Kelly froze as her eyes landed on the figure beyond the window—it was Xiao Feng, clad in a sharp, black suit, his expression calm and resolute.
He held a finger to his lips in a silent gesture. Clever as ever, Kelly understood immediately.
She turned to Henry and said coolly, "I feel like having a cup of coffee. Would you mind fetching a pack from my office?"
Henry furrowed his brows. "Miss Kelly, you must be confused. You're my captive now, and you dare to order me around like a servant?"
"Why not? Have you no sense of gentlemanly courtesy?"
Henry scoffed, then nodded begrudgingly. "Fine. I am a gentleman. I'll get your damned coffee."
"Don't forget two sugar cubes. I prefer it sweet."
Grumbling, Henry strode out. The moment the door clicked shut, Xiao Feng swung open the window and leapt inside. He strode swiftly to Kelly's side and drew the Executioner from behind his back.
Tears welled in Kelly's eyes as she gazed at him. "Xiao Feng… you really came."
"I did. I'm here to take you away," he said softly, slicing through the ropes binding her wrists with practiced ease. Then he took her hand and pulled her toward the window.
That simple gesture—his firm grip—sent a surge of warmth through her heart. For the first time in days, she felt safe… protected.
But just as they reached the window, the sound of clapping echoed behind them. Henry stepped back into the room, a slow smile curling across his face. "Ah, how touching. The hero arrives to rescue his damsel in distress. It would make for a fine tale… though most stories like these end with the hero's tragic death."
Two men followed close behind—Charles and a stranger wearing a white mask, a long blade strapped to his back. Behind them marched a dozen heavily armed soldiers, rifles trained on Xiao Feng and Kelly.
Xiao Feng turned, his expression steely. "Go," he said to Kelly. "I'll hold them off."
"No," she whispered fiercely. "I'm staying with you."
"You have to go now. If we both get caught, this whole thing was for nothing."
"And who says it was for nothing?" Her voice trembled with emotion.
Henry raised his hand. "Capture them both. If Xiao Feng resists, shoot to kill. I'll take full responsibility."
Charles cracked his knuckles. The masked man silently drew his blade and stepped forward.
"They're both Level Four Espers," Kelly murmured beside Xiao Feng. "You know Charles. The one in the mask is called Phantom. His ability is fire—white fire. Stronger than Rice's. Be very careful."
Xiao Feng narrowed his eyes. Two Level Four Espers and a small army—not an easy fight. He looked at Kelly again. "This is your last chance. Run."
Kelly shook her head, her voice unwavering. "No. I'll fight by your side."
Xiao Feng stepped in front of her. "I said go! Don't waste another second. There's no time!"
"I won't!" she cried.
"If you stay, I swear I'll never speak to you again in this life."
Tears spilled down her cheeks, but still she stood her ground. "Then let me die with you."
Xiao Feng exhaled sharply. There was no other path now. If they were to escape, he'd have to cut through them all.
With a growl, he launched himself forward like a predator unleashed—lean, swift, lethal.
To Charles and Phantom, his figure blurred into streaks of motion. Xiao Feng knew Charles's power lay in his rock-hard defense, so his first strike was aimed straight at Phantom.
Neither enemy expected the sudden assault. No warning, no hesitation—Xiao Feng attacked with deadly precision. Coupled with his close proximity and desperate resolve, he unleashed every ounce of strength he had.
His blade plunged toward Phantom, while his left hand discharged a crackling surge of electricity at Charles.
In that instant, Xiao Feng revealed his trump card—he was a dual Esper.
Phantom faltered; dual Espers were rare—most were classified as Level Five or higher. He barely raised his blade in time to parry.
Their weapons clashed with a sharp metallic clang. Sparks erupted as the Executioner met the sleek, obsidian alloy of Phantom's blade—long, narrow, and deceptively swordlike, save for the single-edged design.
Across the room, electricity arced through Charles. His rocky hide could once resist such attacks—but not anymore. One of his arms had been replaced with a biomechanical prosthetic, and the exposed metal was a perfect conductor.
With a violent jolt, Charles collapsed.
Yet even as he fell, he lashed out, gripping Xiao Feng's ankle with his mechanical hand.
Phantom's eyes flicked to the opportunity, and he surged forward, slashing rapidly.
Xiao Feng could barely defend himself. He was anchored in place, forced to block Phantom's relentless blows. Blade after blade rained down, the room a blur of steel and sparks.
Phantom's technique was exquisite—fluid, unending, merciless.
From behind, Kelly dared not intervene, lest she distract Xiao Feng or fall to a stray strike. As she moved to help, a gunshot rang out—bang—a bullet struck the ground inches from her foot.
Henry raised his rifle, a smirk on his face. "Don't move, sweetheart. These rifles have a nasty habit of going off."