The green light within her still slumbered, showing no sign of awakening.
Shi Geye lifted his head, twirling his pen between his fingers.
Inside the car, the little girl's eyes were wide with tears. Her scarf, which had been tightly wrapped, strangely unraveled. Her mouth opened like she was about to cry, lips forming a soundless word: "Daddy…"
From behind the glass, her voice couldn't be heard. The muffled boom of the explosion was likewise sealed inside.
Then, all at once, the car window was smeared with red flesh and blood, fogging over completely.
It was from both passengers — the mother in the driver's seat had been too close to her daughter, caught within the circle of death. Their bodies were obliterated together.
Only after witnessing this did Shi Geye lower his head and return to his sketching.
In the lower-right corner of the page, the only remaining space, he scribbled out a rough sketch of the antique car's front end, and next to it wrote:
"After cooling off for a while, the engine started working normally again."
One sheet of paper.
Four comic panels.
A family of three was erased, just like that—leaving behind the antique car Shi Geye wanted.
He put down his fountain pen, then began writing on a virtual screen with his finger, instructing the people nearby:
"That car should be usable now. Clean it out. It's filthy."
His subordinates bowed respectfully and left to carry out his order.
He messaged Scorpion Man:
"I'm tired. Going back for lunch. Have them find another car after that. We should be able to head out soon."
Shi Geye lazily closed the black leather sketchbook and tapped the control panel on his wheelchair, turning himself around.
Before leaving, he glanced at Pei Ran.
There was a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Like someone who had stumbled into godlike powers and now took pleasure in manipulating life and death—not just to show off in front of his underlings, but to relish the shock on a new audience's face.
It was also a warning:
With just a flick of his pen, the tape on her face would fall off. She'd make a sound—and then she'd explode.
Don't get any ideas.
Pei Ran had seen people die. She'd even killed. In the underground bunker world, death was an everyday occurrence—people fought and died constantly. She was used to it.
But there, people killed out of desperation, for survival.
They didn't toy with lives like this.
Shi Geye could've easily ordered his men to seize the antique car and leave that family behind.
It was just a car.
Pei Ran lowered her gaze, avoiding his eyes.
Her submissive posture seemed to please Shi Geye.
He looked away, gestured for someone to bring her along, and wheeled himself forward.
Pei Ran flexed the fingers of her mechanical hand.
Her whole body was weak. She couldn't even make a fist—her fingers curled slightly, uselessly.
But her thoughts were crystal clear:
I want to crush him.
If her strength returned, she'd grab his pale neck and twist—snap.
W had silently observed everything. Only now did he speak:
"Intentional homicide. Subject classified as L15 or higher in terms of threat level. If resisting capture and posing an immediate danger to others, lethal force is authorized."
His voice was colder than ever, laced with an icy edge.
Too bad even if Shi Geye was classified L800, it wouldn't matter.
W had no weapon now.
He'd been disarmed. His casing had been pried open. His glowing blue brain was exposed.
Pei Ran wasn't in much better shape. She was so weak it felt like she'd been cursed—her legs wouldn't hold her up, and she could barely move without someone dragging her along.
Human and sphere, both in pretty bad shape.
For the first time, Pei Ran felt a strange sense of camaraderie with the AI.
W asked, "You still can't use your ability?"
It seemed he, too, very much wanted to see Shi Geye torn in half.
Pei Ran replied, "I wish I could."
But she couldn't.
She and W had no ability to resist. The fact that they were still alive was lucky in itself.
Shi Geye led the group down winding streets.
Pei Ran was being half-dragged by two of his underlings, one on either side.
One of them wore a high-collared black leather jacket that covered half his face. His right arm was a mechanical prosthetic, and to show it off, he'd sliced off the right sleeve from shoulder to wrist—exposing the entire metallic limb.
The arm was unapologetically artificial, no synthetic skin or disguise—just raw machinery. The hand was shaped like a raptor's claw, complete with finely engraved scales and inch-long curved hooks at the fingertips.
Pei Ran glanced at it and thought:
With a hand like that, there's no way he can hold a pen. Must be a pain during meals. And I don't even want to think about how he goes to the bathroom.
She had recently read the Federal Safety Code for Bionic Prosthetics.
It clearly stated:
"No prosthetic limb may exceed the normal functionality of a human limb."
No normal human limb has talons.
This guy's arm was clearly illegal.
The metal sphere was about two or three meters away, hanging with its launcher and her backpack in the hands of Scorpion Man.
W noticed her staring at the raptor-claw arm.
He said, "There are lots of gangs and rogue groups in this area. Illegally modified prosthetics like that are common. People make all kinds—some even swap their forearms for guns."
Now Pei Ran understood why no one had paid special attention to her mechanical arm, even after she used it to quickly take down several people.
The guy with the claw arm was also curious about hers.
He kept glancing at the sliver of wrist exposed beneath her sleeve, occasionally flexing his claw.
Clack. Clack.
His joints made a dramatic cracking sound every time he moved—like cracking knuckles, but louder and sharper.
As they passed a street corner, he suddenly jabbed the wall of a nearby shack.
His hooked claws pierced the sheet metal like butter.
He retracted them, admiring the four holes he left, then turned to Pei Ran to see her reaction.
She didn't even look.
She was deep in thought.
According to W, Shi Geye's drawing-based ability was classified as a rare "Order" type.
Her own power, which also created effects through writing, probably fell into the same category.
But he clearly had much more experience than she did.
He'd used his ability repeatedly just now, with no visible cooldown.
Still, his control wasn't perfect.
If she could write something into existence—like the torn medicine box fragment—then in theory, he should be able to draw objects into being too.
Like that antique car.
Yet he was still out here hijacking others' vehicles.
So perhaps he couldn't create solid matter after all.
He couldn't unlock W's weapon system either, nor heal his own legs, nor force that mother and daughter to open the car door.
So his power, for all its flare, was still extremely limited.
Not so different from her own.
That tiny medicine-box scrap she'd conjured last night was still tucked in her pocket.
In myths, gods created all things from nothing—that's what made them gods.
True creation was the highest power.
Pei Ran could feel the dormant green light stirring inside her.
Maybe it was the comparison with Shi Geye, but for the first time, she felt a flicker of ambition toward her own ability.
The street was eerily quiet. Only the shuffling footsteps of the group and the soft grind of wheels on pavement broke the silence.
Pei Ran thought to W:
"I wonder when that psycho plans to let me recover."
W was quiet for a moment before replying,
"Pei Ran, I think the reason he didn't kill you—and the reason he did this to you—might be... predatory. Be careful. I'll help you as much as I can."
He didn't use his usual bubble tone. His voice sounded genuinely concerned.
Pei Ran understood what he was hinting at.
"You're an AI. You understand intentions?"
"Of course," W replied flatly.
"I've reviewed far more criminal case files than any human law enforcer. I'm very familiar with how low human males can sink when driven by reproductive urges."
Pei Ran thought for a moment.
"Honestly, I don't think it's about that. Feels like he has another agenda. Want to bet on it?"
"I'm in," W said immediately. "If you lose, help me fix my folding arm—I suspect you actually can. If I lose, I'll sing for you using bubble voice."
He added, "If my arm gets fixed, I might be more useful next time."
Trying to barter a song for an arm—he might as well have lobbed a calculator at her face.
Pei Ran smirked. "We'll see."
The group finally stopped at two tall black gates.
Someone inside opened them, letting Shi Geye's group through.
Inside was a small courtyard. A whole row of antique cars stood parked.
They were all different models and conditions. People were checking each one—it looked like these had been looted.
Pei Ran's eyes scanned the lineup.
W followed her gaze. "What are you looking for?"
She replied, "Picking the one I want."
W paused.
She looked like she was shopping for a car—completely overwhelmed by the options.
W tried to lighten the mood:
"If you don't have strong feelings about color, I suggest the red Volet Swift Phantom. It's a sixty-year-old model—fully electric, manual drive."
Pei Ran asked, "Why? That white one looks newer."
W sounded like a charming secondhand car dealer, professional and patient:
"The red one belonged to a wealthy man in White Harbor named Chen Xiaohan. He was a collector with a whole underground garage. His cars were all well-maintained. The fact that this one made it here suggests it's top-tier."
The car had made it, but its owner likely hadn't.
W added,
"I also zoomed in on its dashboard. Battery's nearly full. It uses a key ignition—and the key's still in it."
Sounded perfect.
Pei Ran nodded. "Alright. That one it is."
Her tone made it sound like she'd just put down a deposit in thin air.
The group walked past the row of antique cars and headed further inside. Tucked deeper into the lot was a cluster of makeshift buildings, staggered in height. Just like the houses out on the street, these were black metal cargo containers stacked two stories high, with simple metal staircases linking the floors.
The clawed man had a tight grip on Pei Ran's arm and dragged her to the door of one of the first-floor units. He kicked it open.
The room looked like it had been used as a storage space—boxes stacked haphazardly, thick layers of dust covering the floor, the crates, everything. The walls had been sloppily painted white over the original black; the brush marks were so rough that the dark underlayer still showed through in patches. Two windows were cut into the wall, facing the courtyard.
The clawed man had grown impatient after dragging her all this way. Now that they'd arrived, he shoved her inside without ceremony.
Pei Ran's legs were still too weak to support her. With that sudden push, she collapsed straight onto the dusty floor.
The clawed man didn't spare her a second glance. The door slammed shut behind her with a metallic bang. She heard the scrape and click of a lock being fastened from outside.
Pei Ran waited until she was sure he was gone before attempting to move.
Her arms had regained a bit of strength, slightly better than before, but her legs still felt like jelly—standing was out of the question.
Shige Ye had described it in the comic like this: The stiffness finally faded, but right after the episode, the body was too weak to function.
Just like he'd written, "The engine cooled down for a bit. The car's back to normal." All of it made sense. It tracked like something that would really happen.
She had just had an "episode," so her limbs were drained. If she waited long enough, they should gradually return to normal.
The quickest way to recover would be for Shige Ye to draw again—but that, of course, wasn't going to happen. Not only would he refuse, he might even take the opportunity to hit her with another round before she could recover.
Pei Ran couldn't stand. She crawled slowly across the floor toward the wall.
It took effort, but she finally made it, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.
Barely two meters of crawling, and she was already dizzy and breathless, her heartbeat pounding.
The green light still hadn't returned. No matter how hard she called for it, it wouldn't respond. While trying to flex her fingers—clenching and unclenching, again and again, trying to hasten her recovery—she quietly listened to the sounds outside the building.
Footsteps on the stairs. More than one person. Probably those men checking the vehicles—they were heading up to the second floor.
In her mind, Pei Ran called out to W: "W, where did you go?"
W had said their communication range was far—farther than she could imagine.
Sure enough, even though the little W orb was gone, the voice was still right by her ear:
"They took me to the third room on the left side of the second floor, facing the courtyard. I'm on a table. My launch module, and your backpack—they're both here."
The medicine case was in the backpack. He knew exactly what she cared about most.
W continued: "Someone just brought over food. Looks like they're having lunch."
Shige Ye had mentioned they'd leave after lunch. But how long would this lunch take?
Not long after, there were footsteps again. The door burst open. A tall, broad-shouldered man—the one with the scorpion tattoo—stood in the doorway.
He wasn't here to bring food. His hands were empty. He turned sideways to block the entrance with his body.
Shige Ye rolled in behind him in his wheelchair.
His face was pale—he really did look exhausted. He leaned back in the chair, his shoulder-length hair falling to one side. But his posture remained elegant, controlled.
Resting on his lap was the familiar black sketchbook, open. His fountain pen was still in hand. His weapon—always close.
He glanced at Pei Ran, slumped on the floor, then raised his wrist and typed something into the holographic screen on his wristband, showing it to the scorpion man:
[Go eat first. Come back later.]
The scorpion man gave a respectful bow and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Now it was just the two of them—Shige Ye and Pei Ran.
Pei Ran stared at him silently.
Her wary expression made Shige Ye chuckle. He curved his lips slightly, moved the wheelchair a bit closer, then stopped in front of her. With a flick, he expanded the virtual screen and wrote:
[Scared? Want to guess why I brought you along?]
Pei Ran: Because you're a fucking psychopath?