The moment Pei Ran entered the room, she had already assessed the situation inside.
It was obvious who Lu Ming would target next. Nan Yi and Abu were no match in combat, so Lu Ming would undoubtedly come for her first.
She dove to the side.
Green Light No. 1 had just been used and was temporarily unavailable, but Pei Ran had other options.
The ability of Green Light No. 3 was to control others’ supernatural powers.
Back in the mine tunnels, she had used No. 3 to control Inaya’s hypnosis ability—the one with the parrot. Besides that, she had also seen You Lianka use it to control Inaya and Ai Xia.
However, when she had previously tried to control Team Leader Li and Abu’s abilities, it hadn’t worked.
Over the past few days, Pei Ran had carefully reviewed everything and arrived at a hypothesis.
Perhaps the prerequisite for using No. 3’s control ability was having actually witnessed the target use Green Light themselves.
Right now, Lu Ming’s Green Light was blatantly glowing at his fingertips as he formed a sword seal, ready to kill—perfect for testing her theory. As she lunged aside, Pei Ran immediately activated Green Light No. 3.
Instantly, she felt it clearly—as if a speck of green light had materialized at the tip of her left finger.
Green Light No. 3 was working. She could sense Lu Ming’s ability.
In that split second, Pei Ran willed the green light at her fingertip to redirect toward Lu Ming himself.
Something miraculous happened.
The moment Lu Ming completed his sword seal, he swung it toward Pei Ran—but midway, his elbow abruptly bent on its own, twisting his hand back and angling the seal toward his own chest.
A beam of white light shot from his fingertip, bright as a finely honed blade.
But what happened next was even more eerie.
Lu Ming had fired at himself at point-blank range, yet at the last possible moment, his upper body twisted backward in an unnatural motion. The white light narrowly grazed past his chest and pierced through a crate on the shelf behind him.
He had dodged it.
The green light still lingered at his fingertips—his ability might have leveled up, meaning he could attack more than once. Pei Ran’s Green Light No. 3 was also still active.
Having missed the first strike, she immediately tried again.
Lu Ming’s hand, still forced into the sword seal, moved once more as his elbow bent, directing his fingertip back toward his own chest.
This time, Pei Ran saw despair in his eyes.
The white light flashed out, following the path of his fingertip—slanting straight through his chest.
A mouthful of blood gushed from Lu Ming’s lips, splattering onto the floor.
He raised his eyes, staring at Pei Ran with utter disbelief.
In the last moments before death, one thought still lingered in his mind: This Pei Ran—her ability is definitely not the “Collapse State” she claimed.
Since when could a so-called “Collapse State” ability make someone kill themselves?
When Lu Ming had set out this time, he never imagined things would end like this.
His combat skills had always been exceptional, making him one of FBSMD’s top operatives over the years. Coupled with his supernatural ability, he was practically unstoppable.
This rescue mission was supposed to be routine.
But before departure, someone had approached him.
People from Basserway’s faction.
Their demand was simple: The moment you see Nan Yi, eliminate him immediately. Under no circumstances can he be brought back to Black Well.
In the years leading up to the Silence Outbreak, Lu Ming had handled plenty of shady jobs for them. They always kept their word, paying him handsomely—sums so large they were staggering.
Now, in Black Well, where the political landscape was volatile and FBSMD was caught between military and government factions, the future looked grim.
He had to pick a side. Basserway’s group had dirt on him from past operations. Lu Ming had no choice.
He agreed.
Basserway’s contact mentioned they had inside intel: Marshal Vina’s faction was also sending someone—a captain named Zachary.
With one of Vina’s men in the mix, it would be harder to act. He had to be dealt with first.
Outside Black Well, eliminating someone was all too easy.
On the flight over, they had encountered seagull hybrids midair and made an emergency landing on the beach. From the pilot’s seat, Lu Ming spotted two more.
Their sharp, harpoon-like heads gleamed as they bulleted toward the aircraft.
Lu Ming calculated their trajectory and flung the hatch open.
The hybrids were targeting him in the cockpit, but Lu Ming had his own methods.
Aside from the sword-seal Green Light, he had secretly acquired another ability during a past mission—a special Green Light taken from some unfortunate soul.
From what he’d deduced, its function was evading physical attacks.
Extremely useful.
Often, before he even registered the danger, his body would dodge on its own.
Beyond passive evasion, there was also active deflection.
If he consciously redirected danger while evading, he could transfer any incoming attack to someone nearby.
There were directional and distance limitations to this deflection, but after some practice, Lu Ming had mastered it effortlessly.
So when the aircraft landed and the door opened, as the seagull hybrids charged in, Lu Ming dodged in an instant—and smoothly deflected the threat to Captain Zachary, who was seated in the back.
Just like that, Zachary was eliminated. Easy.
Aside from Zachary, there was another problem in the team: Abu.
Having worked together at FBSMD’s headquarters for years, Lu Ming was well aware of Abu’s prophetic abilities.
Her foresight was incredibly useful, often warning of dangers in advance, which was why Lu Ming had always been happy to bring her on missions.
Abu had joined FBSMD right after graduation, following him loyally, respecting and trusting him wholeheartedly. In turn, Lu Ming had always looked out for her. They’d been through life-and-death situations together, completing countless missions side by side.
For someone like Nan Yi, Lu Ming hadn’t planned to kill Abu. He just needed to ensure she wouldn’t catch on.
The first rule: Never touch her.
Luckily, over the years, precisely because he disliked her glimpsing his secrets, he had made a habit of avoiding physical contact. So it wouldn’t seem strange now.
Without direct contact, Abu couldn’t see future events where she wasn’t present. That meant he had to make sure she wasn’t around when he killed Nan Yi.
Lu Ming came up with a simple solution—injure her.
The opportunity arrived quickly.
Inside Nan Yi’s villa, when that crossbow bolt (forgotten with its trigger still armed) shot toward them, Lu Ming stepped forward—then activated deflection, sending it straight into Abu’s leg behind him.
Her injury was serious enough to keep her confined upstairs. She wouldn’t be coming down anytime soon.
Perfect. He could take care of Nan Yi in the toolroom undisturbed.
But plans never survive first contact. Just as he’d finally shaken off Ueno Tōru, the Collapse janitors stormed in.
Though deranged, they weren’t stupid. Having seen Uncle He manipulate the courtyard gate’s mechanism during the day, they mimicked it and broke through the main entrance with their entire horde.
The frenzied janitors weren’t particularly lethal, hardly a concern. In the chaos, it was actually an ideal chance to kill Nan Yi.
Nan Yi, believing him part of the rescue team, was completely unsuspecting. Just as Lu Ming was about to strike, Captain Mia suddenly appeared.
Seeing the janitors invade the villa, Captain Mia grew visibly tense—and impossible to shake off, no matter what.
Lu Ming felt a headache coming on.
Would he have to kill Mia too?
The problem was, when Abu was injured in the afternoon, Captain Mia had made physical contact with her. That meant Abu might have already glimpsed Captain Mia’s future.
Killing Mia now would reveal everything to Abu—and he would no longer be the respected team leader she had always looked up to.
As frustration gnawed at him, a dark thought crystallized in Lu Ming’s mind.
The root of all his troubles was Abu.
Keeping a prophet by his side meant constantly walking on eggshells. Why not take this opportunity to eliminate her as well?
Her precognitive ability was useful. Why not take it for himself? It would be far more convenient that way.
His decision was made.
Abilities had usage limits. Seizing the moment when Mia turned away, Lu Ming fired a silenced shot into her back.
The villa was in chaos. The noise from the deranged janitors would muffle the gunshot, and while using a gun left evidence, the toolroom was full of cabinets. Stashing a body here would buy him time—who would even care in the long run? Outside Black Well, death was everywhere. No one would investigate.
But then Pei Ran and Abu suddenly arrived.
Abu could be dealt with later. Pei Ran, however, was highly skilled and had her own ability. Lu Ming didn’t underestimate her—he immediately activated his sword seal.
Yet today, his ability refused to obey. Again and again, it turned against him.
As the sword-light pierced his chest, he caught a glimpse of the green glow Pei Ran had mentioned.
Could she… control others’ abilities?
Before he could process the thought, darkness swallowed his vision. His body collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud.
The rescue team had turned on each other, dying one after another—faster than shrimp tossed into boiling oil.
Nan Yi was utterly terrified. Clutching Nan Xuan, he hid behind a tool rack, too afraid to move.
Pei Ran stepped over to Lu Ming’s corpse and bent down.
The green light at his fingertips had vanished.
By now, she was experienced. She traced her hands up his arm, then to the wound on his chest—still no sign of the green light.
She reached into the gash in Lu Ming’s chest.
After some probing, a cluster of green light finally surged into her.
The moment it entered, Green Light No. 1 eagerly rushed forward, ready to devour it whole.
Once again, Pei Ran held it back.
The duck served to its mouth had flown away again. Green Light No. 1: “Wuu—”
The moment Green Light No. 1 approached, it immediately opened its “mouth,” confirming that Lu Ming’s sword-seal green light—just like Ai Xia’s hand-seal variant—was indeed a violent, offensive Collapse State ability.
Pei Ran didn’t withdraw her hand. Instead, she probed deeper into the wound, carefully searching.
There had to be another green light hidden in Lu Ming’s body.
Back in Black Well, before their departure, he’d claimed his ability was a “Collapse State.” Pei Ran could tell he was lying.
The past two days had been bizarre. She’d personally witnessed him eerily dodging three attacks—especially earlier, when he’d twisted away from the sword-light she’d redirected. His speed and unnatural movements defied logic.
He must have had a dedicated evasion ability.
Her fingertips brushed past viscera until—there.
A second, faint green light slipped out of Lu Ming’s body and into her finger.
Tiny and timid, it immediately bumped into Green Light No. 1.
No. 1 circled it once, then walked away, disinterested.
This was an Order State ability—inedible to No. 1.
Pei Ran attempted to activate it. A flash of green light later, it entered a “ready” state but remained inert.
A passive skill, it seemed.
W’s voice murmured in her ear: “Pei Ran, I was right.”
Pei Ran: “Hm?”
“I told you Lu Ming wasn’t a good person.”
This time, Pei Ran genuinely hadn’t seen it coming. “And how did you figure that out?”
W’s reply was solemn: “Intuition.”
Pei Ran: An AI’s intuition. How… niche.
W adopted a grave, mentor-like tone: “So next time you encounter someone like him—decent-looking, icy, aloof—especially be cautious.”
Pei Ran: “Got it.”
Then, casually: “W, random question—does your virtual room have a mirror?”
A beat of silence. W understood. “Thank you for the compliment on my appearance. But I’m not like them.”
Pei Ran: “True. You talk more.”
W: “……”
Pei Ran continued bantering with W as she straightened up, stepping around the tool rack to face Nan Yi.
Nan Yi stared at her, his face a mask of wariness and fear—Lu Ming might have been a traitor, but this girl digging through a corpse’s wound with her bare hands wasn’t exactly reassuring either.
It suddenly struck Pei Ran: Nan Yi didn’t understand Morse code. Complex communication was impossible.
To convey goodwill, she reached out and patted his shoulder.
Her blood-smeared palm left a crimson print on his shirt. Nan Yi looked even more terrified.
Abu limped over as well.
Her expression was eerily calm, showing little reaction to Lu Ming’s betrayal or Pei Ran’s counterkill.
This was a future she’d already participated in. She’d likely seen it all before even turning the doorknob.
After a brief glance at Lu Ming’s body, Abu bypassed him and pulled up her wristband’s holographic screen, sketching with quick, deft strokes.
Her artistic skill was undeniable. In moments, she’d outlined a sleek aircraft—through its windshield, Pei Ran could be seen piloting, with Abu and Nan Yi seated behind.
W murmured: “Look at the aircraft she drew.”
Pei Ran: “It’s Xing Wuxian’s.”
The rendering was minimalist but distinct: longer and more aerodynamic than the one they’d taken to Lidao, unmistakably the Black Falcon S801 parked in Xing’s estate.
The keycard for it still sat in Pei Ran’s pocket.
Abu had foreseen this too.
Pei Ran thought: With Lu Ming dead, no one can repair our original aircraft. If we want to leave Lidao, we have no choice but to follow Abu’s predicted path.
Abu’s prophecies seemed limited to near-future events, but at least this confirmed they’d reach the aircraft.
Nan Yi studied the drawing, then the two women before him. Understanding dawned—they intended to take him with them.
His safe haven had been breached by the frenzied janitors. Staying was no longer an option.
He nodded.
Pei Ran hooked Abu’s arm over her shoulder while Nan Yi gripped Nan Xuan’s hand. Together, they moved toward the door—
Then Pei Ran paused, glancing back at Abu.
This time, they’d tread exactly along the path of her prophecy, branch by chosen branch.
Abu stood by the door, her head slightly tilted and eyes lowered, as if sensing the outside through some peculiar perception.
After a minute or two of silence, she suddenly reached out and pulled the door open.
The moment they stepped out, Pei Ran caught a glimpse of a deranged janitor darting past a room up ahead, slipping inside just in time.
Abu pointed forward, and the group moved quietly down the hallway.
The janitor was inside the room, his arm elongated into an oversized pair of pruning shears, which he swung wildly at anything in sight.
With one snip, a chandelier came crashing down, crystal shards scattering across the floor. Just as the four of them passed the doorway, the janitor turned away—toward the curtains.
The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The janitor’s back remained to the door as Abu calmly led the way. Pei Ran couldn’t help but appreciate the convenience.
Not even a fight needed.
At the end of the hall was the ground-floor foyer. This time, Abu gestured toward the main entrance.
Without hesitation, Pei Ran supported her and headed straight for the door.
Nan Yi stared at them in disbelief, as if they’d lost their minds—the yard outside was swarming with crazed janitors, yet these two planned to stroll right out the front door.
Abu paused at the threshold, eyes shut, waiting again in silence.
Pei Ran understood: she was calculating the outcome of every possible exit timing.
She can use her precognition this frequently?
Finally, Abu moved, pushing the door open with eerie calm.
Upstairs, a janitor had snipped through several curtains, allowing villa light to spill into the yard, illuminating the scene.
A janitor stood right beside the entrance—the one with a single giant eye and a penchant for crunching garbage in its jagged maw. But as they slipped out, it happened to turn toward the garden wall, plucking a withered leaf from the bushes with its claw-tipped grabber, oblivious.
Abu raised a hand, directing them toward the gate.
Nan Yi’s expression was pure existential shock, but he’d learned his lesson—silently gripping Nan Xuan’s hand, he followed without protest.
Near the open gate, three more janitors lurked. Slipping past all three undetected seemed impossible.
Yet Abu strode forward, unwavering.
The first janitor bent over, meticulously wiping individual blades of grass with a rag.
The second turned to fill a bucket from the wall spigot, intent on washing the dirt out of a flowerpot.
The third suddenly hugged a statue, licking its stone head with a grotesquely long tongue.
And just like that—under the janitors’ very noses—the group flowed out the gate like water.
Nan Yi’s mind short-circuited. This couldn’t be real.