Chapter 83: The Tower Tilts

Ten days later, in Shanghai at precisely 10:20 PM.

“The Bangkok River Mouth in Thailand experienced multiple earthquakes on the 6th local time. Rescue and statistical efforts are largely complete. This natural disaster has injured over two thousand people so far, though fortunately there have been no fatalities…”

The subway entrance was thronged with people jostling shoulder to shoulder, and the faint news broadcast from the speakers went largely ignored. Squeezed onto the escalator amid the crush, Cheng Che struggled her way out the door. Exhausted from a long day, she could barely muster the energy to stay alert—and in that one fleeting moment of distraction on the steps—

“Ah!”

Her heel snapped with a sharp crack, and a wave of weightlessness crashed over her. Cheng Che cried out as she tumbled forward, eyes squeezing shut instinctively. But instead of the cold hard ground, she was caught by something warm.

“Sister, are you okay?”

The slightly worried voice rang clear and bright in her ear. Cheng Che looked up, momentarily stunned.

It was a student.

No reply came for a moment, but Ye Jingqiu didn’t press. She first helped Cheng Che to the side so they wouldn’t block the way, then subtly released her hold before asking in a joking tone:

“Sister, anywhere else hurt? Should I call an ambulance or a taxi—which one’s more appropriate, you think?”

Cheng Che let out an “ah” and waved her hands frantically, expressing her genuine gratitude. “No, no need! I think I just twisted my ankle. Thank you so much—otherwise, I’d probably be heading to the hospital tonight.”

“It was nothing, Sister. No need to stand on ceremony.”

Ye Jingqiu’s tone was light and casual, clearly not dwelling on the matter. Her gaze drifted down to Cheng Che’s shoes, her brows furrowing slightly before she spoke again. “But… Sister, can you still walk?”

Cheng Che followed the high school girl’s line of sight and saw her heel split clean in two, her ankle visibly swollen. She gave a wry smile.

“Probably not right now. I’ll rest a bit and then head to the roadside to wait for a cab. Are you just getting out of school? It’s late—hurry home. And thanks again!”

“Don’t be so polite, Sister. Besides, my parents—my parents probably aren’t worried.” Ye Jingqiu stuffed her earbuds in a little more discreetly, then squatted down without a second thought. “Hold on a sec. My family’s in the shoe repair business. Let me take a look? It’ll be super quick—it’s late already, and we don’t want to keep you out here any longer; it isn’t safe.”

Cheng Che shook her head hurriedly, trying to pull back. “No, no, really, no need! You’ve already helped me out so much tonight… Huh?”

The high schooler in front of her had already stepped back and stood up. Cheng Che quickly looked down at her heel—and found the break seamlessly mended, as if it had never happened, all in just a few seconds.

This kid’s family really does shoe repair?!

What incredible craftsmanship!

Cheng Che looked up in disbelief, meeting Ye Jingqiu’s gaze just as the girl blinked at her, clear black eyes brimming with a gentle, amused smile.

The high schooler spread her hands with a sly grin. “Not fooling you, right? I’ve got a super high credibility score at school—anything I do, I get done fast.”

“Indeed…” Cheng Che flexed her ankle experimentally, puzzled. Was it her imagination, or did the pain feel less sharp now?

“Then rest up, Sister, and get home safe. I’m off—bye!”

Before Cheng Che could test if it was really just her imagination, the farewell rang in her ears. She let out a startled “eh?” and looked up, only to see the high schooler already far down the path.

“Okay! Thanks again—bye!” Cheng Che waved in thanks. The figure in the distance waved back once more, her slender frame soon vanishing into the dense shadows of the trees.

The honking of car horns resumed around her. Cheng Che turned on instinct—and there was the bus she always took, just pulling into the stop!

No time for random thoughts now. She snatched up her bag and hurried toward the stop sign. In that first step forward, her slightly swollen right foot felt as good as new, not hindering her in the least.

Talk about good luck today…

Cheng Che thought.

~~~

Watching Cheng Che board the bus from around the corner, Ye Jingqiu turned with a relieved breath—only for a string of words to burst unexpectedly from her earbuds, delivered in the speaker’s usual flat, inflectionless tone.

“From doctor to pet groomer to cobbler… I didn’t know Team One had switched professions three times.”

Ye Jingqiu paused, then instantly switched to her obedient, sweet-girl voice mod in the next second. “I was just making stuff up on the fly, Captain. Don’t overthink it.”

“It’s not about overthinking.” Shi Zui watched Ye Jingqiu speed toward her destination on the surveillance feed and let out a soft sigh. “You must reach Koda Tower by 10:30. If you switch professions again, the mission will time out.”

“Leave it to me, Captain!” Ye Jingqiu thumped her chest with bold confidence. “This is my first solo mission—I’ll make Team One proud!”

In that instant, the Word of Law that had just fulfilled the repair command activated once more. Ye Jingqiu’s forward speed doubled—no, increased tenfold—as she hurtled ahead in a sprint that would have left any track coach slack-jawed.

The story behind this solo mission was a long one. Ten days prior, she had single-handedly slain Wangliang deep beneath the sea, halting the Divine String Melody’s progress toward destroying Bangkok. That was undoubtedly a major contribution worthy of the Base archives.

But rewards and punishments must be clear-cut. As a key operative in the Submerged Abyss Plan, Ye Jingqiu’s unauthorized dive from the ship the night before had indeed violated the Base Code—no matter how extenuating the circumstances, it had been far too reckless.

It happened to coincide with the end of her six-month probationary period with the team. After two seconds of deep contemplation over this thorny issue, Action Division Minister Yi Fengyan decided that Ye Jingqiu should undertake a C-level task alone, with remote oversight from Captain Shi Zui.

It would test her mission compliance and serve as her rookie evaluation.

Thus, no sooner had Ye Jingqiu finished grading her fresh batch of 72-point math tests than she geared up, hopped on the subway, and headed for Koda Tower.

Tonight’s objective: infiltrate the 32nd floor offices of Zhi Tu Company in the tower, silently crack the safe, and copy a file.

Infiltrating and the short climb weren’t all that difficult. For a mission where the key was avoiding any alarm—especially in Shanghai, China, where guns were virtually nonexistent—even a D-rank rating felt generous.

Was there some trick to this C-level task?

Indeed there was. Half a year ago, a small outfit called Zhi Tu Company had burst onto the scene, throwing money around like water to lease the entire building. At precisely six p.m., they cleared everyone out, cutting power to the elevators and blast doors on the emergency stairs.

Sneaking into the 32nd floor without bothering Zhi Tu meant one path: the exterior windows.

But the 32nd floor was 120 meters up. Special gear might let someone skitter across the glass like Spider-Man, but one misstep spelled tragedy. Scaling the skyscraper played to wind Awakeners’ strengths, while patching the glass seamlessly without a trace was earth Awakener territory.

If the mission demanded a single lead operative, the pickings were slim: Shi Zui or Ye Jingqiu, the only S-ranks packing multiple Instincts.

Ye Jingqiu thought: …It’s like they tailored this mission just for me.

To keep her movements from looking suspicious on camera—Zhi Tu would pull footage if they called the cops, and Hidden Command wouldn’t hold forever—Ye Jingqiu mulled it over and hopped the subway to the site.

Rush hour hit hard, accidents piling up left and right. After casually saving a cat from traffic, Ye Leifeng—the girl with a penchant for playing cobbler—made it just before deadline.

So this was Koda Building?

Ye Jingqiu craned her neck, squinting upward. Tucked in a quieter corner of the city center, the structure skipped the flashy designs of fancier office towers. From outside, it resembled nothing so much as a stack of drab concrete boxes.

“Aether’s best route: scale to the 28th floor, ventilation ducts to the 32nd. The office sits dead center—no clean glass cut.”

Shi Zui’s voice whispered through the earpiece, soft as if loath to rouse the eerily still night.

“Coming from you, Captain, that means you’ve got a better plan!” Ye Jingqiu let out a playful yelp, already layering Hidden Command on herself. An invisible wind field bore her upward along a blind spot.

Shi Zui paused, her desk-tapping fingers stilling.

Back in the day, Xiao Qiu would’ve tossed in a teasing honorific.

Lately, though, Xiao Qiu stuck to “Captain” with a coquettish lilt, her attitude turning downright cheeky. It had ramped up since Bangkok—Xiao Qiu clinging to her at every turn.

Last year, she’d banged out homework in Yan Zhao’s office without a second thought. Now, backpack in tow, she shadowed Shi Zui like a devoted puppy, everywhere the captain went.

All in the name of “learning from the Captain,” of course.

Shi Zui never minded. Truth be told, she loved it. A glance up from paperwork revealed Xiao Qiu scowling or nodding off, her every expression alive with fire—miles from that underwater despair.

She could watch it all day.

The little teammate’s shift was stark enough that Xie Pingzhi had cornered her, whispering if something awful had gone down at sea to explain it.

Sweet, oblivious Xie Pingzhi. Zhou Xianhui, though… yesterday she’d danced around it, gently nudging about Xiao Qiu’s age.

Shi Zui reflected: …Thinking long-term already, Zhouzhou.

She still had too many loose ends.

Ye Jingqiu’s query yanked her back. Captain Shi cleared her throat to mask the lapse and fired over the Koda blueprints.

“Straight to the 31st, southwest corner. Sliding glass panel there—cuts disturbance.”

Shi Zui murmured the tip.

Ye Jingqiu agreed without a map glance, wheeling toward the hundred-meter spire.

Winter gales clawed at her. One-way glass blocked any view inside, so none spotted it: on the 30th floor, blood-red beast eyes locked on Ye Jingqiu, burning with mortal enmity.