This long-awaited heart-to-heart talk with Yu Tang filled me with immense comfort, and I secretly vowed to completely resolve the Xu Pengxuan affair, ensuring Yu Tang was free from his threat.
Thus, a bittersweet feeling, like first love, filled me with a bittersweet mix of pain and pleasure… and our hands, forgetting to separate, remained tightly intertwined.
…
Shanghai during the day was still bustling and lively, but there were always some dark corners.
In a narrow alley, the road surface was dilapidated, riddled with potholes and covered in damp moss. A broken water pipe dripped constantly, a cockroach peeked out from a sewer opening, and a faint, lingering stench of decay permeated the air…
And in this environment, several disheveled, sweating men sat against the wall, one of them still wearing a tattered suit, a middle-aged man who vaguely resembled an office worker.
Dark, damp, and dangerous—these were the main labels people associated with this place. But suddenly, a crisp "tap, tap" of footsteps rang out. The homeless men looked up, slightly puzzled, in the direction of the sound.
Leaving aside why an office lady would be here, the sound was a little off. It was crisper than the sound of high heels falling, like… yes, wooden shoes.
Before the homeless men could even figure out why someone would be wearing wooden shoes, the answer was already clear before their eyes…
A pair of delicate, snow-white feet, clad in black wooden clogs, came into view. Next, a slender, snow-white calf followed, then a magnificent silk kimono with cherry blossom patterns. A waterfall of jet-black hair cascaded from her elegant bun. Her bright, captivating eyes and delicate features—cherry lips, a delicate nose, and other exquisite features—combined into a face that, though unadorned, was as pure as snow, breathtakingly beautiful.
"A Shikijima person?"
One of the disheveled homeless men, almost like a zombie, shuffled to his feet against the wall and staggered towards this Shikijima beauty who shouldn't be there. The homeless man, who looked somewhat like an office worker, instinctively reached out, opening his mouth to speak, but upon seeing the scene, he immediately fell silent.
This man was clearly intoxicated by MA, his mind consumed by violence and lust, like a walking corpse, capable of murder at the slightest provocation; moreover, a switchblade was visible in his hand behind him, making the middle-aged man even more afraid to utter a sound.
He slumped back into the corner… soon, a woman's scream would rang out, he thought.
"Ahhh…!"
A horrifying scream did indeed erupt, but it wasn't the expected woman's shrill cry; instead, it was the tearing, pig-like scream of a man. The middle-aged man's eyes widened as he saw the homeless man lying on the ground, convulsing, one hand clutching the other, which was clearly bent at an unbelievable angle.
A small, deflected knife rolled to the side of a beautiful, snow-white foot, gently pulled by wooden clogs, and slid down the moss-covered drain…
The beautiful woman from Shikishima gracefully passed by, a fragrant breeze wafting through the air. The middle-aged man saw something gleaming silver emerge from her sleeve, striking the ground with a "thud," not even bouncing. For its size, it was quite heavy.
He carefully picked it up, then froze… It was a silver ingot!
With its value, he wouldn't be homeless for at least a few months. The middle-aged man was about to thank the beautiful woman from Shikishima when he looked again and froze, because—there was nothing there.
Even a tall, burly homeless man, huddled in a corner dripping with sewage, seemed like a dream. For a moment, he thought it was an illusion, but the heavy weight of the silver ingot in his hand and the groaning, agonizing figure beside him, rolling around like a shrimp, reminded him.
This was not a dream…
On the rooftop of a nearby building, where the cherry blossoms had not yet faded, two people stood.
A tall man, covered in long, brown hair, resembling a wild man from the deep mountains, sat listlessly on the edge of the building, letting the wind tousle his fur.
Beside her stood a beautiful woman dressed in a magnificent kimono, or more accurately, the attire of a courtesan, her fair, jade-like shoulders exposed…
"Yoshihara Tsubaki-hime, what brings you here?"
Both faced the wind, their gazes not meeting. After a long pause, the man beneath the fur spoke first, his voice low and hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.
"How did you survive four years ago?" The woman's soft voice drifted through the air.
The furry man, or rather, the Korean man who once called himself the city's guardian, Choi Won-hyun, stirred, more like a curled-up grizzly bear.
"He let me go."
"So you're going to protect his disciple?" Before Cui Yuanxuan could answer, the beauty continued, "You should know how difficult it is to protect people and things related to 'Star'..."
The Martial God "Star" is, besides the mysterious martial artist who destroyed the aircraft carrier, the only being considered a perfect strategic-level being. No one doesn't want to know his secret, because everyone believes that the perfect strategic-level is an indispensable key to the forbidden level!
The so-called perfect strategic-level refers to a strategic-level being without any flaws. There are four types of extraordinary individuals:
True Qi type, Telekinesis type, Enhancement type, and Transformation type.
Adding to this are some powers that already exist in the world and can surpass ordinary people, such as internal martial arts, strange Taoist arts, witchcraft, etc. Although not explicitly categorized, these alternative extraordinary individuals are still collectively referred to as "Old Types."
In total, there are five types of superhumans. Even the pinnacle of "strategic-level" superhumans in each type has its own insurmountable weaknesses, meaning they are mutually restraining.
For example, those with telekinesis, especially those with special telekinetic abilities like soul manipulation, barriers, and nightmares, are generally very fragile. If captured by another superhuman, even a mere danger-level being could kill a strategic-level being.
After all, the definition of strategic-level is someone capable of posing a regional threat. Other factors are not considered. If a chicken possessed powerful superpowers, it would also be classified as strategic-level.
Or, in other words, strategic-level items.
Some even say that absolute memory, currently classified as microscopic, should, to some extent, be classified as strategic-level. Its effectiveness varies drastically depending on the person using it. In the hands of an ordinary person, it's merely a gimmick for television, but in the hands of a brilliant researcher, it possesses strategic-level influence!
A Perfect Strategic-level being means that no superhuman from any other faction can counter it. In other words, a Perfect Strategic-level being possesses absolute suppressive power over every Strategic-level being from any faction. The destructive power and impact of a Perfect Strategic-level being might not be much stronger than that of a Flawed Strategic-level being.
However, in the face of these Flawed Strategic-level beings, a Perfect Strategic-level being seems to have the power to decide their fate, a being akin to a "god"!