To lift Jingyi's spirits, Baisha decided on a lavish weekend feast for the crew. Her pick? Hotpot.
On Lanslow Star, tossing fresh ingredients into a simmering pot was rare. Most raw foods, unprocessed for radiation, were indigestible; only a select few were safe. Synthetic meats were fine, but vegetables cost a fortune. Baisha and Yaning leaned carnivorous, unfazed, but Jingyi loved her greens, and Zhou Mi—ever the nutrition zealot—demanded balance.
Zhou Mi's food obsession was bone-deep. Not picky about quality or prestige, he calculated protein, fats, carbs, and micronutrients like a machine. His light-computer even had a nutrient scanner, spitting out detailed breakdowns to fuel his "scientific" meal plans.
"Doesn't that get exhausting?" Baisha asked, watching him analyze a snack for ages.
"I'm used to it," Zhou Mi said. "With 'hypersense,' my mental strength ties to my physical state. As a soldier, nutrition's part of training."
Baisha teased, "The military let you fuss like this?"
Zhou Mi was unfazed. "Officers get tailored meals. Even on marches, rations prioritize nutrition over standard fare."
Baisha pressed, "What about emergencies or battlezones needing special supplements?"
Zhou Mi smirked, dodging her jab. She'd forgotten his ruthless, deep-pocketed streak.
"Kidding," he said, a rare smile flickering. "I've only been to a brutal front once. Earned my captain's rank there. In true crisis, no one tracks their meals."
Chatting, they roamed the store. Passing the drink aisle, Baisha reached for the liquor cabinet.
"You're not fourteen," Zhou Mi said, staring. "No alcohol."
"But you are," Baisha said, shoving two small fruit-wine bottles into his arms. "Check these—perfume lemon and lily apple. Kid stuff."
Zhou Mi returned them to the shelf, unamused.
Baisha sighed. "One day…"
"Never," Zhou Mi said, his obsidian eyes firm. "I'll keep you in check."
"But next year, we're off to the academy," Baisha said, waving dismissively, basket in hand. "Central's on Capital Star—light-years away."
The refined teen behind her paused, grabbed some juice from a cooler, and followed.
That night, the four gathered in Zhou Mi's loft, diving into a lively hotpot. Even across the stars, hotpot's communal joy endured.
Talk turned to Parfen.
"Since that day, Parfen hasn't shown at school," Yaning said, swishing meat in broth. "Heard her dad's got her on lockdown. The school tried mediating, but Luqi House didn't push back. Is her dad really that forgiving?"
None saw the Luqis as refined or reasonable. Parfen's personality didn't sprout from nowhere.
Baisha and Jingyi exchanged glances, probing Zhou Mi about Kangheng LifeTech and its drugs.
"Kangheng's got some fame in the Federation," Zhou Mi said after a pause.
"I mean insider stuff," Baisha clarified. "Like, are they secretly making mental-strength boosters?"
"They've got drugs," Zhou Mi said, frowning. "Short-term mental strength spikes, but it's superficial—no real gains. Effects fade in a year or two. Overuse harms the body, eroding natural mental strength."
"Anything stronger?" Baisha asked. "Real mental enhancement with lasting amplification?"
Zhou Mi's gaze dipped, his face half-lost in hotpot steam, shadowed with depth. "Mental stimulation tech exists, but it needs long-term trials. No short-term breakthroughs yet."
Baisha paused mid-sip of juice, pensive. The topic dropped.
A week later, Parfen still hadn't returned.
Homan, the elusive teacher, appeared with dark circles, warning Baisha, "Things are rough out there. Stay in the orphanage, no wandering."
Baisha, poring over a mech parts manual, blinked. "What's up?"
"Black market's got a new drug," Homan sighed, reeking of tobacco, booze, and oil. "At first, folks thought it was standard—cell boosters, nerve numbers. Some gang types used it, got stronger, fought like mad dogs, thought it was a win. But lately, a few went berserk, caused attacks. Security hauled them off, and they vanished. Chiefs banned the drug; anyone tied to it's gone quiet. No one's digging deeper."
He added, "Jingyi and Yaning still at the fight pits? Call them back."
"Too late," Baisha said. "They left two hours ago. Freeman gave them G1 arena tickets—they're spectating." Freeman, the fighter Baisha once designed gear for, now a G1 star, often hired her. "I'll message them."
Texts and calls sank without a trace.
Jingyi and Yaning didn't return by midnight.
Baisha checked their light-computer trackers—nothing. Either destroyed or in a signal-blocked zone, like the Security Bureau's underground cells.
Homan scoured backstreets all night. Word was, the fight pit's main arena had a disaster—casualties piled up, and security swept everyone into custody or cells.
Jingyi and Yaning, mere bystanders, were known pit regulars.
"Heard a fighter used… you know," a shadowy info-dealer whispered. "Chief Security's livid. Last night's match had bigwigs, not just street rats. No mercy—cuffed and hauled. Spectators might get out soon, but fighters, agents, bookies, and crew? Chief's talking 'clean up the streets, gut the fight pits.' They're in deep."
Homan paid the dealer to forget the chat, stood silent, then returned to the orphanage.
"Now what?" Baisha asked, stunned. "Bail money or…?"
At under fourteen, Jingyi and Yaning faced education, not hard time. A bond usually freed kids.
The fight pit's backers, cozy with security, had run smoothly, building a shadowy empire with off-world reach. Its sudden shutdown was shocking.
"The pit boss is done," Homan said grimly. "Most uninvolved spectators are out. I tried bailing them at the Bureau—denied. Not for involvement, but because…" He tapped his eyes. "They saw."
Baisha froze, then gasped. "The drugs came from Kangheng?"
Homan glanced at her. "How'd you know?"
Security traced the mutant drugs to Kangheng. Mixed in various banned batches, they spread silently in backstreets, prized by those who found them.
Baisha exhaled, relaying Parfen's infirmary scene and her father's words.
"Here's the plan," she said. "Homan, tap your contacts—try Teacher Liao; he's got connections. Zhou Mi and I will hit Luqi House, talk to Parfen."
If the drugs came from Luqi, they were the root. Parfen, a classmate, wouldn't let Jingyi and Yaning rot—hopefully. Worst case, Baisha could leverage Luqi's "secret" for pressure.
They split. Baisha pinged Zhou Mi, who pulled up to the orphanage in a sleek, black-and-gold hovercar—eight-seater, stocked with entertainment and a chilled wine bucket. Rich kid vibes.
The car's autopilot hummed as they swapped intel in the front seats.
"Luqi's in First District," Zhou Mi said, pointing at a map. "Without this car, guards won't let us in. I got us fake IDs."
He handed Baisha an ear-clip device. She clipped it on, and her face shimmered, morphing into another's.
"If things go south, I'll pull my Federation captain rank—assuming they haven't stripped it," Zhou Mi said coolly. "Last resort, I call my uncle."
The "general uncle" card. Normally, Baisha shrugged off elite brats, but in a pinch, she envied that safety net.
The hovercar glided through First District's checkpoint. White and glass buildings stood elegant, spaced for privacy yet easy to patrol.
Five minutes later, they reached Luqi House.
The estate—main building, two annexes—was standard for tycoons. But no lights glowed, save a dim porch sensor.
Too quiet.
Zhou Mi and Baisha exchanged looks. Baisha rang the bell.
No answer. The always-on security system was dead.
Zhou Mi tapped his wrist, releasing two mosquito-sized drones. They soared over the walls, scouting.
The estate's courtyard looked normal—manicured rare plants ringed a second-floor balcony. But one shrub patch was a mess: branches snapped, red berries scattered, footprints chaotic.
A drone dipped closer, revealing a middle-aged man in butler's garb, gut slashed, blood pooling from his orifices. Grim.
Baisha: "…"
Another drone caught a faint gurgle. The pool was a deep, ominous red. A woman in a silk gown floated face-down, her pearl necklace stark against her bloated, pale neck.
Murders. Plural.
Priority: find survivors.
The drones crept toward the main building, but locked windows blocked entry. They scanned through glass into the dark interior—
Click-click. A faint noise from a room.
A drone pressed to the window, its thermal and light sensors sharpening the image: a man in a white shirt, disheveled, blood-specked. He paced a sealed room like a soulless wraith, his pupil-less black eyes wide, skin a taut, pale mask over bones. His jaw hung unnaturally, chewing air, teeth clacking faintly.
Baisha: "…Zombie vibes?"
The golden hair and features faintly resembled Parfen.
The second drone slipped through a vent, detecting life. It zipped to a chaotic study, finding Parfen Luqi alive, in white pajamas, hair matted with sweat, curled under a desk, sobbing.
Outside, a black shadow prowled.
"Two mutants," Zhou Mi said, voice icy with lethal intent. "Neutralize now."
"Save her first," Baisha countered.
Zhou Mi fired a kinetic shot at the estate's lock, disabling it. Baisha pushed the ornate metal door open.
They crossed the courtyard. One mutant was trapped in an annex. Their target: the second-floor study.
Without security, the house was a hollow, opulent tomb. They moved freely, save for a ground-floor door's code lock. Zhou Mi aimed to blast it, but Baisha stopped him. She pulled a small metal rod, aimed at a window, and pressed. A white flash spiderwebbed the glass. One kick opened a man-sized hole.
They leapt in, landing amid scattered debris.
A figure in a white lab coat descended the spiral staircase, clicking eerily.
It looked up, locking onto them. Its mouth split into a ghastly grin, black eyes narrowing. A silent shockwave erupted, scattering debris.
Zhou Mi fired a kinetic bullet. The wave deflected it, sparking into the wall.
It wielded mental strength.
"Like killing a star-beast," Zhou Mi muttered.
He raised his dagger, but Baisha hissed, "Wait—isn't that Parfen's dad?"
Luqi, Kangheng's chief chemist. If this chaos stemmed from a drug, like the fight pit's, how could an expert like him fall to it?
"Can mutants be cured?" Baisha asked, frowning.
"No," Zhou Mi said softly, pausing his attack. "Federation protocol: eliminate on sight. Mutants use mental strength, but it's not human. They're beasts—driven to kill and steal mental energy."
Luqi's former grace was gone. He stared like a dog eyeing bones.
Baisha hesitated. "Let's tie him up first."
Zhou Mi nodded, charging. He breached Luqi's mental barrier, slashing his throat to silence him. The barrier shattered. Baisha bound him with cables from furniture.
"Won't hold long," she said. "You watch him. I'll get Parfen."
Baisha climbed to the study. The door was locked.
Too lazy to break in, she knocked. "Parfen Luqi! You there? Come out!"
Silence, then a sob. Footsteps raced, and Parfen, hair wild, eyes red, opened the door, staring blankly. "You?"
"Who else?" Baisha snapped. "What happened here?"
Parfen's face twisted. She yanked Baisha inside, shutting the door.
"My dad's experiment went wrong," she choked, stifling a cry. "He and my brother… they turned into…" She trailed off. "I couldn't call patrols—useless. Security would kill Dad on sight."
"Short version," Baisha said coldly. "What went wrong? The black-market drugs causing havoc—are they your dad's?"
"No!" Parfen shrieked. "Why would he? His drug boosts mental strength, near-perfect. Why leak it now?"
"Near-perfect," Baisha pounced. "So it's flawed? That flaw turned your dad into a mutant?"
"Don't say that!" Parfen snarled. "He can be saved—with the antidote."
Baisha blinked. "There's an antidote?"
"Yes, Kangheng's HQ has it," Parfen said. "If Dad gets it in time, he'll recover. You didn't see him, did you?"
"He's downstairs, mute but fine," Baisha said. "Listen, Parfen, my friends are in the Security Bureau because of your family's garbage drug. The chief's losing it over these incidents. If Kangheng has an antidote, why not distribute it and end this? Why lock up witnesses?"
"I've been trapped here," Parfen whispered, pale. "They can't release the antidote—it's the unreleased anti-radiation drug."
Baisha reeled. Parfen grabbed her hand, pleading like a drowning soul. "Take me to Kangheng! I have Dad's ID. I can get the antidote. I swear, once he's awake, I'll make him free your friends!"
Baisha paused, then pulled the trembling Parfen downstairs. Parfen saw Zhou Mi aiming at the mutant and gasped, "What are you doing?"
Zhou Mi's moonlit face was emotionless. "Per military code: eliminate mutants."
Baisha waved him off. "Hold up. They're like this from drugs, and there's a cure—antidote. We're hitting Kangheng. Can you stay?"
Zhou Mi's combat skills could handle the mutants, and his status would shield him if security came. Perfect guard.
He frowned. "Kangheng's dangerous."
It was the chaos's source.
"Let me handle it," Baisha said, smirking. "I'd rather not bother your uncle unless I have to."