The torrential rain showed no sign of letting up.
Jiang Nuan ran alone toward the northwest, rain blurring her vision.
She followed the traces on the ground. There were no tire marks, which meant the targets were still traveling on foot—for now, at least.
She had run less than a kilometer along the main road through the abandoned district when the water pooled on the pavement suddenly grew shallower. Beneath the rainwater’s wash, a jumble of footprints emerged from the exposed mud.
At least three people.
Among them was a deep drag mark, as if something heavy had been forcibly hauled along.
Jiang Nuan lowered her body and looked in the direction of the tracks.
A hundred meters ahead, the outline of an abandoned factory loomed faintly through the curtain of rain.
She did not approach recklessly.
She circled around to the back of the building and pressed herself against the damp, freezing concrete wall until her fingers found a ventilation opening that had mostly rotted away.
The wire mesh had long since rusted through and broken, leaving enough room for one person to squeeze through sideways. Holding her breath, she slipped inside without making a sound.
The ventilation duct was narrow and cramped. She inched forward until she reached the exit.
Through the gaps, the entire factory floor lay within view.
Three people.
Two men in matching combat uniforms sat against the wall on folding chairs, their clothes bristling with ammunition magazines. One was cleaning a gun; the other was speaking into a communications channel on a terminal.
The third man stood in the center of the factory. A black case lay open at his feet, packed with rows of injection syringes.
And beside the concrete pillar behind them…
Jiang Nuan’s heart sank.
Ye Que was bound to the pillar with ability-suppressing restraints, his hands forced behind his back. His head hung low, soaked black hair plastered to his forehead. His combat uniform was torn in several places, and deep wounds—some exposing bone—ran across his bare shoulders and back. Blood mixed with rainwater and dripped from his arms onto the floor.
He did not move. There was barely any visible rise and fall to his breathing.
Jiang Nuan clenched her hand hard.
She could not act recklessly. She had come alone.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she surveyed the scene.
The factory was not large. Four hanging lamps provided illumination, with cables running from a power-distribution box in the corner.
The three men were armed with two submachine guns and one pistol. But there might also be an ability user among them. The communications terminal was still active—
“The reinforcements just went over. Those three aren’t easy to deal with.”
The man cleaning his gun snorted and clicked the magazine back into place.
“Those bastards are like rabid dogs. Once they bite down, they don’t let go. Especially the fire user—he fights like he doesn’t care if he lives or dies.”
The man at the terminal did not look up. “The boss sent the main force over there. Thirty-plus men are surrounding the three of them. Our job here is simple. Just keep an eye on this one.”
The man standing in the center glanced toward Ye Que. “This guy’s a real monster. Even after being hit by ‘Distortion,’ he still managed to take out seven of our men. Old Zhao had three ribs crushed by his bare hands.”
The man cleaning his gun stood up, obvious wariness in his voice. “Don’t let your guard down. We already gave him an ability suppressant and a sedative, but who knows whether this monster has another trick up his sleeve? We should rest briefly, then move him. The vehicle’s not far away, and we need to get him to the safehouse as soon as possible.”
Silence filled the factory for several seconds.
Then the man at the terminal suddenly lowered his voice. “…What is the boss thinking? Why insist on keeping that woman alive?”
The man cleaning his gun paused.
The man in the center turned around, his gaze cold. “Stop talking nonsense. Just follow orders. The higher-ups said the others can be eliminated, but she must not be harmed.”
“But she’s with those people…”
“That’s for the higher-ups to worry about.” The man in the center cut him off impatiently. “You only need to know that anyone who touches a single hair on that woman’s head will end up worse than this guy.”
As he spoke, he looked again at Ye Que, who remained motionless against the pillar.
Jiang Nuan took in every word, her heart pounding.
Just as she had suspected.
The Cleaners’ order not to harm her was not a spur-of-the-moment decision. It had come from the organization’s highest authority.
Who was it? Who had that kind of power within the exclusion zone?
She had no time to keep thinking.
Ye Que’s condition would not allow her to delay any longer.
Her gaze returned to the power-distribution box in the corner. If she could just cut the power—
Three men. She would have the advantage in the dark.
After so many days of fighting, she could now reliably condense silver crescent blades.
And before leaving, she had also appropriated the suppressed-pistol from Shen Wu.
The power-distribution box was on the outer side of the north wall, inside another room.
She moved silently through the ventilation duct toward the exit in the adjoining room.
The torrential rain perfectly concealed every sound.
Jiang Nuan dropped lightly from the duct and circled around to the power box.
A crescent blade formed between her fingers.
One slash.
The cable snapped with a sharp crack. Sparks spat and fizzed for an instant, then every light in the factory went out.
A terse curse rang through the darkness.
“Fuck! What happened?”
“Don’t panic. The heavy rain probably tripped the breaker.”
“You go check.”
Jiang Nuan heard footsteps heading toward the side door—one person.
She was already pressed into the blind spot beside it.
The instant the door was pushed open, the door panel blocked the newcomer’s view of his left side.
Jiang Nuan raised the suppressed pistol and put a round straight through the man’s forehead.
He did not even have time to scream before his body went limp and toppled forward.
Quick as a flash, Jiang Nuan caught the corpse and lowered it gently to the floor without making a sound.
“Old Zhou?” the younger man called, wariness creeping into his voice. “Why’s it taking so long?”
No one answered.
The atmosphere tightened instantly.
Jiang Nuan heard the clink of metal as someone reached for a weapon.
“Something’s wrong,” one of the men said. “You stay here and watch this guy. I’ll go take a look.”
Footsteps approached in her direction.
Jiang Nuan’s heart climbed into her throat. She did not remain where she was. Without a sound, she slipped behind a concrete pillar on the other side and concealed herself completely in the deeper shadows.
The newcomer was much more cautious than the first. He did not step directly into the doorway.
Then—
“Rat-tat-tat-tat!”
Gunfire erupted without warning. The man never showed himself. Instead, he extended the muzzle from behind the door and unleashed a merciless burst at the blind spot where Jiang Nuan had been hiding moments earlier.
Bullets tore into the wall, sending fragments of stone and dust flying in every direction. The sheer force of the weapon was unmistakable.
The gunfire stopped.
The man was clearly confident in the results of his attack. He leaned out sideways, his weapon still trained warily on the corner of the wall now riddled with bullet holes, preparing to confirm the kill.
And at that precise moment, Jiang Nuan silently emerged from behind the concrete pillar.
Her arm rose, steady and sure.
“Pfft.”
The soft report was almost completely swallowed by the rain outside.
The man’s body jerked rigid. He turned as if trying to see what had happened, but could only pitch forward helplessly, following his companion to the grave.
The dull thud of the corpse hitting the floor sounded especially clear in the cavernous factory.
Two down. One left.
But the third man made no sound.
The factory sank into deathly silence.
Only the roar of rain hammering against the corrugated metal roof remained, along with her own breathing, suppressed to the absolute limit.
It was too quiet.
The hairs on Jiang Nuan’s back stood on end. She twisted sharply to the side—but she was still half a beat too slow.
A hand reached out of the darkness and seized her gun-wielding wrist. Another arm clamped tightly around Jiang Nuan’s neck!
“So it was you, little mouse.”
The man’s voice sounded right behind her ear, thick with murderous intent.
Jiang Nuan could barely breathe under his hold. She struggled on instinct, but the gun in her hand was kicked away, skidding into the darkness.
The man pressed a dagger against her throat.
“You won’t dare kill me,” Jiang Nuan said, forcing the words out through the suffocation.
The moment he heard her voice, the man froze. His grip loosened slightly, though he still kept her firmly restrained.
Jiang Nuan didn’t try to pry the iron-like arm from her neck. It would be useless. The difference in strength between them was simply too great.
She abruptly drove her elbow backward with all her strength.
The point of her elbow slammed directly into the man’s ribs.
“Ugh!”
He let out a short, muffled groan of pain.
Now!
Her ability surged through her body. The phantom of a silver crescent blade was just beginning to take shape at her fingertips.
But she was fast—the other man was faster.
Before his groan had even faded, his other hand shot out like lightning and seized the wrist she was about to use.
“Quite a few tricks.”
His voice had turned cold with irritation. He twisted her wrist sharply, and the pain caused the silver glow gathering between her fingers to scatter instantly.
“Don’t move.”
His voice sounded beside her ear, so close she could feel his breath.
A cold syringe pressed against the skin on the side of her neck.
“Miss Jiang.”
He had called her by name.
Jiang Nuan’s heart jolted. She had never seen this man before, yet he knew who she was.
“You’re brave, and you’re clever. But you shouldn’t have come to save him.”
“…Who’s behind you?” Jiang Nuan gritted her teeth. “Who gave the order?”
The man was silent for two seconds in the darkness. Then he let out a quiet laugh.
“Miss Jiang, you’ll find out soon enough.”
His thumb pressed down on the syringe’s plunger.
“Who it is… that’s pulling you out of the abyss.”
Jiang Nuan felt the needle pierce her skin.
“It’s a sedative. If you know what’s good for you, don’t struggle. It’ll only let you sleep comfortably for a while. It won’t threaten your life.”
“When you wake up, it’ll all be over.”
Sleep comfortably.
The words echoed through the empty, silent factory, sounding especially grating.
Chained to a pillar, Ye Que’s consciousness was submerged in an endless haze of agony and chaos.
He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t see. There was only an unending plunge into the abyss.
Then the man’s voice, carrying a threat against Jiang Nuan, pierced through the layers of mist and stabbed into his ears.
“It’ll only let you sleep comfortably for a while.”
The nerve inside Ye Que that had been stretched to its limit snapped completely at those words.
She was his prey.
Who dared touch her?!
Beside the pillar, a barely audible metallic tremor rang out—the groan of the chains pulled taut to their breaking point.
Then Ye Que’s hands, bound behind his back, clenched violently. Blood seeped between his fingers and dripped onto the concrete floor.
A moment later, there was a deafening crash.
The chains had been torn apart by sheer force. The blue lights on the metal suppression locks flashed violently once before shattering into fragments that flew across the floor.
The man’s reaction was remarkably swift.
The instant he heard the chains break, he released Jiang Nuan and retreated, his hand already reaching for the backup weapon at his waist.
But a hand emerged from the darkness and clamped directly around his throat.
The hand was covered in blood. Its five fingers tightened.
Crack.
The sound of his crushed throat cartilage rang out with startling clarity in the silence.
The man’s body convulsed once, then went completely limp. He was tossed aside onto the floor.
The surroundings fell deathly silent.
Only the pounding rain and the rough, uneven breathing in the darkness remained.
Jiang Nuan stood frozen in place. The syringe had long since fallen to the ground beside her feet.
Relying on the faint light, she could just make out a familiar, tall silhouette.
“Come here yourself.”
The voice came from deep within the darkness.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“Ye Que!” Jiang Nuan cried out in delighted surprise.
A blood-covered hand reached out of the darkness and seized her arm.
The force was almost brutal.
She was yanked into the darkness and staggered into a scorching body drenched in blood and rainwater.
Ye Que’s arm locked around her waist with overwhelming strength.
Before she could even struggle, he lifted her off the ground. Her thighs hung in the air, and her back struck the concrete wall.
He trapped her between the wall and himself.
“Put me down. You’re hurt!”
Jiang Nuan didn’t dare struggle, afraid of aggravating his wounds.
Ye Que said nothing. He didn’t put her down, either.
Jiang Nuan could feel his entire body trembling.
His forehead rested in the hollow of her shoulder, his burning breath brushing across her collarbone. Through their clothes, she could feel the heartbeat in his chest, racing far too fast for a heart that was still functioning normally.
Then he raised his head.
In the absolute darkness, Jiang Nuan couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel his gaze.
Ye Que could see her in the dark.
The next second, he kissed her.
There was not the slightest trace of gentleness in it.
He bit through her lower lip.
It was a kiss filled with ferocity and an overwhelming need to possess.
Pain and the taste of blood flooded her mouth at once. Jiang Nuan let out a muffled cry and instinctively pushed against his chest, trying to shove him away, but her palm touched a broad patch of wet heat.
The wound across his chest was still bleeding, and his body temperature was frighteningly high.
Her hand froze.
Ye Que drew her lower lip into his mouth, then ran his tongue over the wound he had bitten open himself.
His fingers gripped the back of her head. His other hand pressed into her waist, holding her against the wall and leaving her no room to retreat.
Between their lips and teeth, she tasted his blood too. She couldn’t tell whose blood it was.
In the darkness, amid the roar of the storm, surrounded by corpses and the smell of gunpowder—
only this kiss was real.
Only the sound of their heartbeats was real.
Jiang Nuan didn’t know when she stopped struggling.
Perhaps it was when his forehead came to rest against hers.
Perhaps it was when she felt the fingers gripping her thigh tremble.
That trembling wasn’t weakness.
It was the trembling of someone on the verge of breaking down who had finally seized hold of something—and refused to let go.
Ye Que released her lips.
His forehead remained pressed to hers. His breathing was harsh and disordered, his lips still brushing the corner of her mouth. His voice was hoarse.
“Do you really want to see me lose control like that?”
He paused, as though using every last ounce of strength to restrain himself.
“Don’t come to places this dangerous alone again.”
“If there’s a next time, I’ll hide you away. No one but me…will ever be able to find you.”
Jiang Nuan’s lashes trembled in the darkness.
She wanted to say something. Perhaps, “If it weren’t for me, you would’ve been taken away just now!” Or, “You’re still bleeding.” Or, “Put me down first.”
But she couldn’t get a single word out.
She only slowly raised her hand, reached through the darkness, and gently covered the back of his head. The silver bracelet around her wrist brushed against his hair.
His wet black hair clung to her palm.
She said nothing. She only tightened her fingers.
Outside the factory, the torrential rain showed no sign of stopping. Water leaked through a hole in the roof, dripping steadily beside their silhouettes.
The tranquilizer syringe that had been discarded lay shattered in a puddle, its remaining drug dissolving into the rainwater until it vanished.
Along with the man’s final words.
“Who is pulling you back from the abyss?”
Who?
Jiang Nuan closed her eyes and buried her face in the hollow of Ye Que’s shoulder.
The roar of the downpour was too loud.
Loud enough to drown out every question and fear for the moment, leaving only the scorching, all-too-real beat of his heart.
