Chapter Sixty: The Ambush

By the time they left the police station, night had already fallen. As the group exited, they continued to glare at one another with mutual hostility, but fortunately, standing at the entrance to the station, none dared to start another fight.

“Why was I brought in as well? You were the ones brawling, not me,” Xie Liu grumbled, glancing at his passport. Thankfully, he had sorted that out long ago; otherwise, he might have been mistaken for an illegal immigrant and deported.

“That was for your sake,” replied the short-haired girl, Tenwa Miyuki. She, too, looked disheveled, though the two boys behind her were neat and composed, showing no trace of having just been in a scuffle.

The fight had seemed fierce, but in truth it was entirely one-sided. The two unassuming fellows had revealed themselves as hidden experts, leaving their opponents battered and fleeing in terror.

“Oh, for me? Is that why you had to beat them all black and blue?” Xie Liu shot Miyuki a sidelong glance. The lively girl puffed her cheeks in indignation at his words.

Xie Liu could only give a helpless smile. “Never mind. Still, I should thank you. Otherwise, I truly wouldn’t have known how to deal with those two girls.” He looked at the two boys behind her, who wore anxious expressions, and added, “Tell you what, dinner’s on me tonight. But I’m not familiar with this area—why don’t you pick a place?”

“Alright!” The boys cheered, only to be silenced by Miyuki’s sharp glare. “You got me thrown in the station, and you still expect me to treat you? Shameless!” She tugged Xie Liu by the sleeve. “Come with me.”

Xie Liu was deeply impressed by this carefree girl. What kind of temperament did it take to so nonchalantly drag an unfamiliar boy away? “Let’s go to my place. I’m pretty good at cooking.”

“But you already smashed all the food,” muttered the boy with the spiky hair.

In a flash, Miyuki spun on her heel and delivered a roundhouse kick, sending him sprawling, then planted her foot on his face. “Then buy more, idiot.”

“Oh—ah—harder…” Whether Miyuki’s kick was too gentle or the spiky-haired boy had activated some strange proclivity, he let out a moan of pure bliss, making Xie Liu’s eyebrow twitch with a sense of foreboding.

…

An hour later.

“How did I end up here?” Xie Liu stared helplessly at the hotpot before him, at the two boys eating with gusto, and then at the door patched together with tape, now little more than a collection of splinters.

“Hotpot is perfect for winter!” Miyuki declared with a laugh, scooping tofu into her bowl.

“But it’s not even winter yet,” Xie Liu retorted, appetite gone as he put down his chopsticks. “How did I end up with such a bizarre group of people?”

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Xie Liu from the Huaxia Republic.” He spoke as Miyuki swallowed her tofu, fanning her mouth before replying, “I’m Tenwa Miyuki, this is Uehara Shuichi”—she gestured to the spiky-haired boy—“and that guy is Zhao Yu,” indicating the unremarkable boy beside him.

“Nice to meet you,” Xie Liu said softly. At that, Miyuki remarked, “You’re from Huaxia, but your Japanese is excellent.”

Xie Liu froze inwardly, forcing a laugh. “Haha, I studied it a bit before.”

“That’s not ‘a bit’. Haven’t you noticed? You’re speaking in Kansai dialect.” Miyuki tilted her head, watching Xie Liu. He nearly choked on his soup in surprise, inwardly marveling at the global translation system—so powerful that even dialects were preserved.

“By the way, do you know this place?” Xie Liu tried to change the subject, handing her a slip of paper. Miyuki glanced at it, and her expression instantly changed. “Why are you looking for this place?” Her face grew cold, and Xie Liu was surprised to feel a murderous intent emanate from the petite girl. Even the two boys stopped eating, bewildered by her reaction.

“It’s nothing. I’m meeting a friend there,” Xie Liu replied calmly, his hand dropping to rest on the short blade at his waist.

“All along, you haven’t been speaking Japanese, have you?” Miyuki’s voice was sharp as a blade. “You’re using your native language, but we hear Japanese. There’s only one thing that can cause this—the Global Translation System.”

Xie Liu gripped his blade. “You’re clever. It’s an honor to meet one of my own kind here.” By now, even a fool would have realized that these people weren’t ordinary city dwellers—if they were from the Special Alliance, a deadly fight would be unavoidable.

The two boys held their bowls, staring blankly at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“Fantasy,” Xie Liu said after a hesitant pause.

“Miracle,” Miyuki replied, her expression easing. The exchange confirmed for both that neither was from the Special Alliance.

Xie Liu released his grip on the blade. “May miracles be with you.” He nodded, and Miyuki smiled in relief. “Thank goodness…”

Then, Xie Liu drew his knife. Light flashed as the blade grazed Miyuki’s short hair. With a crisp clang, a gleaming throwing knife was deflected, lodging in the wall.

“Someone from the Special Alliance?” Crouching, Xie Liu scanned the room, searching for the source of the attack. But the throwing knife he’d just knocked aside had vanished, replaced by a painting on the wall—an image of a murderous blade.

“Dimensional Ascension. This intruder’s power is quite intriguing,” Miyuki said, rising to touch the painted knife. “They forcibly elevate two-dimensional objects to three dimensions, but it only works on inorganic matter.”

“I don’t think that’s all,” Xie Liu replied. “This person’s ability is strong. Besides ascension, I believe they can also use Dimensional Reduction.” His voice was grave as he pointed to the battered door now pierced by the throwing knife and stuck to the wall.

When he pointed, Miyuki looked over and gasped. The door was no longer a door, but a flat image on the wall—a painting.

“You’re right, they have that power.” Miyuki stepped back repeatedly. Before their eyes, the entryway seemed to be fed into a compactor, compressing from three dimensions into two.

“He’s coming!” Miyuki shouted, retreating to avoid being trapped in the flattened house.

“You two—run!” Xie Liu called, backing up with Miyuki toward the two boys still eating hotpot.

Barely glancing up, the spiky-haired boy reached out and pressed his hand to the floor. The flattening process halted before him. “Your ability is interesting, but only just. It doesn’t affect organic matter, nor can it hold long. At best, it’s level seven. With such limited power, you dare challenge us? Know your place.” He flicked his fingers lightly, and the flattened world instantly returned to normal.

A scream echoed from the hallway. A man in black, clutching his head, stumbled and fled, soon vanishing from sight. Xie Liu followed, knife in hand, and saw the man running far down the street.

“Someone from the Fantasy City?” Xie Liu muttered in confusion. “Why attack us?”

“It’s these two’s fault,” Miyuki replied, having also chased after. She pointed to the two boys still at the hotpot. Xie Liu frowned—he didn’t want to pry into their business, but the spiky-haired boy, Uehara Shuichi, intrigued him. With a mere flick of his finger, he’d undone the dimensional compression and reflected the attacker’s power. Xie Liu knew of only one other—Franny—capable of such a feat.

“Sorry for dragging you into this,” Miyuki said sheepishly, scratching her head. “People like that usually target those two. This happens almost every day—it’s routine.” She gave a wry smile and pointed her thumb at her companions.

“You call being attacked ‘routine’?” Xie Liu nearly retorted aloud. He didn’t know how to process that. “If that’s the case, I’d wager your nervous systems are robust enough to pry off beer caps.”

“Oh, spare me. I’m just looking for someone—I don’t want to get caught up in any more weirdness.”

Xie Liu sheathed his blade. “Wait, did you say these attacks happen several times—every day?” No sooner had he spoken than something resembling a grenade rolled to his feet.

He stared at the glowing object, resigned. “If I can help it, I’d rather never cross paths with you lot again.”

“Get down!” Miyuki shouted, about to dive for cover. But Xie Liu grabbed her by the collar and leapt to the ceiling. “Get down, my foot! That’s a Directional Gravity Grenade!” he cursed, one hand gripping Miyuki, the other embedded in the ceiling as they dangled above.

“Really?” Miyuki blinked her big eyes at the high-tech device, which beeped and emitted a blinding blue light. A meter-wide hole appeared in the floor.

Xie Liu clicked his tongue. “See? A directional gravity bomb—only blows downward.” They dropped to the floor, where the two boys had also joined them. The four gathered around the meter-wide hole, peering down. From their fourth-floor vantage, the hole drilled through floor after floor to the ground, disappearing into blackness below.

“If that had hit someone, it would have been fatal,” Miyuki gulped. “Are these people trying to kill us?” Xie Liu gritted his teeth and drew his Desert Eagle. “I’m going after him.”

“Who’s so bold?” No sooner had Xie Liu spoken than a clear voice rang from outside. He froze, spotting a tall, violet-haired beauty dragging a faceless captive toward them.

“I just caught someone trying to kill with gravity bombs. Am I expected to clean up after every arrogant, criminal idiot?”

Seeing her, Xie Liu’s eyebrows rose. “You!”