Chapter 152

Chapter 152: Antidote Herbs

A certain restaurant.  

“Haven’t been working out much, have you? You look like a scrawny monkey.” Jim’s father patted him down, ostensibly checking for muscle but actually using a detector hidden in his sleeve to scan for surveillance devices.  

Nothing. Kids doing well. How’d he even earn Tian Xing Dao’s trust?  

Still, better stay cautious—no telling if any ability-users were watching.  

“I’ve been busy with work lately. Haven’t kept up with your studies.”  

“Same as always. Never passed a single test.” Jim peeked nervously at his father’s expression.  

The man nodded.  

Perfect. Response matches the codebook word-for-word. Means Tian Xing Dao’s been lying low.  

“Even in an ability-user school, you can’t neglect your grades. This stuff goes straight into your records.” His father patted his shoulder calmly, leaving Jim stunned.  

In the past, a reply like that would’ve earned him a belt to the backside.  

“Any plans for summer break? Kids your age need more discipline. How about I get you a job at an electronics factory? A little hardship will make you appreciate school.”  

Meaning how deep are you in Tian Xing Dao now?  

“No way! I can find my own gig.” Jim’s eyes darted away—factory work was a hard pass.  

His father’s eyes widened.  

Meaning he’s already gained their higher-ups’ trust? Maybe even a promotion?  

How? He’s only been undercover for a month.  

A pang of guilt hit him. I really haven’t paid attention to my son. Didn’t even notice when he got this sharp.  

After a light dinner and a few drinks, they left the restaurant. To any observer, their conversation and demeanor were utterly unremarkable.  

The only oddity was the timing—11:30 p.m. Late for dinner, but plausible as a midnight snack.  

For a high schooler, staying up this late was hardly unusual.  

But for a girl who looked no older than ten, wandering the streets at this hour was anything but normal.  

On their way home, Jim and his father encountered exactly that.  

A small girl, bundled in a cat-eared winter hat despite the summer heat, crouched by the empty roadside, quietly sobbing into her hands. Whether as cops or Tian Xing Dao affiliates, they couldn’t just walk past.  

“Hey there, kiddo. Lost your mom?” Jim’s father softened his tone.  

“My mommy left me.” The girl looked up, her striking blue eyes meeting his.  

No way. What kind of mother abandons a kid this adorable?  

Jim scanned the area—no one else around.  

“How about we take you to the police? They’ll help find her.” Can’t reveal I’m actually a cop.  

“No need. I live right up ahead.” Wiping her tears, the girl stood and scampered into an alley.  

Jim’s father frowned. Duty compelled him to follow—but the moment he took a step, a searing pain shot through his kidney, doubling him over.  

“Dad? You okay?” Jim rushed to support him. “Hitting your midlife crisis already?”  

“Shut it. Might be a kidney stone.” He grimaced. My diet’s always been clean. “Get me to a hospital.”  

“Wait, Dad—I think I’m worse off than you…” Jim’s voice faded as he collapsed face-first onto the pavement.  

————————  

“Fifteen years old, and already three lives in her hands?” Officer Chen stared at the intel on the Clown Girl’s case file.

After interrogating her on all relevant questions, the school director packed the girl into a cardboard box and shipped her off to the police station via express delivery.  

“The Princess is younger than me, yet her body count requires more than two hands to tally—what do you say to that?” The Clown Girl sneered.  

She was still hung up on the Crow Man’s remark about her being less adorable than the “Princess.”  

“Princess?” Officer Chen frowned.  

“The codename for the Black-Clothed One. That’s all I can tell you—leaking any more would get me killed.”  

“The Black-Clothed One is actually part of Night Hawks?” Officer Chen was stunned.  

The Clown Girl lowered her head in silence.  

…Did I just leak intel?  

Truthfully, she didn’t know much about the organization—only the cell leaders had access to deeper information.  

“How much do you know about the Black-Clothed One’s real identity?” Officer Chen didn’t expect an answer, he just needed her thoughts for Lu Mingxue to read.  

“I don’t know.” Had she known, she would’ve gladly told him. “Only cell leaders can access member profiles… Are you sure my father is really dead?”  

“He is. So you committed crimes just to resurrect a father who regularly abused you?” Officer Chen couldn’t comprehend it.  

“Oh well. Dead is dead. Should’ve known soul-summoning wasn’t real.” The Clown Girl showed little emotion, staring blankly at the ceiling. “At least when I was little, he used to make me laugh.”  

People change too easily. No one stays true to a single “character.” Reality’s just… not kind.  

Only Lu Mingxue sensed it—subconsciously, the girl had always known her father’s fate.  

“I really can’t tell you much, but you should just let our leader go. Recently, he’s unlocked the true use of ‘Fate.’ If he wants to escape, nothing you do—not even nukes—can kill him. Because ‘Fate’ is already set. All you’ll achieve is dying for nothing.”  

‘Fate’ was that unreasonable. Once its path was fixed, no matter how convoluted the journey, it would bulldoze all obstacles to reach its destined end.  

“We’ll handle that ourselves,” Officer Chen said dismissively.  

“Captain Chen! Emergency!” The liaison’s voice crackled over the comms.  

——————  

“You’re telling me this came from a game?”  

Sister Hermit hauled a small cardboard box onto Wei Shi’s desk, filled with dozens of four-leaf-clover-like plants—antidote herbs—along with a few other specimens buried beneath.  

Health-restoring, stamina-replenishing, vision-enhancing (10-minute duration).  

The starter village only offered these basic items, and even these were low-tier.  

Antidote herbs were rare early-game loot but became absurdly common in later zones, with players stockpiling stacks of 99.  

Mi Xiaoliu had grinded for hours to gather this many.  

Sister Hermit pinched one, squeezing out green sap. Real plant matter. Unbelievable—how can data-generated items feel so lifelike?  

The little princess’s ability really is something. Pity the server isn’t purely code-based, or I could’ve restored data and even added new absurd items.  

If these could truly cure any poison—or better, any disease—each one would be priceless.  

Wei Shi pulled out his dual crescent blades from a drawer and sliced his wrist open. Not deep—just enough to draw blood.  

Then he grabbed an apple from the box (HP-recovery item) and took a bite.  

Tasted like any other apple—sweet and tart. But swallowing it left no fullness, the flavor vanishing instantly, as if he’d eaten air. Yet his wound sealed shut.  

“Does it actually work?!” Sister Hermit’s eyes sparkled.  

With this power, why bother working? Sell one antidote herb for 20 million, and bam—instant heiress status. Then I can latch onto her and retire forever…  

Wei Shi ignored her, reopening the cut and biting the same apple again.  

This time, no healing.  

He tossed it, grabbed a fresh apple, and took a bite. The wound closed once more.  

“What kind of Devil Fruit nonsense is this?!” Sister Hermit groaned.  

Only the first bite counts?  

Wei Shi chewed an antidote herb, waited ten seconds, then placed a test strip on his tongue. After a moment, he examined it.  

Frowning slightly, he tossed the strip into the trash and swiveled his chair to boot up a game.  

Sister Hermit fished it out. “Failed?!”  

——————  

Meanwhile, Heli stepped back from the microscope, staring at Mi Xiaoliu, who sat obediently, eyes shimmering with hope.  

She sat beside her, gently ruffling her hair.  

“The black element hasn’t faded. Not even weakened.”  

Mi Xiaoliu lowered her head.

“Don’t lose heart. I’ll find a way to treat it—look, I’ve already made significant progress.” Heli placed her research notes in front of Mi Xiaoliu.  

Not a single word was comprehensible.  

Mi Xiaoliu looked up at her.  

Heli had once scolded her for messy handwriting and even bought her calligraphy practice books.  

Mi Xiaoliu turned her head away again, refusing to look.  

Heli didn’t pick up on her unhappiness, but she did notice the confusion. She retrieved the research notes.  

Good, she didn’t understand. Because Heli had lied.  

Her progress on the black element wasn’t substantial. She needed a vessel to preserve the soul and more experimental samples—things impossible to obtain through legitimate channels. That was why she had tied herself to the school Chairwoman, a powerful and wealthy patron.  

Though she’d told Mi Xiaoliu to leave these matters to the adults, the child had still been working hard in secret. Heli didn’t know the specifics, but seeing her run over with such expressionless expectation, but her eyes slightly brighter than usual, only to deliver such crushing news—she must be deeply disappointed.  

I’ll make something special tonight to cheer her up.  

Heli pinched the four-leaf clover, examining it.  

It was just an ordinary clover, probably plucked from the apartment’s lawn. Many games designed antidote herbs to look like four-leaf clovers, and Mi Xiaoliu had taken it literally.  

She shook her head but didn’t tell Mi Xiaoliu that a cure-all didn’t exist. Let her keep hoping.  

————————  

The moon replaced the sun.  

In the hospital, Beibei listened boredly to a novel playing on the radio. Most of the time, audiobooks failed to hold her attention—the mechanical narration didn’t give her time to process, and if she missed something, she’d have to rewind.  

It was like watching anime: once you got used to subtitles, your eyes always reacted faster than your ears.  

The radio droned: “Wang Tiedan was furious at Wang Gangdan’s decision. Sensing the tension, Wang Ludan tried to mediate. But his words only provoked Wang Gangdan further. Just then, Wang Jindan arrived, urging him to think of the baby Wang Badan in the cradle…”  

What even is this?  

After listening for ages, Beibei still couldn’t keep track of who was who. The kidnapper’s “Calabash Brothers Kidney Tragedy War” had been more engaging.  

Today’s steam therapy made her skin itch, further distracting her.  

Then, a sound at the window.  

At first, Beibei paid no mind—birds often perched there. But when a sharp snap of a lock breaking echoed, she realized it was forced entry.  

City neon lights flickered outside, their faint glow piercing through the black cloth over her eyes, stinging painfully.  

Her vision had worsened.  

But Beibei ignored it, torn between hope and fear as she called out, “Princess, is that you?”  

She didn’t use her real name—she couldn’t be sure if the police had bugged the room. A blind girl had no way to check.  

“Mmm.”  

That short hum of acknowledgment made Beibei exhale in relief. “You haven’t visited in so long! I thought you’d been arrested.”  

She had no sense of time, so “long” was purely subjective.  

Mi Xiaoliu shook her head, but Beibei couldn’t see it.  

Pulling the curtains shut, Mi Xiaoliu retrieved an antidote herb from her inventory. “Open your mouth.”  

“Huh?” Beibei was baffled.  

“Open.”  

Blushing, Beibei obeyed.  

She expected something moist and soft, but the texture was more like cilantro—though the taste wasn’t.  

“Eat it.”  

Though confused, Beibei complied.  

Is this a new game the Princess came up with? Weird.  

Mi Xiaoliu watched her silently.  

Beibei’s scratching didn’t stop.  

Sasha could sense her master’s disappointment.  

“Princess, what did you just feed me?” Beibei asked, curious. It hadn’t even tasted good.  

“I don’t know.” Mi Xiaoliu shook her head.  

An antidote herb that didn’t antidote—what was it, really?  

Beibei: “…”  

Using me as a trash bin?  

Annoyed, she grabbed Mi Xiaoliu’s arm to playfully hit her—only to find it immobilized in a sling.  

“Arm’s broken,” Mi Xiaoliu explained.  

Antidote herbs didn’t heal injuries. And this wasn’t even an injury.  

“Ah?! I’m sorry!” Beibei immediately switched to gentle pats, guilt-ridden.  

The visit didn’t last long. Assuming the room was bugged, Beibei kept their interactions brief before clinging to her like a Koala.  

I hope the Princess can visit me as ‘Mi Xiaoliu’ with Yiwen someday. Then I could keep her longer without worry.  

On her way out, Mi Xiaoliu noticed crowds packed tightly in the hospital lobby, the line for registration stretching out the door. Hacking coughs and a strange, foul odor lingered in the air.  

After she left, Beibei was alone again with the boring radio and the itch-inducing steam.  

A breeze…? Ugh, did the Princess not close the window properly? Next time she visits, I’m eating snacks right in front of her—none for her! Let her drool!  

She reached for the call button to ask a nurse to shut the window but accidentally jostled her blindfold loose. Her eyes instinctively fluttered open.  

That was when she saw—the window wasn’t just ajar. A section of it had been shattered, the curtain blown aside, revealing the neon-lit nightscape outside.  

Bright. So bright.  

But only because she hadn’t seen light in so long.  

After a few seconds of adjustment, she realized—she wasn’t afraid of the light anymore.

[Translator’s Note: See the index page for this Novel if you want to see the Amazon Link for the eBooks.]

[https://ko-fi.com/golden_dragon]