Chapter 14: Double Trouble

“Team Leader, should we send reinforcements?”

Zhao Ran turned off the stereo, his mind clearing from the fog of alcohol. He rested his hands against his lips, pondering. “The boss’s instructions are clear. We have to let Yu An handle the internship on his own. No one is allowed to help him.”

He sat back in his chair, still lost in thought, before murmuring: “It’s ridiculous, but it’s not impossible to fight… honestly, it’s not a big deal.”

His subordinate, Xiao Qi, stood expressionless: “Do you think Yu An will find out?”

Zhao Ran paused, fingers lightly tracing his chin as he calculated in his head. “He probably… won’t,” he began, but before the words could fully form, he suddenly winced, clutching his right hand with a low grunt.

Pain shot through his palm, sharp and sudden, as if something had crushed it. He cursed inwardly. Why had he sent that fool over? That thing couldn’t even walk straight without crashing into doorframes, let alone carry out covert tasks.

Xiao Qi watched silently as Zhao Ran cursed under his breath for a while, before going quiet. The team leader hunched over his desk, his right hand pressed against his chest, a lock of disheveled hair spilling over his face. His neck, visible between his shirt collar and hair, blushed with a faint, uncomfortable flush.

“It got found out… useless fool,” Zhao Ran muttered, his words fading as he slumped further, the pain in his hand almost unbearable. “Get out of there already. If that brat catches you—”

Before he could finish, his body stiffened. The world seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, as if controlled by some unseen force, he collapsed onto the desk, his forehead pressed against his arm. His right hand dangled beneath the table, fingers curled tightly into a fist. The leather of his gloves creaked, grinding together with a faint sound.

The left hand, which was pouring wine on the side, put down the wine bottle, crawled out from the drawer, took a tissue, and handed it to Zhao Ran.

Xiao Qi took a step back, watching his boss in the dim office. Zhao Ran was deeply intoxicated, his eyes and neck flushed with alcohol, looking dangerously close to a public meltdown. If the boss caught wind of this, he’d probably get an earful.

He sighed quietly and went to draw the curtains. The team leader’s usual careless demeanor made it hard to tell if he ever took his job seriously. His work reports and combat settlements, however, always proved that the Underground Metro couldn’t function without him.

Zhao Ran had a penchant for drinking, but unlike the reckless drunks, he wasn’t prone to throwing tantrums. Most times, he’d simply seek out a dark corner, sit quietly, and zone out. Alcohol seemed to numb his emotions, as though it was the only way he knew to deal with them. Xiao Qi had walked into the office early many times to find Zhao Ran slumped against the window, white shirt wrinkled and pale face hidden behind strands of dark hair. The cold from the glass would bite into his skin as if trying to freeze him in place. His eyelashes would be weighed down with frost, and he looked like a moth ready to die.

But then the intern arrived, and everything changed. Zhao Ran had gone out of his way to pick out a bright red shirt, one he’d never worn before. Every time he left the office, he’d stop and linger before the mirror, adjusting his look as if for the first time ever, concerned about how the company would view him. His transformation wasn’t lost on his subordinates, who saw it as nothing short of miraculous: A washed-up drunk had suddenly adopted the demeanor of a doting pet owner, bringing home a helpless kitten from the pet store.

Zhao Ran’s phone vibrated on the desk. He lifted his head from the crook of his arm, his lips torn by his own teeth, blood staining his lower lip.

Emergency Order Unit 1, Yu An: Where are you?

Yu An’s text was like a strained cry for help. It was as if he was a helpless kitten searching for its mother.

Could it be? The aloof, self-sufficient kid was actually asking for help? Was he really in that bad of a situation?

*

Yu An was in deep trouble.

The male doctor’s movements were clumsy and uneven, each step bringing him closer to Yu An. He lifted his foot, bringing it down with force directly above Yu An’s head.

Everything went black in front of Yu An’s eyes. A deafening buzz filled his ears. His fingers grasped the wall as he lifted himself off the ground, instinctively rolling forward just in time to avoid the crushing blow. The air around him was thick with tension as his body tumbled, narrowly escaping becoming a flattened mess.

Yu An scrambled backward, retreating three meters and falling into a defensive stance. His left eye still burned with the glow of the Satan’s Guidance core, its mocking smile flashing at the doctor.

The effects of the core lingered. The doctor’s movements were sluggish, almost comically slow. Yu An seized the opportunity, lunging forward with a left hook. But the doctor blocked the strike with his arm, and in an instant, Yu An spun, delivering a brutal blow to the doctor’s ribs.

The sickening sound of bone breaking under pressure rang through the air.

The doctor gripped his side, leaning against the wall to keep from falling, gasping for breath.

Yu An stared at his left hand in disbelief. He had no memory of ever being trained in hand-to-hand combat, yet every movement, every instinctive strike, felt as natural as breathing. His right hand was his dominant one, but whenever he fought, his left hand led the charge.

Was it his trainer who favored the left hand? But who had taught him to fight? The memories were gone, wiped away. Each attack was a reflex, every muscle movement a result of some forgotten memory.

As the number of attacks and evasions increased, instincts began to form patterns in his mind. Yu An no longer relied on the feeling of his punches landing to guide his next move.

He kicked off the wall, his pitch-black hooded outfit enhancing his jump, while the tips of his boots were equipped with retractable claws that greatly increased traction.

Yu An leapt into the air, spinning mid-flight to deliver a flying sidekick. The double kicks landed with precision, striking the male doctor’s face. The blade-like tips of his boots grazed the doctor’s skin, and the gust of wind Yu An generated slashed across his face, leaving two deep gashes, cutting from the bridge of his nose into the skull.

As the doctor staggered backward, losing his balance and falling to the ground, Yu An moved quickly, pressing forward. He plunged his dagger into the unsearched area, hunting for the doctor’s distorted core.

The blade sliced smoothly down his upper arm, cutting through muscle with precision, but still, there was no core to be found.

Cold sweat beaded on Yu An’s forehead, strands of his black hair sticking to his cheeks.

Then, a sound from behind.

His mind raced as he remembered the cold, clinical images from Officer Ye’s bone art video. Two doctors, not one, had performed a surgery on a patient with obesity, their hands gliding over the body with an eerie precision.

Before Yu An could react, the wall behind him exploded with a sharp crack, a woman’s hand emerging through the debris, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward her.

“Sh*t, there’s another one…” Yu An’s instincts kicked in as he drove the knife into the hand that reached for him.

The woman’s shrill, blood-curdling scream reverberated through the entire building. Without thinking, Yu An lunged forward, his right hand springing from the ground with unnatural force. A massive hand, too large to be human, clamped onto his armpit, hauling him up. But it was only one hand, and it couldn’t hold the weight. Together, they fell in a chaotic tumble.

Steel beams and chunks of concrete rained down from the massive hole in the wall, and, through the debris, a woman in a white lab coat tore through the shattered tiles. Her long legs slid effortlessly over the rubble as she entered the room with unsettling grace.

Her lips were painted a deep, violent scarlet, her eyeshadow a sinister blend of black and blood red. A smile, far too perfect to be human, spread across her impossibly beautiful face. Her gums were exposed in a grotesque snarl, and in her hand, she held a scalpel—its sharpness gleaming like a promise of pain.

The guardians of the beauty salon, Yu An realized with a shudder, were not human at all. They were twisted, monstrous doctors.

In that moment, only one thought flickered through his mind: It’s time to retreat. Even if the person he was rescuing was a genius engineer who had contributed greatly to the world, his life was not worth throwing away for a lost cause. He wouldn’t let himself be buried alongside this nightmare.

If Mr. Zhou died, it would only mean that the Underground Metro had made a grave mistake. Sending an intern to handle such a critical mission, to spy on the Eagle Bureau—it was pure negligence.

Yu An understood his own limitations. There was no victory to be found here. The only choice left was escape.

“Move!” Yu An growled through gritted teeth, dragging his trembling right hand as he sprinted toward the exit. His left eye blazed with violet light, the mark of Satan’s Guidance twisting into a malicious grin as it locked onto the female doctor.

For a brief, unsettling moment, the female doctor froze, her movements faltering as her mind succumbed to the confusion of the Satan’s Guidance’s influence. It was just enough for Yu An to land a punch square on her face.

But her combat skills were far superior to those of the male doctor. Even as her mind clouded, her instincts remained razor-sharp. Her reactions were fast enough to block Yu An’s flying kick and even launch a counterattack.

The two were locked in a brutal clash, each blow heavy with desperation. Without the weakening effect of the core, Yu An knew he wouldn’t last long against her. Three rounds, perhaps, before she overpowered him.

She shattered Yu An’s guard with a brutal punch, and with the grace of a dancer, her long, stocking-clad leg slammed into his chest.

He heard the sickening crack of his ribs shifting, a sound that seemed to echo in his skull.

The impact forced him to brace himself against the wall, struggling to stay upright. His chest burned with agony, a hot, sickly sweetness rising in his throat, choking him. He could taste blood.

What else could I use?

He danced through the shadows, using the darkness to hide his movements, all the while his hand frantically searched his waist. His fingers finally brushed against the Core Analyzer and pulled out the Blind Core White.

“Only you’re left… even if you’re the lowest-level goat horn, it’ll have to do…” Yu An muttered through clenched teeth, his fingers caressing the Blind Core White. He pressed it to his lips in a strange, silent prayer before slamming it into his eye socket.

The moment it settled, the Blind Core White fused with him. His vision blurred, and the Core Analyzer’s screen flickered wildly, displaying only a chaotic jumble of data.

Time itself seemed to stretch and distort. The world slowed to an unbearable crawl. It was as though the air itself had thickened, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. The sound of a slot machine’s lever being pulled, dice spinning across a table, the corner of a poker card being flicked, the roulette wheel spinning—the world was a fever dream.

And there, pressing against his temple, the revolver’s cylinder clicked.

Yu An had placed everything on this blind core. His life, his fate—everything hung on this single core.

The Core Analyzer finally spoke, its voice a mechanical hum in the silence: “Successful link: Blind Core White” The screen began to display the data slowly, as though hesitant.

Name: Equipment Core – Arrogant Bat
Source: Blind Core White, randomly activated
Type: Common Variant
Grade: Tier 1 Purple (Roland Purple)
Primary Ability: A heavy wooden bat that will not break.
Usage Limit: After one use, it exists permanently in physical form.
Description: A legendary bat, passed through the hands of 29 baseball players. Remarkably, every time it was used, it would slip from their grasp and strike the umpire in the head.
Resonance Requirement: Unknown

The Aberrant Core shifted, turning a dull, lifeless gray, before it fell from Yu An’s eye socket. From within, violet threads spilled out, twisting and tangling with each other in the small space, a violent dance of energy.

A wooden baseball bat materialized in Yu An’s hand.

He stared at it in shock, testing its weight.

“It can also materialize… It’s not a gun, but…” His expression shifted, the fear draining from his face. What remained was something colder, more dangerous—a hunter, now fully aware of his prey.

“…It’ll do.” Yu An stopped in his tracks, no longer fleeing. With a swift, fluid motion, he raised his hands.

The female doctor, relentless and unyielding, stretched out her hands, aiming for Yu An’s neck. But just as her fingers reached for him, a shadow—a dark, narrow streak—sliced through the air. With a deafening crash, the bat collided with her skull, the impact landing squarely in the center of her head.

The force of the blow was far greater than any knife’s, its damage magnified by the sheer weight and inertia of the bat. The woman was sent hurtling three meters backward, crashing into the debris with a sickening thud.

“Home run.” Yu An murmured, his voice cold, as he watched her crumple into a pile of discarded clothing and broken metal. He slid the bat into his backpack with practiced ease, drew his knife, and leapt toward the woman’s fallen form. He plunged the blade into her side, digging deep in search of the Aberrant Core.

It was hard to say whether it was the fake smiles of the beauty salon employees or the thrill of the chase, but Yu An felt something stir within him, something darker and far more pleasurable. A twisted enjoyment began to crawl through his veins as he stood above the woman, blood dripping from his hands.

Blood sprayed across his face, but he barely noticed, caught up in the growing excitement of the fight.

The woman snarled, her hands shoving Yu An off her body as she struggled to rise. Her forehead was caved in, the hollowed skull a grotesque feature of her deformed face. Her eyes bulged out unnaturally, and with great effort, she lifted a trembling finger toward the male doctor. Her voice, broken and strained, spat out disjointed, almost incoherent words: “Thin… girl… says… kill… him…”

Who?

Yu An froze, taken aback by the twisted words that dripped from her malformed mouth. It was almost incomprehensible, as though the creature had no voice of its own, its vocal cords struggling to form coherent speech.

The male doctor, hearing the command, twisted his lips into a strange, sinister grin. He slowly removed his cracked glasses, revealing eyes that gleamed with cold calculation.

Yu An watched, confused, as the doctor walked toward the X-ray machine, standing between the display board and the machine itself.

The machine buzzed to life, and a skeletal image of a human body appeared on the screen.

The doctor reached out toward the display, his fingers seemingly grasping at the image of a femur. With a savage yank, he tore the image from the screen.

In an instant, the right leg of the skeleton vanished from view.

And then it appeared—a bone in the doctor’s hand. The femur had transformed into a weapon, its bone protruding like a long axe, with the tibia and fibula connected at the end, creating a macabre, jagged edge.

Yu An’s eyes widened in disbelief. Was this real? Was the doctor pulling bones out of the X-ray like some kind of nightmarish magician?

The doctor, wielding the femur-turned-axe, lunged at Yu An. His leg dragged limply behind him, a useless appendage that left him limping awkwardly. His movements were slow, painfully sluggish.

The axe swung down with brutal force, and Yu An barely managed to block it with the bat. But the doctor had the advantage in leverage—his strike carried immense weight, pushing Yu An’s arm back with a deafening impact.

Yet the doctor’s sluggish movements, hindered by the confusion of the demon’s influence, gave Yu An just enough time to react.

But the female doctor wasn’t standing idle. In a swift motion, she rushed toward the X-ray machine, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her bones appeared on the screen, and she reached into the image, pulling out the bone of her left arm. It transformed into a jagged sword in her hands.

Her left arm hung uselessly by her side, but she wielded the bone sword with deadly precision, lunging toward Yu An with ruthless intent.

Yu An, caught in the crossfire of the two doctors, found himself struggling to keep up.

That X-ray machine was definitely malfunctioning.

“Shut it off! Turn it off now!” Yu An shouted to his right hand.

The right hand scrambled desperately, circling the machine in search of wires or switches, but after several fruitless attempts, it only grew more frantic. Sweat streamed down his forehead as the seconds ticked away.

“…Tch, fine. I’ll do it.” Yu An muttered, his voice sharp with irritation. He swung the bat with a mighty swipe, using the brief lull in their attack to jump back and position himself by the machine. “Cover me.”

Without hesitation, Yu An grabbed his right hand and tossed it toward the two twisted doctors.

“Get in there!” he shouted.

The right hand flew through the air, fingers splayed wildly as it arced toward the male doctor. It was a desperate, frantic throw, but it landed squarely on the doctor’s face, knocking him off balance.

The male doctor’s steps faltered, a strangled cry escaping his throat as he tore the right hand off his face, flinging it aside.

But the right hand wasn’t finished.

With unnatural agility, it sprung back into the air, hovering momentarily before reshaping itself into a sharp, blade-like fist. It lunged toward the doctor’s neck, forcing him to stagger back, raising the femur axe in a desperate attempt to defend himself.

But the right hand was faster.

In the blink of an eye, it shifted into a fist, delivering a devastating uppercut to the doctor’s chin. The next series of punches landed with brutal force, slamming into the doctor’s chest, each blow driving him backward. The doctor’s mouth spewed saliva as he was pushed back, step by step, his body reeling from the onslaught.

The right hand landed gracefully on the floor, its fingers poised as it took its final position, mimicking Bruce Lee’s iconic gesture. With a chilling calmness, the right hand raised its fingers in a defiant pose that declared: “I’m—gonna—beat—you!”