Chapter 69: Meteor

“In Team Two, there really is no one who can beat your Sister Li Yuan. She is indeed quite strong,” Fang Qi said.

This remark was not just him hyping Li Yuan up. Compared to himself and Zhou Liao, whose Syndromes were unsuitable for real combat, Li Yuan’s Syndrome was much more useful. As Yu Mi put it, it was the most perfect, most ideal Syndrome for an Executor. Offensive and defensive switching was flexible and versatile. It was powerful, yet it also allowed for holding back in time, unlike Sang Liao’s Syndrome, which was difficult to control its force. Moreover, she had contracted the Syndrome early on in middle school. Whether in terms of experience or natural talent, aside from Yu Mi, there truly was no one in Team Two who could rival her. But even Yu Mi wouldn’t dare claim he could definitely kill Li Yuan in an unrestricted, real fight.

“What is Sister Li Yuan’s Syndrome?” Qi Xin asked, her expression looking somewhat curious.

As soon as she spoke, she felt a distinct touch on her left shoulder, as if someone had gently patted her. Slightly puzzled, she turned her head to look behind her to the left—the street was empty, not even a silhouette.

She turned back around to see Li Yuan pressing both hands on the trunk, closing it. Yet, at the back of Li Yuan’s neck, she glimpsed a shadow rapidly retracting. The shadow looked like an arm, covered in long, deep-black hair, its slender, long limb somewhat terrifying. After retracting the arm, Li Yuan turned around, pursed her lips, and didn’t speak, only observing Qi Xin’s expression.

“Is this a manifestation of the Syndrome?” Qi Xin noticed Li Yuan’s gaze. Her expression didn’t change; she showed no fear or disgust. It was as if Li Yuan was just showing her an ordinary object. She asked calmly, “It looks like… an arm?”

Li Yuan quietly sighed in relief and smiled. “When I’m not actively using my Syndrome, it’s just a normal part of my body.”

“A part of your body?” Qi Xin asked thoughtfully. “You mean, normally it’s always hidden behind your back?”

“Just like this.”

Li Yuan slightly lifted her chin, revealing her fair neck. What happened next made Qi Xin involuntarily hold her breath. The hand covered in dark, deep-black hair appeared to move in a skipped frame, quietly and rapidly coiling up from the back of her neck like a snake. Its knuckles were thick, its posture eerie, tightly constricting Li Yuan’s fair, slender neck, as if at any moment it would suddenly exert force and snap that fragile neck. The scene was truly impactful. It was like the circus game where a beautiful lion tamer puts her head into the lion’s gaping maw. Beauty and ugliness, white and black, fragility and strength—the contrast was intense and vivid.

Qi Xin fixed her gaze on the terrifying, monstrous hand. After careful observation, she realized it wasn’t quite a hand, more like a claw—a massive beast’s claw with flexible joints, capable of grasping. As if realizing something, she asked, “The form of that hand… can it extend and expand?”

Her wording was very tactful, but Li Yuan still understood her meaning. She nodded. “For my current state, I can probably transform about half of my body’s form. While maintaining clear rationality, the enhanced parts gain a massive, leap-forward advantage. For example, in a standard physical test, my 400-meter time is one minute and six seconds. But if I transform into the monster, that number is controlled within twenty seconds… roughly on par with a cheetah.”

Qi Xin nodded. She began to understand why Fang Qi always said that, from every aspect, Li Yuan was the ideal Executor in the higher-ups’ minds. It wasn’t just her outwardly gentle appearance, but also the “pursuit of self-control” in her own abilities. It was perfectly politically correct. For those people, Li Yuan’s form was likely the ideal Executor image they hoped for: a loyal hound that was gentle and approachable, wouldn’t bite its owner, yet could bare its fangs when hunting.

“I understand now, roughly,” Qi Xin said. “Just one more question… I saw the entrance to that building is sealed with cement. How do we get inside?”

“That’s not a difficult problem,” Li Yuan pondered for a moment, then asked, “Are you afraid of heights?”

“…That question makes me a little uneasy,” Qi Xin paused, the fear of being dominated by Tian Xi resurfacing. “Can I know your plan first, Sister Li Yuan?”

“Climb up,” Li Yuan pointed to the building, which looked at least thirty stories tall, and said, “I’ll carry you, so don’t worry.”

Qi Xin suppressed the urge to say something else, just took a deep breath, and grabbed Li Yuan’s hand. “I’m ready.”

But Li Yuan let go of her hand.

“I’m not carrying you with this hand,” Li Yuan said seriously. Qi Xin suddenly felt a warm touch at her waist. Before the shiver ran its course, the fur-covered claw seemed to grow even larger, completely gripping her waist. It lifted her like pulling up a scallion. The strength wasn’t great; it was careful. Qi Xin could even feel something akin to gentleness from that monstrous claw. “I can’t climb upwards using only one hand.”

Hyena sat on the collapsed, twisted iron gate, gazing into the long, pitch-black corridor outside. The flashlight on his left shoulder pierced the cold air, revealing the drifting dust particles in the corridor without any reservation. He reached out and adjusted the mask on his face. It was a mask drawn in greasepaint. Under that girl’s brush, the word “lifelike” became reality. The lines and colors twitched and shifted, changing with the artist’s state of mind.

He silently took a deep breath, momentarily dazed. Even he hadn’t imagined that the grand feat of “forcibly breaking into the Su Family” would actually be accomplished by them. Perhaps it had been him making excuses for his own cowardice all along, imagining those old bastards as being too omnipotent. Thinking about it carefully, the logic was flawed. If those major families truly possessed such terrifying power, why would they grovel and bend the knee to those Black Dogs?

He gripped his slightly trembling right hand and placed it on the silver pendant at his chest. It was a cross made from a paperclip. He bowed his head, murmuring, praying. His somewhat gaunt back could no longer hide his trembling. He even suspected that Parrot had seen through his feigned composure and hadn’t exposed him only out of respect for his pride. She had always been very perceptive.

“Green Spider, can you see this?” he muttered. His slightly cold, trembling fingers pressed against the silver cross on his chest. He felt a trace of warmth, so faint it was almost nonexistent, perhaps just his illusion. He slowly said, “This is just the beginning… Don’t comfort me. I won’t be afraid of those guys… They can’t scare us. We’ll unite. No one can scare us… Even if those bastards use the most despicable methods, it’s the same. Don’t let them make us fear, don’t let them make us submit…”

He closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and once again said to himself that phrase. That phrase Green Spider had said countless times, that slightly corny phrase. Every time Green Spider said it, he was so spirited and high-spirited, so cool and manly. He felt he might never be able to be as good as Green Spider… but he still spoke that phrase.

“Paper Cutter, Greasepaint, Dry Wood, Parrot, Hyena, Green Spider—not a single one of us was born to cry and starve…” He enunciated every word, grinding his teeth, the force so deep it was as if he wanted to turn each syllable into a nail, hammered firmly into the deepest part, impossible to pull out. “They see us as filthy rats in the sewers. They slander and vilify us. They want us to just sink into decline… No, absolutely not. We absolutely won’t let them have their way. We absolutely won’t choose to escape and muddle through life, and we absolutely won’t choose to give up and wait for death…”

His voice was very soft. He closed his eyes.

“Now, we will become meteors.”

“Boss,” Parrot, who was crouching by the wooden frame filming, suddenly looked up, her expression anxious. “Greasepaint says a Black Dog is coming up!”

The word “Boss” was spoken in a young girl’s clear voice. But the second half, “a Black Dog is coming up,” changed to an old, frail granny’s voice, sounding like she was still wearing dentures.

He was slightly stunned and opened his eyes, his brows unconsciously furrowing. “How did they get in? Weren’t all the entrances completely sealed?”

He had buried that entrance under nearly thirty tons of cement. Even a mortar wouldn’t be able to blast a path. It was absolutely impregnable and indestructible! How could those Black Dogs cross that obstacle? And right now, the first through fifth floors of the building were still on fire, the elevators were without power. Could that Black Dog actually climb up through the burning fire escape? What kind of superhuman was this?

Parrot spoke again, a bit embarrassed, her voice now changing to a somewhat simple-hearted woman’s voice, her Mandarin not very standard, carrying a slight Pingjiang accent. “Boss… Greasepaint says the Black Dog climbed up from the outer wall.”

“Climbed up from the outer wall?” Hyena paused.

Parrot nodded. “She bypassed the burning floors, broke a window, and got in only after reaching the fifth floor.”

“I told you, building a Maginot Line wasn’t a good idea,” Dry Wood drawled, his voice also very young. “Too bad no one listened to me. Boss, after this stunt we just pulled, those Black Dogs probably won’t treat us like child’s play anymore. It’s not gonna be solved by just lying low for a few days.”

“How about not starting the pressure and making me rage-quit right away? We’re a team, right? Can we please be a bit more team-spirited?” Paper Cutter sighed. “Parrot, ask Greasepaint which Black Dog is coming. We could set an ambush. So what if they’re a Black Dog? Can one person really beat all four of us?”