MMPS Ch. 25

Chapter 25: Underestimating Me

The Aberrant Core embedded in the pinky of Ni Lan’s left hand glowed faintly with a pale light. It was of the same grade as the Illusion Core in Yu An’s hand—both were Tier 1 Silver Cores. Like the arrogant batons they wielded, these were considered equipment cores. However, her light saber could retract freely into the Aberrant Core, effortlessly slicing through cement walls like cutting through cake.

The silver hue on her right pinky was darker, at least of  Tier 2 Silver, though its power was still uncertain.

With a swift strike, her saber cleaved through the air, leaving a fleeting trail of light in its wake. When the light faded, the entire section of the brick wall above the cut shifted diagonally before crashing to the ground in a thunderous collapse. One corner of the factory’s walls disappeared, and the van behind it lost its cover.

As dust and smoke billowed into the air, the three burly men who had been holding their guns exchanged a glance, panic flashing across their faces. Without hesitation, they turned and bolted, yelling at the two men hauling goods to jump into the van and drive off.

The driver floored the gas pedal, the van speeding away from Ni Lan’s position. Ni Lan sprang onto the edge of the broken wall, gripping her saber with both hands. She swept it across, slicing the upper edge of the brick wall into jagged steps, using the uneven surface as footholds. With a powerful leap, she vaulted over the wall and, before the van could fully accelerate, swung her saber in a sweeping arc.

The corner of the van’s cargo compartment was cleanly severed, the steel shell falling to the ground with a sharp clang, bouncing across the narrow road, sparking against the asphalt.

But the gap between them had widened, the chase was hopeless. Ni Lan slowed her pace, fury bubbling inside her. She screamed in rage, thrusting her saber into the ground.

“Not the day for business,” Ni Lan muttered, flipping the hollow dice earrings in her ear. The six faces spun rapidly. “Bad omen… I hope I won’t run into trouble with the exam.”

Absently, she looked up and saw a figure standing just ahead, near the van’s closest point. A young man dressed entirely in black, a hood shadowing his face, enveloping him in darkness.

“Hm? Not a civilian?” she murmured, her voice low.

Yu An’s all-black hooded suit gave him the agility of a cat. The moment his eyes met the scarred man’s, he lost focus for a moment, analyzing the van’s trajectory and the tracks it left behind. He predicted the vehicle would make a sharp right turn once it started moving.

He sprinted diagonally across the abandoned factory floor, reached the far corner, then jumped and grabbed the top of the wall, pulling himself up with feline grace before dropping softly onto the other side.

He reached behind, pulling out his prideful bat from the backpack, and with a quick twist of his body, swung it toward the tumbling corner of the van, the bat making contact with the angular steel.

The corner of the van flew off in a sharp arc, its parabolic trajectory aimed perfectly at the front tire. The van, now accelerating at high speed, hit the tire with brutal force. The front wheel exploded, causing the vehicle to violently drift, screeching as the rubber burned, the scent of scorched rubber filling the air. The van left deep black tire marks across the narrow road before careening into the ditch on the side.

The scene was witnessed by three members of the patrol team, who were stunned. Their eyes locked in confusion.

“Who is that? One of ours?” one of the patrolmen asked.

The leader of the group immediately contacted the command center: “Check on that black-clad young man.”

The command center replied without hesitation: “That’s Yu An, an intern from Emergency Order Unit  1. Zhao Ran is responsible for him.”

At the mention of Yu An’s name, the patrol leader, sensing the gravity of the situation, urgently relayed through the intercom to Ni Lan, who was still chasing them: “Xiao Lan, the person in black is one of ours. Don’t hurt him.”

Ni Lan watched as the van, now upside down, tumbled into the ditch. With a swift motion, she drew her saber and followed.

The van crashed onto its head, its front and cargo compartments buckling under the impact. The scarred driver slammed his fist on the steering wheel in frustration, then smashed through the stuck glass of the door, crawling out. From his waist, he drew a handgun, aiming it straight at Ni Lan as she approached.

The shot echoed, loud and sharp, a sound that reverberated painfully in the ears. But Ni Lan didn’t flinch. Her saber rose in a fluid motion, and with a flash, it cut the bullet in mid-air, splitting it into two as sparks flew.

The three men with guns abandoned their vehicle, fleeing into the distance as they frantically pulled their triggers. Bullets tore through the air in all directions, creating chaotic arcs of danger.

“Bet your aim sucks,” Ni Lan taunted, fearlessly charging toward the van. She swung her sword in a sharp arc, the blade flashing across the scarred man’s arm. At first, he only felt a faint brush, like being scratched by a thread. But two seconds later, the entire lower half of his arm, along with his hand, slid off with the smoothness of a hot knife through butter, falling to the ground in a bloody heap.

The man’s shock was palpable, his scream breaking into ragged sobs as he cradled his stump, writhing in agony.

The others, seeing their leader fall, had no will to resist. Panic overtook them as they scattered in all directions.

But they forgot one thing.

Yu An was standing directly in their path, blocking their escape route. His hands rested casually on his bat, the weapon planted firmly on the ground between his feet. His hood shadowed his face, leaving only a void where his expression should be.

He wasn’t the type to help a colleague just because they saw each other underground. Yu An’s indifference to the scene was rooted in one simple fact: he had his eye on the three guns in their possession.

With a single motion, Yu An lifted his bat, swinging it to strike the first man’s skull. The sound of a solid hit echoed, followed by the sickening crunch of bone. One of the men raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Yu An dodged, slipping low to avoid the shot before springing forward, his bat smashing into the man’s head with brutal precision. The man screamed, dropping the gun, and Yu An snatched it from mid-air.

Only one man remained, breathless and panicked, scrambling to his feet, his eyes wild. He spun to face Yu An and found himself staring directly down the barrel of a black hole.

Yu An stood firm, holding his bat in one hand, the stolen handgun in the other, the dark void of his hood the only thing visible.

The man trembled, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, before forcing a nervous, cocky smile: “Hey, you’re not from the streets, right? You know how to use that gun?”

The three major aberrant-hunting companies are bound by an agreement: no firearms on duty. The Underground Metro patrol team follows the same rule—no firing in public patrols. Yet, some people deliberately exploit this loophole. After all, a gun is faster than most weapons at seven paces, and within seven paces, it’s both quick and deadly accurate.

The competition between these three companies is far more vicious than in the world of regular business. Competing companies often hire unregulated third-party forces to gather intelligence or smuggle sensitive materials.

As long as there’s no open confrontation, the government stays out of the fray. After all, this isn’t merely a fight between humans anymore. In these battles involving Aberrants and their hosts, the danger is constant, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder, where a single move can set off a devastating chain reaction.

“I’m just an intern.” Yu An muttered, gripping the sleeve of his jacket, slamming it against his shoulder with a sharp click as the bullet slid into place. He extended his arm and, without hesitation, fired, a clean, pinpoint shot twenty meters from the door.

The severed hand of the scarred man holding a gun dropped to the ground as the bullet struck. The hand exploded in a violent burst, but the gun remained, falling intact onto the floor.

The last man, pale as a ghost, slowly raised both hands in surrender and dropped his weapon at his feet.

The Underground Metro Patrol Team arrived swiftly, securing the fallen workers scattered across the floor, preparing to escort them away. A few officers in protective suits carefully handled the cargo, one of the boxes showing signs of damage, its contents uncertain—possibly even dangerous.

Yu An tried his best to remain invisible. He quietly slipped the three guns into his bag and crouched down in a small, unobtrusive ditch, collecting bullets one by one from the ground.

“Who are you?”

A soft, almost melodious voice came from behind him, startling him into looking up. His eyes met hers—dark, thick-lashed eyes that seemed to pierce right through him.

Ni Lan stood above him, her hands on her hips, bending slightly to look him over. The dice hanging from her earlobe spun lazily, and her black-and-white-dyed hair cascaded over her shoulder.

Yu An hastily packed his things, throwing his bag over his shoulder, ready to run—but before he could, she grabbed him by the collar. Her grip was strong—unnervingly strong—as she yanked him back in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Ni Lan’s voice was playful, but there was something dangerous in it. She reached into the deep black hood of his cloak, pulled his face out by pinching his cheek, and tugged him into the light. “How old are you? They wouldn’t hire children, would they?”

Her beauty was overwhelming—a strong, confident face with sharp features, dramatic eyeshadow, and deep red lips that made Yu An freeze.

He hated being approached by strangers—especially women. The words caught in his throat. His face ached from the pinch, but after a long pause, he mumbled: “1999. Emergency Order Unit intern.”

“Oh…” Ni Lan’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Zhao Ran sent you, huh? No wonder they warned me not to hurt you.” Her thumb brushed his red cheek, and her smile grew. “If Zhao Ran asks, just say you fell. Got it?”

In the struggle, the zipper of his bag came undone, and it let out an awkward “meow” sound.

Yu An: “….” 

“Pff…” Ni Lan covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Where did you get that outfit? Can you send me the link?”

Yu An reluctantly answered. “The Midnight Trader sold it.”

“Ah…” Ni Lan’s voice lilted with amusement. “Then it’s definitely sold out. I love shopping there too.” She flicked the dice on her earlobe with a mischievous grin. “I’ve bought so many things from there.”

Yu An studied her attire closely, noting the distinct, almost enchanted nature of her clothes. Her skirt resembled that of a dealer, and her whole appearance radiated the kind of obsessive, gambler’s fervor that one might find in a casino at midnight.

He found an excuse to leave, as instructed, and made a quick check around the Guxian County Hospital to ensure there were no issues. After confirming everything was normal, he returned to Pisa Manor Station, only to find Ni Lan waiting for him outside the station hall.

“Hey, little brother. The patrol team’s van is full, so they told me to take the subway to the company. Are we headed in the same direction?”

Yu An blinked, momentarily stunned, before realizing he had nodded.

He instantly felt the weight of her clothes and accessories—something about them felt off, like they might have a subtle influence over the minds of others, like a croupier at a card table, controlling the flow of the game with a single glance.

Together, they entered the platform. Her outfit was so distinctive that it drew the attention of the passengers around them. Yu An, however, paid them no mind, gripping the handrail tightly and gazing out at the old, worn-out station platform that slid past them.

Aberrants had overrun the city, and the once-safe zones were shrinking rapidly. Hongli City’s population had already diminished by a third, and the dilapidated stations reflected the decay of the city itself. The neglected platforms mirrored the decline of the world around them.

But still, some refused to leave—either too destitute to afford an escape or perhaps sensing opportunity in the chaos, their noses keen for business with the aberrants.

“I heard that the big boss bought up all these old buildings.” Ni Lan said, nodding toward the desolate, abandoned areas outside the window.

“Think they’ll sell? I doubt anyone will want to move in now.”

“Haha, who knows? Ant Hill Station is still twenty minutes away,” Ni Lan said, glancing at the station sign. Her high heels seemed to be taking a toll on her, but she endured. The Midnight Trader’s outfits could only be worn in their entirety to work properly.

The passengers around them went silent the moment Ni Lan mentioned their destination—Ant Hill. Eyes that had once wandered quickly turned away, some even retreating a few steps, clearing space around them in nervous reverence.

Yu An took a nearby seat and gestured for Ni Lan to sit.

“You’re well-behaved.” Ni Lan sat down without hesitation, pinching Yu An’s cheek again as she settled into her seat.

She was tall, towering over him in her heels, and as the train swayed gently, Yu An couldn’t stop his mind from wandering—imagining a scene where she lost her balance, stepped on his foot, and the sharp heel drove into the top of his foot, blood spraying out in a shocking burst.

As Ni Lan settled into her seat, she casually placed her hands on her lap. Yu An’s gaze lingered on her small pinky finger, its deformity catching his attention. He couldn’t help but stare.

“It was severed at the casino.” she said matter-of-factly, raising both hands to show him. “I lost the bet, so I accepted the consequence. After that, I left.”

“Gambling?” 

Ni Lan nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Well…It’s in my nature. When my hands itch, I can’t help but play.” She gave a small chuckle, then pointed to the two embedded slots in her hands. “These two? Blind cores. I gambled on them.”

Yu An’s eyes widened in disbelief. It wasn’t just any gamble. Carriers could only embed a single core in their lifetime, and once implanted, it was permanent. But here she was, wagering on blind cores—two of them. It was fortunate that she had struck silver-level cores, but the risk… if the odds had turned against her, she could have ended up with a low-grade core or one with few uses. A single wrong move, and her fate could have been sealed.

This was no mere gambler’s instinct. This was a reckless bet on life itself.

The train car grew emptier with each passing station, until, at the final stop—”Ant Hill Station”—it was just the two of them. The isolation in the empty train was palpable, almost suffocating.

The Underground Metro headquarters were located at the station’s platform, but there was much more hidden beneath the surface. The city’s metro lines were divided into subzones, each forming a complex, sprawling network that extended deep beneath the earth.

When they stepped off the train, an eerie darkness enveloped them. The station felt different—unnatural. The scent of danger, faint yet undeniable, seemed to hang in the air like a warning. The platform, far removed from the others, didn’t lead to any surface exit. Instead, only a single elevator descended into the black void, its crevice leaking a faint red light—a lonely glimmer in the pitch-black space.

The elevator was long, unnervingly so. It moved slowly, the darkness pressing in from all sides as it descended for what felt like an eternity. Finally, after what seemed an age, a golden light appeared at the bottom, cutting through the gloom. The entrance that awaited them was an opulent sight, radiant in gold and jewels. Flanking the elevator were black-suited bodyguards, parting to form two lines, standing like statues.

Yu An’s pulse quickened. He had hidden three guns in his bag, but the Underground Metro security had never checked the bags of their own staff. Would the rules be different here? He wasn’t sure.

Sure enough, the bodyguards stopped them. Their eyes flicked over their identity cards, checking the photos before scanning them through a reader, their fingerprints being verified. Only after confirming their identities did they hand the cards back.

So strict. Yu An thought, feeling a pang of regret. I should’ve left the guns at home… but it’s too late now.

The bodyguards meticulously checked their bags, even opening Yu An’s Core Analyzer to scrutinize the Aberrant Cores inside. They compared the number and types, their eyes sharp and unblinking. After a tense moment, they zipped the bags back up and gestured for them to move on.

Yu An was stunned. It seemed guns weren’t considered contraband here?

Ni Lan, appearing unfazed, knew the underground system well. She guided him toward the elevator, pressing the button to ascend. The elevator, a silent and towering behemoth, took them from the -8th floor all the way to the 1st, where the doors opened slowly to reveal a world far more extravagant than Yu An had expected.

The building, far from the dreary underground environment he’d imagined, was a dazzling sight. The gold and bright lights inside were enough to make one forget that they were dozens of meters below ground. The bright glow almost made the reality of their location disappear, drawing them into this otherworldly, luxurious space.

Inside the elevator, another bodyguard stood waiting. With a press of a button, he directed them to the floor where the intern evaluation was being held.

Outside the exam room, a group of ten intern candidates loitered. A few held rolled-up printed materials, pacing nervously while muttering to themselves. By the door, a young man in fiery red sportswear leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his very presence like a crackling flame. The air around him seemed to shimmer, almost scorched, with the plants lining the hallway curling inward, wilting under the heat.

Yu An recognized him. He had met this man briefly before at the Eagle Bureau. The name tag on his chest read “Huo Yangui,” and a blood-red aberrant core was embedded in his throat, pulsing like a burning eye, shifting its gaze from side to side.

Huo Yangui barely glanced at Yu An. His eyes took him in from head to toe before he tilted his chin up with a smirk, an air of superiority radiating from him.

Yu An said nothing, instead pulling out his phone. The message he had been expecting from the interviewer was there.

Boss: Have you arrived? Only examinees are allowed on your floor. I’m in my office. Send me a message when you’re done, and wait for me by the door.

Yu An: I’ve arrived.

Boss: Don’t be nervous. You don’t need to worry about comparing yourself to others. I’m not obsessed with rankings. They’re just an excuse. This group of interns is strong—there’s almost no chance anyone will fail.

“And remember, don’t let anyone know you can change cores.”

The tone was one of eerie certainty, so different from the previous uncertainty. It seemed that the abilities of the interns had already been assessed, perhaps even earlier that morning.

Yu An, familiar with his boss’s confident tone, felt a sudden unease rise in his chest. The familiar cocky attitude of Zhou Ran now seemed almost grating. Without thinking, he shot back a voice message.

*

In his office, Zhou Ran slouched back in his chair, hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. He was exhausted, his mind a whirl of frustration.

“Where did those two old geezers find these interns… One with dual core slots and Silver cores, the other with a mutated Tier 3 Red core. Even the interviewers have been told not to give them any resources,” Zhou Ran muttered, his voice heavy with resignation. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. The exam isn’t the end of everything. Results don’t define a person’s worth.”

Just then, a voice message pinged through.

Yu An: Interviewer, are you looking down on me?