MMPS Ch. 10

Chapter 10: Changing the Classic Appearance

After poring over the relevant files at the Eagle Bureau, Yu An returned home, the clock already ticking past 9 PM.

Investigating alone demanded careful planning, yet time was not a luxury he had. Officer Ye had made it clear—he had to be on his way by midnight at the latest.

Standing in front of his door, Yu An fumbled for his keys, his mind still mulling over his action plan. Three hours to prepare—an all-too-familiar feeling. Back in school, he had always been one to push his assignments to the last minute, finding an unsettling sense of efficiency in the rush.

He stepped into the foyer and casually shut the door behind him. But the door didn’t close easily. It stuck for a moment, and as Yu An glanced back, he saw a hand resting lightly on the doorframe. A paper bag was pushed through the small gap, the Underground Metro logo printed on its surface.

He blinked. “Oh, thanks.”

Looking outside, the person who had delivered the bag was already gone—vanished into the night like a shadow.

Opening the bag, Yu An found his Underground Metro identification card and a Core Storage Analyzer nestled inside.

But these were hardly the tools he needed. He had been hoping for something more—a gun, perhaps, or some more effective weapon. But Zhao Ran had already made it clear that Underground agents weren’t allowed firearms.

It made sense, in a grim sort of way. When the Aberrant disaster first broke out, panic spread like wildfire. The public, gripped by fear, demanded the right to carry weapons for self-defense. But the government saw through this. Granting that right would only spark more chaos.

It was then that the three main aberrant-hunting companies, led by Underground Metro, came into existence. The government granted them legitimacy but with one caveat—they could never use firearms in public tasks. This was meant to send a message to the masses: you could still be protected, even without a weapon in hand.

As Yu An’s thoughts swirled, his phone vibrated, snapping him back to reality. The screen displayed Zhao Ran’s name.

“How’s the equipment coming along?” came the voice on the other end.

“Equipment?” Yu An leaned against the doorframe, scanning the room for anything that might serve as a weapon. “What equipment? A kitchen knife?”

Zhao Ran’s laugh echoed through the line. “Well, there’s an internal market for trades, but it’s not open to interns.” He paused before adding, “However, after midnight every Thursday, the midnight traders come around to sell their goods. Only those with physical deformities can buy, and the goods are genuine—some of them are one-of-a-kind. Take a look and see if you need anything.”

“Midnight traders?” Yu An frowned, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“A sort of wandering salespeople.” Zhao Ran explained. “They bring three random items to sell, but remember this—if you don’t want to buy anything or can’t afford it, don’t open the door when the bell rings at midnight.”

“Why not?”

“If you open the door, even if the items don’t appeal to you, you’ll be forced to buy one.”

“And if I don’t buy?”

“Then you’ll switch from being a buyer to a seller. The trader will leave you ‘ghost money’ and take something from you instead.”

”…”

So strange. It sounds just as unreliable as the interviewer who sent an intern into the tiger’s den for their first mission.

The silence between them stretched, neither of them breaking it. Yu An wasn’t sure if it was the eerie nature of the conversation or the weight of the mission ahead, but something felt wrong in the air.

“Interviewer…?” Yu An ventured, breaking the silence.

“Hmm? I’m listening.”

“Your snack,” Yu An said, his voice lowering as his gaze shifted elsewhere, “it was really good.”

“Hmph. Well, I hope you survive and come back to taste even better things.” Zhao Ran’s voice cracked with amusement. “But here’s some advice, Yu An: once you step into that mission location, the only person you can trust is yourself.”

Yu An: “1.”

Zhao Ran: “…”

Before leaving, Yu An quickly searched the details of the Xiliu Beauty Salon online, his mind replaying the map he’d memorized. Every street, every corner, every possible route.

He packed his shoulder bag with a powerful flashlight, a portable charger, some wires, a box of matches, a small bottle of gasoline, and a set of fine tools—a student’s attempt at preparing for what might lay ahead. He could only hope that whatever he’d packed would be enough.

Once his preparations were complete, he fastened the Core Analyzer to his waist and strapped the leather knife sheath Zhao Ran had given him to his right thigh, ensuring the handle was within easy reach.

Time was slipping away. The ticking of the clock seemed louder now, and soon, the hands aligned at midnight.

It was time to leave. Yu An slung his shoulder bag over his shoulder and hurried toward the door, but then—

A sudden chime of windbells echoed down the hallway. The sound was sharp, eerie, reverberating like the death knell of a forgotten soul. It rose and fell in an unnatural cadence, almost like the sound of a corpse-driver’s bell.

Yu An didn’t flinch. His hand was already on the door handle, and he pulled it open.

A bent old man stood in the corridor, his frail hands shaking as he held a golden bell that jingled with each tremor. When he saw the door open, his head twisted slowly, unnervingly, toward Yu An.

His face—pale, as though drained of life—was unsettling in the low light. His eyes bulged, wide open, black as voids, and his cheeks were painted with unnatural circles of blush, an old-fashioned mockery of life.

Yu An’s heart skipped a beat. His fingers brushed the handle of the knife instinctively. His body was tense, ready to react, but the old man made no move toward him. He only shifted slightly, lifting his robe with a slow, deliberate hand.

Hanging from the inner folds of the robe were three items.

“Midnight trader?” Yu An breathed out, the words feeling strange on his tongue.

Relief washed over him at first—until he remembered Zhao Ran’s warning. Opening the door meant he had to buy something, no matter what.

According to the interviewer, this merchant seems to engage in aggressive selling, and hopefully the prices won’t be exorbitant. Considering the payment he received today, Yu An’s bank card only has a little over 170,000 yuan left.

The first was a folded set of clothes, sealed in a bag. The tag wasn’t about fabric composition, but rather a short description.

Product Name: Pure Black Hood

Part of the Night Walker’s kit—true killers disguise themselves as black (coal) cats.

Primary Effect: [Who Am I] Wearing this suit and hood ensures your face is never seen.

Secondary Effect: [Night Cat] Increases jump height slightly.

Price: 4900 yuan.

The second item was a light blue Aberrant Core, its surface patterned like a mosquito, the color marking it as a Tier 1 Blue—a low-grade core.

Product Name: Mutant Core – Night Walker Mosquito

Price: 800 yuan.

The third was another Aberrant Core, but its appearance was far more striking. It was a shade of white that shimmered with a rainbow-like glow, an unsettling mix of colors.

Product Name: Blind Core White

Effect: Random. Will not change after use.

Price: 2900 yuan.

Yu An hesitated. The items were strange, but there was something undeniably tempting about them. The Night Walker Mosquito core seemed perfect for what he needed—a tool for stealth, for moving unseen. It was the cheapest, too.

However, that outfit is quite appealing as well. It’s a four-piece set: windproof trousers, a form-fitting top with a zipper opening on the back, a hooded short jacket, and a leather tool belt. The special effect of never being seen when wearing the hood is highly practical. However, it might be a case of false advertising, exaggerating the actual effects.

Then there’s the third item, the Blind Core. Such a thing even exists. In essence, it’s a form of gambling, preying on the gambler’s mentality—always believing that luck will be on their side and they can win back the money they’ve spent, only to end up losing everything…

Yu An silently recited three times in his heart: I am not a gambling dog.

…Still, could he afford not to buy? Who wouldn’t want something that could offer them an advantage?

The combined cost of all three was steep—nearly 10,000 yuan. But what was money if he didn’t survive the night?

He took all three items down from the robe and prepared to make his purchase—until another problem occurred to him.

“I don’t have any cash.” he said, his voice tight.

The old man’s face remained frozen, expressionless. He lowered his arm, closing the robe, only to lift it once more, revealing a QR code in its place.

Ding! The Yinline card received 8,600 yuan.

*

The midnight trader left in silence. Yu An, unmoved by the man’s departure, immediately inserted the two cores into the Core Analyzer. After a swift wash and sterilization, the device flickered to life, revealing the following data.

Name: Strange Core – Night Walker Mosquito
Source: Mosquito Aberrant
Type: Common Variant
Grade: Tier 1 Blue (Pale Blue)
Primary Ability: Dodge Fatal Strikes
Usage Limit: Single-use only
Description: Eh, it can’t hit!
Resonance Requirement: Unknown

The single-use limit was a bit of a letdown, but the ability to dodge a fatal blow felt like a fair trade. In the end, survival was the priority—a Schrödinger’s item, useful yet strange. At least he’d live to fight another day.

The analyzer showed a blank screen when Yu An inserted the white blind core, flashing the words “Random Core.” Then, a mechanical printout appeared: Data can be read after embedding.

Yu An had no intention of pulling it out immediately. After all, 3,000 yuan had already gone into this gamble. There was no need to rush. A lottery like this needed a favorable day to truly pay off—if he survived the night.

The world outside was still, silent. The clock struck 12:20 A.M. as Yu An slipped into his all-black hooded outfit and descended the stairs, bag slung over his shoulder.

The outfit worked just as advertised. The moment he slipped the hood over his head, his face was consumed by a deep, inky void. No matter the angle, no matter the lighting, his face remained a black hole—an unsettling, featureless shadow.

Atop the hood, black cat ears flickered briefly, followed by a tail, only to disappear just as quickly. The only minor flaw: the zipper made a soft meowing sound whenever it was pulled, which detracted from the ominous look.

With the speed granted by the Eagle Core, it took less than half an hour for Yu An to reach the outskirts of Jiu’an City, where the abandoned pedestrian street awaited.

Photos online showed the street in its once-glorious state, but stepping into it, Yu An was greeted by nothing but a bleak, quiet emptiness. Streetlights were spaced far apart—every hundred meters or so—and they were in a poor state of repair. The lights flickered sporadically, failing one moment and flaring to life the next, casting an unsettling, uneven glow over the desolate street.

Yu An flicked on his flashlight, his eyes darting from side to side. The streetlights were connected by yellow caution tape, thick with years of dust. The pedestrian zone had been closed off for years, left to rot in solitude.

He followed the path Officer Ye had given him to the Xiliu Beauty Salon, which was supposed to be located deep inside an office building on the street.

A soft crunch echoed underfoot—Yu An had stepped on something. He shined his light downward and found the ground littered with discarded advertisements, thick and scattered like a carpet. They were loosely piled, as though one wrong step could send him tumbling into a manhole, hidden beneath the refuse.

He picked one up, reading it as the flashlight illuminated the print: “Xiliu Beauty Salon: Achieve the Devil’s Figure, Return Your Beautiful Face!” The image of a woman posed into an S-shape, her gaze searing through the ad, seemed almost to beckon him.

But when he looked up, he suddenly found that the office building’s front door was suddenly right next to him.

The side door was reinforced with steel, the revolving door’s axle rusted with age. Yu An pushed with force, the door’s bottom edge creaking loudly—an obnoxious, shrill sound in the otherwise dead silence of the night.

Inside, a light flickered.

A desk lamp on the registration counter glowed dimly, casting yellow shadows across the space.

Yu An’s hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his dagger, his movements slow, deliberate.

He crept past the counter, his peripheral vision catching a strange shape standing behind it. His heart clenched in his chest.

His hand raised the flashlight, casting light toward the figure.

A middle-aged man stood there, a security guard in a faded uniform, smiling broadly. His grin stretched unnaturally wide, as if it had been frozen there for far too long.

“Good evening, young man. Come register.” the security guard beckoned, placing the registration book and pen on the counter with exaggerated politeness.

Yu An’s chest tightened. A security guard, in this abandoned building?

His steps faltered as he approached the counter, carefully taking the pen. His eyes never left the guard’s face.

Leaning forward, the guard squinted at him, his grin unwavering: “What’s with the suspicious look? Not a thief, are you?”

“…I’m here for a beauty treatment,” Yu An answered quietly, his gaze never straying from the guard. He scribbled a string of false information in the book.

A scar ran along the guard’s chin, a jagged line that extended from his left ear to his right, its length unnerving.

The guard was pleasant enough—his grin never faltering. Alone on the night shift in a forgotten building, he still beamed a smile that revealed eight teeth.

But there was something unnatural about it. It wasn’t just a smile—it was the smile. Frozen. Detached. As if it didn’t truly belong to him.

Yu An’s attention shifted back to the registration book, and what he saw there disturbed him further.

Despite the building’s decrepit state, many names had been written down—Zhang San, Li Si, Wang Wu, Zhao Liu. But then, after midnight, the names became incomprehensible. The usual legible characters were replaced by slashes, wavy lines, and random scribbles. Symbols that meant nothing.

Had these visitors failed to write proper names, or had they simply never had names to begin with?

Yu An swallowed hard, his unease growing. He forced himself to finish registering, the guard’s voice still echoing in his mind.

Afterward, the guard, still smiling that unnerving smile, directed Yu An toward the elevator. “You’re a handsome young man.” he said, his tone genuine yet somehow wrong.

The Xiliu Beauty Salon occupied the seventh floor. The corridor was dimly lit, the lights flickering like dying stars in the vast emptiness.

Yu An stepped out of the elevator, his gaze instinctively falling to the large promotional sign for Xiliu Beauty Salon. The same woman in the ad was there, winking provocatively at him, her smile almost too inviting.

But the woman’s image sent a chill down his spine. He quickly turned away, unwilling to linger any longer.

The building’s layout was a simple looping square, with elevators at the center and businesses stretching along the outer ring.

He intended to observe first, keep his distance. Charging in blindly would be unwise.

Just as he tried to move along the wall, the door to the Xiliu Beauty Salon slid open on its own. The consultant, smiling politely, stood waiting for him.

Yu An’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral, taking a deep breath as he slowly walked in, trying to remain casual: “Oh, I just wanted to see what kind of services you offer here.”

“Hello,” the consultant greeted, her smile tight but friendly. “I’m Xiao Li, a consultant at Xiliu Beauty Salon. We offer beauty treatments and body sculpting. How can I assist you?”

“Hmm..what exactly does your body sculpting entail?”

“Sir, you’re already tall and slender. Body sculpting isn’t necessary for you. I suggest you consider our beauty treatments. I see your left eye was injured. I recommend getting a new eye.” the consultant said, showing him a tablet with images of various eye types. “Which one would you prefer? There’s a European mixed green one, an Asian brown one, or perhaps this Sky Stone color?”

Yu An was starting to feel irritated. He dreaded encountering overly enthusiastic salespeople while shopping.

“Hmm, I want good vision, I’ll take the 6.0 vision one.” he replied flatly, his attention more on the room’s layout than the conversation, trying to map an escape route in his mind.

“Excellent, I’ll find that for you.” she said brightly.

But then, Yu An interjected: “Wait, what’s the price first? If I can’t afford it, I’ll go somewhere else.”

The consultant’s face twitched as her smile widened even further: “Sir, I can’t provide an exact price right now. It depends on what the next customer needs!”

She looked up, her expression frozen as she revealed eight teeth, a smile that seemed far too wide, far too empty.