Chapter 150
by Need_More_SleepChapter 150: Foreign Bone
“Ten basketballs, four badminton rackets… Xiaoliu, is there anything you want to play with?”
Yiwen turned her head and saw Mi Xiaoliu slapping a basketball stiffly, like an elementary school kid, her fingers stretched straight. The basketball in her hands might as well have been a rubber ball.
“Take fewer basketballs. After all, several people can share one during P.E. class—most of them just end up standing around chatting anyway,” the equipment room teacher advised, saying something completely unlike what an equipment room teacher should say. “You can take an extra pair of badminton rackets. Students these days love playing that.”
Low learning curve, lightweight equipment. Most importantly, it didn’t require much physical exertion—sometimes, all you had to do was stand still and swing the racket.
“Fair point.”
Yiwen carried a large pile of equipment.
Even though she was the girl, she ended up doing all the heavy lifting. The P.E. teacher was right—Mi Xiaoliu really needs to work on his (her) strength.
“Xiaoliu, I’ll hold the stuff. You sign for it.”
“Hmm… Let me find where the sign-in book is first.” The equipment room teacher closed the camera’s cover and tucked it into his coat—despite it being the height of summer, he was wearing a leather jacket.
He walked up to Mi Xiaoliu and gently nudged her shoulder. “Move aside, Miss Misha.”
Mi Xiaoliu glanced up at him and shifted out of the way.
“This guy…?” Sasha’s voice turned low. “That voice, plus the camera earlier… No, his appearance is completely different, but appearances can be altered. Master, if he makes any strange moves, kill him immediately!”
“Strange, I remember leaving it here… Miss Misha, come help me for a second.” The administrator rummaged through the shelf holding physical exam records, but among the stacks of white documents, there was no sign of a notebook.
No one moved.
“Miss Misha?” He turned to look at Mi Xiaoliu.
Mi Xiaoliu looked up in confusion.
“Teacher, you got the name wrong. Her name is Mi Xiaoliu,” Yiwen corrected.
At first, she hadn’t even noticed, assuming it was just the administrator’s accent.
But come to think of it—had they even introduced themselves? This was Mi Xiaoliu’s first time borrowing equipment. Why would the teacher know her name right away?
The administrator stared silently at Mi Xiaoliu for two full seconds.
It made Mi Xiaoliu uncomfortable, and she retreated toward the window.
“My apologies, I must have mixed it up,” the administrator said with a smile, still searching the shelf. “There was a student before who looked just like you—that was her name. I even confiscated a lighter from her once.”
He pulled out a windproof lighter.
“Teacher, you seem unfamiliar. Have you worked at this school before?” As Yiwen spoke, she walked over to the desk and glanced at its surface. The sign-in book is right here—why is he searching the shelf?
As she got closer, she faintly heard what sounded like snoring beneath her—no, not quite snoring. More like heavy, labored breathing. Not rapid, but the kind that could easily turn into full-blown snoring.
At the same time, Yiwen caught a faint whiff of a pungent odor. It wasn’t strong, easily masked by the leather scent of the equipment room, but a single whiff was enough to make her head feel numb.
Yiwen’s expression shifted slightly.
This isn’t a smell that should be here.
She immediately craned her neck to look behind the desk and, sure enough, saw a balding middle-aged man lying curled up on his side in the leg space beneath it, his mouth slightly open. The desk’s front panel had hidden him from view at first glance.
That’s the real equipment room administrator.
At the same moment, the imposter lifted the lighter toward Mi Xiaoliu and flicked it on.
The distinct blue flame of a windproof lighter—just a tiny flicker, and though it was nearly a meter away from Mi Xiaoliu, it was enough to awaken a fear etched deep into her DNA.
Yiwen heard a sudden loud noise from downstairs—the sound of shattering glass, followed by a girl’s sharp scream.
She spun around, but the white-haired administrator and Mi Xiaoliu were gone.
The window Mi Xiaoliu had been leaning against—frame and all—had vanished without a trace.
Yiwen already knew what had happened.
She rushed to the empty window frame and looked down.
On the concrete below, a small boy lay motionless atop shattered glass, a pool of blood slowly spreading beneath him. His left arm and leg were twisted unnaturally—clearly broken—and beside him lay a window frame.
It looked like a careless student had leaned against a dilapidated window and fallen through it.
“Xiaoliu!”
……
On the sports field, Yiwen frantically carried Mi Xiaoliu toward the infirmary, Lu Mingxue guiding the way, Jim pulling out his phone to ask someone what the emergency number was, and Barrett calmly staring at the bloodless ground…
In the distance, Rutherford held up his camera, recording it all, his smile growing increasingly delighted.
“How fascinating.”
“Why did you do that? Did he offend you in some way?” Zhang Zikun stared in shock at the man he’d assumed was gentle.
The color he saw around Mi Xiaoliu had always been black—but surely he (she) wouldn’t die from just a fall like that?
“Don’t you think he (she) resembles the ‘princess’ from Group 42?” Rutherford countered.
“Huh?” Zhang Zikun was dumbfounded.
No way… That girl was so cute, even her ID photo looked adorable…
“She fell on her own,” Rutherford replied with a smile. “I thought such a short drop would be nothing to her. After all, why else would she have survived falling from such a great height before?”
“Mr. Rutherford?”
Rutherford shook his head. “How amusing. Why would someone be able to survive a meteor crater?”
Something like this—he’d never encountered it before. Not once.
A child who should have died in the midst of a “selection” had strangely survived. Should she be sent to the hell she was meant to reach?
But for a child who no longer held his interest, he couldn’t muster even a shred of enthusiasm.
So, as per the old rules, he left it to a fifty-fifty choice.
Rutherford flipped a coin into the air, waiting for it to land on the back of his hand.
The result wasn’t entirely to his liking, but a choice once made could not be undone.
“A-Kun, what color am I now?”
“Black,” Zhang Zikun answered. “Mr. Rutherford, we should lay low for a while.”
“Mmm…” Rutherford pursed his lips. “And now?”
“Red. A very deep red—almost black.” Zhang Zikun was used to dealing with his arbitrary tampering with the colors of fate.
“Acceptable.” Rutherford nodded, making no further adjustments. He patted Zhang Zikun’s head. “Next, we leave this city.”
“Leave?” Zhang Zikun froze. “But two of our people were captured, and our mission isn’t finished…”
It was too sudden. He’d thought they were going to make a name for themselves in Fanzui City, ensuring no one would forget them.
“As Night Hawks, those captured should be prepared to sacrifice for the team—not force the team to sacrifice for them.” Rutherford smiled, bending down to meet his eyes at close range.
“This isn’t an anime, where one person’s failure demands a risky rescue from all of us. We’re mercenaries. We do anything for money, nothing more.”
“I understand… Sorry.” Zhang Zikun nodded.
“The Little Demon King already knows of my existence. Staying any longer will only lead to ‘bad luck.’ We’re abandoning the mission—but before we go, let’s leave them one last gift.”
Rutherford turned to the Crow Man, whose beak was now half-broken. “Tell that woman our things aren’t so easily stolen. And also…”
He turned to the little girl slowly stepping forward.
“And what will you choose this time?”
————————
“Get out. He’s a self-healer—he’ll be fine.” Heli coldly shooed Yiwen and the others out of the infirmary.
That little white-haired brat annoyed her. When she had carried Mi Xiaoliu in, one hand had been resting on her butt.
Still…
“Why are you kicking us out too?” The school nurse looked bewildered.
This infirmary wasn’t even Heli’s to begin with.
“Stop asking questions. That’s her kid—family business, got it?” Another nurse patted his shoulder, then turned to comfort Yiwen. “Don’t worry too much. You saw it yourself—just a broken arm, nothing life-threatening. Kids’ bones are flexible, and he’s a self-healer anyway…”
“Someone pushed him,” Yiwen muttered, clenching her fists in frustration.
And she had been just two meters away from that person—well within her ability’s range.
Inside the infirmary, Heli looked down at Mi Xiaoliu on the bed.
Aside from being covered in dust and looking disheveled, her external injuries had already vanished. Her glasses had lost a temple, and her twisted left leg had already straightened on its own—bone repair wasn’t something an LV2 self-healer could achieve. If anyone asks, we’ll just say her ability has improved.
But her left arm remained twisted at an unnatural angle from the joint, unrepaired.
Mi Xiaoliu lay obediently on the bed, staring at Heli without crying or making a sound.
At least she landed on her limbs. If it had been her head first, she might’ve died again.
Falling from the third floor had been nearly instantaneous—Sasha hadn’t even had time to warn her. Mi Xiaoliu hadn’t understood the danger. Though Sasha had mentioned that falling from great heights was dangerous, she’d never specified how high—after all, Mi Xiaoliu regularly jumped around at hundred-meter heights in her beginner combat suit without issue.
Heli had also never bothered teaching her basic warnings like don’t touch electrical sockets or don’t lean out of windows.
Heli gripped Xiaoliu’s arm, testing its movement. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm… We’ll need surgery. Internal damage, probably.” Heli pulled out a scalpel.
The infirmary at the ability-user academy was equipped for even transplant-level procedures.
It took an abnormally high dose to successfully anesthetize her—local anesthesia wasn’t an option here.
Cutting through flesh and propping open the wound with a specialized retractor, Heli finally saw the bone beneath.
Tiny fragments from the shattered joint were embedded deep in the flesh—the main source of the pain.
Fragments.
No, not fragments. Components.
Though identical in shape, the entire left arm’s bone structure wasn’t the normal white of human bone.
Instead, it was a dark bronze-black, faintly reflecting the surgical light.
[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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