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Chapter 156: The Other Grandpa

A massive thundercloud floated above Central City, capturing the attention of many. But they quickly realized the chaotic superpower particles swirling inside—this was so Peculiar’s doing!

Beneath the storm, Lyra faced countless lightning strikes that charred the ground around her. Many Levs and buses rushed to a halt, colliding and causing a series of accidents.

The patrol sergeant clenched his teeth in frustration. ’How can these military madn create chaos in my area?’

"First, handle the accidents and evacuate the crowd!"

Lyra sprinted down the street, psychokinesis swirling around her. Schedar moved in her hands like it had a life of its own, blocking the lightning strikes coming from all directions.

Each hit felt like a hamr on her head; the gap between level six and level eight was way too vast.

Before long, she sensed her psychokinesis faltering, her body growing weary from the overload.

Ansel stood atop a high building, watching the small figure that seed impossible to defeat.

He waved his hand, sending down even more furious lightning that slamd her against the wall. The residual arcs grazing her body, causing her to shudder.

Ansel’s eyes were cold and calm as he decided to end it quickly.

Suddenly, a flash of crimson light shot toward him, triggering a sense of danger. He swiftly raised his hand, hurling a lightning ball to counter it.

Rapid fire struck him, the level eight power forcing him to split his focus.

’What’s happening?’ Ansel was astonished.

According to intel, the bodyguards Lyra hired should have been stopped by his n—so why was there still support?

’No, wait...’ Ansel looked closer and found that was a superpower-enhanced weapon.

On the rooftop, Morrison aid through his scope, holding a superpower-enhanced gun. Lyra had given him good equipnt.

The thunder overhead rumbled; the opponent was too strong.

Morrison imdiately jumped out the window to escape.

In the next mont, a thunderbolt struck the building, shrouding it in darkness before it collapsed. After dealing with the sniper, Ansel realized Lyra was gone.

On the wide, chaotic street, a silver-armored figure sped forward. Lightning rained down behind her as she jumped and flipped, pushing her last reserves of strength.

Ansel grew impatient—he had been outsmarted by Lyra! She had intentionally taken the hit, waiting for his n to delay him before making her escape. Even he could not catch up now.

"But do you think you can escape like this?" Ansel muttered darkly into his earpiece. "She’s heading to the spaceport."

As the spaceport gates ca into view, two familiar figures blocked the way—the Shedd family seniors.

Their clothes billowed in the wind, their eyes filled with regret and pity for their younger counterpart, yet their actions were decisive and fierce, fueled by superpower particles.

Lyra gripped a miniature bomb tightly—this was her last gamble!

The bomb had enough power to breach the level eight Peculiar’s defenses, and she had Schedar for protection and healing, provided she didn’t get knocked out. As for the lives of those nearby, she decided not to care.

If they died and needed soone to haunt, they should go find the Shedds.

Just as Lyra was about to press the button on the bomb, a sharp knocking sound echoed through the air, followed by a strange wave of sound that radiated outward.

The glint in the eyes of the two seniors dimd, and they opened their eyes wide in shock, clearly stunned by the unexpected blast.

Lyra’s surprise was brief; she quickly dashed into the spaceport.

Ansel, no matter how bold he was, dared not create chaos here. Watching the silver figure slip inside only fueled his anger.

His gaze landed on an old man with white-streaked blond hair standing on a nearby rooftop.

He was in a long, dark blue aristocratic outfit, a layered cravat around his neck, and a rose pinned to his chest.

He leaned on a cane intricately carved with rose vines. Despite the wind tousling his hair and giving him an air of weariness, he stood tall and dignified.

Ansel’s expression darkened as he sneered, "Calvin, must you always interfere and ruin my plans for my family?"

Benedict Calvin smiled faintly, his wrinkles adding to his elegance. "I couldn’t save my daughter then, but I won’t let my granddaughter fall victim to your family. Even if it costs

everything."

With the military’s power on the rise, the governnt sustaining the Alliance had beco almost unshakeable, leading to the slow decline of old nobility like the Calvin family.

Conflicts with the Empire and the Alliance’s expansion had put many territories under military control, forcing even the Marquis of Roses to tread carefully—otherwise, he wouldn’t just let his daughter die.

"Sounds good," Ansel said, gathering a lightning ball in his palm and tossing it casually. "So you want to hand the future of the Calvin family over to that young woman?"

Benedict struck his cane again, unleashing sound waves that shattered the incoming lightning. "That child has her own future; the Calvin family has ours. I just can’t bear to see her hurt." He cast a glance at Lyra standing at the spaceport entrance.

A hint of sadness and regret flickered in the old man’s eyes. "As her useless grandfather, I should at least try to help."

With a deep sigh, he turned and walked away. Lyra didn’t see him, but she recalled the presence that had saved her monts before.

After hesitating for a mont, she stepped inside the spaceport.

Inside, travelers crouched in fear, covering their heads from the "threat" outside. The spaceport patrol blocked the entrance, weapons raised, shouting, "Who are you?!"

Lyra raised her hands, coughing dramatically. "Cough, cough! I’m a refugee!"

"Then co in!"

As she passed through the verification passage, her ticket info transmitted to the staff terminal. "Confird as a traveler."

The patrol lowered their weapons.

Once inside, the staff exclaid, "You’re Lyra, from NMA!"

Panic in the air eased slightly, and many travelers lifted their heads, eyes filled with curiosity and excitent, as if they were seeing a celebrity.

She nodded gently and found a quiet corner to stand in.

The sudden "attack" lasted less than ten minutes before news reports rolled in with explanations. "According to sources, a Master Peculiar conflict erupted near the spaceport as the Legion Skywalkers pursued a fugitive. The fugitive has been captured, order has been restored, and injured civilians are receiving dical treatnt. Currently, there are no reported fatalities..."

As Lyra prepared to board the ship, she quietly watched the screen showing Ansel being interviewed. He appeared righteous, offering apologies for the disruption to the public.

"Wait for

to co back," she whispered to herself.

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