On the Streets of Xing City
Three men, dressed in black and wrapped tightly in concealing clothing, strolled leisurely down the street. The chaos ahead seemed irrelevant to them as they walked straight toward it.
As luck would have it, both sides in the ongoing fight noticed them at the same time. Unfamiliar with the trio, they grew wary.
“Who the hell are you? Can’t you see what’s going on here? Scram if you don’t wanna die!” snarled a member of the Black Dragon Gang, his face twisted in an attempt to intimidate them.
The ones they were fighting were underground operatives of the North Star Organization in Xing City. Betrayed by their own and exposed, they were now being slaughtered.
If it were just the Black Dragon Gang, it wouldn’t be so bad—but lurking behind them were the Hundred Immortals Sect and the Americans.
The Hundred Immortals Sect’s supernaturals and the Americans’ advanced weaponry posed a serious threat.
“Brother Yu, they seem pretty cocky, huh?”
“Yeah, Yu-ge, can we really let this slide?”
The man leading the trio remained expressionless, merely tightening his fist. Only when they stepped into the battlefield did he speak calmly: “Mainly here to loot—I mean, collect equipment and supplies. Killing’s no fun.”
“But Yu-ge, none of us have spatial storage artifacts. Our carrying capacity is limited…”
“If you want one, just say so. Quit beating around the bush,” the man called “Yu-ge” said irritably. “Here, take these. The space isn’t huge, but it’ll do.”
The two exclaimed in unison: “Thanks, Yu-ge!”
“Don’t mention it. You both helped earn these anyway. Consider it a reward for this mission.”
The two eagerly took the spatial storage artifacts, feeling a surge of energy.
“Let’s wreck ‘em!”
——
North Star Branch, Xing City
In a dimly lit secret room, an obese white man pounded the table in frustration, barking into his headset: “Spare no expense! Capture that woman you mentioned—I want her to pay with her life for our fallen soldiers!”
After issuing the order, he frowned in thought before contacting someone else: “Ord, it’s time for you to step in personally. Show these Chinese what America’s new breed of superhumans can do.”
“…”
“That’s right. Your main target is a Chinese girl named Ye Qingyi. I’ve sent you her photo.” He added sternly, “And listen—she’s beautiful, but keep your perverted thoughts in check. She’s crucial to our plans.”
The voice on the other end went from exhilarated to deflated in seconds: “Understood.”
Hanging up, the obese man’s tense expression eased slightly.
“You seem quite confident in this Ord guy?” remarked a lean Chinese man seated beside him, his tone calm.
“He’s one of the most successful subjects from our Superhuman Project. After the serum injection, he showed virtually no side effects. No inherited abilities, just B-tier physical prowess—but he’s got plenty of tricks. Handling a measly D-tier should be a walk in the park.”
The lean man pondered for two seconds. “Let’s hope so.”
The obese white man shot him a disdainful look. “You Chinese really lack confidence, huh? A B-tier versus a D-tier, and you’re saying ‘let’s hope so’?”
“No. It’s not about confidence—it’s about always accounting for the unexpected. History is full of underdog victories.” The lean man smirked. “You people love brute strength, overpowering your enemies. But what we revere is subduing the enemy without fighting.”
“Subduing the enemy without fighting…” The phrase didn’t fully translate for the obese man, but parsing it word by word sent a chill down his spine.
What a terrifying concept.
——
Elsewhere in the City
Su Mo leaned against a roadside trash can, his face pale as he gasped for breath. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his lips trembling, legs shaking uncontrollably.
Behind him, a group of pursuers closed in—among them, the remaining four members of the C-tier white squad, two of whom he’d already killed.
Hah…
He exhaled sharply, the metallic tang of blood thick in his mouth. Every inhale carried the scent deeper into his stomach.
Though his four allies lurked in the shadows, none stepped in to help.
This was a mission. Unless he was truly on the brink, no one was allowed to interfere.
“Qingyi said a formidable enemy would show up within the next three hours. That window’s almost over—where are they?” Muttering, he pulled out a crimson fruit to restore his stamina.
“Tch. Only three left. If those treasures hadn’t mysteriously vanished after that incident, I’d have looted more.” He cursed his past self for not hoarding them.
Just then, a figure sprinted toward him, instantly drawing Su Mo’s attention—and the delighted gazes of his four pursuers.
He’s finally here…
The newcomer was Ord, an artificially created B-tier superhuman. Though lacking supernatural abilities, his physical prowess was monstrous.
The four white operatives promptly retreated, leaving the battlefield to Ord alone.
In their eyes, Ord’s victory was a foregone conclusion—it just depended on when he felt like ending it.
Hidden in the shadows, Ye Qingyi and the others recognized Ord’s strength immediately. He wasn’t someone they could handle.
But there was no alternative. Anxious as they were, they had to stick to the plan.
When Ord had first seen Su Mo’s photo, he’d been intrigued. Now, face-to-face with “her,” his excitement was palpable—his lecherous grin completely unrestrained.
“Little girl, come with big brother. I promise I won’t hurt you,” he cooed in what he thought was a gentle tone.
Su Mo’s face twisted in disgust. “I don’t understand you, but you’re seriously gross right now.”
“What? You agree?!” Thrilled, Ord reached out to grope him.
Su Mo recoiled, leaping back with a nimble sidestep to avoid the grab.
“Huh? Wasn’t she on the verge of collapse? How’s she so energetic now?” Ord was baffled.
Su Mo sneered. He knew the man must be wondering how he’d recovered so quickly.
Truth was, aside from the crimson fruit, the bigger reason was that he hadn’t been that badly injured to begin with.
What a joke. In a situation like this, who’d dare let themselves get critically wounded? Even Ye Qingyi’s arm injury wasn’t as severe as it seemed—otherwise, forget fighting, enduring the pain alone would’ve been impossible.
The two continued their bizarre exchange, each interpreting the other’s words through sheer guesswork. Despite the incoherent dialogue, they somehow kept the “conversation” going.
Ord seemed in no rush to attack. He was too busy trying to cop a feel—after all, the order was not to touch her after capture.
But accidental contact during battle? That doesn’t count, right?