didn't let the thought continue.
Her own safety was not within Fenghuang's considerations.
It had been so before, and it remained so now.
An abandoned factory district.
The old industrial development zone outside Arc City's East Third Ring had been placed on the demolition list ten years ago, yet not a single steel bar had been touched to this day.
Rusted sheet-metal factory buildings stood lined up in a row in the night.
Most of the street lamps were broken; the few that remained gave off a dim yellow light that couldn't reach three meters.
Murata Ryusuke sat on an iron chair.
His wrists were bound behind the chair back with nylon zip ties, chafed into red marks.
The corner of his left eye was swollen, his suit collar torn open, his tie twisted off to one side.
His gold-rimmed glasses had fallen off at some point.
Without that lens to filter them, his eyes looked far sharper than before.
Directly across from him stood seven or eight people.
The one at the head was a bald man, a coiling tiger pattern tattooed on his neck, a cigarette pinched in his right hand, the ash not flicked off even as it dropped onto his steel-toed boots.
"Director Murata. Big Boss Murata."
He was the leader of this remnant of the Tiger Claw Gang—"Black Tiger."
"Normally on TV you look so prim and proper, so why are you silent like a dead dog now? Weren't you yelling loud enough back in the car?"
Ryusuke lowered his eyelids, his one remaining intact eye watching Black Tiger coldly, saying nothing.
"Gone mute?"
Black Tiger irritably scratched his scalp.
"Let me tell you—don't look at me with that garbage-watching gaze! You distinguished bigwigs, sitting in air-conditioned rooms laundering dirty money, normally treat us in the Tiger Claw Gang like a chamber pot. Once you're done, you find us foul and want to kick us under the bed? Dream on!"
Black Tiger paced anxiously where he stood, like a cornered beast driven to a dead end.
"Lately, that damned Operation Sheepdog—some white-haired madwoman who popped up out of nowhere, with an invisible hacker, swept our turf in the east and south of the city clean!"
"Even the cops' SWAT team trailed behind their asses to grab the easy pickings!"
Black Tiger grew more worked up as he spoke, the muzzle of his gun waving wildly through the air.
"I went begging for help from those big shots who used to take our benefits, and the result?"
"Every single one of them played dead, damn it! They said that white-haired vigilante had direct backing from the higher-ups in the police bureau—too much power, more than they could cover for!"
Ryusuke listened quietly, calmly extracting the core information—the Tiger Claw Gang had been driven to a dead end, and their protective umbrella had failed.
"Then why kidnap me?" Ryusuke finally spoke. "I don't meddle in your underworld affairs. Kidnapping me will only get you listed as Class A wanted criminals by the city bureau. You won't even make it out of Arc City tonight."
"Ha! That's not for the Big Boss to worry about." Black Tiger sneered coldly and sat back down on the tire. "Do you really think a bunch of crude men like us would dare to casually touch a great Buddha like you?"
Black Tiger lifted Ryusuke's chin with the barrel of his gun.
"Someone's paying—paying a hefty price. And that person promised: all we have to do is invite a great Buddha like you here. That's all."
"Then he'll use his private channels to arrange a cargo ship to ferry us brothers straight to Southeast Asia, and he'll wire enough into our overseas accounts to squander for the rest of our lives."
Black Tiger lowered his voice, his eyes flickering with a greedy, frenzied light.
"Big Boss, you're always so high and mighty, relying on the capital and tech patents in your hands to grind others under your heel—did it never occur to you that you might push someone too far?"
"That person said you stripped away everything from him, and now, he means to take it back with interest."
So that was it.
Ryusuke sneered coldly in his heart.
In that instant, all the chains of logic clicked perfectly shut.
This was a long-premeditated kidnapping.
That competitor he had kicked off the board with absolute technological barriers, the one who had even nearly faced bankruptcy liquidation, that fool who had always harbored resentment toward him—had actually played the most despicable, most insane gamble of all.
Using the cornered Tiger Claw Gang as a discarded pawn to do him in.
Truly a vicious, calculated scheme.
This band of desperados was naive, too.
Once the deed was done, how could he possibly let this group—who knew the inside story—leave Arc City alive?
This gang's ending had been sealed from the very moment they took on the job.
But he said nothing, only shut his mouth.
No shouting, no threats, no trotting out his titles and connections.
Because he understood better than anyone—in a situation like this, the more you bared your fangs and brandished your claws, the faster you died.
Black Tiger straightened up, flicked off his cigarette ash, and said a few words to the men beside him.
His subordinates scattered—some going to check the entrances and exits, some taking inventory of the weapons.
The only light in the factory was a single incandescent bulb overhead, swaying, its ring of light tracing an irregular circle on the floor.
Ryusuke's gaze swept aimlessly around, then suddenly fixed on one spot.
The factory's steel crossbeam stood about six meters above the ground, rust-eaten, a thick layer of dust settled on top.
On that crossbeam, there was a person.
To be precise, a black silhouette.
Crouched in the shadow of the crossbeam, fused into the surrounding darkness.
If Ryusuke hadn't happened to look up from below—his line of sight passing exactly through the edge of the bulb's ring of light—he never would have noticed there was a living thing up there.
That silhouette made a gesture at him.
Index finger raised before the lips.
Shh.
Ryusuke's pupils suddenly went wide.
He couldn't make out the face.
But that build, those shoulders, that familiar set of clothes.
—Su Yu?!
Ryusuke's back sprang up off the iron chair, then he forced himself to press it back down.
His heartbeat shot to one hundred forty within two seconds.
How could he be here?!
This was sheer recklessness!
Ryusuke's first reaction was anger.
A young man who makes games, charging into a gangster's den? Did he think this was some cops-and-robbers film?
But then, as if remembering something, he froze in place entirely.
From the front gate to here, one had to pass at least three hidden sentries.
Su Yu had come in without making a single sound, without alerting anyone.
Just like that, soundlessly appearing on the six-meter-high crossbeam.
Ryusuke had moved through academic and business circles for most of his life, and had crossed paths with people from certain special fields.
Someone who could do this to such a degree—
was either an ace of the special forces, or a fictional character out of a movie.
Just as Ryusuke tried to use reason to suppress this sense of absurdity, Black Tiger's earlier irate cursing rang again in his mind.
"Some white-haired madwoman who popped up out of nowhere... swept our turf in the east and south of the city clean!"
A white-haired woman?
He recalled that, before returning to the country, at a closed-door academic salon organized by a certain university, a colleague with a military background had let slip half a piece of gossip after one drink too many.
That ever-arrogant Dr. Mei had recently, through the official Special Talent Introduction channel, specially recruited an Ancient Martial Arts expert of mysterious identity.
According to the rumors, it was a girl with white hair and heterochromatic eyes.
She had inherited the teachings of some obscure, reclusive sect, brought down the mountain by an outer-sect senior brother.
That girl's skills, in the non-public test footage circulating within the police bureau, completely defied the principles of human biomechanics.
Ryusuke had once been fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of that blurry video, and his first reaction at the time had been that it absolutely had to be a CG demo cooked up by some special-effects company.
No human could possibly possess that level of explosive power and hang-time.
Ryusuke remembered Himeko's explanation—"a distant cousin from the countryside, staying over for a while."
He remembered the passing grade he had given Kiana at the time—"at least she's got some perceptiveness."
He suddenly felt his face sting, hot and burning.
Su Yu was soundlessly shifting from one crossbeam to another.
His movements weren't fast, but every step came down on the joints of the steel structure—the connection points that wouldn't make a sound.
His whole body glided through the layer of shadow the light couldn't reach, like a drop of ink dissolving into black water.
Ryusuke watched him pass the position of the first hidden sentry.
The sentry didn't even look up.
Because just as Su Yu passed, a gust of wind happened to pour in from that direction through the factory's broken window, and the sheet-metal wall let out a "creak."
The sentry turned his attention toward the window.
This was a good moment.
Su Yu was using the sound of the wind to mask his movement.
The sight made Ryusuke unconsciously hold his breath.
Su Yu crouched on the third crossbeam.
He closed his eyes.
Not out of tension.
Because there was no need to keep them open.
The Tai Xu Heart Essence Chapter that Fenghuang had passed down to him—the spiritual power tempered again and again by sword qi within his consciousness space—was at this moment spreading out from his body in every direction, like an invisible net.
No light needed.
No line of sight needed.
He could sense it all.
Twelve meters to the front-left, a man leaned against an iron pillar, breathing even, heartbeat steady—standing guard, attention drifting.
Eight meters to the front-right, two men sat side by side on a wooden crate. One was smoking, the heat of the smoke tracing a thin line through the air.
Twenty meters directly below: Ryusuke.
Heartbeat fast, but breathing deliberately controlled—forcing himself to stay calm.
Black Tiger was six meters directly in front of Ryusuke.
Each of the factory's three exits was watched by one man.
The one at the east exit was dozing, the one to the west was scrolling on his phone, and the one to the north was the most alert, holding something in his hand—a gun.
Su Yu counted them off silently.
Including Ryusuke, there were fourteen people in the factory.
At least three of them had guns.
"Sensed them?" Fenghuang's voice was calm.
"Mm."
"The one at the north exit is the most dangerous—what's in his hand is a .22 caliber. The other two with guns are to your front-right. Deal with the north one first, but don't take him head-on."
Su Yu nodded inwardly.
He didn't charge down.
Fenghuang was right.
His body was far stronger than before, but he wasn't Kiana.
One wrong move, one shot to a vital point, and he would die too.
He pressed the communicator in his ear, lowering the volume to the minimum.
"Bronie."
"Here."
"Can you jam their radio?"
"BOSS, you insult me."
The sound of keyboard clacks snapped twice through the communicator.
"Already taken over the frequency band. What do you want me to broadcast?"
"Make them think there are police to the east. Draw the men away."
"...Lure the tiger down from the mountain? Sure. Hang on."
Ten seconds later.
The walkie-talkies throughout the factory all crackled to life at once.
"—Everyone, attention! Police car lights spotted outside the east wall! Repeat, outside the east wall, spotted—"
Black Tiger shot to his feet.
The voice over the walkie-talkie had been meticulously processed; the frequency band, the background noise, the tone—all completely identical to the Tiger Claw Gang's own communications.
"Number Three, Number Four, take men to the east! Everyone else, hold your positions!"
At Black Tiger's command, half the men clattered off.
Bronie's voice came through again: "BOSS, by the way—Kiana's already on her way. If you really can't handle it, find a spot to hole up first and wait for the reinforcements."
Su Yu didn't reply.
Only two men were left guarding Ryusuke.
One leaned against the wall, yawning; the other crouched on the floor, toying with a switchblade.
He dropped soundlessly from the crossbeam and approached without a whisper of noise.
When Su Yu came up behind the first man, the man's yawn was only halfway through—at the very instant his mouth was stretched widest and his eyes were shut.
One hand clamped over his mouth.
The other gripped the back of his neck, pressing down precisely on a certain spot.
The man didn't even have time to struggle before his whole body went limp.
The second man heard the sound.
But he didn't even get the chance to raise his head before a blow landed on the back of his skull; his vision went black, and he toppled to the floor.
Ryusuke watched it all unfold before his eyes.
From Su Yu landing to dispatching both men, it took less than six seconds in total.
Clean movements, flowing like water.
If Ryusuke's state at this moment had to be summed up in a few words, it would probably be—his brain had crashed outright.
Su Yu crouched down, drew the switchblade from the man fallen on the floor, and cut the nylon zip tie binding Ryusuke's wrists.
Ryusuke flexed his numb fingers and looked up at Su Yu.
His expression was deeply complicated.
There was chagrin—from recalling the scene of his machine-gun-fire interrogation of Su Yu at the dinner table.
There was relief, and a touch of something that couldn't quite be named.
It was probably the taste of a man proud his entire life feeling, for the first time, that he had misjudged—and in front of a young man, no less.
"Thank you." Ryusuke's voice was a little dry. "And also, earlier at the restaurant—"
"Uncle, now isn't the time to hold a self-criticism meeting." Su Yu cut him off. "Save the reminiscing for somewhere safe. Let's go—we'll grab a car."
And yet, Ryusuke didn't move.
He looked at Su Yu and heaved a deep sigh.
In that gaze, there suddenly welled up a kind of resigned, tragic resolve.
He reached out and unbuttoned his own suit jacket.
Su Yu's eyes dropped to Ryusuke's waist.
A band of black wrapping was cinched tightly around it.
Embedded in the band were four matchbox-sized cubes, linked one to the next by thin red wires.
On the surface of each cube was a fingernail-sized green indicator light, blinking on and off.
It was a proximity bomb.
Ryusuke let his jacket fall back and looked at Su Yu.
"Little Su," his voice was very calm—but unnaturally so, "you should go."
Su Yu didn't move.
"Those people never intended to let me go. This thing will detonate the moment it leaves the set range," Ryusuke said. "Staying here will only cost one more life."
His gold-rimmed glasses were gone.
Without that exquisite barrier, his eyes looked more than ever like those of an ordinary, aging father.
"While they haven't come back, hurry and get out."
"I only hope that, once you're back—you'll treat my daughter well."
"To entrust her to a young man as brave and resourceful as you—I could die without regret."
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