“Tunqin confessed everything. The Action Division’s special envoy hadn’t even reached the base gates before he started spilling his guts like a machine gun,” Xie Pingzhi said, flipping through her clipboard with a tsk of amazement, still finding it somewhat unbelievable. “With a brain like that, how the hell did he end up as a staff officer?”
Zhou Xianhui took it in stride, her right thumb slowly rubbing the keychain as her expression remained far calmer than Xie Pingzhi’s. “He inherited the job from his father. His dad, Wu Daotuo, is a senior officer in the Yangon Military District command. He pulled every string he could to pave the way for his son, but never imagined Tunqin would go full edgelord and run off to join a cult.”
In Myanmar, adding “Wu” before a person’s name often signaled high status.
Originally, to avoid Tunqin playing tough guy and wasting time, the base had even sent over a few members with Aether-type Instincts to fly to Myanmar. Who would’ve thought the bastard would crack faster than weeds in the Irrawaddy River—shivering and confessing everything by the third day in the branch.
Ye Jingqiu was lounging on the sofa, lazily zooming in and out on a satellite map with Aether to study the contour lines, when she overheard her teammates’ conversation. She tilted her head back slightly, her eyes full of confusion. “So we’re just letting Tunqin go, then?”
“This op was rushed—we didn’t have much time to coordinate. Dao Tuo’s got some pull in Yangon, so hauling the guy in for two days was already a win. Not many people in all of Myanmar even know about the Exotic Beast Handling Base, after all.”
Xie Pingzhi shrugged. “Plus, Myanmar’s politics have been shaky these past few days. No easy way to hold him longer. But don’t worry—the base already gave Dao Tuo a talking-to. Tunqin’ll be getting some serious re-education once he’s out.”
“Tunqin’s not worth much anymore. Keeping him around would just burn through the branch’s rations. A few days from now, the base will send more people to screen things out. For now, we head out to find Pandora’s Key.”
Another voice cut into their conversation. The door swung open in the distance, heavy boots thudding against the tile floor. Shi Zui strode in, fully geared up, adjusting the straps on her gloves with her head down. Her features were stern and icy. “It’s about nine hours by car from Yangon to Bamaw. We leave in half an hour—aim to reach the destination before sunset.”
Shi Zui had switched to combat gear today: a short, pale-green jacket. Her cuffs and pant legs were tied down meticulously, but the new scabbard and holster couldn’t fully hide the cold gleam of metal from her blade. When she looked up, her sharp bone structure took on a wordless ruthlessness, her eyes deep as frozen pools, hard to meet head-on.
Ye Jingqiu and Aether both froze in sync, but before the girl and the cat could get a word out, Shi Zui’s gaze landed on Ye Jingqiu on the sofa. Her tone was even: “Make sure you gear up properly this time. Don’t give the gun barrel a second chance to kiss your forehead.”
“Got it, Captain!” After a beat of silence, Ye Jingqiu jolted upright, leaping off the sofa without another word and bolting into the bedroom nearby. The door slammed shut, muffling the rustle of her changing inside.
Shi Zui’s eyes shifted to Xie Pingzhi, and the base’s resident slacker instantly straightened up.
“Captain, maybe we could try a more peaceful approach?” Xie Pingzhi raised her hands in surrender, still babbling nonsense until Shi Zui shot her another glare. Then she backpedaled fast, spinning around to pack her own gear.
Zhou Xianhui’s heart skipped a beat. Something felt off about Shi Zui today. A suspicion formed in her mind, and she tentatively summoned her elements—
Warning! Warning! Warning!
The elements under her control shattered in an instant, the alarm roaring through her mind with its final message before oblivion.
Shi Zui seemed to sense it. She turned her head, a faint gray like the reaper’s shroud spreading through her dark eyes.
Zhou Xianhui’s guess confirmed, she murmured, “The base’s special envoy brought your sedatives, didn’t they?”
Shi Zui gave a soft hum and said no more.
“What’s going on? I thought even with the memory issues, it wasn’t getting worse anymore. I figured you could quit them for good.” Zhou Xianhui glanced instinctively toward Xiao Qiu’s room, where they could still faintly hear the little teammate bantering with Aether. “A-Xie probably suspects… but you never told Xiao Qiu about this.”
Shi Zui was quiet for two seconds. “I won’t be on them long. I just need to stabilize my Rampage Value right now. It’s not the norm—no need to tell her.”
Zhou Xianhui frowned on reflex. Awakeners had their own ways to vent Rampage Value: A-Xie would free-fall off uninhabited peaks, Professor Loteria’s Room 208 would fill with aromas from every cuisine under the sun when she hit a wall, Professor Yan could churn out straight translations of ten parchment scrolls in a bad mood…
Only Shi Zui. Only Shi Zui took sedatives by mouth.
It had to do with her time in the Project Y, but chugging bottles every year or two still worried Zhou Xianhui to no end.
Zhou Xianhui sighed. “At least give Xiao Qiu the right to know. She’s part of Team One.”
“I’ll think about it,” Shi Zui nodded, brushing the topic aside as she easily hefted the gear case nearby. “Come on. Let’s head out and wait for them.”
“I’ll think about it”—those five words didn’t need translating. They screamed: Fat chance.
No helping it; once Shi Zui set her mind to something, it was set. Zhou Xianhui sighed and followed her down the stairs. They headed straight to the courtyard to prep the vehicles, only to spot a military car pulling up nearby. Members from the Myanmar Branch escorted out a pale-faced Tunqin, and the handover negotiations began.
In the last second before slamming her car door, Zhou Xianhui caught a glimpse of Tunqin, who looked like death warmed over. He’d admitted to being in Messiah for five or six years now, with his main job maintaining the Project Y remnant production sites in Yangon and Bamaw.
The Project Y was nearly a decade old. Why would Messiah bother guarding some abandoned factory sites?
Tunqin clammed up on questioning, only saying he’d had one-way contact with someone codenamed Manwan. The others got it right away—this guy was just a gullible outsider who knew squat.
They’d turned Yangon’s Project Y remnant site inside out already and found nothing concrete. Team One had to shift focus to Bamaw. There, the Irrawaddy River took a sharp westward turn, carving a deep gorge through the limestone deposits. Remote spots like that often hid the real secrets.
Moreover, the elemental concentration in Bamaw was unusually high. The Messiah’s people might very well be there, waiting with Pandora’s Key.
Upstairs suddenly grew lively. A series of crisp thuds—thump thump thump—echoed from the distant stairs as Ye Jingqiu and Xie Pingzhi, acting like a pair of childish brats, scrambled to fling open the car doors.
“I want to sit with Sister Zhong! You backstabbing jerk—don’t even dream of making me give up my seat!”
“Hey, what’s wrong with you taking shotgun?”
“Hey, what’s wrong with you going up front?”
“Fine, fine. You sit in the back first. Zhong Qing and Professor Loteria are still at the hotel. Once we pick them up, you can switch with me.”
“Heh, in your dreams…”
The engine roared to life. Amid Xie Pingzhi and Ye Jingqiu’s playful bickering, the reinforced, steel-plated modified car rolled out through the branch division’s gates.
Tunqin paused just as he reached for his own car door. He narrowed his eyes, staring after the departing vehicle.
He recognized the one who had grabbed him.
“Where are they headed?” Tunqin asked.
A nearby soldier murmured in reply, “From the direction and the look of the vehicle, probably northbound.”
That had to be Bamaw, the place he’d mentioned.
Tunqin let out a cold sneer. He’d never swallowed this kind of humiliation in his life—not just losing face, but taking a beating on top of it. He was an officer on his home turf in Yangon. If he didn’t get revenge, how the hell was he supposed to show his face there again?
Screw the instinct functions and special bases. This was Myanmar. He’d joined Messiah solely to learn how to use illusions—he couldn’t care less about exotic beasts or humans.
No matter how tough an exotic beast’s hide was, could it stop bullets? He didn’t think he needed protecting by anyone.
Tunqin stopped watching the receding car. With a loud bang, he slammed his door shut, deleted his family’s warning texts with an impatient huff, and smirked as he dialed a certain number.
~~~
Sheer cliffs flanked the road, hewn as if by knife and axe, their peaks stabbing into the blue sky and clouds, shattering the heavens into tiny fragments. The twisting single-lane path stretched ahead unimpeded. Beneath the bridge, the southward-rushing river roared like a savage lion, slamming against the rocky walls and vanishing forever downstream.
Shi Zui gripped the steering wheel, her expression calm. Nearly nine hours on the road, and she showed not the slightest hint of fatigue.
Heading along the Yangon River would lead straight through the canal to the mainstream. But upstream along the Irrawaddy River, they’d pass Naypyidaw and Mandalay before reaching Bamaw—already close to the China-Myanmar border.
They were now in what the mundane world called Northern Myanmar, with the Golden Triangle off to their right.
The situation had been tense these past few days. The military had accused the ruling NLD of election fraud, sparking protests across Myanmar’s major cities. The upside was they could move almost freely, without non-awakeners distracted by the scandal getting in the way. The downside was this godforsaken place was utter chaos—a real clusterfuck—leaving the base with no clear way to strike, like a lion swatting at the sky.
Professor Loteria was still admiring the quality of old-pit jadeite from Myanmar; Bamaw lay near the country’s top ten jade mines. Team One’s northward trip to Bamaw suited her wishes perfectly. She could scout the area and see if any mines yielded consistently high-quality jadeite.
Ye Jingqiu yawned in the passenger seat, her eyes sneaking glances at Shi Zui. The ride was getting uncomfortable for her, but the captain had driven nine straight hours without a trace of weariness—her vigor unchanged from that morning.
Aether, serving as navigator, chimed in again. They weren’t far from the address Tunqin had provided. Little Cat bubbled with excitement: “We’re finally almost there, Xiao Qiu! Don’t just shut me off on a whim this time, okay?”
“Depends on the situation,” Ye Jingqiu said, lifting an eyelid and putting on a dramatic show to tease it. “There’s this super annoying pest right next to me, after all—such a chatterbox.”
Aether pouted. “You’re the one who’s even more… Alert! Unidentified convoy carrying heavy weaponry approaching the vehicle fast!”
The warning klaxon blared. Ye Jingqiu’s face changed in an instant. But before Aether could finish, a staccato burst of harsh gunfire erupted outside the windows!
Bullets poured out mercilessly, solid-core rounds whistling toward the tires. In mere milliseconds, however, a wall of scorching black fire erupted from the ground. Terrifying heat blanketed the area as the flames devoured every bullet like a ravenous beast. White steam hissed away, and globs of molten steel sizzled with eerie cries.
“Hold on tight.”
Wreathed in roaring inferno, the modified car surged forward without hesitation. Shi Zui’s calm reminder from the driver’s seat cut through the chaos.
[Instinct Yinghuo, activated.]
