Chapter 75
by Need_More_SleepChapter 75: The Ten-Meter Greatsword
“Who the hell made this mold? It’s even uglier than the ones I make.”
“Don’t come over, don’t come over… damn it!”
“This damn thing actually waited for the White Whale to arrive before coming upstairs!”
Watching Yiwen follow her into the windmill, Shen helplessly closed the laptop that had already auto-decrypted half its contents. She removed her glasses—completely out of place in this rural setting—and stowed them away before peeling off her leather gloves.
As she did so, a faint pink mist of scales scattered into the air, dissipating almost instantly.
Of course, only the visible color vanished. In reality, the particles had already spread to every corner of the windmill.
A self-healing ability user—she belonged to the rare category that relied on substances toxic to ordinary people to achieve advanced regeneration. Or, more accurately, she was a hybrid of healing and viral-type abilities.
Every pore on her body, except those on her head, constantly secreted a paralyzing neurotoxin. Beyond that, her constitution made her nearly immune to all poisons.
By absorbing certain microorganisms, she could alter the effects of her secretions, continuously enhancing her physical capabilities.
She could even manipulate her own toxins remotely—this was how she controlled the “Sentinels”. Even so, without her specially designed bodysuit, a single minute of exposure would be enough to wipe out an entire city block. Microorganisms weren’t a unified entity, controlling them wasn’t that simple.
Her blood, sweat, urine, even the warmth of her breath—all carried chemical potency. Pure science and absolute madness.
Her self-healing was rated LV4, but classified under viral abilities, it only earned an LV3 rating. What truly made her stronger was her ever-expanding knowledge and the variety of toxins she’d experimented with to enhance her capabilities.
“BANG! CRASH!”
The sound of destruction echoed from downstairs—likely the White Whale finishing off that puppet.
These things, lacking clear organs or structure, couldn’t truly be “killed.” The police only managed to “kill” them by reducing them to an immobile state, forcing their controllers to abandon them.
The toxin Shen had just released was only meant to kill the bacteria on that puppet, preventing it from reaching her.
Yet, despite that, Yiwen’s voice still rang out from the stairwell:
“What are you doing here?”
“These nosy Foboler…”
“This windmill is mine. I should be asking you that.” Shen deliberately adopted a guarded tone, her hand resting on a nearby pitchfork like a vulnerable woman confronting a suspicious intruder.
Given that the only people who dressed like Yiwen were either feds or supervillains, her reaction was perfectly normal. This girl had never seen her before—playing the innocent was the best option.
Sure, her own bodysuit was also out of place, but the world was full of eccentrics. Some dressed weirdly by choice, others out of necessity due to their abilities.
“Federal police.” Yiwen flashed her badge, scrutinizing the woman. Behind her mask, her eyes narrowed slightly.
A bad sense of direction didn’t mean a bad memory. True, she’d only glimpsed that black-haired girl twice and failed to recall her face, but if that same girl stood before her in different clothes, she’d recognize her instantly. Black hair, blue eyes, that delicate yet icy face—still not fully matured, but striking.
Officer Chen had shown her this woman’s photo just two days ago. Even after ten years, her facial structure was still recognizable. In a world where hair came in every color, identification was a little easier.
Without another word, Yiwen slammed her with crushing gravity. Shen’s laptop sank into the hay beside her, but she’d been prepared. She flipped backward out the window just as the intensified force smashed her downward.
“THUD!”
The twenty-meter drop from the tower left her unharmed—her landing was controlled, and her reinforced bodysuit wasn’t just for show. Her body had long since transcended the ordinary.
She’d already been using her ability on Yiwen the moment the girl stepped upstairs, but even her pore-penetrating toxins had no effect. Clearly, Yiwen’s power blocked them.
The second she hit the ground, Shen drew a miniature pistol from her boot seam and aimed upward. Yiwen, usually confident in her own abilities, quickly altered her trajectory midair when she saw the weapon’s energy buildup.
But she hadn’t expected this sneaky bastard to be holding not a laser gun, but a ridiculously cool ten-meter-long lightsaber—one that could actually be swung.
A gun-shaped lightsaber? What kind of cheap trick was this?
From below, Shen didn’t need to swing fast—the tip of the blade moved at a speed Yiwen couldn’t dodge.
“SHING!”
Yiwen’s left arm was severed clean at the shoulder.
The longer the weapon, the faster the tip.
This “gun” fired some kind of energy beam—one Yiwen couldn’t deflect. Even now, Shen hadn’t entered her effective range.
Yiwen’s ability only allowed her to manipulate gravity and directional force.
Who the hell brings a ten-meter lightsaber to a superpower fight?!
“Tch—!”
This hurt even worse than when that little bitch had hit her weak point. Her arm hit the ground before she did. Teeth clenched, mind blank.
She barely managed to control her descent and land safely.
Aside from her powers and her guts in facing down criminals, Yiwen was, in every other way, just a normal fifteen-year-old girl. She didn’t have the superhuman endurance of action heroes who kept fighting after taking multiple bullets.
She didn’t have some hidden bloodline that activated near death. Like most people, when injured, she clutched her wound, shivering, her body going weak. How could she fight back now?
How does this kind of unscientific weapon even exist?!
Gritting her teeth, Yiwen tried pushing herself up with one arm, only to realize losing a limb messed with her balance far more than she’d expected.
Seeing Yiwen was in no state to pursue her, Shen saw no need to finish her off. Not when the girl had such a troublesome father.
The wound was cauterized—no risk of bleeding out. With modern medicine, as long as you had the money, you could regrow lost limbs without even a scar.
If you had the money.
Injecting a paralyzing toxin into Yiwen’s wound to ensure she stayed down, Shen skirted just outside the girl’s five-meter ability range—exactly outside it—and returned to the windmill. Yiwen’s eyes widened.
She knows my effective distance. But that’s classified intel.
Shen retrieved her laptop and poked at the puppet’s remains.
As expected, inside was a small black box—the thing that had been blocking her signals.
How ironic. It was the same model she’d used when puppeting a fake to attack Mi.
Easter’s technology.
There’s a mole.
“Goodbye, Riels’ daughter.” Shen gave a final wave before vanishing into the cornfield.
“You—” Despite the paralysis, hearing that name sent a jolt through Yiwen. Fighting through the numbness, she pulled a metal tennis ball from her coat. The anesthesia didn’t seem to be working well.
This woman knows my father. Can’t let her escape.
Some people just couldn’t resist a final taunt when they’d already won.
Yiwen flicked the ball forward.
“WHOOSH—!”
Like a cannon shot, it tore through the air, obliterating a dozen corn stalks before smashing through Shen’s ribs and puncturing a lung. The force was anything but standard fed procedure.
“F*ck—!”
The impact sent Shen flying nearly ten meters before she hit the ground. The ball was lodged deep in her organs.
Suppressing the pain, she drew a knife, sliced open her flesh and lung, dug out the ball, then yanked out the broken rib with her bare hands before resetting it to heal.
Even with rapid regeneration, regrowing organs and bones drained energy fast. She’d be weakened for a while.
How was she still moving? That dose should’ve knocked out a first-time user instantly. I’ve never used it on her before.
Now she was sure—this was sabotage. Someone in the organization was targeting her.
Riels’ daughter, huh? A damn metal ball hit like armor-piercing rounds. If she’d opened with that as a sneak attack, it’d have been a nightmare.
After her last run-in with the Multitool, Shen’s bodysuit had been upgraded—ordinary bullets couldn’t pierce it now.
Twenty seconds later, her wounds were healed. She didn’t bother with Yiwen again, instead saturating the cornfield with toxins from her bleeding wound before fleeing through the stalks.
Whether the girl could still move or not, the files said that in moderately complex terrain, a few quick turns would shake her off.
“White Whale, bite down on something! Don’t swallow your tongue—medics are on the way.” The comms finally crackled back to life.
The ambulance, which hadn’t gone far, turned around.
“I’m fine… She used a local anesthetic. Weak effect—probably the same one from last time. It was her who attacked me before. Kill her!”
A direct accusation, pinning the blame squarely on Shen.
“Are reinforcements here yet?” the dispatcher asked over the open channel.
For once, Yiwen wasn’t fighting alone.
“Here. Give me directions.” A new voice cut in.
The Devil.
A veteran in the bureau, an LV2 visual enhancer with LV3 intuition. A master of firearms and long-range sniping. Recently embroiled in a lawsuit for shooting a minor, he’d only been reinstated due to the current manpower shortage.
“Cornfield.” That was all Yiwen could manage in her state.
“Target confirmed.”
Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
A flower of blood bloomed amidst the cornfield.