Chapter 79

Chapter 79: A Flick On The Forehead

“Open your mouth.” Raven’s expression was dark as she held a spoonful of food to her daughter’s lips.  

Yiwen obediently accepted her mother’s feeding.  

For an ESP officer in Fanzui City, getting hospitalized three times in a month for different injuries was practically routine. Ninety percent of the medical fees would be reimbursed—the remaining ten percent wasn’t covered to discourage reckless behavior that endangered one’s life.  

Not that anyone was usually foolish enough to push it. Getting hurt meant pain, the risk of death, and—on top of all that—the exorbitant cost of hospital food. The meal Raven was feeding her had little meat, tasted awful, and was priced significantly higher than outside.  

Having money was one thing. Wasting it on things that weren’t worth it was another.  

This time, Yiwen’s injuries were severe. A laser-like energy had melted away a section of her left arm, bone and all. The fact that it could be reattached perfectly was thanks entirely to the contributions of regenerative-type ability users to medical science.  

The treatment was divided into several sessions, and it wasn’t fully healed yet. Without painkillers, the agony remained, and she was advised to avoid moving it for the next few days.  

This line of work really was high-risk.  

“See if you’ll do it again. You deserve the pain. Next time, I’ll knock your head clean off.” Raven poked Yiwen’s forehead with her finger.  

Yiwen lowered her head and stayed silent.  

Next time, I’ll still do it.  

“Regret it yet?” Raven set down the food container and looked at her seriously.  

“No.” Yiwen’s voice was soft.  

“Was a normal school not good enough?” Raven snapped the lid shut, her anger making her faint crow’s feet more pronounced. She even blurted out, “Your father pulled so many strings to change your records to ‘ability-less’—”  

“Sis, I need to talk to her alone.” Officer Chen appeared in the ward without warning, three fresh scratch marks from human nails streaking his face.  

He tactfully ignored the legally questionable statement Raven had just made.  

“Talk? No talking. Resign today.” Raven stood up, her tone sharp. “Did you forget what you promised me?”  

Officer Chen mouthed a silent response.  

Whether Raven understood or not, she tossed the half-eaten meal onto the bedside table and stormed out, glaring at Chen and pointing at his face as she passed.  

Not descending into a full-blown tantrum was the last shred of her dignity.  

Officer Chen said nothing.  

Being a cop in this city meant occasionally facing the wrath of colleagues’ families. The scratches on his face were proof of that. Compared to some, Raven was remarkably restrained.  

“Your classmate just happened to pass by that area. He has already gone back.” Officer Chen sat by Yiwen’s bed, carefully omitting the fact that someone had died at the scene last night.  

The flashlight revealed no signs of struggle. The cause of death was a clean slash to the throat, with no evidence of post-injury resistance. Fox’s ability had drawn only darkness.  

Either it was an ability user who manipulated consciousness—or someone far more dangerous.  

Night Demon (Nightmare).  

Information related to Yiwen’s father couldn’t be shared with her. It was an unspoken agreement among those who knew White Whale’s true identity. Aside from Barrett, who never knew when to keep quiet, everyone else honored that silence.  

Before Jim tricked Mi Xiaoliu into going there, he had already informed his father. So the police weren’t surprised that Yiwen had seen her—though Jim’s undercover status remained confidential to most.  

“Bingyuan Ya is dead. Brutally. At least three types of lethal toxins were found at the scene. The Devil witnessed her fighting the girl in black, but then a pink mist covered everything. By the time our people arrived, only Bingyuan Ya’s corpse remained.”  

“Is that so?” Yiwen lifted her head, a faint light returning to her eyes.  

That little bitch really didn’t die. And here I was, feeling bad for her. 

Relieved, Yiwen mentally reinstated her sadistic plan of three hundred groin kicks followed by three hundred “chidori”.  

“Was this just a personal grudge?” Yiwen asked.  

It made sense. That girl did kill people, and killers inevitably made enemies. Someone wanting her dead wasn’t surprising.  

“You can think of it that way.” Officer Chen wore the expression of a man who knew more than he was willing to share. “Also, the zombie case is closed. Bingyuan Ya was responsible for that too.”  

He paused for two seconds. “The homeless woman you spoke to at the encampment? She’d been dead for over half a month.”  

“…What?” Yiwen was stunned.  

A ghost story? Come on, I’m still a girl. 

“It’s true. The cause of death was the bacteria found inside the pseudo-humans.”  

Hearing that, Yiwen already had an idea of what Officer Chen would say next.  

“That bacteria has a preservative effect. The people you saw ‘living normally’ were actually corpses being puppeteered the same way the pseudo-humans were controlled.”  

So many deaths, yet no one had noticed. Who paid attention to the odd behavior of the homeless? Even if they dropped dead on the street, people would just step around them like roadkill, muttering about bad luck.  

“…”  

————————  

“I’m sorry.”  

Mi Xiaoliu knelt obediently, head bowed in apology to Heli.  

In her understanding, this was the highest form of repentance.  

Heli, bare from the waist up, traced a finger over the thin scar beneath her chest. A wound that would be fatal to an ordinary person was no small matter for her either.  

The pens hadn’t simply pierced her heart—between the outer shell and the ink tube was a gap where flesh had been gouged out. Far worse than a clean stab.  

Fortunately, in this era, timely treatment made such injuries manageable. Heli hadn’t gone to the hospital. She hadn’t brought much to this city, but healing agents were an exception.  

The hard part was performing surgery on herself. What kind of doctor would cut into their own chest?  

Something felt off. Easter had never assigned missions to the Third Fractal before. What were they planning?  

The remaining Sentinels had been cleaned up by the Foboler. The skeleton was left behind—no research value—and the signal jammer wasn’t retrieved. No fingerprints, anyway.  

The rest wasn’t Heli’s concern. She was just an ordinary school nurse who happened to own a building. Nothing more.  

Glancing at the girl who had caused all this, Heli pinched her middle finger.  

Mi Xiaoliu, still kneeling, shuffled forward on her knees and offered her forehead.  

“Thock!”  

A sharp flick.  

Heli flicked again. Just as painful. No mercy.  

When she raised her hand a third time, Mi Xiaoliu flinched slightly—but still leaned in obediently.  

Heli relented, helping her up and dusting off her knees.  

The girl had been scared. It wasn’t intentional.  

That was the main reason Heli didn’t spank her. The other reason? Her chest still ached. Best to avoid vigorous movements.  

“I’m not her.” Heli repeated, though she looked nearly identical to the person in Mi Xiaoliu’s memories.  

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu believed her.  

“Afraid of me?” Heli asked.  

No answer.  

“Do it again, and I’ll spank you.”  

“Spank?” Mi Xiaoliu tilted her head.  

And with that, the matter was settled.  

No explanation for why she resembled the girl’s memory. No questions about Mi Xiaoliu’s connection to Shen. No attempt to clarify her origins.  

Next issue.  

“Your teacher said you skipped class.” Heli brought it up as if it were more serious than a pierced heart.  

When the fat teacher had come to the infirmary to complain, she hadn’t believed it. How could such an obedient child skip school?  

Yet, she’d spent a long time searching for her.  

“Raised hand.” Mi Xiaoliu replied.  

“Doesn’t matter if you raise your hand.” Heli lifted her hand.  

Mi Xiaoliu reluctantly offered her face, making Heli pause.  

She had only been tucking her hair behind her ear—not preparing to flick her again.  

“Did a classmate tell you to do it?”  

“Tell?” A new word.  

“Did a classmate make you skip?” Heli rephrased.  

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu nodded.  

“Who?”  

“Jim.”  

Heli committed the name to memory. She would be having a long talk with Jim’s parents.  

“From now on, leave things to the adults. Your only job is to study.” She pinched the girl’s expressionless cheeks, then—as usual—began teaching her.