Clash

What boy hasn’t fantasized about rescuing a damsel in distress? Ji Ning was no exception. Yet in this moment, his heart was filled not only with hot-blooded courage, but also with regret. Though he managed to keep his fear hidden behind a show of bravado, he instinctively sought any possible source of help. In a low voice, he called out to SCP-CN-655. As his symbiotic companion, SCP-CN-655 could sense his panic with perfect clarity.

"Are you afraid?" SCP-CN-655’s voice now carried an unmistakable note of emotion. Though Ji Ning could tell the speaker was deliberately emphasizing this, he couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly the entity was learning.

"Should I be grateful for that?" Ji Ning quipped, gesturing a few times with the fruit knife in his hand. Yet Qin Mo, watching from nearby, noticed his almost imperceptible retreat and tightened her collar, silently vowing not to slow herself down if she needed to run.

"Why?" SCP-CN-655 asked again, and Ji Ning couldn’t help picturing an eager child waiting to watch another episode of Blue Cat’s Mischievous Three Thousand Questions.

"Just look at the muscles on this guy—he looks like he’s spent his life doing pull-ups. You think I’m Bruce Lee?" Ji Ning took another step back. His time at Deer Academy had at least taught him a few things—at the very least, he hadn’t wet himself.

The middle-aged man had already torn off his tattered coat, revealing a torso as muscular and gleaming as a Greek marble statue. He moved with no wasted motion. For a moment, Ji Ning felt as though a prowling tiger was advancing upon him, slow and deliberate, its strength and wildness compressed to the limits within that explosive body, ready to burst forth at any moment.

Ji Ning’s first instinct was to flee, but as soon as he glanced at Qin Mo trembling just a short distance behind him, he quashed the thought. Even if he could outrun the man before him, there was no way Qin Mo could. This wasn’t a bear encounter in the woods where you only needed to be faster than your friend. He cared not only about the ring on the girl’s hand, but also about her herself. Even if she didn’t possess that precious ring, a girl with beauty so striking that even goddesses would grow jealous deserved to be protected. Though he hated to admit it, it wasn’t his fault—anyone standing before such a pure and lovely girl would surely become a worshipper of beauty. She was heaven’s gift to the world.

For him, this was his personal Battle of Stalingrad; behind him lay his Moscow. He had chosen to act the hero, but was equally prepared to be beaten down for it. Ji Ning wasted no time—he spent only a few seconds steeling himself for the fight.

He exhaled slowly, suppressing his fear as he turned around. Every boy faces a moment like this, a moment to test whether their spirit soars higher than the sky or their fate is as fragile as a sheet of paper. Their spines may be broken, their pride may be eroded, but only after they’ve stepped, step by step, into the trap of time.

He then adhered strictly to Professor Sylvia’s advice: if you must fight, make sure you strike first.

Ji Ning feinted with a straight punch aimed at the man’s nose. Whether the man blocked or dodged, Ji Ning was ready with a knee strike. It wasn’t a particularly honorable tactic, but Ji Ning would rather be accused of fighting dirty than have his tombstone engraved with the insipid phrase, "He was a good man."

To Ji Ning’s surprise, however, the man neither dodged nor blocked. Instead, a faint, mocking smile crept across his iron features, like a cat toying with a mouse entirely at its mercy.

Ji Ning instinctively sensed something was wrong, but the body trained by years of combat would not let any opportunity to strike at a vulnerable spot slip by. Without further thought, he landed his punch squarely on the man's face.

A dull thud rang out—like the evening bell tolling in a distant ancient temple. Ji Ning had no time to register sorrow before a shattering pain shot through his knuckles, forcing him to withdraw his hand. The agony bit deep into his bones, flooding his mind with torment. It was as if a wild beast, grinning and bloodthirsty, rampaged through his body, gnawing at every nerve.

He bent his head, gasping for breath like a drowning man snatching at air. His silhouette, backlit, seemed on the verge of collapse. In the silent night, the only sound was blood slowly dripping from his trembling fingers.

Ji Ning gritted his teeth, refusing to show weakness. The lessons from Deer Academy were not so easily forgotten—stay calm. Even if someone pressed a gun to your head, you should still smile and compliment them on their well-maintained weapon. Fear was meaningless; only victory was worth pondering.

The man before him was beyond human—whether by arcane enhancement, corruption, or mechanical assimilation, such an opponent was far beyond what a rookie with less than a semester at Deer Academy could handle. Ji Ning turned slightly to hide his numb right hand, then shouted back at the stunned girl, "Run!"

Qin Mo hesitated for a moment, then turned and fled. But the man wasn’t about to let his target escape. Almost simultaneously, his inhuman body exploded with ferocious power—each step on the asphalt sounded like a sledgehammer smashing into the ground.

If he survived, Ji Ning swore to find out what brand of shoes the man wore—anything that could withstand such force had to be worth buying, perhaps as his one and only choice of footwear in the future.

Cursing under his breath, Ji Ning gripped the fruit knife in his left hand and charged the man. He no longer cared about what to do if he actually managed to take the man down; all he wanted now was to protect himself and the girl.

The blade scraped against the man's right arm, producing a metallic screech that made Ji Ning’s teeth ache. From the sound alone, he knew this fruit knife would be lucky to ever peel an apple again.

Perhaps angered by Ji Ning’s attack, or simply annoyed by his audacity, the man spun around and grabbed the tail of Ji Ning’s dinosaur-print pajamas.

"Let’s hope these pajamas aren’t too well made," was Ji Ning’s last thought. But when it came to disappointment, the Deer Academy’s equipment department never failed—the pajamas were exceptionally sturdy, and even as the man swung Ji Ning into the air, they showed no sign of tearing free.

At last, the powerful centrifugal force hurled Ji Ning hard onto the ground. Even from dozens of meters away, Qin Mo heard the impact. She looked back—only one figure remained standing beneath the streetlight.

A wave of dizziness washed over her. She could hardly believe it. Hadn’t she always scoffed at movies—“Why go back for another rescue when you’ve already escaped?” Yet she stopped in her tracks. She could not accept that the boy who had so recklessly pulled her from the abyss might vanish from her life. Or perhaps, she simply did not know how to save herself if the last person in this world who could truly see her were to die.

“What is that?”

“Mister, you’ve never even heard of the Slime Cult? Your political network must be pretty underdeveloped.”