With his account about to be frozen and corporate killers closing in, Lu Jin burns almost all his cash on a wasteland "expedition pack," arming Li Xing to the teeth and igniting a shared thirst for battle that turns a rainy alley into a warzone's first move.
The rain in the lower city felt like someone hawked up phlegm over the whole district—thick, cold, and stuck in your lungs.
The only light that wasn't sickly orange came from a twenty-four-hour unmanned convenience store, its fluorescent glare buzzing like a dying insect.
"Welcome to Federal Chain Convenience. How may we serve you," the electronic greeter droned as the glass door slid open.
Lu Jin stepped inside, bringing with him a draft of air that smelled faintly of blood and sewer mold. An armed security bot in the corner swiveled, red sensors sweeping over his soaked hoodie and cheap shoes.
He ignored it and walked straight to the oden stand.
Steam curled up from the broth.
He grabbed a paper cup, scooped a ladle of soup, and fished out two skewers of the cheapest radish and konjac. Only when the heat pressed into his fingers through the thin cardboard did the chill in his bones retreat a fraction.
He picked a bar stool by the window.
From there, he could watch the glass reflection and see everything behind him in the alley outside.
"Kh…" He swallowed down the itch in his throat and lowered his gaze to the cracked screen of his terminal.
The last message still floated at the top.
[Good luck, D-rank trash.]
An unknown sender.
No need to guess who they were with.
Lu Jin flicked the message away with his thumb, lips twitching in something that wasn't quite a smile.
Thor Industrial's dogs had good noses. Rat had barely finished cashing in his chip diagram, and the original owner already knew exactly who'd sold them out.
The next step was obvious: freeze the snitch's accounts, starve him out, then clean up the body.
For a corpse, money was useless.
For someone whose account was about to be frozen, money was only good for one thing.
Spending.
"System," Lu Jin thought, eyes narrowing on his reflection in the glass like a wolf scenting prey. "I'm going to Resource Point No. 7. Thirty-two point five kilometers out. Mutant beasts and radiation pits along the way."
"Give me the best plan you've got."
As if it had just been waiting for the cue, his phone buzzed violently. The usual dark UI exploded into a shower of gaudy fireworks, complete with a cheap firecracker sound effect.
[Congratulations, Host! Detected: extreme death-seeking—uh, adventuring enthusiasm!][Matching 'Stay Alive a Little Longer' package…][…Match complete!]
A full-screen, full-color sales pop-up slammed onto the display, accompanied by a ticking sound that instantly raised blood pressure.
[Wasteland Expedition Family Bucket (S1 Season Limited)]Want to go treasure hunting but afraid of dying halfway? Want to be a hero but your knees keep catching arrows?Deep Space Echo has your back!
Package includes:
["Wasteland Wolf" Light Exoskeleton (Illegally Modded Civilian Model) ×1]Description: Technically "civilian grade," actually demolished and rebuilt by a certain deranged mechanic. Carrying capacity +50 kg, hydraulic assist +300%, with built-in "Kick Down the Door" function. Put it on and you're the slickest menace on the dunes.
["Thunderstorm" Electromagnetic Nailgun ×1]Description: Silent and punchy. Fires special alloy nails that can be retrieved and reused. (Certified budget-friendly.) Won't kill tanks, but more than enough to staple most mutants to the nearest wall for display. (Friendly reminder: if target is not listed in the "Conventional Biological Catalog," please first check whether your health insurance covers "concept-level damage.")
[Tactical Compressed Ration Pack (One Week Supply) ×1]Description: Tastes like chewing wax. Keeps you alive seven extra days when you run out of food. You're not paying for flavor; you're paying to not die.
Limited-time price: ¥18,888.00(Original price: ¥99,999! Time left before revert: 00:59)
"Eighteen thousand…" Lu Jin's eyelid twitched.
He'd just risked his life to scrape together ¥25,000. After paying off the loan shark and shaking down his landlady, what was left in his account hadn't even had time to cool off.
And Deep Space Echo wanted to shovel it all into its maw in one bite.
"Why don't you just rob the Federal Reserve while you're at it," he muttered through his teeth, finger hovering over the "Pay" button.
A small line of text popped up at the bottom of the popup, faint gray on black.
[Reminder: Robbing the Federal Reserve is illegal, silly. Also, your account is currently flagged as "High Risk." Estimated freeze time: 10 minutes. Are you sure you want that balance to go to the people trying to kill you instead?]
"Damn it."
For a moment, Lu Jin wasn't sure who he was cursing—the corporation, the system, or the entire rotten world.
He pressed "Pay" anyway.
[Payment Successful. Remaining Balance: ¥2,971.00][Thank you for your generosity! Supplies are en route. May the Holy Resonance bless both you and your wallet.]
[Wasteland · Sector A-11 · Blackstone Bunker]
Outside the bunker, the storm still howled, carving pale scars into the horizon.
Inside, the air was warm and dry.
Li Xing was on her knees, carefully scrubbing at the floor near the entrance, humming under her breath. She jumped at the sudden, muffled thud from outside.
Her fingers tightened nervously around the strawberry nutrient bar she'd been treating like a scepter all day. She stared at the door, eyes wide.
"Listener-sama said… there would be a delivery," she whispered to herself, as if repeating a spell.
Drawing a shaky breath, she hit the door control.
The airtight seal hissed. Cold wind and snow slammed into the foyer.
A large metal crate with black-and-yellow hazard stripes sat in the snow just outside, vents still hissing steam. On its side was the silhouette she already recognized: the girl reaching for the stars—Deep Space Echo's mocking little mascot.
Li Xing gritted her teeth and dragged the crate inside, boots skidding on the floor. When the lid popped open—
For a moment, the gray wasteland might as well have sprouted a sun.
Inside lay a gleaming exoskeleton frame, metal cold and smooth, hydraulic lines coiled like the tendons of some steel beast. Beside it rested a brutal-looking black nailgun, its magazine loaded with thick alloy nails the size of her fingers.
Little Rock, who had been hiding in the corner, poked his head out.
His eyes nearly rolled out of his skull.
"T-That… that's the gear only Ark enforcers have…" he stammered, legs going weak as he sank right back to the floor. "Saintess… are you going to war?"
Li Xing didn't answer.
She reached out with scarred fingers and brushed the exoskeleton's metal plating. It was cold—cold like lab restraints, like operating tables.
But this was different.
This was armor.
Armor sent by the Listener.
Armor that meant he trusted her to stand in front, not lie on a table.
She swallowed, stepped into the frame, and fumbled with the harness.
"Ka-chk… zzz—"
Servos whined softly as the frame cinched around her body, automatically adjusting to her narrow shoulders and too-thin waist. The weight settled across her like a second skeleton.
And then—
It didn't feel heavy at all.
She lifted an arm hesitantly. The hydraulics answered with a smooth hum. Her hand cut through the air faster, steadier, stronger.
Li Xing picked up the "Thunderstorm" nailgun with both hands… then, to her surprise, found she could shoulder it one-handed.
A red laser dot flickered to life at the barrel.
She swept it experimentally across the wall—
And accidentally dragged it right across the front of Little Rock's pants.
"Waaah! Please don't kill me! Don't kill me!" he screamed, clutching himself and rolling on the floor.
A sharp, sour smell spread through the foyer.
"Bzzz—"
The white "holy spirit" in the corner—the cheap robot vacuum—lit up in furious red, instantly rerouting to the new contamination. It rolled full-speed at the puddle and smacked directly into Li Xing's newly plated boot with a solid thunk.
Li Xing looked down at the robot stubbornly ramming her heel.
Then up at the reflection on a polished metal panel.
A girl in an armored exoskeleton stared back at her—helmet open, cheeks smudged with dirt, eyes too bright. Wrapped in steel, she looked a little like the "valkyries" she'd once seen in a torn pre-war magazine.
Her face heated.
She turned toward the empty air where she knew the Listener's perspective floated.
Awkwardly, she adjusted her visor, then tried to copy a heroic pose she remembered from the magazine—feet apart, gun held across her chest.
It came out more penguin than warrior.
"S-So, Listener…" she whispered, the words nearly lost in the faint hum of the bunker systems. "This outfit… does it look… good?"
[Reality · Convenience Store]
In the harsh light of the store, Lu Jin covered his mouth with the back of his hand, shoulders shaking.
It took him a second to admit it.
He was laughing.
In this night—when he should be worrying about being shot in an alley, dissected on a lab table, or both—he was quietly laughing at a girl on the other side of reality, trying to pose cool in a war machine.
Warmth flared in his palm.
[Detected: Ward "Li Xing" has acquired high-grade combat gear!][Current emotional state: Absolute confidence, budding desire to "conquer," plus mild embarrassment (fermenting nicely).][Triggering special feedback: War Fever (Tier I)!]
[War Fever (Tier I)]Effect: Forced adrenaline surge. Pain reduced by 30%. Physical strength temporarily boosted to baseline adult male level. (Duration: 10 minutes.)Side Effect: Post-buff fatigue doubled.Note: At times like this, backing down is not an option.
Heat roared down his veins like molten metal.
His pupils tightened. The world snapped into sharper focus.
Through the convenience store's front window, out beyond the reflected shelves and dangling snack packs, the alley came into crisp view.
Three figures in gray raincoats were closing in on the entrance in a loose fan formation.
They walked in perfect sync.
Their boots avoided puddles without looking. No splashes. No footsteps.
Professionals.
Cleaners.
None of them carried umbrellas. Every right hand disappeared under a coat flap, held just so.
Gun draw stance.
"Fast response," Lu Jin murmured.
He tipped the paper cup back and drained the last of the broth. The hot liquid hit his stomach and exploded outward like a small, controllable bomb, adding to the heat already boiling in his blood.
No panic. No trembling.
With Li Xing's warlust singing in his nerves, his own anger sharpened into something bright and ugly.
He slid off the barstool.
On his way to the door, he plucked the bamboo skewer out of his oden cup. In his War Fever–boosted hand, the flimsy stick flexed with a faint crack, like a blade leaving its sheath.
"Perfect," Lu Jin said as he pushed open the glass door.
Cold wind slapped his face, flipping his bangs back and baring eyes that now gleamed too bright for the dark.
"I just burned eighteen thousand."
His voice was calm. Almost conversational.
"I'm really not in the mood."
He stepped into the rain, bamboo skewer flashing under the streetlight like a sliver of steel.
Far away, on a dead world of ice and glass, Li Xing pushed open the armored door of Blackstone Bunker. The storm shrieked and clawed at her exoskeleton.
Here, in a reeking lower-city alley, Lu Jin walked into the narrow throat of the night, three silent hunters waiting ahead.
Two worlds.
Two fronts.
Two hunts beginning at the same time.