Chapter Twenty-Five: Two Battlefields

"Bang!"

Seeing Lu Mingfei strolling through the middle of the parking lot—the very epicenter of the clash between the Lionheart Society and the Student Union—a Student Union member felt both indignant and amused. He raised his gun and fired.

But then, the impossible happened.

A mist of red erupted from the member’s chin, the immense kinetic force lifting him off his feet and sending him flying. Yet, Lu Mingfei, who had been his target a split second ago, had vanished.

This irrational scene stirred the vigilance of everyone in the Student Union. They began casting glances in all directions, searching for Lu Mingfei’s trail.

Only Caesar threw himself to the side, shouting, "Watch out!"

No sooner had he lunged than the spot where he had been standing was struck by a large-caliber sniper round.

With only Chu Zihang and a distant sniper left on the Black team, he had no concern for the rules of fair combat. Seizing the moment as Caesar lunged and lost his footing, Chu Zihang shot forward like an arrow, blade swinging!

He unleashed an unimaginable burst of speed, making his long sword—and the arm that wielded it—seem to dissolve into a streak of brilliant white light.

"Clang!"

The crisp sound of steel clashing rang across the battlefield. Caesar, in his haste, swept his black hunting knife in a semicircle. The blade’s shadow froze in mid-air, colliding with the light Chu Zihang had unleashed.

Because he had been dodging the sniper fire, Caesar was off-balance. In his rush, he could only muster sixty or seventy percent of his strength. Chu Zihang’s strike sent him reeling, his body leaning back as he stumbled and retreated several steps.

How could Chu Zihang let such an opportunity slip?

His eyes were burning like molten gold, his frame as straight and slender as bamboo. He lacked Caesar’s hulking build, but as he exerted force, his meridians bulged, showing a faint blue-black hue—a sight that any seasoned martial artist would recognize as a master of internal boxing.

Chu Zihang did not retract his blade. Gathering his strength, he struck again with the exact same posture and trajectory, crashing into Caesar’s "Diktator." Then came a third, a fourth, a fifth… with every strike, Caesar’s body shuddered, forcing him to retreat even further.

The sound of clashing steel wove together; before the sparks of one strike could fade, the sparks of the next were already showering down.

It was Chu Zihang’s trump card: "The Thirteen Flashing Blade-Breaks"!

Caesar’s defense was already crumbling. He had lost the initiative from the very start; it was no exaggeration to call this a "catastrophic opening." If Chu Zihang hadn't been careful with his "Muramasa," recklessly scattering blade light everywhere, Caesar’s stance would have been shattered and he would have been defeated long ago.

Caesar still had twelve men left with combat capability—eleven shock troops and one sniper. Chu Zihang had only his lone sniper. Yet, the awkward reality was that despite their numerical advantage, they could only watch helplessly as their leader, Caesar, struggled to fend off the onslaught.

In truth, they no longer had eleven men. Four bold souls, unafraid of the sniper, had formed a squad to rush in and aid Caesar, only to be picked off one by one by the Lionheart Society’s sniper. The remaining seven ran fast enough to find cover, not daring to even peek out.

A sniper with god-like marksmanship, a fine rifle, and a secure position—that was all it took to exert such suppression. Without a counter-sniper or overwhelming fire support, they were like the God of Death checking off a list; every wave of a hand meant another life taken.

If Caesar weren't locked in such a tight engagement with Chu Zihang, the Lionheart sniper would likely have taken him out with a single shot as well, fearing only a friendly fire incident.

The Student Union had a sniper too, one no less capable than the Lionheart Society’s. Why hadn't she fired?

Many people subconsciously looked up. Though they couldn't see the top of the church behind them, they imagined her: hundreds of meters away, dozens of meters in the air, a beautiful girl with long, slender legs lying prone behind her scope, her dark red hair and silver clover earrings swaying gently in the breeze.

...

Nono’s hair and earrings were indeed swaying gently.

"Huh? How did our 'S-Class' big shot turn into a pig’s head?"

"Don't be so stingy. Can't I take a joke?"

"Hiss—are you crazy?! This is a school!"

"Hey! Stop, stop! I'm going to scream!"

For a girl, the first intimate physical contact is always somewhat special. Nono had never felt any real affection blossoming between her and Lu Mingfei, yet she found that she didn't feel much anger at being harassed, either.

Still, her face was redder than her hair. She tossed the sniper rifle aside and hopped back two steps, scolding Lu Mingfei:

"You have no conscience! You're living off the money I earned from my part-time jobs!"

This made Lu Mingfei feel a bit sheepish. He changed the subject: "Didn't you say Caesar was loaded? Why not shake him down for his gold coins?"

Nono rolled her eyes beautifully. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you, boss!"

Lu Mingfei didn't feel like he was biting any hand. Knowing that his expenses were paid for by the blood and sweat of a beautiful girl only gave him more motivation to spend.

He had originally intended to knock out the teeth of the person who had been teasing him, but after sprinting up there and realizing it was his self-appointed "good teammate" Nono, he could only settle for a bit of playful roughhousing as a minor lesson.

Lu Mingfei remembered something. "Right, let me ask you: since we came back from *that* place, have you had any strange feelings?"

Nono was a natural high-sensitivity individual. Her keen perception was something even the well-traveled Lu Mingfei had never heard of, so he wanted to know if she, who had also made contact with Nyarlathotep, had noticed anything.

When it came to most Mythos events, the less you knew, the safer you were. If you didn't provoke them, they generally wouldn't bother with you. But the "Crawling Chaos," Nyarlathotep, was an exception. He loved to toy with and deceive humans. Staying blind and deaf was worse than actively investigating; at least it provided some peace of mind before falling into despair.

Nono looked alert, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you thinking? I took medicine that same day."

Lu Mingfei, whose knowledge of modern physiology was lacking, was bewildered. "Medicine? What medicine? I'm asking if you feel like you're being watched by someone, or if you feel like your life is discordant, as if you're being manipulated."

This touched a sore spot for Nono. The little witch couldn't worry about the awkwardness of misinterpreting Lu Mingfei anymore. Usually, she had to bottle up her frustrations, leaving only a pretty, cute, and slightly crazy image for outsiders.

Finally having someone to vent to, her beautiful face fell. "When am I *not* being watched or manipulated?"

"Aren't you not being watched or manipulated right now?"

That was true.

With Nono’s sharp tongue, she couldn't immediately think of a retort. The sordid business with Lu Mingfei clearly wasn't the work of those damned old people in her family. But even if it wasn't someone else’s manipulation, Nono didn't have much reason to be happy.

Who would be happy about being manhandled by someone they just met for no reason?

Nono refused to speak, and Lu Mingfei didn't force her. He emphasized once more: "Keep an eye out for anything illogical in your daily life—strange things that haven't happened before. Let me know if you find anything."

With that, he prepared to head downstairs to enjoy the food bought with a beautiful girl’s blood and sweat. Nono’s clear, dark-and-white eyes darted around, and she gnashed her white teeth before suddenly hopping back and pulling the pistol from her dark red combat suit.

"Heh heh! Hands up! Let sister take a shot!"