Steam curled in dense, fragrant tendrils, filling the bathroom with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and cleansing herbs—a stark contrast to the sterile, energy-saturated atmosphere of the Gene Pool. Here, the act was mundane, human. Water, hot and relentless, streamed down Yao's body, tracing the subtle, newly reinforced contours of her muscles and the silvery, almost invisible lattice of power that now lay beneath her skin. Each droplet was a tiny percussion against her heightened senses. She ran her fingers through her wet hair, the dark strands like slick riverweed against her back, the soap suds blooming white and carrying away the metaphorical grime of the night. Her mind, however, was not so easily cleansed, adrift in a sea of calculations and lingering unease.
A shift in the air pressure was her only warning—a subtle tightening, a silence that fell between the drumbeat of water. It was not a sound, but a void where sound should have been. Her head snapped towards the door, her body moving with a fluid grace that was now instinct. The bath towel, plush and absorbent, was snatched from its heated rail in a single motion, wrapped around her just as the shadow manifested.
It didn't break through the door. It flowedthrough the ventilation grille, a sinuous, impossible shape of coalesced darkness and distorted air. The steam itself seemed to part for it, beading on a form that was barely tangible. The figure solidified just enough to grasp the very humidity of the room, the water vapor and latent steam twisting into a shimmering, half-transparent scythe of condensed wind. Without a word, a sound, or even a discernible face, it struck. The air hissed as the elemental blade swept towards her, aiming to cleave her in two with cold efficiency.
"Who?!" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the steam, but the only answer was the deadly arc of the attack.
In the tranquil, affluent neighborhood known as the Sage's District, the old house belonging to Qin Liechuan stood as a bastion of quiet authority. Ancient trees whispered secrets around it, their leaves rustling like turning pages. Inside, Qin Liechuan, his face still pale from internal injuries, was not resting. He was hunched over a glowing data-slate, its light etching deep lines of concentration onto his face. The information streaming across it was from the Red Lion Manor—forensic reports, energy residue analyses, the aftermath of a carefully laid trap.
"Sir, you should really be at the Ministry's infirmary. These injuries are not insignificant," a subordinate urged, his voice laced with concern.
"It's a shock, not a death sentence. The medics said it would heal slowly, but it's manageable," Qin Liechuan replied, his voice a low rumble. His mind, however, was elsewhere, recalling the face of the young woman in the snow—calm, assessing, her eyes missing nothing before she turned to secure the scene. Eighteen?The thought was a persistent itch.
The sentence had barely left his lips when the air in the room changed. The subtle hum of the property's advanced sensory wards shifted in pitch. Qin Liechuan and his guards exchanged a single, sharp glance. They moved as one, not towards the doors, but to the reinforced window of the study. Their gaze swept the serene, moonlit streets below, instantly locking onto a source of violent elemental disturbance two blocks over—a familiar residence.
Water, superheated to a scalding jet, erupted from the shattered wall of the bathroom, steaming in the cool night air. The guards, elite operatives all, were already in motion, their forms blurring as they summoned their own abilities. Wings of solidified light and force materialized on their backs as they dove from the balcony. They saw it then—a shadowy figure, dripping with condensation, flowing out of the breach with unnatural speed. Four beams of restraining energy and a volley of seeker projectiles lanced towards it. The figure shimmered, and the attacks passed through its afterimage as if through smoke.
Impossible agility!The lead guard's mind raced. Seventy-plus?
Before the thought could fully form, the shadow hit the ground and simply meltedinto the cobblestones, vanishing without a trace. Two guards immediately initiated earth-glide protocols, pursuing the subterranean trail. The others formed a defensive perimeter around the breached building. Qin Liechuan arrived on the balcony, his posture rigid, his senses extended. He did not enter, granting a modicum of privacy.
Inside, Yao, now clad in a simple, dry robe, stood amidst the wreckage. Her hair was damp, her expression not of fear, but of cold, analytical fury mixed with deep perplexity. The air around her crackled with suppressed energy.
Qin Liechuan, his back still turned, spoke into the night. "He wasn't here for you."
Yao's voice, though slightly husky, was steady. "It would seem not, Director Qin. The attack was a probe. A test."
He turned slowly, his eyes missing nothing—the precision of the entry, the lack of any sustained offensive inside the room. His gaze fell upon a small, metallic badge he wore on his lapel. It was humming softly, its intricate engravings glowing with a faint, internal light. It was a high-grade scanner, a tool of his office capable of piercing through most mundane and magical deception. He activated it fully.
A beam of pale light swept the area, and a holographic screen materialized from the badge. It displayed the fleeing shadow, layering it with analytical data. The image resolved into the face of the unkempt man from the supermarket.
"You remember him?" Qin Liechuan's voice was flat.
Yao stepped closer, the robe clinging to her frame. "The one from the supermarket. It seems his approach was more calculated than it appeared."
"Indeed. A man like that would not have the courage to approach you without significant backing." His implication was clear. She carried an aura that deterred the common and the foolish.
A second, deeper scan initiated. The hologram flickered, the man's features dissolving like a mask made of sand, peeling away to reveal the face beneath. It was young, strikingly handsome, with a noble bearing and sharp, intelligent eyes—a face that spoke of good breeding and power.
Qin Liechuan's eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly. "And this one? Do you know him?"
Yao's breath didn't hitch. Her pulse remained steady. She met the image's gaze with perfect, blank neutrality. "No. I don't. Someone of such… distinct appearance, I believe I would remember if we had met." A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. "I may seem reserved, Director, but I am not made of stone."
Qin Liechuan held her gaze for a long moment. She was like still water, revealing nothing of the depths below. "Then we will investigate thoroughly. Until this person's identity and motives are confirmed, you are in potential danger. Will you return to the Sage's Clinic? Or would you prefer a secure location under our protection?"
One of his guards, feeling a surge of protective gratitude towards the medic who had saved his superior, blurted out, "You could stay at the Director's residence! It's the most secure—"
Qin Liechuan's cold stare could have frozen lava. The guard snapped his mouth shut.
Yao pretended not to notice the exchange. "The Clinic will be sufficient, thank you." Her tone left no room for argument. As a party of powerful arcanists, their journey back to the grand, tree-like structure of the Sage's Clinic was swift, a blur of wind and light against the awakening city.
Once she was safely inside the staff dormitories, Qin Liechuan's demeanor shifted. "He's gone to ground. An assassin of this caliber, specializing in infiltration and agility… he's been watching her. But why?"
The team scoured the area with every tool at their disposal. By morning, a discovery was made in a narrow, grimy alley not far from the main thoroughfares. The air was thick with the smell of stale grease and damp stone. Qin Liechuan stood over a patch of disturbed earth, his team using elemental manipulation to gently part the soil. The body they uncovered was not a pretty sight—face smeared with dirt, skin mottled with lividity, a grimace of pain frozen on its features. The forensic scanner beeped softly.
"Cause of death: electrocution. Massive, sustained current. Time of death, approximately 1:00 AM."
Security footage from a nearby street showed only one familiar figure passing through the alley much earlier in the evening: Yao, returning home. The timeline was an unbreachable alibi. Furthermore, at the precise time of the murder, Qin Liechuan himself had been escorting her back to the Clinic after the attempted assault at her home.
"The deceased has been identified as Qin Minfeng. A recent examinee, just accepted into the Western Jin Academy." The reporting officer's voice was heavy with implication.
Qin Liechuan's mind raced. A student killed during the exam period was a sensitive matter, automatically invoking the jurisdiction of the Education Ministry and the involved academy. It was a political snare. "Transfer the body for a full autopsy. I want to know everything about him. And cross-reference his records with that 'Xie Qingyan' identity. They are connected. Through Oaks. And through her."
He looked towards the towering spires of the Sage's Clinic. He knew she had an external assignment today. After securing the necessary details, he initiated a communication.
The chime resonated in Yao's quiet room. She answered, her voice laced with a believable trace of sleepiness. "Director Qin?"
His question was a blade, sharp and direct. "Dr. Yao. Do you know someone named Oaks?"
There was a beat of perfect, static-filled silence. Then, a soft, confused murmur. "Who?"
The news of Qin Minfeng's death spread like a virus through the information networks of Beiluk City. To the remaining examinees like Pang Ci, it was a shocking but distant curiosity. Had Oaks finally tidied up that loose end? Yet, the timing was odd, the method unclear. In the gilded halls of the great families, the reaction was more nuanced—a ripple of annoyance, the closing of a potential, if minor, pawn in a larger game.
But in the true shadows, where the TK Consortium operated, the response was one of cold fury. A meeting was convened in a soundproofed room deep beneath the city.
"The 'Qin Minfeng' asset is terminated. The girl, Yao, is the common denominator. She is the key."
A second voice, distorted by technology, echoed the sentiment. "His intelligence, though partial, was instrumental in neutralizing Zhou Linlang's team. He claimed there was a greater secret on X5 Star, a power that both he and Oaks had accessed. Now he is dead, and his knowledge is lost. The one who killed him may now possess it. This 'Yao' must be acquired and assessed."
Unaware of the storm converging in her name, Yao was aboard a swift medical transport, heading towards a provincial crisis zone. The lead physician, a formidable woman in her forties named Dr. Ning, was briefing the team. The landscape outside shifted from urban sprawl to scarred, hilly terrain.
"The instance has overrun. A Blue-Grade dungeon, but it has mutated. The local forces were overwhelmed. Our priority is casualty evacuation and stabilization."
Yao listened, but a part of her mind was elsewhere, anticipating the inevitable knock on her door. The transport broke through the cloud layer, revealing the nightmare below. A shimmering energy dome—the dungeon's boundary—fizzled and died as they approached, but the horror it had contained was now laid bare. The village was a charnel house. Blue-skinned goblins, far stronger and more numerous than any Blue-Grade threat should allow, were still rampaging through the streets, feasting on the remains of the defenders and villagers alike. The stench of blood and ozone was overwhelming even from the air.
Dr. Ning did not hesitate. "I'll clear a landing zone. You, focus on triage and healing!" With that, the dignified woman summoned a pair of brilliant, light-forged wings and leaped from the transport. She fell like a avenging angel, her staff slamming into the earth and unleashing pillars of purifying light that vaporized a score of the creatures.
Yao moved second. She didn't jump; she steppedoff the ramp and let the wind catch her. But it was not a fall. It was a transformation. Her body seemed to dissolve into a storm of light and air, a cascading torrent of healing energy that rained down upon the entire battlefield. A thousand threads of brilliant, gold-tinged light sought out every spark of lingering life, from the dying soldier to the child trapped under rubble. It was a breathtaking, impossible display of scope and power, a symphony of light that made every other medic on the team stare in awe.
The surviving defenders and the reinforcements who had been waiting outside watched, stunned. "By the gods... a Light Physique? At her age? And that potency?"
Dr. Ning, amidst her own destructive work, glanced over, a rare smile touching her lips. "So that's why the old man agreed... and here I thought it was just for her face."
Yao, however, could feel the strain. Such an output was unsustainable. But to hold back now would mean death for those she couldn't reach. Making a decision, she waved a hand, and eight simple, carved wooden dolls flew from her pouch. They landed around the village square, absorbing ambient energy and channeling it back to her in a continuous, if inefficient, stream. It was a stopgap measure, one that cost a fortune in rare materials for a mediocre result, but it was enough for now.
The battle was brutal, but with the arrival of the main military force, the tide turned. As the last of the goblins were put down, a silence fell, broken only by the moans of the wounded and the crackle of dying fires. It was then that a figure, a boy of no more than twelve, missing an arm, his throat too damaged for speech, crawled from a pile of debris. He clutched at Yao's pristine white robes, leaving bloody smears, his one good hand desperately pulling her towards a collapsed house.
With a gentle touch of her light, she parted the wreckage. Beneath it were the skeletal remains of a family, picked clean. There was nothing to heal. No life to save. A profound, helpless silence settled over Yao. This was the silence after the storm, more deafening than any battle cry.
From the crowd, a calm voice cut through the tension. Wei Mingtang, her own armor stained with gore, gestured, and a subtle force knocked the grieving boy unconscious. "The pain would have killed his heart. Your light cannot mend that."
Before Yao could respond, a new ship, bearing the insignia of the Western Jin Academy's disciplinary branch, landed nearby. Officials in severe uniforms marched towards her.
"Yao? You are under suspicion of involvement in the murder of student Qin Minfeng. You will come with us for questioning."
Yao lowered her head. The consequences of Qin Minfeng's death had arrived, swift and merciless as a guillotine. What had that fool given them to make them so impatient?