Chapter 111

Chapter 111: Wounded Pride

“Not arrested for any wrongdoing, right? Good.” Heli’s voice came through the phone. “I’ll be back in a couple days. Anything special you’d like me to bring?”

“No,” replied Mi Xiaoliu.

“By the way, you haven’t played that ‘The Best Game Ever’ thing, have you?” Though Heli hadn’t had time to call earlier, she trusted Mi Xiaoliu wouldn’t give her reason to worry. 

The girl only ever used communication apps on her phone – there was no way she’d voluntarily open some shady software.

“Played it.” The honest child told the truth.

Two seconds of silence from Heli’s end. “Flick your own forehead. Let me hear it.”

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu gave herself a light tap.

“No sound. Do it again.” 

Thunk.

Mi Xiaoliu flicked her forehead properly this time.

“Two more.”

“It hurts.” Mi Xiaoliu protested.

“Then I’ll spank you when I get back. Or give the phone to Gloria and I’ll have her flick you.” Heartless Heli.

Thunk. Thunk.

Finally satisfied, Heli continued: “Did any man give you something to wear on your head? Said to wear it while sleeping?”

“Yes. Headphones.”

“Good. Wear them when you sleep recently.” Heli sighed in relief before ending the call after a few more instructions.

Mi Xiaoliu set down the phone. 

Next time I won’t tell the truth.

Sitting on the police station bench, she gazed pitifully at Yiwen.

“Sorry Xiaoliu, I never told you – I’m actually a cop. Don’t tell anyone, okay? I’ll treat you to something nice later.” Yiwen clasped her hands together and stuck out her tongue in an exaggerated cute expression.

Even though she knew this childish display would have far less impact coming from a “boy” to another boy.

Any problem could be solved by treating Mi Xiaoliu to good food – he was wonderfully easy to handle. At least more trustworthy than that Jim fellow who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Thanks to the identical uniforms, Mi Xiaoliu still didn’t realize she was the somewhat famous White Whale.

Evening had fallen. Gloria, who’d only come along for the excitement, had been practically dragged away by her family’s maid.

Yiwen and Xiaoliu weren’t left waiting either – Raven had arrived in her car at the station entrance ten minutes prior.

There was nothing more for Yiwen to do here. No need to deal with Amari Yota’s robots for now – just go home quietly and wait for good news from above.

With so many ability users in this world, there was no way they’d let that bastard run wild forever.

Raven pulled open the car door and ushered Mi Xiaoliu into the back seat—an oddly distant gesture, considering the front passenger seat was empty.  

From the rearview mirror, Raven glanced at her daughter but said nothing.  

Just the fact that she’d had to pick Yiwen up from the police station was irritating enough. Now, Yiwen had dragged Mi Xiaoliu in for questioning like some kind of criminal? The girl’s mental state was fragile to begin with. Add in the classic “good cop, bad cop” routine from TV dramas…  

Raven’s opinion of law enforcement plummeted even further. She could only hope Mi Xiaoliu wouldn’t be left with lasting scars.  

———-

The moment they got home—before Yiwen could even finish kicking off her shoes—the telepathic liaison’s voice echoed in her mind:  

“Something strange just happened. All our agents in the Dream World were forcibly logged out. Their sleep reverted to normal—same with every other player.”  

“Huh?” Yiwen blinked. “Isn’t that… good?”  

“The problem is, we didn’t do it. Someone else did.”  

“Easter?” Yiwen caught on fast.  

Thanks to Mi Xiaoliu’s tip, Amari Yota had turned his attention toward Easter. Word was, the Little Demon King had stormed the branch location Mi Xiaoliu mentioned—swiftly.  

Not many survivors were left. The lab had been rigged with self-destruct charges, designed to erase both evidence and witnesses.  

Aside from the supercomputer Amari demanded, only a handful of test subjects had been rescued. Some, still restrained, had tried to kill themselves the moment they were freed—no faith whatsoever that the authorities could protect them. The whole scene reeked of despair.  

It sounded like something out of a horror story. And yet, it had all happened right above their city. What kind of hell had those people endured?  

If anyone could take down Amari Yota now, it was Easter.  

But that wasn’t necessarily good news. If Easter could deal with him… then Easter was worse.  

“We’re not sure if Amari’s dead yet. Leave the rest to us. Just… keep wearing the device when you sleep, for safety.”  

“Got it.”  

—————-

Meanwhile, Mi Xiaoliu retreated to her room.  

She opened her System.  

Not to spin the gacha—she didn’t have much money left, and Heli’s child support payments to Raven obviously weren’t for her to spend.  

Instead, she frowned.  

There was something new in her System Space. Something she didn’t remember acquiring.  

She recognized it, though. From cartoons.  

A machine gun. 

…Weird.  

She materialized it.  

An object born in the Dream World now existed in reality—and with a heavy thud, it crashed onto the floor, nearly crushing her foot. The sheer weight of the weapon made it impossible for her to lift.  

“Xiaoliu? What was that noise?” Yiwen’s concerned voice came from the hallway.  

“Nothing.”

“Oh, call me if you need help moving anything…” Yiwen’s voice trailed off as she prepared for her nightly memory-retention gaming session at the police station.  

Mi Xiaoliu ran her fingers along the heavy machine gun, its form shimmering before transforming into something else entirely—a bizarre hybrid between artillery cannon and massive blade. The process felt exactly like using the magic comb to change hairstyles; the weapon’s appearance shifted according to her mental image.  

“Master, this is an item from the game world…” Sasha explained, sounding genuinely surprised. “You accidentally stored it in System Space before logging out last time.” Even she hadn’t realized System Space could preserve game items’ properties when transferring them to reality.  

As an auxiliary program, Sasha didn’t fully understand all of System Space’s functions—she couldn’t even use it herself. Even the discovery that items could be transferred into human bodies had been Mi Xiaoliu’s own breakthrough. Without that, her suffering would have lasted much longer.  

“Master should sleep now! If we collect more items from the game world, we’ll be unstoppable!” Nevermind the limited storage capacity.  

Most importantly—if they could obtain a universal antidote, they might actually be able to neutralize the Black Element! This was practically cheating!  

“Mmm.”  

It didn’t take long for Mi Xiaoliu to drift off, hugging a pillow tightly.  

Heli had warned Raven about the girl’s habit of clinging to something while sleeping—without an object to hold, she’d inevitably kick off the blankets and end up tangled in them. So Raven had provided two pillows.  

Psychology books suggested this was a sign of deep-seated insecurity.  

Tonight’s dream was different.  

Not just different—utterly alien.  

An endless void of darkness, broken only by drifting green fragments of corrupted code. Xiaoliu might as well have been the last being in existence.  

She took two tentative steps forward. Though her feet registered solid ground, the complete absence of reference points made it impossible to tell if she was actually moving.  

Deciding against wandering aimlessly, she simply stood still, watching the digital debris float past.  

“Sasha?”  

“Master, this… exceeds my knowledge base,” Sasha admitted, utterly useless.  

“Heh. What an interesting coincidence, little Mi Xiaoliu.”  

The electronic voice carried an eerie human cadence, its words echoing unnaturally. The floating code fragments suddenly scattered before coalescing into four enormous, spectral faces that circled Mi Xiaoliu like vultures.  

“Eyes that suppress abilities? No wonder you came straight to me. I could previously connect directly to your brainwaves, but this new game world must have triggered your body’s self-defense mechanisms?” The faces merged, finally resolving into Amari Yota’s likeness.  

Unremarkable features—downturned eyes, freckles, thin lips.  

Frankly, he looked pathetic.  

“You’re a tragic case, Mi Xiaoliu. Or should I say… Subject Sixth Fractal?”  

“Sixth Fractal?”  

“Seems your background is more impressive than I thought. Oh, but don’t flatter yourself—to them, you’re just a convenient tool.”  

The four faces merged into Amari’s smirking visage.  

“Yours is a sad story. But would you like to hear an even sadder one? About an unremarkable boy who suffered relentless bullying?”  

“No.” Mi Xiaoliu shook her head, cutting off his self-justifying monologue.  

It wasn’t meant to spite him—she genuinely had no interest in tragedies. She preferred fairy tales, the kind found in cartoons.  

Amari froze for exactly one second before snarling:  

“Then DIE!”