Someone had blocked Neta Wave.
Pei Ran stood up in a flash.
The moment she rose, the floor beneath her feet suddenly gave way, flipping open strangely.
That puddle of blood-like paint had been deliberately poured there—the floor had been tampered with.
The fall lasted only an instant. Before she even hit the ground, Pei Ran fired her gun.
There were people below—black-clad royal bodyguards. They likely hadn’t expected Pei Ran to fire without a second of hesitation. One took a shot to the chest and collapsed backward.
Pei Ran rolled as she landed and fired again, this time hitting another bodyguard squarely in the forehead.
She took in her surroundings.
The floor above had already sealed shut seamlessly. This was an underground space, not very tall, filled with pipes of varying thicknesses and colors—likely a utility area beneath the vertical plantation where pipelines ran.
Several large, burly bodyguards stood around the landing spot.
A little farther away, Yu He sat in a wheelchair, his eldest son, Yan Xun, standing behind him.
Whoever had set this trap within Black Well’s system, issued the mission, found a way to bypass W’s surveillance, and laid this trap for her must have had immense connections—access to extremely high-level privileges. Within Black Well, no one but the royal family could have done it.
What was rare was that these blue-blooded nobles hadn’t just sent bodyguards. They had deigned to come personally, crawling into this underground rat’s nest to wait for her. Had they already discovered she killed Xing Wuxian on Lidao?
Even as these thoughts raced through Pei Ran’s mind, she was already back on her feet, her next shot aimed directly at Yu He.
The shot was perfectly lined up—but it never landed.
Something bizarre happened.
Pei Ran felt the finger she had on the trigger suddenly loosen on its own, completely beyond her control.
Her hand opened, and the gun clattered to the ground.
But it wasn’t just her hand that had lost control—other parts of her body followed.
Her arms suddenly jerked outward, as if pulled by invisible strings.
Her legs and feet moved on their own. She turned and took a step forward.
Like a marionette controlled by unseen hands, her joints bent mechanically. Stiff and unnatural, she walked step by step toward the wall, turned to face Yu He, and struck a spread-eagle stance—then froze.
The mastermind sat motionless in his wheelchair, watching her with an inscrutable gaze. On his sallow, thin face, his eyes gleamed with an unmistakable green light.
Yu He actually had supernatural abilities. Yet, there was no red suppression bracelet on his wrist.
Yu He didn’t seem concerned about the bodyguards she had taken down. He only stared at her and spoke, his voice unhurried.
“Did you go to the mining district to look for Kuchi?”
So, it was about File No. 10.
Right at Yu He’s feet sat a white device very similar to Xing Wuxian’s jammer.
The difference was that the umbrella symbol wasn’t lit—instead, another symbol in front of it was active: three concentric short arcs, arranged from short to long like a radio wave, with a lock beside them.
Pei Ran had always assumed the umbrella symbol generated a speaking-enabled shielding layer, while this arc-and-lock symbol likely meant it was blocking Neta Wave.
That was why she couldn’t hear W’s voice.
On the device, the lock-shaped symbol—which Pei Ran had guessed represented supernatural ability suppression—wasn’t lit. Yu He himself was currently using his ability, so of course he wouldn’t deactivate supernatural powers in this area.
What was lit was another symbol beside it: a small human figure with a lock. She had no idea what that meant.
Suddenly, W’s voice sounded in Pei Ran’s ear: “Pei Ran, can you hear me now?”
Pei Ran immediately responded, “Yes. Twelve-petaled…”
“Snowflake.”
“Xingkong recently wanted to see…”
“Hail.”
W had matched the code phrases.
“They’ve blocked Neta Wave in this area again. I couldn’t get through from the outside. But last time, I found a miniature Neta Wave generator and had Qiao Sai install it inside the mechanical spider. The range is limited, but it works at short distances. I’ve already switched over.”
Blocking Neta Wave was military technology, and W understood its principles.
The Neta Wave generator he originally used to communicate with her was too far away and had been jammed. So, he switched signals—first using an unblocked ordinary signal to communicate with the spider, then converting it into Neta Wave via the generator inside the spider to talk directly to her mind.
Last time, in the old mine tunnels, Pei Ran had been caught off guard when Neta Wave was blocked. Learning from that mistake, W had come prepared this time.
Pei Ran said, “Yu He has supernatural abilities. I’m like a puppet—he’s controlling me. I can’t move on my own.”
“I didn’t know about this,” W replied. “When Yu He entered Black Well a few days ago, he was transported in lying on a sickbed. The green light scanning process happened inside the vehicle, not at Black Well’s entrance surveillance. They must have tampered with it.”
Meanwhile, Yu He was still watching Pei Ran intently.
He was silently weighing the possibility—was the item really in her hands?
It had been his idea to send his second son, Xing Wuxian, to Lidao.
Though Yan Xun was obedient, he was far less decisive and efficient than Xing Wuxian. This time, sending Xing Wuxian to interrogate the target on tLidao had been a decision Yu He felt confident in.
And Xing Wuxian had indeed obtained a lead.
Not long after arriving, he sent back a message: the target had been captured and had revealed Kuchi’s whereabouts—she had taken File No. 10 to Black Well in search of a metal wristband.
The fact that Kuchi had undergone plastic surgery was something Yu He had learned even before the silence, along with obtaining her post-surgery photos.
The moment Xing Wuxian relayed the news late that night, Yu He immediately mobilized his connections within Black Well to investigate.
There was no record of Kuchi entering Black Well, but surveillance footage from the temporary refugee shelter in the mining district showed traces of her.
Before dawn, Yu He sent men to the shelter.
They did find something—unfortunately, it was bad news: she was already dead.
The dead were all sent for mass cremation. His men spent an entire day sifting through the bodies and ashes at the incineration site.
A metal wristband wouldn’t burn away—yet, despite combing through the entire facility, they found nothing.
Yan Xun suggested: Could the wristband still be in the mining district, taken by someone else?
That was indeed possible.
His men returned to the shelter, this time focusing on Kuchi’s personal belongings—and made a new discovery.
Last night, they showed photos of Kuchi entering Black Well to people in the mining district, luring them with canned meat. Someone immediately recognized her clothes and backpack, gesturing wildly that they had been piled in a corner.
But that corner was now empty.
Interrogations in the mining district were inconvenient, so Yu He had the witnesses taken to an abandoned mine tunnel overnight, where a shielding layer was activated for questioning.
Their testimonies aligned: Kuchi’s jacket and backpack had been left with a group of people until earlier that day, when someone distributed the items among them.
That someone was none other than Pei Ran, standing before him now.
To make matters worse, this very Pei Ran had recently been to Lidao.
After Xing Wuxian’s last message two nights ago, all contact had been lost—yet Pei Ran had returned safely from Lidao and, immediately after, went straight to the refugee shelter in the mining district.
Yu He strongly suspected the wristband was now in her possession.
With a tilt of his chin, he ordered, “Search her.”
The bodyguard stepped forward and thoroughly searched her, retrieving two blister packs of pills and a pair of black leather gloves used to conceal her mechanical hand.
The chest pocket lay flat—during the fall, the mechanical spider had seized the opportunity to slip away unnoticed, hiding somewhere unseen.
Yu He gestured with his chin. “Check for hidden pockets inside her clothes.”
This one’s better at searching than his son, Pei Ran thought.
The bodyguard was experienced. As he reached into the concealed pockets, his fingers brushed against something—but it wasn’t the wristband. It was a piece of paper.
Unfolding it, the bodyguard approached and presented it with both hands.
Yu He didn’t take it. Instead, Yan Xun, standing behind him, accepted the paper. After a glance, he lowered his voice. “Father, it’s a drawing of you and me… We’re on fire.”
Pei Ran had anticipated this confrontation with the royal father and son. She had carried the drawing with her all along.
The paper was now unfolded, and Yu He stood close enough that, even under suppression, Pei Ran could still activate Green Light No. 2. All she needed was a pen to spin.
W spoke immediately: “Pei Ran, I see a short wooden stick nearby. I can get it to you right now.”
“No use,” Pei Ran replied. “Every part of my body is under his control—I can’t even move a finger. I can’t spin a pen.”
Yu He’s ability was far more formidable than his son’s paralyzing drug.
Yu He stared coldly at Pei Ran and ordered Yan Xun, “Tear it up.”
The carefully drawn depiction of the royal father and son engulfed in flames was promptly shredded into pieces.
Yan Xun’s bracelet vibrated.
After checking it, he leaned in and reported in a hushed tone.
The team searching Pei Ran’s dormitory had turned the small, sparsely furnished space inside out. They found neither the metal wristband nor any other storage device.
Strange, Yu He thought.
“Tell them to keep searching,” he commanded.
He considered the possibility that, after leaving the mining district, she might have hidden the wristband somewhere along the way back to Black Well. If so, no one but her would ever find it.
The solution was simple: interrogation.
Yu He asked, “Do you have it?”
Pei Ran countered, “Have what?”
Yu He ignored her question, his eyes narrowing into glowing green slits.
Pei Ran watched as her elbows bent unnaturally toward her chest. Her right mechanical hand seized the index finger of her left hand—then twisted it backward with a sharp, violent jerk.
A burst of searing pain.
Her left index finger snapped.
Inside Black Well, Pei Ran endured the pain without making a sound.
Cold sweat instantly beaded on her forehead, and her lips began trembling uncontrollably.
She stared fixedly at Yu He.
If she could find a way to break free from his control, she could simply remove the suppression bracelet and activate Green Light.
But Yu He, of course, knew she had supernatural abilities. He also knew that if she managed to take off the bracelet, she could use them. Yet they dared to do this—meaning they must have a way to counter her.
Like that device.
Pei Ran guessed that while Yu He could freely use his abilities, he wasn’t worried about her doing the same. The illuminated icon—a small human figure with a lock—likely suppressed Green Light in a specific target.
Simply removing the suppression bracelet might not be enough.
W’s voice, cold as ice, spoke in her ear: “Pei Ran, I’m mobilizing nearby patrol soldiers to rescue you immediately. I’ve recorded everything—we have evidence of his illegal interrogation.”
Yu He and his men had deliberately disabled the surveillance here. Knowing she could communicate mentally with W, they had carefully blocked Neta Wave signals and set this trap to lure her into this unseen place, thinking they could make her vanish without a trace.
They hadn’t accounted for the mechanical spider with its camera, silently documenting everything.
“No,” Pei Ran replied inwardly. “Don’t call anyone.”
“Pei Ran!”
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she said, “W, be honest—does a place like Black Well, built on privilege, truly have rule of law?”
Black Well’s laws were for ordinary people.
The outcome was predictable: she would suffer for nothing, while Yu He would leverage his connections to evade consequences unscathed.
Even if File No. 10 were made public, Chief Executive Basserway might lose his position—but for Yu He, beyond tarnishing his family’s reputation, the real impact would be minimal.
“Don’t send anyone,” Pei Ran said. “I don’t have time to go to court with the privileged class.”
If Black Well’s rules couldn’t deliver justice, then she would settle this outside them.
Her mind raced, but her lips remained sealed, refusing to utter a sound.
Yu He asked again, “Where is it?”
Her mechanical hand moved once more—this time gripping her left wrist.
Crack.
The sound of bone shattering. White-hot pain seared through her vision.
Amid the blinding white pain, only Yu He’s glowing green eyes remained piercingly vivid.
Suddenly, it struck her.
From the very beginning until now, Yu He had been staring fixedly at her—his gaze never once wavering.
When the bodyguard had handed over the drawing earlier, his path had been oddly indirect, deliberately stepping aside as if to avoid blocking Yu He’s line of sight.
It hadn’t been Yu He who took the drawing to examine it—it was Yan Xun.
The entire time, Yu He’s eyes had remained locked onto her.
W suddenly spoke: “Pei Ran, I’ve observed that Yu He’s gaze hasn’t shifted. It seems he needs to—”
Pei Ran finished the thought: “—maintain visual contact.”
Their conclusions aligned perfectly.
Yu He’s ability to control others appeared to require unbroken eye contact.
Pei Ran: “W, can you cut the lighting in this passage? Once it’s dark, guide me.”
W responded immediately: “I can.”
He added: “After the lights go out, prioritize the bodyguards. Execute now?”
Pei Ran: “Yes. Count me down.”
W began instantly: “Three. Two. One.”
With a sharp click, the lights cut out—plunging the space into total darkness.
Pei Ran’s theory proved correct. The moment the lights died, the oppressive control over her body vanished, and her limbs obeyed her once more.
She moved without hesitation.
A bodyguard stood just two steps to her left. Without needing W’s guidance, she seized his throat and twisted—neutralizing him in a single motion.
Then she whirled toward the second.
Speed was critical. She had to strike faster than they could react.
The blackout had caught them off guard. The second bodyguard barely had time to flinch before her fist connected with his skull—the crack of fracturing bone unmistakable.
The third stood farther away, but in the darkness, the mechanical spider’s vision remained flawless.
W directed: “Five o’clock, two meters. His right hand is reaching for his gun—”
Before he could finish, Pei Ran was already there. She wrenched the guard’s arm, slammed him to the ground, and drove her fist into his skull.
Finally, someone reacted. From Pei Ran’s right rear, a light flickered—a bodyguard had activated his wristband.
Pei Ran didn’t give anyone a chance to see clearly. She lunged, slammed him to the ground, and drove her fist into the wristband.
Darkness swallowed everything again.
The man didn’t even have time to grunt before her mechanical hand snapped his neck.
Four kills in a row—all in mere seconds.
With the armed bodyguards eliminated, only Yu He and his son remained at a distance.
Three or four meters was nothing. In an instant, Pei Ran closed in on Yu He in his wheelchair.
She had to be faster than light itself—strike before any illumination could return.
In the impenetrable darkness she couldn’t see through,
Yan Xun, the crown prince behind Yu He, frantically raised his hand, trying to activate his wristband.
A mechanical spider leaped from the armrest of Yu He’s wheelchair, landing precisely on Yan Xun’s outstretched wrist. Its head extended a sharp probe, stabbing straight into the wristband’s interface.
The darkness held for one critical moment longer—enough for Pei Ran.
The moment the lights died, Yu He knew disaster was coming. He immediately reached for his own wristband.
Something cold and metallic—like a many-legged insect—landed on his wrist. Ignoring it, he mashed the wristband’s controls.
It refused to light up, as if broken.
Stunned, he fumbled for the control panel on his wheelchair armrest.
Strangely, the panel too seemed cursed—utterly unresponsive.
In those few seconds of darkness, a presence closed in. Something icy touched Yu He’s eyelids—then drove inward.
Agony erupted as two mechanical fingers plunged into his eyes.
Yu He thrashed, screaming in continuous, raw pain.
Now he was truly blind.
Pei Ran conducted an experiment she’d long wondered about: could Green Light be forcibly extracted from a living host?
When she’d taken the pen containing Green Light from Shige Ya, it had been external. But if the light was inside a person?
The answer was yes.
As her fingers speared into Yu He’s eyes, a cluster of Green Light surged into her fingertips. The moment it entered her body, the suppression bracelet rendered it dormant.
The exact rules of this forcible transfer remained unclear—under what conditions would Green Light shift allegiance? The underlying principles would require further experimentation.
Pei Ran mentally commanded: “W, lights on.”
The overhead lights blazed back to life, their sterile white glare illuminating the pipe-lined chamber.
The floor was littered with corpses. Among them: a bleeding relic of the fallen dynasty, and his trembling, speechless heir.
Pei Ran withdrew her hand and seized Yan Xun with the other, slamming him face-first against the wheelchair.
Half-measures bred future problems. Roots and all—that was the only way. Her grip closed around his neck. A sharp crack severed the prince’s spine.
Yu He, still clutching his ruined eyes, sensed the wrongness. “What are you doing?!”
“Killing your son,” Pei Ran answered.
She obliged him with specifics: “Shige Ye died by my hand. So did Xing Wuxian. This makes three.”
The emperor’s face contorted into something monstrous. Despite his blindness, he thrashed toward her from the wheelchair, arms flailing. “You damned commoner! I’ll tear you apart—!”
Pei Ran caught his wrist and yanked him from the embroidered seat—that symbol of power stitched with golden fleurs-de-lis. She pinned him beside his son’s corpse.
“The damned ones were never us. It was you.”
Her knee pressed his spine into the floor. One hammer-blow of her fist.
Yu He’s cry cut short as his skull ruptured, painting the concrete in streaks of gray and red.