Chapter Forty-Three: Darkness

Angel cried so bitterly that no amount of comforting could soothe her. Only after Ye Ling held her in her arms and soothed her for a long time did the little girl finally quiet down and drift into sleep. Gazing at the pitiful child in her embrace, Ye Ling looked at Xie Liu and the others with pleading eyes. “Can’t we find a way to keep her with us?”

“It’s no longer a question of whether we can,” Xie Liu replied, picking up the handgun he’d thrown aside and stepping forward under everyone’s gaze. “I’m sorry. My reckless actions have dragged you all into this.”

“What do you mean?” Lin Yang asked, puzzled. Ye Ling also looked at Xie Liu in confusion, as did the rest of the group, their eyes all turning to the troublemaker.

Xie Liu gave a bitter smile. “What’s certain is that this child is connected to the Special Forces League. And since the City wants her, it’s obviously for no good purpose.”

He hesitated a moment before returning the gun to his belt. “But by intervening today, I’ve probably made enemies of both the Special Forces League and the City of Illusions. From now on, I’m afraid…” He shook his head, swallowing the rest of his words, then said, “You can still tell Vladimir that it was all my doing, that you had nothing to do with it—pin all the blame on me. That way, Vladimir the scoundrel might be able to protect you.”

Xie Liu lowered his head in thought, then nodded. “Alright, that’s settled. It’s not too late yet. We’ll go back to the inn, and you—”

A crisp slap resounded, cutting him off. Stunned by the burning pain on his face, Xie Liu gaped in shock.

Ye Ling had struck him hard across the face. “You think that makes you look heroic?” she shouted in anger. Xie Liu, dazed from the blow, stammered, “Why didn’t you discuss any of this with us before making decisions? What right do you have to decide for us?”

“I…” Xie Liu, lost for words, covered his stinging cheek, looking like a wronged bride. Ye Ling’s gaze remained icy. “This is exactly why I can’t stand people like you—always playing the hero, always acting alone.”

“Enough, Ye Ling,” Gong Hou tugged at her sleeve, stopping her tirade. Only then did Ye Ling turn with Angel in her arms and leave. Lin Yang watched her go and then turned back with a sigh. “Xie Liu, you really messed up this time. But then, it’s not your first time acting like this. Even if we tried to persuade you, you’d do the same thing next time.”

“Even though you dragged us into trouble—and yes, we are angry—this time, you can’t bear it alone.” Lin Yang patted him on the shoulder. Gong Hou stepped forward, raised his fist, and extended it. “We’re the Doom Squad, after all.”

Xie Liu managed a wry smile, one hand still pressed to his cheek, the other raised to meet Gong Hou’s fist. Lin Yang joined in, and even Xu Xiong and Li Shizhu, usually indifferent, raised their fists in solidarity.

...

“Now, we’re more or less enemies of the whole world.” Xie Liu called everyone into the living room, where they sat in a circle around him. Even Ye Ling joined, her expression dark and somber. “Whether it’s the City of Illusions or the Special Forces League, both will treat us as enemies. So, this time, we are…” He searched for the words, shrugged, and after a bitter laugh, finally said, “Doomed.”

Yet none of his comrades showed fear, as if Xie Liu were stating a fact that had nothing to do with them.

Seeing no objections, Xie Liu continued, “Since we’ve already made our decision, there’s no turning back. First, ask yourselves—did everything you do this time come from your heart?” He pointed to his chest, then to Angel sleeping in the next room. “Ask your hearts.”

Everyone lowered their heads in silence, but after three seconds, they all looked up—Xu Xiong and Li Shizhu included—no one’s gaze wavering.

“Good.” Xie Liu smiled in relief. “At least, for now, you’re still at my side.”

He took off his watch, threw it to the floor, and stomped it to pieces. It was their communication device with the City of Illusions. Destroying it spoke volumes. Without a word, the others followed suit, removing their watches and smashing them underfoot.

From that moment on, they were a band of outlaws with no backing, ready to defy the world.

“Since the communicators are destroyed, we’re officially fugitives. Let’s think about how to escape.” Xie Liu took a deep breath. “You’ve all seen the City’s and the League’s advanced tech. Escaping them entirely is impossible. But we have two hopes: First, if Angel isn’t especially important, both sides may give up after an initial chase. Second, the League and the City are bitter rivals—hunting us together is our greatest danger, but also our best chance.”

“Let them fight among themselves.” Gong Hou snapped his fingers. “I like your cunning.”

“Exactly. Which means we need a plan. First—” Xie Liu’s words were interrupted as the lights suddenly went out.

“Ambush! Down!” Li Shizhu, who’d been quietly reading comics, shouted. All five dropped to the floor—except Ye Ling, who reacted too late.

A gunshot rang out from afar. Glass shattered across the room. Ye Ling gave a muffled cry and collapsed beside Xie Liu.

“Someone’s hit!” Xie Liu called, rolling over to her. “Where are you hurt?”

Ye Ling lay on the floor, clutching her shoulder, blood soaking through her clothes and spreading across the floor. “Let me see!” Xie Liu tore open her sleeve, but she protested weakly, “What are you doing?”

“Stop talking—we’re in danger.” Xie Liu glanced at the wound with his mutated eyes. “The bullet went through. They’re using ion penetrator rounds from the City. These can pierce electromagnetic shields. Damn, they knew we had an electromagnetic user. They came prepared, and fast.” He pressed on Ye Ling’s wound; she groaned, pain robbing her of speech.

“Flashblade, bandage Phoenix now. From this moment, use codenames only.” At Xie Liu’s order, Lin Yang rolled over, reached out, and summoned a roll of gauze from the medical cabinet with his spatial power.

“Any idea where the shooter is?” Gong Hou asked from behind the wall, signaling with his hand. Li Shizhu peeked out from behind the couch, then ducked back. Xu Xiong closed his laptop—any light could be fatal.

Xie Liu rolled to the window. “Not exactly, but he’s somewhere in the estate. Otherwise, why cut the power? The street lights outside would reveal him. He didn’t expect the inside lights to go too. If not for that, Ye Ling would be dead.” He glanced at the room where Angel slept. “Ghostmind, cloak Angel’s senses. If she wakes up, we’re in trouble.” Li Shizhu’s psychic power enveloped the sleeping child, as gentle as a mother’s embrace.

“Can you pinpoint his location?” Gong Hou brought the sleeping Angel to his side. The little girl, about to wake, slipped back into slumber under Li Shizhu’s hypnotic influence.

Xie Liu dared not stick his head out. “No chance now. A professional sniper never stays in one spot. He’ll relocate after a missed shot.”

He beckoned Gong Hou over. Keeping low, Gong Hou crawled to his side. “I have an idea—you be the bait, I’ll be the hook.”

Gong Hou rolled his eyes. “You want to sell me out?” Xie Liu grinned. “One shot won’t kill you.” “If it hits my head, it will.”

“There’s just one problem—my gun’s in the other room…”

“Damn it!”

...

Time crawled by in deadly silence. No one dared make a sound. Even severely wounded, Ye Ling bit on a piece of gauze and slumped in a corner, barely able to hold her wound, not daring to make a noise.

The only light was the moon shining through the clouds.

Xie Liu and Gong Hou crawled slowly across the living room. Ahead lay the door, but Xie Liu noticed a patch of moonlight on the floor by the room where his sniper rifle was stored.

If they crawled across that spot, they’d be exposed—a perfect target. The only light in the house fell across that doorway.

He signaled to Lin Yang, who shook his head—he didn’t know the gun’s location and couldn’t teleport it with his power.

“Do we have to risk everything?” Xie Liu muttered, thinking hard. Finally, he made up his mind and looked at Gong Hou, who met his gaze and nodded.

Gong Hou clapped Xie Liu on the shoulder, activating his power. Like a cannonball, Xie Liu shot forward, crashing through the moonlit doorway.

Another gunshot rang out from outside, but this time the bullet missed, grazing Xie Liu’s cheek with a searing heat.

Xie Liu slammed into the wall behind the door.

“Ah!” He shouted in pain, blinking against the moonlight. Realizing the danger, he ducked just in time for another shot to strip a few hairs from his head and leave a smoking hole in the wall.

Without hesitation, Xie Liu rolled into the shadows.

“That was close,” he gasped, grabbing his guitar case and assembling his rifle in seconds.

“All set.” He gave a thumbs-up to Ye Ling, who sat pale and silent in the corner, not making a sound despite her pain.

He crouched by the door, rifle in hand. A tense standoff ensued.

It was silent inside. In terms of combat ability, Gong Hou and Lin Yang surpassed him, but in this moment, everything depended on Xie Liu.

He wanted to peek outside but withdrew each time—his opponent was clearly an expert. If he exposed even a sliver of his head, he’d be dead in an instant.

Time ticked by, the ancient clock in the living room marking each agonizing moment. Xie Liu grew anxious—Ye Ling’s condition was deteriorating, and without prompt treatment, she would die.

But any attempt to help her now would put her rescuer in the sniper’s sights.

“What now? What now?” Xie Liu’s breath grew heavy. He saw Lin Yang holding Ye Ling, hurriedly bandaging her, but her face was ashen.

Time was running out.

Gritting his teeth, Xie Liu realized he had only one chance. He saw a mirror on the dressing table, grabbed it, and gently pushed it along the floor to the door.

In the moonlight, the mirror reflected the outside—a large, leafy tree. Xie Liu almost despaired. If the sniper was hidden in the branches, he’d never spot him.

Sweating, Xie Liu pressed against the wall, staring at the mirror, at Ye Ling in Lin Yang’s arms—no clue in sight.

“Don’t panic, Xie Liu. Don’t panic,” he muttered, wiping his palms. He glanced at Ye Ling—her gauze had fallen from her mouth, her hand slipping from her wound, Lin Yang supporting her limp body.

“She can’t hold on much longer.” Lin Yang’s anxious eyes met Xie Liu’s.

“Damn it!” Xie Liu cursed. “No time—got to risk it!” He raised his rifle, about to dash out, but Ye Ling shook her head at him from the corner.

“Don’t move. You’re everyone’s hope.” Her words echoed in his mind, relayed by Li Shizhu’s power. “Hold on. You must hold on.” Her voice was faint; she could not endure much more.

Xie Liu clenched his jaw and sat back down, slamming his rifle to the floor in frustration, hating his own helplessness.

Hold on? How?

He punched the wall—and stopped. The sound was hollow.

The wall was wooden!

Delight surged through him. He estimated the position of the opposite window, drew his dagger, and looked at Ye Ling. “Don’t worry, you’ll live.” With that, he stabbed into the wall.

With his enhanced strength, he quickly dug a small hole—placed where the moonlight couldn’t reach, so the sniper wouldn’t notice.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t have infrared. Even if he does, it’s fine.” The hole didn’t face the window directly, so even if he saw the opening, the wall would block the view.

Now, he just needed to find the sniper—a difficult task, but not impossible. He reached for his infrared scope—then froze.

It wasn’t in the guitar case.

Of course—he remembered. During the fight with the S-class Special Forces, his original rifle was destroyed. The new one hadn’t come with an infrared scope.

“How could this be!” Xie Liu knelt in despair.

“What cruel joke is this?” He looked at Ye Ling, nearly lifeless, who managed a weak smile for him.

“I promised to save her.” Xie Liu gave a bitter smile, wiped his eyes, and made his decision.

“Even so, I’ll—” He stared through the tiny hole, waiting for that single chance to spot and kill his enemy. “Save you.”

“Titan, in a moment, smash the wall in front of me with the old grandfather clock.” He steadied his breathing, forcing himself into calm.

For that moment, Xie Liu poured everything he had into his focus, forgetting himself, the world narrowing to a single point.

He stared ahead. “Titan, get ready. Smash the wall!”

“You…” Gong Hou bit his lip. He understood—when the wall was smashed, the sniper would hesitate, but unless Xie Liu found and killed him instantly, he’d be a sitting duck.

“Do it!” Xie Liu shouted inwardly. Gong Hou crawled to the ancient clock, touched it, and in the next instant, the massive clock flew forward, smashing through the outer wall.

“Xie Liu, you only have one chance!” Xie Liu screamed inside, eyes wide, every fiber focused, staring, staring, and then—

As if in response, the world went dark—utter darkness, only outlines remaining.

In that instant, he saw—a red human figure prone in the tree outside.

The clock blasted through the wall, rubble and dust flying. Simultaneously, Xie Liu fired, his bullet slicing through debris and air, through the sniper’s head.

“Got him!” Li Shizhu reported. “No soul activity.”

A body tumbled from the thick leaves.

“Well done!” Gong Hou laughed, but Xie Liu tossed his gun aside and rushed to Ye Ling. “Quick, stop the bleeding!”

...

“Xie Liu, your eyes…” After laying Ye Ling down—she’d passed out—they wiped the sweat from their brows. Thanks to her own regenerative abilities, she’d survive. Gong Hou stared at Xie Liu.

“What is it?” Xie Liu asked, confused. Lin Yang handed him a mirror. “See for yourself.”

Xie Liu looked—at first, nothing seemed amiss, but then he noticed his irises had turned a deep red. As an eye-mutant, his eyes would redden from exertion, but this was different—not the whole eye, just the iris, and not blood-red, but glowing with an eerie, flickering light—his pupils shining crimson, almost luminous in the dark.

“What… what is this…” Xie Liu blinked, and realized—the world before him had become like an infrared camera’s view. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Looks like you’ve unlocked a new ability,” Gong Hou sighed. “Congratulations—Level 4.”

Xie Liu only answered softly. He looked out the window. The new level brought him little joy, for the darkness before him remained—so thick, there was no light to be seen.