Chapter Sixteen: First Encounter with the Dragon Squad (Part One)

After bidding farewell to Ning Qi, Liu Fan walked along the road in high spirits, a foolish grin occasionally appearing on his handsome face. His odd behavior startled passersby, who skirted around him, suspecting they’d encountered a lunatic. Of course, Liu Fan was aware of the attention, but he paid it no mind, content to revel in his own happiness.

Just as Liu Fan was about to reach the entrance of Fudan University, he sensed a faint, unusual fluctuation in the ambient spiritual energy. Though subtle, nothing could escape his almost immortal perception. His brow furrowed, and he quickly extended his spiritual consciousness toward the source of the disturbance. Instantly, he detected a group of black-clad figures pursuing four people, all heading toward the outskirts of the city. The four fugitives were clearly heavily wounded, their steps faltering. Among them was a woman, who, as she fled, hurled fireballs at their pursuers. This piqued Liu Fan’s interest. He glanced around, saw no one nearby, and with a flicker vanished, reappearing close to the chase while cloaking himself and following along.

Soon, the two groups—pursuers and pursued—arrived at an abandoned factory on the outskirts. Liu Fan was finally able to observe them clearly: sixteen men dressed head to toe in black, only their eyes exposed, each gripping a Japanese katana with a short dagger strapped across their backs. Their attire unmistakably marked them as Japanese ninjas; the only distinction was a red silk sash tied around the arm of their leader.

The four being hunted were evidently Chinese. The sole woman among them possessed a beauty that could topple kingdoms. She wore a fiery red bodysuit, alluring and dazzling, much like a rose after the rain. Yet, in the heat of battle she appeared somewhat disheveled—her hair in disarray, her brow beaded with sweat, a several-centimeter gash on her chest oozing blood. Her torn clothes could scarcely contain her heaving bosom, which tantalized with fleeting glimpses, making it impossible for any man not to be captivated.

“You Chinese dogs, you’ve nowhere left to run. Hand over the files, or don’t blame us for being ruthless—especially to this lovely flower among you.” The ninja leader spoke in stiff, awkward Chinese, his tone arrogant. In his mind, the outcome was already certain. His wolfish gaze lingered hungrily on the red-clad woman’s chest.

“Hmph, when have you Japanese ever shown humanity? Enough talk—if you want the files, you’ll have to prove you have the skill to take them.” One of the besieged, a middle-aged man, snorted disdainfully. He then beckoned the others to form a back-to-back circle, murmuring softly, “Xiaoyu, in a moment, Qin Feng, Haitao, and I will do our utmost to break a gap in their line. Seize the chance to escape and deliver the disk to headquarters, no matter what.”

“No—I won’t! We go together, or we die together. We’re a team. I can’t abandon you all just to save myself. I can’t do it.” Tears welled up in Long Xianyu’s eyes as she protested with unwavering resolve.

As it turned out, these four were members of the Dragon Unit, a special operations team from the Chinese National Special Service. They had been dispatched after intelligence revealed that the Japanese, under the guise of commercial investment, were conducting secret experiments on demi-human warriors in China—shockingly, using Chinese citizens as test subjects. The Dragon Unit consisted of Wang Guozheng, Qin Feng, Du Haitao, and Long Xianyu. Three were highly skilled martial artists: one at mid-tier Earth level, two at peak Human level. The sole woman, Long Xianyu, was a C-level fire-elemental esper, roughly equivalent to a low-tier Earth-level martial artist.

Such prowess made them elite in this era of waning magic. Nowadays, a Heaven-level martial artist was considered a peerless master in China’s martial world, and even they were scarce. There existed an even higher tier—Divine level—but that realm was the stuff of legend. In the past four centuries, none were known to have reached it. It was rumored that Zhang Sanfeng, the founder of Wudang, attained this height, but the truth remained shrouded in mystery.

Modern society still harbored many with extraordinary abilities, divided broadly into two categories: martial artists and espers. Martial artists were ranked Human, Earth, Heaven, and Divine, each level subdivided into lower, middle, and upper grades, with Heaven level also known as Innate. Different sects practiced arts of various elemental affinities: yin, yang, metal, wood, water, fire, earth, and rare ones like wind, lightning, and ice.

Espers were classified from F up to SSS: F, E, D, C, B, A, S, SS, and SSS. S-level corresponded to low Heaven-level martial artists, SS to mid Heaven-level, SSS to upper Heaven-level, and so on.

Espers also wielded elemental powers, similar in nature to those of martial artists. The difference lay in focus: martial artists honed their bodies for close combat, while espers cultivated their minds, communing with the elements for devastating ranged attacks.

This mission had gone awry due to underestimating the Japanese defenses. Only a portion of the core data had been copied before discovery, leading to a relentless pursuit all the way here. Realizing the dire straits, Wang Guozheng was prepared to sacrifice himself for the nation—but the vital data had to reach headquarters at all costs, hence his urgent instructions to Long Xianyu.

Seeing Long Xianyu’s willingness to live and die with them at such a critical moment, the three men felt both comforted and aware of her naivety. As members of Dragon Unit, charged with serving as the nation’s last line of defense, they had to put national interest above all else.

“Xiaoyu, now is not the time for sentiment. You must get the data back to headquarters safely. The rest of us are too gravely wounded—we won’t make it. Only you have a chance of breaking through.” Du Haitao was utterly exhausted after a night of fierce battle and a desperate flight. Even the greatest martial skills had their limits. Yet, he faced death unflinchingly, panting but resolute as he addressed Long Xianyu.

“But…” Though usually impulsive, Long Xianyu understood the primacy of national interests. Still, the thought of her comrades dying here filled her eyes with tears, her voice choked with sorrow.

“No buts, Lieutenant Colonel Long. That’s an order.” Wang Guozheng, steeling himself to see the mission through, issued the command harshly.

“Yes…” Realizing the gravity of their task, Long Xianyu quickly composed herself, responding solemnly.

“You Chinese dogs can’t escape. Surrender quietly, and maybe you’ll keep your corpses intact.” The ninja leader, cunning as he was proud, had already seen through their intentions. He gave the order, and his men closed in.

“Now! Xiaoyu, break through—we’re counting on you!” The three men threw themselves at the ninjas with reckless abandon, all offense, no defense, aiming only for lethal blows. The sudden ferocity caught the ninjas off guard, but their superior numbers soon regained control. The Dragon Unit’s members were spent, their bodies battered and bloodied, leaving only Long Xianyu, shielded at the center, with enough strength to hurl fireballs in support.

Amid the chaos, Long Xianyu seized the opportunity and shouted, “Wildfire spreads!” Instantly, searing flames erupted before her, blocking the path to the factory gate. She charged for the exit, glancing back to see Wang Guozheng and the others collapse beneath the ninjas’ blades, barely clinging to life. Swallowing her grief, she fled.

But as she neared the threshold, a cold killing intent swept over her. The ninja leader, who had not yet joined the fray, leaped from above, katana slashing down in a deadly arc. Long Xianyu, unable to react in time, squeezed her eyes shut in despair, instinctively raising a slender arm in a futile defense—about to become a tragic victim.

At that moment, she felt a strong arm encircle her waist. As she struggled, she heard a teasing voice: “It’s hardly gentlemanly to treat a beautiful lady so rudely. Oh, but I almost forgot—you Japanese aren’t even fit to be called human.”

Hearing such a flippant tone, Long Xianyu assumed her rescuer must be some rakish scoundrel. She opened her eyes to see a young man in a white tracksuit, his left arm around her waist, his right hand pinching the ninja leader’s blade between two fingers. His face was sharply defined, with sword-like brows, bright eyes, and a playful smirk as he regarded the stunned ninja.

This sudden arrival was, of course, Liu Fan himself. He had followed the group to the abandoned factory, remaining hidden as he watched the thrilling battle unfold—a spectacle far more entertaining than any action movie. From the conversation, he surmised the four being chased were probably agents of a secret Chinese organization, while their pursuers were unmistakably Japanese. Liu Fan harbored no fondness for these invaders, and when he saw the lone woman about to perish, he finally intervened.

“Who are you?” the ninja leader demanded. “I am Fujita Shunichi, Jonin of the Iga Clan of the Great Japanese Empire. I advise you not to meddle in our affairs.” Though aware of Liu Fan’s formidable skill, he saw only a young man and doubted he could be a true threat. With fifteen chunin at his command, Fujita remained arrogant.

“Oh? I always thought only people could speak human words. I didn’t expect dogs to start learning foreign languages too. Is it me who’s behind the times, or is the world just changing too fast?” Liu Fan quipped, thoroughly annoyed by Fujita’s arrogance.

Long Xianyu, still held in Liu Fan’s arms, couldn’t help but giggle at his playful remark, quickly composing herself afterward.

“Baka! Since you’re so ignorant, don’t blame us for being merciless.” Fujita, proud as he was, could not endure such insults, though he remained wary of Liu Fan’s prowess. He barked a threat and signaled his men to surround Liu Fan.

“And what of it? You Japanese dare run wild on Chinese soil—did you think I’d show you mercy?” Liu Fan dismissed Fujita’s threats with a sharp retort.

“Enough talk! If we’re fighting, let’s get on with it. I have to get home and sleep when we’re done.” Liu Fan, unwilling to waste time bickering with these interlopers, prepared for battle.