Chapter 27
The silence in the living room was so thick you could have carved a three-bedroom flat out of it. Wei Wu stared at the Yun Xi who had split into a red-and-white tag-team, his skull buzzing louder than the ti he’d been sward by lesser demons. Milu hugged her staff in the corner, jade-green eyes flicking frantically between the crimson-tempest big-sis Red Cloud and the silver-haired ice-fairy White Xi; her brain-cpu was seconds from catching fire.
Then—
“BEEP-BEEP-BEEP—!!! Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap!”
The CAMCC ergency communicator strapped to Wei Wu’s wrist—disguised as a knock-off sports watch—went berserk, vomiting strobe-red light and an alarm like a square-dance speaker with a busted throat. A male voice howled through the static:
“Ergency call! All able bodies! South City’s ‘Star Whisper’ old library just blew! Not TNT—Shadowmare! Energy reading spiking to Class-C, hotter than a rolling vat of mala hot-pot! Worst part—there’s civilians inside! At least two! Sound like kids! Repeat—kids alive—kzzt—save—”
The signal died cleaner than Wei Wu’s laggy ho internet, leaving the watch to flash like it was screaming, “Look at , I’m trying!”
“Damn it!” Wei Wu slapped the watch, nearly smashing it. “Shadowmare, library, and toddlers?!” Military genes kicked in; twin-witch schizophrenia could wait. Eyes blood-shot, he scanned the room. “Gear up! Hostage rescue!”
Milu’s staff almost clattered to the floor. “The library? Two blocks from our campus! Seniors, what do we do?!” She looked instinctively at the two Xis.
White Xi—limited-edition glacier—sat lotus-straight, ethereal blue gaze drifting south. The silver-blue phantom bracelet on her left wrist shimred; on the coffee table, the Eternal Dream: Pri Abyss Crack gave a single faint pulse. A needle-like pain, as if soone were embroidering on her brain, arrived via invisible Wi-Fi. Her brows never twitched, but inside she sneered: Tch, overti again. A witch’s KPI is 24/7.
“Location! Sit-rep! You piece-of-crap watch, wake up!” Wei Wu roared at the dead communicator, then swung to the more reliable Xi. “Boss Bai, you’re up! Scan it—people or ghosts? How many heartbeats?”
White Xi closed her eyes: perception online, connecting to Moonlight-WiFi... South Branch Old Library detected...
She reopened them, voice flat. “South City, third floor, Children’s Reading Area, approximate. Filth index: sewer-grade. Life signs: two, faint, juvenile. Spatial structure: currently being kneaded like play-dough by Shadowmare.” Translation: dood.
“Kids?!” Milu’s eyes watered. “Senior, please!”
“Ugh, what a pain!” On the sofa, Red Cloud—limited-edition TNT—catapulted up like a stepped-on cat. The crimson-indigo phantom on her right wrist strobe-flashed disco-style. The word “kids” flipped her Yun-xi protection protocol, temporarily overriding the factory-setting grouch. “Old Wei! Quit dithering! Let’s go stomp sothing!”
She tried to slap the table, forgot she now inhabited a petite witch body, and nearly launched herself off the couch. That only made her angrier.
White Xi’s gaze slid to her, voice AI-cold. “Target Shadowmare: viscous, treacherous, packs psychic pollution. Not brute-force friendly. Your...”—database search for polite—”current status: high-risk, Crack warning. Forcible entry success
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