Chapter 159

Chapter 159: Memory Card (Two-In-One)

Today was the final exam, but Yiwen was absent due to health reasons.  

Not that it stood out much—these days, plenty of people were taking sick leave.  

Though not designed to test espionage skills, the exam hall was as lively as a Chunin Exam, with self-proclaimed geniuses gathering to compensate for their usual lack of study through cheating.  

Even the habitual slackers panicked when the atmosphere demanded it.  

Lu Mingxue had swapped to regular sunglasses early on, tossing privacy laws aside. A mere glance at others’ answers through her peripheral vision was all she needed, effortless.  

Until she accidentally looked at Mi Xiaoliu.  

Her brain blanked for two full seconds, leaving her with a forty-minute reaction delay debuff.  

Jim’s ability was useless for cheating, but his father had recently forced him to learn Morse code—though he’d only grasped the basics.  

Now, he stared at Mi Xiaoliu’s hand idly tapping the desk. Even if he handed in a blank paper, he had to figure out: Why did Old Liu ride Yiwen to attack the Fallen City during the Festival of Light?  

Two proctors, two extremes. Old Gao couldn’t be bothered to catch cheaters even if he saw them, while the fat one would hover for ten minutes if someone were so much as coughed too loudly.  

“Quite the spectacle. A proper final exam turned into a farce,” remarked the Chairwoman during her hallway inspection, peering through the window. “What’s up with that Mi Xiaoliu?”  

Mi Xiaoliu’s test paper differed from the others in both color and size.  

“That’s a fourth-grade elementary exam. Heli’s request. Didn’t you say in that meeting to accommodate the school nurse’s demands whenever possible?” the dean answered.  

Truthfully, “school nurse” here solely meant Heli—but singling her out for special treatment would’ve been too obvious.  

“Seems his mother (Heli) isn’t doing much for his education,” the Chairwoman nodded, moving on.  

“That Yiwen didn’t show?”  

“Which student? Should I check—?”  

At the dean’s level, only the exceptionally troublesome students stood out.  

“Never mind.” The Chairwoman shook her head. “Give her full marks for this exam.”  

“Eh?!”  

Skipping a make-up test was one thing, but this?  

————————  

“No beds left at the hospital. You’ll have to recuperate at home,” said the frog doctor at Yiwen’s bedside, cradling a spherical object resembling a head.  

Not the one Yiwen had chased—but a replica he’d crafted after studying it. Minor material differences might’ve slightly compromised its functionality.  

The rest had been too thoroughly shattered for proper research.  

Aside from the elusive miracle herb, this was the most fascinating thing he’d encountered in his life.

“Should I call you lucky or unlucky? By the time it reached your foot, it could only secrete that last bit of toxin—just enough for you to get a taste. At least it only causes fever and paralysis.”  

“Are you certain you killed the Red Prince?” Officer Chen stared solemnly at Yiwen lying in bed.  

Truthfully, this wasn’t an ideal time for conversation—Yiwen still had a damp towel on her forehead, her fever not yet broken.  

If not for the doctor accompanying him, Officer Chen would’ve been kicked out by Raven wearing her wholesale 50-Mira high heels.  

“Wasn’t it all in the footage? Heart, neck, even stabbed through the eye socket. Never done anything that disgusting before,” Yiwen muttered, tossing the towel aside and burying her head under the blankets.  

The incident had prompted the liaison officer to suggest she seek psychological counseling from her mother.  

The fever left her feeling awful, her dreams nonsensical—she’d dreamt of losing to the Black-Clothed One again, only this time the girl stripped off her boots and stepped barefoot on Yiwen’s head, while Yiwen nuzzled it like a submissive puppy…  

Waking up disgusted with herself, she vowed to do the same to that bitch when she caught her—just with their roles reversed.  

“Hmm… It’s just that the scene was too thoroughly destroyed. By the time we arrived, the body was gone. And during pursuit, everyone encountered interference from an unknown force.”  

Officer Chen didn’t specify what “unknown force.”  

Within a three-kilometer radius, gravity had gone completely haywire—not like some green-skinned stand’s ability to invert gravity direction, but true chaos.  

You could be standing fine one moment, then take two steps forward only for gravity to suddenly point upward, sending you skyward a few meters before switching sideways. One misstep sent you spinning endlessly through the air—without propulsion-based flight, returning to ground became nearly impossible.  

Even trained astronauts couldn’t endure such torment. Within that zone, nearly all living creatures lost consciousness from gravitational chaos. Those unaffected by sheer luck didn’t dare move.  

Fortunately, whoever caused this didn’t intend indiscriminate harm—no one got crushed by flying cars or debris.  

All while flattening an entire forest. Officer Chen didn’t need to guess who could pull this off.  

“Can you stop waving that thing around? It stinks,” Yiwen snapped, pointing irritably at the doctor’s fake head.  

Between the fever and this psychological torture, she felt nauseous.  

“This is a treasure!” The frog doctor shook his head, deeming Yiwen uncultured.  

“Then go home, build an altar, and burn incense daily.”  

Whether from fever or PMS, Yiwen’s tone was vicious.  

It gave Officer Chen some insight into how she’d dispassionately stabbed the Red Prince so many times—must’ve been that time of the month.  

He pitied her future boyfriend.  

“Also, your classmate didn’t make it,” Officer Chen added, referring to Zhang Zikun. 

“Gunshot to the heart, submerged in icy water laced with at least five viruses—not even an LV3 Regeneration ability user could survive.”  

What struck him was the parents’ reaction when notified—more resignation than grief.  

“Can you preserve him? We’ll collect the body next week. Work’s too busy right now,” Zhang Zikun’s mother had said.  

Perhaps when sending their son to this city, they’d factored in Fanzui City’s crime rates.  

“Oh.” Yiwen’s response was equally cold.  

They weren’t close to begin with, and it wasn’t like she killed him anyway.  

If the school would guarantee her post-graduate admission over this, she might’ve been willing to shed a few crocodile tears for the guy.  

“Any leads on Xiaoliu’s ability?” Yiwen cared far more about this than Zhang Zikun’s fate.  

“Preliminary analysis suggests shadow manipulation. That’s according to Lady Lasvedo’s intel.”  

During the ‘autopsy’ of the fake Misha, police found the cause of death resembled something bursting outward from within—similar to the Black-Clothed One’s ability.  

But only similar. Slow-motion footage from Yiwen’s chest camera clearly showed a shadow violently expanding inside Misha’s body. One of the Lasvedo servants could do the same.  

“Shadows, huh.” Yiwen rubbed her hands together.  

She wondered if intangible abilities would work on that bitch. Maybe she’d drag Mi Xiaoliu along next time she hunted the Black-Clothed One—this might be her chance for payback.  

Then that bitch would learn the power of a mixed-gender beatdown.  

“Intercepting the virus source, eliminating the Red Prince. If you weren’t too young for promotion, this would’ve earned you two ranks at least.”  

“Then tell me about my father’s case.”  

“I’ve shared everything I know.”  

Yiwen: “(Unprintable vulgarities).”  

Officer Chen ignored the outburst, producing a candy box containing memory cards. “We’ve examined the belt’s memory cards. They document over 600 murdered children, all under fourteen.”  

124 were officially listed as missing persons—their parents still wandering the Federation searching.  

As a psychological suggestion ability user, Officer Chen had to notify the families. Most had already steeled themselves, directing no anger at the police.  

“Some parents in Fanzui City want to thank you in person, including Lady Lasvedo.”  

“Let them thank the dead instead.” Yiwen burrowed deeper under the blankets, uninterested.  

……  

……  

“These are Yiwen’s childhood photos. Guess who this is?”  

In the living room, Raven flipped through a thick album, pointing at a little girl pinning her brother to the ground.  

“It’s Yiwen,” Mi Xiaoliu answered.  

Yiwen used to be so small.  

How strange.  

“You guessed right.” Raven was surprised—not that Mi Xiaoliu recognized Yiwen, but that she showed no reaction to learning Yiwen was female.  

After exams, Mi Xiaoliu had come to visit Yiwen, but since Officer Chen needed to speak privately with her, Raven had pulled her aside to browse the photo album instead.  

“She was so fun as a kid. Look, this is when her dad bought a rabbit…”  

In the photo, little Yiwen happily cuddled a white rabbit.  

Next photo: Little Yiwen wailing in heartbreak upon learning the rabbit was dinner, her eyes swollen into teary crescents.  

Following shot: Little Yiwen cheerfully gnawing a rabbit leg with glee.  

And thus concluded the Yiwen segment.  

“Now this is Toby as a child. Here’s Toby fighting with his sister. This is Toby…” Raven began promoting her son to Mi Xiaoliu.  

She could sense the girl’s waning interest, yet Mi Xiaoliu politely kept listening.  

Truthfully, Toby could probably be decent-looking if he tried?  

But putting herself in Mi Xiaoliu’s shoes—if some boy in her class constantly spouted anime nonsense like “Nyaa~” and “Iku zo!”, she’d steer clear too.  

Unless he was absurdly handsome, rich, and top of the class.  

With a sigh, Raven closed the album and offered Mi Xiaoliu a fruit candy. “Here, have a sweet.”  

“Mmm.”  

Raven patted her head.  

So adorable. A girl like this would be so easy to raise… Maybe I should invent an excuse to have Toby stay at Heli’s this summer?  

Her scheming was interrupted as the two men emerged from Yiwen’s room.  

“Sis, I’ve got work to handle—won’t stay for dinner.” Knowing Raven wouldn’t offer empty pleasantries, Officer Chen politely excused himself.  

The doctor added some instructions about Yiwen’s medication before leaving with him.  

Finally, Mi Xiaoliu could enter Yiwen’s room.  

“What’s with today? Only men in my bedroom.” Yiwen grumbled under her blankets.  

Mi Xiaoliu didn’t answer, sitting beside the bed and peeking at the nightstand—hoping for snacks.  

The tiny motion earned her a pillow swat before Yiwen burrowed deeper into her cocoon.  

“Auntie says to take medicine.” Mi Xiaoliu poked the blanket lump.  

“Don’t wanna move. You mix it—one packet from the big box.” Yiwen’s muffled voice emerged.  

“Mmm.”  

Mixing medicine was within Mi Xiaoliu’s skillset.  

Heli had taught her some medical basics during free time, though abandoned the idea of training her as a doctor upon realizing her disinterest.  

“Done.”  

“Help me up.” A hand emerged from the blankets.  

Her shoulder strap slipped down, revealing lace-trimmed pink fabric beneath the collarbone.  

Blushing but making no move to adjust it, Yiwen studied Mi Xiaoliu’s reaction.  

Mi Xiaoliu grasped her hand. “Up.”  

“……”  

Yiwen’s face twisted slightly.  

He hadn’t reacted like this when facing Senior Gloria’s chest.  

Pushing aside thoughts of Gloria’s more generous proportions, Yiwen took a small sip of the medicine and immediately grimaced. “Too bitter. Add some sugar.”  

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu put her half-melted candy into the medicine and handed it back.  

“…This kind doesn’t even sweeten when melted, does it?” Yiwen took a reluctant sip.  

Indeed, no sweeter.  

Sucking on the candy separately while drinking did somewhat alleviate the bitterness.  

As Yiwen drank, Mi Xiaoliu’s gaze drifted back to the nightstand—specifically to the candy box containing memory cards that Officer Chen had forgotten.  

After police extracted all data, it no longer required stringent protection as evidence, hence why Yiwen could briefly examine it.  

One card stood out—intentionally marked by Rutherford. Tiny text read: Misha Lasvedo.  

Her heartbeat quickened.  

Driven by motives even she didn’t understand, Mi Xiaoliu discreetly transferred the marked memory card into her system space while Yiwen wasn’t looking.  

Mi Xiaoliu is a bad girl who steals.  

“Master, these are called memory cards—they store computer and phone files… Sasha doesn’t really understand how they work, but whatever’s on this one is definitely something the Master shouldn’t see.”  

“Is Misha connected to me?”  

Sasha hesitated. “Absolutely not! Who’s that? Never heard of her.”  

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu believed her.  

Once Yiwen succumbed to the medicine’s drowsiness, Mi Xiaoliu didn’t return home—instead seeking out Sister Hermit.  

She seemed to have disregarded Sasha’s warning entirely.  

Mi Xiaoliu made a paw gesture: “Meow.”  

“‘Meow’ is outdated. Say Big Sister.'” Sister Hermit tapped her forehead, smiling.  

“Big Sister.”  

“Come here.” Sister Hermit extended an upturned palm.  

Mi Xiaoliu obediently rested her chin on it, submitting to head pats.  

AWSL!  

Spiritually replenished, Sister Hermit got to work.  

Expecting some server upgrade task, she found it was just accessing a memory card—something anyone could do.  

Oh well. Free headpats from a cute loli.  

Inserting the card into a tablet, she discovered the 200GB card contained only a few videos.  

Seating Mi Xiaoliu on her lap, she played the first one.  

The perspective showed someone walking through an overgrown jungle path.  

Amid rustling foliage, an unmistakable voice—reminiscent of veteran voice actor Koyasu Takehito—spoke:  

“Attempt 128. Subject A: Gloria Lasvedo. Subject B: Misha Lasvedo… The outcome’s obvious. Gloria inherited the Lasvedo golden-orange eyes. Misha got nothing. Even idiots know which child a family descended from heroes would choose.”  

“That’s the Red Prince’s voice?” Sister Hermit frowned.  

The camera angle shifted, turning to capture the speaker himself.  

It wasn’t the Red Prince’s current appearance—instead, a young man with slightly long white hair and resolute features stared back.  

He couldn’t have been older than thirty, his frame leaner than the current Red Prince’s, with a face radiating such righteousness that no one would ever associate him with a child-targeting monster.  

Without watching further, Mi Xiaoliu directly absorbed the memory card from the tablet into her system space, trembling slightly in the Hermit’s lap.  

That face—it unsettled her, piercing straight through the blank spaces of her memory yet stopping just short of unlocking anything.  

She instinctively recoiled from watching more, like avoiding Wei Shi’s 60-second voice messages she never dared play.  

It wasn’t fear of the man himself, but a premonition that whatever came next would terrify her.  

“Shh, it’s okay…”  

Sister Hermit immediately comforted her.  

This was the first time she’d seen their household mascot so frightened.  

“Master, that was the Red Prince… the man who first killed you, back in his youth.” To ensure Mi Xiaoliu wouldn’t forget, Sasha added, “The one who threatened you with a lighter last time was definitely him.”  

“Mmm.”  

“Master, please don’t extract any memories today, okay?”  

“Mmm.”  

Mi Xiaoliu clutched her chest.  

Sasha had named this feeling before—it was called “hatred.”

[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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