Tòumíng's hands caught the edge of the conveyor belt, his arms screaming with the effort as he swung his body upward, his legs kicking uselessly for a moment before finding purchase. He pulled himself onto the moving platform, his chest heaving, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. The rubber surface vibrated beneath him, carrying empty boxes toward the loading dock, the rhythmic hum of the machinery almost soothing compared to the chaos below.
He scrambled to his feet, his eyes locking onto Lù Jī's small, blood-soaked form below. She was still standing in the middle of the warehouse, her head tilted, her glassy eyes scanning the space like a predator searching for prey. Tòumíng was above her now, on the high ground, a solid ten feet of vertical advantage.
This was it. This was the moment. He cleared his throat, his chest puffing out, his voice carrying across the warehouse with all the confidence he could muster.
"It's over, Slaughter Princess," he announced, spreading his arms wide in a theatrical gesture. "I have the high gro—"
She moved.
Tòumíng didn't even see it happen. One moment she was standing on the warehouse floor, her frilly dress swaying gently, her head tilted at that creepy angle. The next moment she was a blur of white and red, launching herself upward with impossible speed, her body slamming into the conveyor belt from below.
Metal screamed. Sparks flew. The conveyor belt buckled, the rubber surface tearing, the steel framework groaning under the impact. Lù Jī burst through the other side like a missile, her body punching through solid metal as if it were paper, shards of steel and rubber flying in every direction.
Tòumíng's eyes went wide. His jaw dropped. His brain short-circuited.
"THROUGH METAL?! SHE KICKED THROUGH FUCKING METAL?!"
He scrambled backward, his heels slipping on the torn conveyor belt, his arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance. Lù Jī was on the belt now, crouched low, her head swiveling toward him with that same predatory focus. The frilly white dress was shredded, hanging in tatters, revealing the pale skin beneath, the muscles in her legs tensed and ready.
The earpiece crackled to life, the voice on the other end tinny and urgent. "Tòumíng? Are you there? Are you on your way back? What's happening?"
Tòumíng didn't take his eyes off Lù Jī. "WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THIS WOMAN?! SHE JUST KICKED THROUGH METAL! SOLID METAL! LIKE IT WAS NOTHING!"
The voice on the earpiece paused, then launched into a rapid-fire explanation. "SMS increases noradrenaline throughout the body, essentially flooding the nervous system with an emergency neurotransmitter that enhances muscle recruitment and pain suppression. The subject becomes capable of exerting force far beyond normal human limits. Tendons and ligaments are reinforced by the heightened adrenaline response, allowing the subject to perform borderline superhuman feats of strength, speed, and durability. It's essentially a biological override—the body discards all safety mechanisms and operates at maximum capacity. The downside is that the state is temporary and causes severe physical damage, but in the moment of the frenzy, the subject is effectively—"
"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE FUNCTIONS!" Tòumíng screamed, dodging to the side as Lù Jī's leg shot forward, the blade on her heel carving a trench in the conveyor belt where he'd been standing. "I ASKED A RHETORICAL QUESTION!"
The belt beneath him groaned, the torn rubber splitting further, the metal framework sagging under the weight of two people fighting on its unstable surface. Tòumíng jumped, his hands grabbing the edge of the next conveyor belt in the system—the one above him, maybe eight feet higher. He pulled himself up, his arms burning, his lungs screaming, and hauled himself onto the new platform.
Lù Jī followed.
She didn't climb. She didn't use the framework or the supports or any of the normal ways a human being would ascend. She just jumped, her legs propelling her upward like springs, her body arcing through the air with terrifying grace. She landed on the conveyor belt behind him, her heels thudding against the rubber, her balance perfect.
"FUCK!"
Tòumíng ran. He sprinted along the conveyor belt, leaping over boxes, dodging stray packaging materials, his feet pounding against the moving surface. Behind him, he could hear Lù Jī's footsteps, steady and relentless, gaining ground with every second.
He jumped again, this time to a third conveyor belt, this one lower, maybe six feet down. He landed hard, his knees absorbing the impact, his body rolling to absorb the momentum. He scrambled to his feet and kept running.
Lù Jī was right behind him. She didn't jump—she just dropped, her body falling through the air like a stone, landing in a low crouch that barely seemed to jar her. She was up in an instant, her legs pumping, her pursuit unrelenting.
"WHY WON'T YOU STOP?!" Tòumíng yelled, his voice cracking with desperation. "I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING TO YOU! I'M JUST TRYING TO SURVIVE HERE!"
She didn't answer. She didn't even seem to hear him. She just kept coming, her eyes locked on his back, her legs propelling her forward with inhuman speed.
Tòumíng reached the end of the conveyor belt and jumped again, this time to the next one, this time lower, this time closer to the warehouse floor. He landed on his feet, stumbled, caught himself, and kept running. He was leading her in a loop now, circling the warehouse, using the conveyor belts as a makeshift obstacle course.
It wasn't working. She was too fast, too relentless. Every time he thought he'd gained some distance, she closed the gap with a single, explosive burst of speed. Every time he tried to lose her in the maze of shelving units and machinery, she found him, her glassy eyes locking onto his position with unerring accuracy.
He needed to exhaust her. That was the only plan. She was burning through energy like a runaway train, and eventually she'd have to slow down. Eventually her body would give out. Eventually the frenzy would end.
But right now, that didn't seem likely.
She kicked at him again, her leg shooting forward, her heel grazing his shoulder. The blade caught the fabric of his shirt, tearing it, leaving a shallow cut across his skin. Tòumíng hissed in pain, stumbling, nearly falling. He caught himself on a shelving unit, his fingers gripping the metal, and threw himself backward to avoid the follow-up kick.
She was relentless. Every time he dodged one attack, she was already launching another. Her legs moved like pistons, fast and precise, each kick aimed at a vital area, each strike carrying enough force to shatter bone. She kicked through another metal support beam, the steel crumpling like tinfoil, the sound of tearing metal echoing through the warehouse.
Tòumíng scrambled over a pile of boxes, his hands and knees scraping against the cardboard, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He made it to the next conveyor belt, pulled himself up, and kept running. Behind him, Lù Jī tore through the boxes like they were nothing, her body erupting from the pile in a shower of cardboard and packing peanuts.
"THIS IS SO UNFAIR!" Tòumíng yelled. "I DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS! I JUST WANTED TO PAY OFF MY DEBT AND WATCH BREAKING BAD!"
She didn't respond. She just kept coming.
He reached the next conveyor belt, jumped, landed, ran. She followed. He jumped again, this time to a lower belt, this time closer to the floor, this time with less distance between them. She was gaining ground, her steps steady and relentless, her legs propelling her forward with terrifying speed.
"WHY ARE YOU SO FAST?!" Tòumíng screamed. "YOU'RE LIKE A FIVE-FOOT-NOTHING IN A FRILLY DRESS AND YOU'RE FASTEE THAN EVERYONE I'VE EVER MET!"
She was close now, too close. He could hear her breathing, could feel the displacement of air as she moved. He threw himself to the side, dodging another kick, the blade on her heel whistling past his ear, close enough to cut through his hair.
He rolled to his feet and kept running. The warehouse was a blur of colors and shapes—gray concrete, brown cardboard, white lights, red blood. He couldn't tell where he was anymore, couldn't tell which direction he was running. He just knew he had to keep moving, keep dodging, keep surviving.
"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!" he yelled, his voice raw with desperation. "I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS! I JUST WANTED TO PAY MY DEBT AND EAT NOODLES!"
She didn't answer.
He jumped to the final conveyor belt, the one closest to the warehouse floor, the one that was only a few feet off the ground. He landed hard, his knees buckling, his body collapsing onto the rubber surface. He scrambled to his feet and kept running, his legs burning, his lungs screaming.
She was right behind him.
He reached the end of the conveyor belt and jumped, this time not to another belt but to the concrete floor below. He landed on his feet, stumbled, and fell, his body skidding across the bloody concrete. He pushed himself up, his hands slipping in the puddles of crimson, and looked around.
He was at the bottom. No more conveyor belts. No more high ground. Nowhere left to run.
"CUPID!" he yelled, his voice cracking with desperation. "WHY ISN'T NAKED GUN ACTIVATING?! WHY ISN'T ANYTHING WORKING?!"
Cupid's voice came through, calm and infuriatingly measured. "Because you're not funny right now. The skill relies on comedic timing and appropriate references. You're just screaming and running. That's not a one-liner."
Tòumíng's face went red with rage. "THAT IS NOT HELPFUL!"