Chapter 123

Chapter 123: The $2 Billion Server

“Xiaoliu, catch!”  

Even executed a perfect forehand swing. Generally, as long as the ball was struck dead-center with the racket and the follow-through motion was completed properly, the ball would shoot out at high speed.  

Tennis wasn’t as easy to pick up as badminton. 

For beginners, a rally was practically just a serve simulator—the ball flew too fast and hurt when it hit, making it nearly impossible for either side to return it properly. 

Even if someone managed to get a racket on it, sending it back correctly was another challenge.  

And yet…  

The ball Yiwen hit floated through the air as lightly as a badminton shuttlecock, drifting gently toward Mi Xiaoliu.  

And she still missed it.  

“What the hell is this?” The tennis club captain stared in disbelief.  

Are you kidding me? Wouldn’t you two be better off playing badminton? The rackets are way lighter, at least.  

“You’re so bad at this,” Yiwen giggled.  

“Sorry,” Mi Xiaoliu mumbled, clutching her racket and lowering her head.  

“I’m not actually blaming you! It’s teasing—you know, teasing?” Yiwen sighed in frustration.  

Mi Xiaoliu was perfect in every way except one: he (she) took every joke seriously. For someone presenting as a boy, that was honestly worrying.  

After all, Yiwen was a girl. She couldn’t just follow Mi Xiaoliu around forever protecting him (her)—not to mention how humiliating that would be. 

From what she’d heard, boys had very fragile egos.  

“Whatever. You look tired already—let’s take a break.” Yiwen tugged at Mi Xiaoliu’s sleeve, leading her to the “spectator seats.”  

The club captain was speechless.  

One rally and you’re exhausted? Wouldn’t you two be happier playing mobile games instead?  

But then again, sports clubs at ability-user academies were more about leisure than competition. There were rarely any professional coaches.  

From the moment they awakened their abilities, these students were disqualified from professional sports anyway. 

These days, athletic competitions didn’t just screen for performance-enhancing drugs—they also tested for ability-users.  

Some strict tournaments didn’t even allow ability-users in the audience. If discovered, they’d be red-carded and ejected on the spot.  

There weren’t even any dedicated sports events for ability-users. The gap in power and growth potential was just too dependent on innate talent. 

Some people awakened at LV3, while others might train their whole lives and never progress beyond LV1. 

Matches between them would be like the Waning meme—a chaotic free-for-all of overpowered nonsense, with zero sportsmanship to be seen.  

That said… the club still wasn’t a place for you two to flirt!  

The captain sighed as she watched the group of girls follow Yiwen and Mi Xiaoliu to the benches. Their little crushes were way too obvious.  

“Do you want green tea or black tea? Just a casual reminder—I want the green tea 🍵,”  Yiwen said, holding up two bottles.  

“Green tea,” Mi Xiaoliu replied, matching her preference.  

Yiwen pretended not to hear, unscrewed the green tea cap, took a sip, and then pushed the black tea toward Mi Xiaoliu.  

Mi Xiaoliu didn’t take it. She just waited quietly until Yiwen was done, then took the green tea for herself.  

…Oh my god.  

Yiwen’s cheeks flushed slightly.  

Then she saw Mi Xiaoliu meticulously wipe the bottle’s rim with her sleeve before drinking—a habit enforced by Sasha.  

“Ehh?! You’re f*cking with me?!” Yiwen pouted, jamming her thumbs into Mi Xiaoliu’s mouth and stretching her cheeks in protest.  

Mi Xiaoliu unhappily pulled her hands away.  

…Tasted a little salty.

“……” The newly joined tiger girl watched the scene with a mix of agony and delight.  

What was this…? The way these two interacted seemed a little… sus. Was this how guys acted in private?  

“Do all guys act like this in private?” Someone voiced the exact question on her mind.  

Gloria.  

Although Mi Xiaoliu was extremely reluctant, Heli had still assigned Gloria the task of picking her up after school—because Heli was just that busy.  

This left Gloria baffled. How old is this kid that the old hag still doesn’t trust him to go home alone? What, is he gonna go murder someone after school instead?  

Yesterday, when Heli heard Gloria had “kidnapped” her son, the woman had rushed over on her scooter still wearing house slippers to pick her up.  

And then Gloria’s own mother, temporarily setting aside the issue of the clown in the photo, spent two whole hours badmouthing the brat—basically telling her to stay away from him, that he wasn’t good enough for her, and so on.  

She even mentioned testing Mi Xiaoliu with two million, and how he’d almost taken the money.  

How ridiculous. What are you, the mother-in-law from some crappy “Dragon King Son-in-Law” web novel?  

I’m not blind—why the hell would I like this little brat?  

As for keeping her distance? Not happening. Why should she obey some old hag’s orders? Who she hung out with was none of her mother and Heli’s business.  

As for Mi Xiaoliu, after being picked up by Heli last night, she’d used her last 200 yuan in pocket money for two single pulls—hoping to draw memories related to the Chairwoman.  

Both were blank.  

At the tennis court, Gloria had taken Mi Xiaoliu from Yiwen, practically herding her home—because the kid kept deliberately maintaining a two-meter distance. If Gloria stood behind her and sped up, Mi Xiaoliu would panic and run faster too.  

Hilarious.  

Passing through an alleyway, “Uncle” Wang San spawned in:  

“Kid, your guardian’s back from the Fallen City, right?”  

Gloria instinctively pressed a hand to Mi Xiaoliu’s forehead and backed them both out of the alley.  

This guy didn’t seem trustworthy—in a TV drama, he’d at least be a Tier 1 villain.  

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu nodded.  

“Good, good. Then she should be able to make the antidote, right?” Wang San stroked his stubble, not bothering to hide his words from Gloria.  

Mi Xiaoliu stayed silent—meaning I don’t know.  

Wang San shook his head. Since Mi Xiaoliu was being held by Gloria, he couldn’t pat her head, so he just turned to leave.  

“Don’t wander around at night lately. There’s a real creep in Night Hawk… I’ll treat you to a feast later—look how skinny you are, all skin and bones. Bet your guardian gives all the good meat to your sister.”  

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” It took Gloria two full seconds to realize “sister” meant her.  

This is slander! The good dishes always went to Mi Xiaoliu’s side—she’s the one with a small appetite! If she doesn’t gain weight, how’s that my fault? I only steal her food twice a day—once at breakfast, once at dinner.  

…Wait. Did he just say Night Hawk?  

But when Gloria turned to question Wang San further, he was already gone.  

It seemed he’d only come to confirm whether Heli could make the antidote for Mi Xiaoliu—just to set his own mind at ease.  

“Someone you know?” Gloria ruffled Mi Xiaoliu’s hair.  

Huh? No grease? A boy this age actually washed himself?  

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu shook her head slightly in resistance, but failed to dislodge Gloria’s hand.  

“Stay away from people like that from now on, got it?” Gloria rapped her knuckles lightly against Mi Xiaoliu’s skull.  

She mulled over Wang San’s words, and the more she thought about it, the more suspicious it sounded.  

Was this some kind of black-market deal between that old hag and shady types, using Mi Xiaoliu as a middleman? And something about Night Hawk too?  

No way… That woman dotes on this brat to the point of obsession. It’s practically pathological.  

Ignoring her, Mi Xiaoliu continued walking ahead, backpack bouncing, stubbornly maintaining her distance.  

Gloria = bad.  

Gloria’s mom = also bad.  

Back home, Gloria went through her usual routine—eating, watching TV, and bullying Mi Xiaoliu.  

At one point, she casually asked Heli if she had any connection to Night Hawk. Heli, of course, denied it.  

Gloria wasn’t convinced.  

If you ask directly, of course she’d lie.  

After dinner, Heli assigned Gloria the task of tutoring Mi Xiaoliu—though Gloria was far from trustworthy in that regard.  

“Have fun studying by yourself. I’ve got stuff to do, so I’m out. I’ll just tell the old hag you did great on your homework.” With that half-hearted excuse, she left.  

She didn’t even return to her room. Who knew where she was sneaking off to in the middle of the night?  

Mi Xiaoliu was perfectly happy with this arrangement.  

“Master, you have a message,” Sasha chimed in.  

Mi Xiaoliu pulled out the organization’s phone. The notification was from the group chat.  

Hermit: “@Princess @Hourglass Do you know this game?”  

[Attached: Icon for “The Best Game Ever”.]

Hourglass: “Know it, never played it.”  

[Modern games require real-name verification. As a wanted man, he couldn’t exactly register an account.]

Hourglass: “Didn’t the servers crash a couple days ago?”  

Multitool: “Crashed, but the physical server’s still intact. Probably somewhere in Fanzui City. Someone put up a 2-billion bounty on Night Hawk’s network to find the hardware hosting it—apparently it’s unhackable and can’t be replicated.”  

Hourglass: “Don’t we want it for ourselves?”  

Hermit: “For Night Hawk? Eh, take it or leave it.”  

Hourglass: “So our next mission’s worth 2 billion?”  

Hermit: “Nah. Just warning you all to lay low. The city’s crawling with people hunting for that server—including Easter.”  

The chat log ended there. The last line was clearly meant for Mi Xiaoliu.  

“Master, we have to get that server,” Sasha urged. “It might be our ticket back into the game world. If we can access it again, we could retrieve the antidote herb.”  

“Mmm.”  

Mi Xiaoliu nodded and sent a single “.” in the group chat to acknowledge the message.  

Multitool: “@Princess The hell are you ‘.’-ing for? This warning’s specifically for you! You’re nothing but trouble!”  

[This seemingly well-behaved girl was always defiant—both in actions and texts. His ex girlfriend really had cursed him with the worst “gift.”]

Mi Xiaoliu scrolled through her sticker collection, looking for a response.  

“Master… maybe say something nice for once? Look at your stickers—”  

Every single one was a Panda Head meme.  

Most Panda Head meme stickers are anything but polite.  

Mi Xiaoliu thought back to the compliments people used in her class group chat and typed out a message with her still-clumsy typing skills:  

Princess: “@Multitool Damn, you’re amazing!”  

Multitool immediately called her via private chat.  

Mi Xiaoliu didn’t dare answer.  

Hourglass: “A 2-billion bounty, boss! All we gotta do is find one thing and we get 2 billion!”  

Hermit (Sister): “Our team doesn’t take jobs where Easter is involved. Don’t ask why—that spatial ability-user who wanted to drag you back for experiments last time? Yeah, he was from Easter.”  

That one sentence instantly killed his enthusiasm.  

Hermit (Sister): “But Team 25 took the job. Get to know them. Try not to pick a fight—their leader’s supposedly a total freak.”  

She then sent over a dossier.  

The last attachment was a photo of a woman dressed like a clown—though nowhere near as attractive as DC’s Harley Quinn.