Donahue’s face flickered with shock and suspicion. How did she know he possessed abilities? How did she know he was the killer? She even knew about the stolen goods and their exact location—this surpassed his understanding entirely.
At twelve years old, back at his rural hometown, Donahue had stumbled upon a tunnel deep in a mountain cave. It was formed by bluish-black bones arranged in a rule-bound pattern, with delicate leather-like material squeezed between the bone seams.
The path twisted and turned, rising and falling unpredictably. The walls were embedded with fleshy tumors and pulsing veins of unrecognizable structure and texture, exuding an eerie, malevolent aura. Everything was bathed in a chaotic, mystical mist that shimmered with dim, watery light.
At the end of the path, the floor bones curved downward into a pit. There, they rotated counterclockwise and radiated outward like a centipede coiled into a regular spiral, sending chills down the spine.
In the center of the bizarre patterns lay a hole the size of a bowl. Slender bones were arranged tightly and vertically, extending into the bottomless depths.
A mysterious premonition guided him. An unfathomable desire surged in his heart.
As if possessed, Donahue reached his hand inside, stretching it farther and farther. When his entire arm submerged, his fingertips brushed against something.
Then, he lost his arm… and gained power.
“You think you’re the only one in the world with these miraculous abilities? Sorry to disappoint, but I have them too.”
Ashley took another step forward.
Donahue swallowed hard. As a user himself, he knew the terror of supernatural power all too well. With a mere flick, it unleashed death and destruction—cracking stone, melting metal. No matter how tough human flesh was, it melted like soft cheese under its heat.
His eyes widened as he racked his brain, trying to imagine the Blue-Haired Loli’s abilities. With no basis for guesswork, he could only glean hints from her advancing momentum and oppressive presence.
He concluded that the loli’s power favored close-range combat; otherwise, she wouldn’t try to close the distance!
“Don’t come any closer!” Donahue shouted, his voice fierce but his heart faltering.
Snap!
Ashley took another step!
The light patter of her small leather shoes hit like a sledgehammer on Donahue’s nerves, stretched to their breaking point.
He panted like an ox, eyes flashing with murderous intent. He clenched his fist forward, his voice hoarse and grating. “Take one more step and see what happens! I…”
Before he finished, Ashley stepped forward again!
“Ah—! I’ll kill you!”
Donahue’s taut nerves finally snapped. He let out a roar laced with fear and panic!
A speck of orange-red ignited from the void, rippling with dazzling light, vibrant and captivating. The flame embryo unfurled like a plant sprouting leaves—a nascent, demonic flower bud on the verge of blooming…
At the same moment, the Blue-Haired Loli drew her Finger Gun from her waist!
Gun Counter!
Her slender finger pulled the trigger of death. A transparent line pierced the fiery blossom!
The flame ability, just forming in his palm, shattered instantly and flung backward in a cascade of brilliant, dancing flames!
In a flash, the blaze reversed, surging like foaming peaks, engulfing Donahue and the unlucky bastard beside him.
“Hoo…”
Ashley exhaled softly. Her resolute steps were meant to impose strong psychological pressure on the enemy—I’m closing in on you, and the nearer I get, the more dire your situation becomes. She divided the duel into frames by steps, making it easier to time her moves. Each psychological push built cumulative pressure in stages, synced to her footfalls. Thus, the moment Donahue’s nerves broke was precisely when her foot landed.
To her surprise, however, the arsonist wasn’t burned to death outright. Amid the flames scorching his body, he writhed and screamed, charging toward the nearby dark river!
Splash!
The arsonist plunged into the water, paddling frantically and riding the turbulent current through a natural stone sluice.
“Hmph, trying to escape?”
Ashley reached back and pulled. The Manta Ray Water Lungs unfurled like a hood over her small head. She bit the breathing tube’s end and dove in.
The parrot flapped on the surface for a bit but couldn’t follow, landing on the shore.
At that moment, another person entered the cave—Betty, who had trailed behind.
She had hidden outside and watched for a while. Though she didn’t understand what happened, the explosive roar and oncoming heatwave instinctively terrified her. Only when things quieted did she dare show herself.
The charred corpse on the ground smoked faintly. The blackened, rapidly carbonized shell cracked as it cooled, oozing glaring blood.
A violent urge to vomit surged in Betty’s chest. She clutched her face and looked away, unable to bear the sight.
“Call the police! Call the police!”
The parrot scurried up to her.
“Right, call the police…”
Betty snapped back to reality. Another death—three in total. There was no hiding it anymore.
But the farther she walked out, the more hesitant she became.
Unpayable debts awaited her. Turning herself in meant no chance of recovery for the rest of her life—just a miserable, impoverished existence.
How would those women she’d deceived torment her? Her reputation in the circle was already ruined. The whole circle might band together to undercut her prices, forcing her to take more corner gigs just to survive, starting each day with a humiliating morning lick…
But if she covered it up, she already had her 650-pound cut—heavy little bag of gold coins. In ten days or half a month, she could multiply it several times over. Enough for a lifetime of comfort.
Ashley, submerged in the water, pondered why the bullet hadn’t killed the killer outright. Probably that blind fool blocking his side-front took the brunt of the flame wave, becoming a scapegoat.
What rotten luck today, Ashley thought. Reason told her she shouldn’t pursue but return, seal the cave, and pour tons of cement over it. That would be true despair for Donahue.
But her logic had to stay consistent. She couldn’t play detective then assassin; she wouldn’t be able to report back to the Tribunal big sis.
“Kid, I’m capturing you alive. Next bullet shatters your dog leg. You won’t bleed out—the flames will cauterize the wound.”
Ashley felt no pity for this guy with four murders on his back. He was extremely dangerous; as long as he drew breath, he could unleash supernatural power—like a gas canister ready to explode.
She swam farther. The dark river’s current slowed. Looking around, she saw it was a deep pool where waters converged, halting to rotate slowly.
The bottom was solid rock, eroded by years of flow into intricate caves, most large enough for a person.
Above, the surface glowed ethereal blue-green, dotted with illusory halos from unknown sources.
Ashley navigated the underwater caves. Suddenly, she spotted the arsonist lying relaxed at the bottom, nudged gently by the current. Limbs splayed, muscles slack, he looked unnaturally limp—a corpse, his brief, sinful life ended.
Ashley breathed a sigh of relief. Dead was best; capturing a powered individual was too hard. This world had no seastone-like restraints.
She turned to find her way back, scanning the paths. Unease suddenly welled up.
Sure enough, after trying several channels, none was the original. She was lost!
The cold water sapped her body heat. No time to linger; she surfaced in one breath.
Emerging from the pool, she saw the walls and ceiling studded with fluorite crystals of varying blue-green shades, their geometric beauty dreamlike. Layered carbonate deposits like rock candy accompanied them—the source of the underwater glow.
So cold!
Ashley hugged her arms, her small body shivering uncontrollably.
Her clothes were soaked; wearing them would hasten hypothermia. She stripped bare, shook off the water like a cat, then pulled a concentrated nutrient crystal from “Sweet Home”—stripped from the C-grade relic—and popped it in her mouth.
The cloying sweetness and high-protein fats brought euphoric pleasure across her tongue—addictively satisfying. Too bad Sweet Home wasn’t here; slipping inside would be like crawling into a warm bed.
