Chapter 216

Chapter 216: Revenge (Two-In-One)

After realizing Mi Xiaoliu was colorblind, Charuk immediately descended to the ground—even though flying in the sky had already drawn plenty of attention.  

For every gaze that landed on him, he mercilessly severed their six senses, ensuring no superpowered officers slipped through.  

In less than two minutes of flight, over two hundred people lost their senses.  

Once on the ground, he blended into the crowd, his whereabouts still unknown.  

——  

On the rooftop of an electronics factory, Hayato Shigenobu, carrying a guitar case, used his time-stop to observe a man lying in the opposite corridor through binoculars. He didn’t recklessly take the shot.  

A few seconds later, Hayato lay flat behind the parapet, ending the time-stop and ceasing his surveillance.  

Like Boss Wei Shi, Charuk had no desire for theatrics—no signature outfit, no mask. But the hood he’d just been wearing was indeed his.  

“That’s a decoy,” the Hermit sister informed him.  

Randomly severing the senses of passersby with similar builds, then disguising them in his own attire—this was one of Charuk’s favorite tricks.  

You’d think overusing it would make it ineffective, but most people deprived of their senses collapsed into twitching heaps, some even whimpering pitifully.  

It was obvious at a glance, yet the police still had to treat them cautiously.  

In the past, Charuk had even pretended to be one of these “framed” victims, only to ambush officers once they let their guard down.  

Back when he operated in Duoyu City, one decoy went unnoticed until the sensory deprivation wore off.  

With his face barely covered, the man didn’t realize anything was wrong at first. After regaining his senses, he panicked and ran amok…  

Resulting in the police shooting him dead on the spot.  

Six-sense suppression wasn’t as vile as the Red Prince’s ability, but Charuk’s methods made it just as disgusting.  

“How can there be so many disgusting abilities in the world, used in such disgusting ways?”  

And yet, with his time-stop, all Hayato could manage was silent gunfire.  

Hell, I can’t even finish jerking off in that tiny window.  

Hayato took out specialized perfume to mask the gunpowder scent on his guitar case.  

Not because he’d hidden a gun inside—the case itself was the gun, shaped like a guitar, capable of firing even while closed.  

But firearms modified into other forms were inherently impractical. Guns evolved into their current shapes for a reason.  

“It’s not that the world has so many disgusting abilities—it’s that their abilities and how they’re used are so disgusting that they’ve earned such infamy.”  

The Hermit sister corrected him.  

“Right now, he’s on Survivor Street, not far from Xiaoliu. He’s had plastic surgery—looks different from his photo. I’ll send you the image.”  

“Plastic surgery” was an oversimplification.  

According to her advanced psychography, Charuk’s entire face was fake—so much so that it could be ripped off by force, revealing raw muscle underneath.  

Easter’s technology: replaceable faces with no visible seams.  

All to counter the organization’s psychography users.  

“Got it. After this job, let’s go on a date.”  

“Really? Setting up death flags now?”  

Rested, Hayato activated his time-stop again, using a grappling hook to descend to the street, where he snatched a passerby’s phone.  

People glued to their screens while walking were common—no password needed, a thief’s dream.  

Hayato immediately called the police.  

“Help! A superpowered attacker assaulted my girlfriend! She’s completely unresponsive! I’m on Survivor Street—!”  

He was mimicking the new boss’s style. Wang San was nothing like the decisive Wei Shi.  

Against enemies who lurked in the shadows, he loved calling the cops at every opportunity, exploiting his rights as a Federation citizen.  

Sure, the client might withhold payment if they found out, but Wang San thrived on making everyone’s life harder.  

——  

Meanwhile, Mi Xiaoliu was struggling to carry two people while leaping between buildings—especially when one of them terrified her.  

Noticing this, Gloria reluctantly stopped basking in her sister’s scent and released her, transforming into a streak of light to follow Mi Xia.  

“Hey, Dad!” Gloria slapped Okulet twice.  

The lingering handprints suggested some personal grudges.  

No reaction. His six senses were completely sealed.  

Mi Xiaoliu moved Okulet to shield him from further abuse.  

“Master, that guy flying earlier was probably the Night Demon. He was using Easter’s exclusive portable thrusters,” Sasha chimed in belatedly.  

Charuk was nowhere in sight now.  

Even when flying, he stuck close to buildings, exploiting his weaknesses by using innocents as human shields.  

With Okulet—the most reliable one—temporarily neutralized, it was unclear whether the Night Demon was still pursuing them.  

“Mi Xiaoliu, can you use that thing from last time? The one that took down the Red Prince?” Gloria patted Mi Xiaoliu’s head.  

Mi Xiaoliu stood silently at the edge of the skyscraper, looking down without answering.  

“Don’t be scared, Misha. I’ll protect you.”  

Gloria stopped beside her, pounding her chest with conviction—causing certain spherical objects to bounce twice.  

As the high-altitude wind whipped past, Gloria marveled at how her sister’s cleverness clearly came from her. Of course, staying high up was the best way to evade the Night Demon’s range.  

Then Mi Xiaoliu squinted at the streets below, trying to spot Charuk.  

Gloria, who’d just praised her intelligence internally: “…?”  

During their first operation against the Night Demon, Wei Shi had briefed Mi Xiaoliu with intel far more detailed than Okulet’s police files.  

Not only was he nearsighted—he couldn’t detect direct visual impairments when someone looked at him.  

Normal color blindness didn’t count, but Mi Xiaoliu only saw in black and white.  

From this height, Mi Xiaoliu couldn’t possibly see him. No telescope, and the people below were ant-sized.  

The crowd made it impossible to pinpoint anything suspicious.  

But from the skyscraper’s roof, only the three of them were visible. Anyone watching from a distance could easily track their position.  

Take the “Ears” among the Avengers, for example.  

The vanguard squad had been wiped out, leaving only auxiliary members like him—or those who hadn’t managed to keep up whether out of cowardice or not, no one knew.  

Ears followed the Night Demon’s movements while glaring furiously at the tiny black dot atop the skyscraper.  

“The Night Demon just skirted around the street—he didn’t even go near her! Damn cowardly piece of shit.”  

He’d been counting on the two of them tearing each other apart.  

Charuk had noticed Mi Xiaoliu’s location, but he was genuinely just passing through, weaving through crowds to shake off the police.  

If the first strike failed, there was no point in pursuing it. He never risked putting himself in danger through drawn-out chases. In his words: “I’d rather do nothing than make a mistake.”  

——  

“Aim the rocket launcher at Survivor Street. Fire now.” Ears commanded over the phone.  

The rocket launcher had been borrowed from the radical faction of the Tian Xing Dao group—on the condition that no civilians were harmed.  

Calling them “radicals” was a stretch. Anyone who looked deeper would realize these so-called radicals were just naive kids, even more idealistic than the Crimson Walker, most aged between 12 and 18.  

How had they convinced them to hand over such heavy weaponry?  

Simple. They’d sent a guy with thick eyebrows and big, earnest eyes to swear up and down that it would only be used for righteous purposes—even trotting out the cliche line: “Do you trust me?”  

The middle-schooler, stirred by some inexplicable surge of passion, had solemnly replied, “I trust you.”  

That was the truth behind the Tian Xing Dao radicals.  

Kids who’d never stepped into society, never experienced human cruelty—they acted solely on the passion they’d absorbed from web novels.  

“No way. The street’s packed with people.”  

That was also why he hadn’t dared fire at Mi Xiaoliu earlier.  

“If you don’t fire, we’ll all die at the Night Demon’s hands sooner or later!”  

“I—I can’t do something this evil. Didn’t we gather to take revenge on Easter? I’ve never been afraid to die, but if you’re asking me to kill this many innocents for my own sake… I can’t live with that. If you want to fire it, do it yourself. I’ll leave the launcher here.”  

The sound of a case opening came through the phone—he was taking the rocket launcher back.  

Hearing those last words, Ears instantly understood.  

“Then aim for the Tech Tower. The Sixth Fractal’s on the roof.”  

“What? Impossible. From my position, I can’t hit something that high.”  

“Your ability is ‘Triple Strike,’ right?”  

The effect was simple: after throwing the first punch, two additional strikes would follow, their force and direction controllable, with a range three times his normal punching distance.  

The interesting part? This ability also applied to weapons—bullets, rockets, even nuclear launch buttons.  

Thanks to this conceptual power, he’d earned a private cell in Easter.  

“The first missile won’t reach, but the two follow-up strikes can be directed with your ability… Three times the range—wasn’t that your proud boast during introductions?”  

“This…”  

“Did you know? My little brother died by her hand.” Ears’ voice turned icy.  

“He was fifteen. Easter’s trash injected him with some unknown drug. When he came back, his headaches got worse every day—said it felt like a drill boring through his skull. At the time, even the neighbors’ fights weren’t as loud as his screams, and he hadn’t eaten in two days.”  

“By the fourth day, the pain stopped. Thick, curly hair like a gorilla’s started growing all over him, his ears sharpening and lengthening. He grew quiet but showed no aggression. He still responded when I talked to him.”  

“The changes stopped. Aside from his silence, there was nothing wrong with him. But the trash researchers took one look and declared he’d turn into a mindless monster any second—ordered the Sixth Fractal to kill him.”  

“You know what? I begged her on my knees to spare him. I was this close to licking her toes like a fucking stray dog.”  

“Can you imagine how I felt watching my brother drop dead in front of me? Who gave her the right to decide who lives or dies?”  

“Think back. After every experiment, didn’t you wonder how long it’d be before the executioner came for you? Isn’t that why we’re here? If we back down now, what’s left of our lives? What was the point of all our suffering? We dragged our comrades’ corpses here for one thing—to make the Sixth Fractal pay.”  

Not a word about whether there were people inside the building.  

This guy wasn’t kind-hearted. If he were, he wouldn’t have said, “I’ll leave the launcher for you.”  

He just couldn’t cross that mental hurdle—couldn’t bring himself to fire into a crowd.  

The call ended.  

Watching the rocket streak through the sky, Ears grinned.  

There we go.  

He’d almost forgotten.  

Every member of this Avengers squad was currently over 23 years old. But many had been imprisoned for years—meaning when Easter first took them, they’d been the same age as those Tian Xing Dao kids.  

Years in captivity left them with nothing but hatred—psychologically, they were still just as easily swayed.  

As for guilt? He was firing at a building. He couldn’t see the people behind the walls, so the guilt wouldn’t hit as hard.  

Kids’ minds are so easy to manipulate.  

Honestly, after avenging his brother, maybe he’d borrow money to start a factory and hire fresh graduates.  

—————-——  

The rocket struck the dead center of the tower—with far more force than a standard launcher should have.  

The building didn’t just collapse—it shattered from the middle downward before tipping sideways.  

The blast didn’t stop there. Passing cars, nearby stores, street food stalls—all were caught in the devastation.  

“Misha!”  

Gloria, clutching her father under one arm, lunged for Mi Xiaoliu—only to be hurled away with brute force.  

Before she could process why her sister would do that, her glowing eyes caught two invisible missiles slamming into Mi Xiaoliu, triggering explosions identical to the first.  

“Sister!”  

A scream tore from Gloria’s throat. Forgetting her father’s ability to withstand high-speed movement, she grabbed him and dove.  

In slow motion, Okulet’s face rippled under the g-force, gums exposed, features twisted into something grotesque.  

Gloria caught Mi Xiaoliu.  

Covered in blood, her arms—raised in defense—were shredded. But the wounds weren’t fatal. Mi Xiaoliu stared blankly as her injuries began healing.  

Police, alerted by Hayato’s call, rushed to aid the injured—though their efforts were limited.  

Charuk, farther away, avoided direct hits but couldn’t escape the flying debris.  

The launcher’s user took a chunk of rubble to the skull, dying confused.  

This wasn’t how it worked in movies. Since when could a rocket launcher level a whole building?  

Watching the three figures plummet from the sky, Ears’ grin stretched ear to ear, his heart swelling with satisfaction.  

Little brother… you’re watching from above, right? Aren’t you happy?  

Then—why did his heart hurt so much?  

Not guilt.  

Physical pain.  

The bullet hole in his right chest said it all.  

But… he hadn’t heard a gunshot.

At the same time, his enhanced hearing picked up a woman’s furious cursing: “That motherfucker dared have someone bomb Xiaoliu! Kill him now!”  

“I was aiming for his head—it must be the gun’s fault. Always missing.” Hayato Shigenobu chuckled darkly as he reloaded his guitar-shaped rifle.  

He walked up to Ears and pressed the barrel against his stomach.  

Point-blank. No way to miss this time.  

So this was how it felt…  

Ears’ eyes widened in realization.  

That girl… had people who’d avenge her too.  

……  

“Mi Xiaoliu, don’t be scared… you’ll be okay…”  

Gloria’s voice trembled on the verge of tears.  

She’d just promised to protect her sister—and this happened.  

What good was she as an older sister if all she did was bully her?  

Mi Xiaoliu remained motionless, silently watching her wounds fully heal.  

Honestly, if Gloria hadn’t cried out like that, Charuk might not have noticed them.  

“What the hell just happened?” Charuk clutched his bleeding side, staring at the distant wreckage.  

The death toll would be catastrophic.  

Whoever fired that rocket probably just surpassed decades of his own “karma points” in hell’s ledger.  

Straight-up terrorism. Thank god it wasn’t aimed at him—he hated dealing with fanatics like this.  

“God knows. Your target’s right there. Not gonna act?”  

“Only idiots run from guaranteed success.” Charuk replied.  

“No need to kill or capture Mi. Just eliminate the Little Demon King. Someone else will handle her afterward.”  

Better play it safe…  

Great Silence.  

Every sense vanished for everyone in range. Rescuers collapsed mid-motion. Survivors buried in rubble despaired further.  

Mi Xiaoliu and Gloria plunged into absolute darkness.  

No monologues, no hesitation—Charuk flicked out wrist-blades and lunged at Okulet.  

Then his hand was crushed in Mi Xiaoliu’s grip. The blade clattered onto Okulet’s face, leaving a shallow cut.  

“Gh—?!” Charuk gasped, staring at Mi Xiaoliu in shock.  

No blue sparks. Her eyes were vacant, unfocused.  

How?  

Mi Xiaoliu’s six senses were suppressed.  

But she could still see one thing—her system interface.  

Unlike last time when she’d glimpsed the void, now only the system’s functions and inventory remained visible.  

“Goddammit, these people are absolute scum.” Sasha swore.  

“Goddammit.” Mi Xiaoliu parroted.  

“Master! That’s not for you to repeat!”  

“Mm.”  

“Master, you’ve caught him. Might’ve overdone the grip strength though.” Sasha reported.  

Mi Xiaoliu obediently squeezed harder.  

She couldn’t tell if it worked, but Sasha clearly heard Charuk’s scream through Mi Xiaoliu’s ears—his hand now a mess of splintered bone.  

The Master might’ve misunderstood… but it works.  

“Master, your left hand’s hanging loose. Try clenching it… good, now swing forward. No, it missed. Adjust right. Tch, he dodged… Now your hand’s on your right shoulder—you just hit yourself…”  

Charuk stared in disbelief at Mi Xiaoliu’s clumsy movements.  

She shouldn’t have any 6 senses left—right?  

Then how was she doing this?

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

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