Tòumíng scrambled up the side of the shelving unit, his fingers finding purchase on the metal grating, his feet slipping on the blood-slicked rungs. He pulled himself onto the conveyor belt system that ran along the ceiling, a network of moving platforms designed to transport boxes from one end of the warehouse to the other. The belts were still running, the rubber surface vibrating beneath his feet, carrying empty boxes and stray packaging materials toward the loading dock.
He crouched low, his eyes scanning the warehouse floor below. What he saw made his stomach turn.
The robbers were dead. All of them. Every single one that he hadn't already knocked out with his headbutts. There were bodies everywhere—sprawled across the concrete, slumped against shelving units, tangled in the wreckage of knocked-over boxes. Blood pooled beneath them, thick and dark, spreading across the floor in wide, sticky puddles. Some of the bodies were intact, just still and silent. Others were... less intact.
One man lay with his throat torn open, the wound so deep that his head was barely attached to his shoulders. Another had a hole in his chest, a gaping cavity where his heart used to be. A third was missing an eye. The smell was overwhelming—copper and iron and the sickly sweet scent of ruptured organs.
Lù Jī stood in the center of it all, her frilly white dress now splattered with crimson, her long black hair matted with blood and bits of tissue. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling, her eyes unfocused and glassy. She looked like a porcelain doll that had been dipped in a bucket of red paint.
Cupid's voice cut through Tòumíng's thoughts, urgent and sharp. "She's in full frenzy mode. You need to shut off your brain so I can take control of your body. I can move faster than you, react quicker. It's the only way you're getting out of this alive."
Tòumíng's jaw tightened. "Fuck no."
"Tòumíng, I'm serious. She just killed twelve armed men in under sixty seconds. You're not going to be able to—"
"I said FUCK no." Tòumíng's voice was flat, unyielding. "I'm not letting you puppet me around like a doll. I can handle this."
"Your funeral."
Tòumíng ignored him and continued moving along the conveyor belts, his footsteps silent on the vibrating rubber. He stayed low, keeping to the shadows, using the boxes and machinery as cover. From this angle, he could see that Lù Jī's perception was hindered. She wasn't scanning the warehouse like a trained fighter would. She was just... standing there, swaying slightly, her eyes unfocused and distant.
He could immobilize her. Get close, take out her legs, knock her unconscious before she even knew he was there. It was risky, but it was possible.
He pulled out his brick phone and dialed Ghost Claw. She picked up on the second ring.
"What happened?"
Tòumíng kept his voice low, his eyes locked on Lù Jī's swaying form. "So, the Ice Queen told me to bring Lù Jī along for protection. And I was like, sure, whatever, she's a tiny dainty girl, how dangerous could she be?"
Ghost Claw's voice was sharp, cutting through his rambling. "Who the hell is Lù Jī?"
"Long story. Basically, she's this frilly little girl who goes full psycho when she sees blood. And right now, we're being held hostage by a bunch of armed robbers, and she killed like all of them. Like, all of them. And now she's just standing there in a frenzy and I need to knock her the fuck out before she turns on the hostages."
Ghost Claw was silent for a moment. Then: "Eric should be there in about eight minutes. He has a taser in the truck. That should be enough to—"
Tòumíng shook his head, even though she couldn't see it. "I don't think a taser is gonna cut it. She just caved a guy's skull in with her heel. I don't think a little zap is gonna stop her."
"Just hold on. Eric is on his way." (Eric Mvp?)
The line went dead. Tòumíng pocketed the phone and turned his attention back to the warehouse floor. His eyes landed on the hostages, the twenty or so people huddled in the center of the room, their hands bound, their faces pale with terror. And among them, the businessman.
He was crying. Sobbing, really, his shoulders shaking, his voice carrying across the warehouse in a high-pitched wail. "Please, someone help me! I'll pay anything! ANYTHING!"
Lù Jī's head snapped toward him. Her eyes, still unfocused, still glassy, locked onto the source of the noise. She raised her leg, her heel poised, ready to deliver a brutal axe kick that would split his head open like she'd done to the others.
Tòumíng moved.
He sprinted along the conveyor belt, his feet pounding against the rubber, his heart hammering in his chest. He reached the end of the belt and launched himself into the air, his body arcing across the warehouse, his legs tucked, his arms spread for balance.
He crashed into Lù Jī like a meteor.
The impact was massive. His shoulder caught her in the ribs, his momentum carrying them both sideways, sending her flying across the warehouse floor. She skidded across the concrete, her frilly dress tearing, her body leaving a smear of blood and grime in its wake.
Tòumíng landed in a crouch, his knees absorbing the impact, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He stood up slowly, a grin spreading across his face.
"SWEET," he yelled, pumping his fist in the air.
Lù Jī was already getting up. She rose to her feet with an eerie, unnatural grace, her head tilting, her eyes locking onto Tòumíng with a predatory focus. She moved, fast, too fast, her leg shooting forward in a brutal jab aimed directly at his chest.
Tòumíng barely dodged. The heel of her shoe whistled past his ribs, close enough to tear through his shirt, close enough to leave a shallow cut across his skin. He stumbled backward, his eyes wide, his confidence evaporating in an instant.
He turned and ran, his legs pumping, his arms flailing, his voice rising to a panicked scream.
"NOT SWEET! NOOOOOT SWEEEEET!"