The night was no longer quiet.
The rose on the table wilted slightly, as if reacting to the message.
Yirenda slid the holographic screen aside, her long fingers smooth and deliberate. Her bare legs crossed beneath the silk sheets, the cold of the digital light reflecting off her pale thighs.
She wasn't trembling. She was calculating.
"Alive," she whispered again. Not dead. Not buried. Not lost.
That meant her entire childhood had been a lie.
But now wasn't the time to break. Now was the time to move.
She stood, wrapping herself in a sheer, black robe that barely whispered against her skin. The Cipher interface flickered again—this time glowing red.
[ALERT: Unauthorized surveillance detected]
Origin: University Sector. Room 5-B.
Protocol: Eliminate threat or risk exposure.
She smiled.
Her university was supposed to be neutral ground. A place of talent, influence, and image. Not a battlefield.
But tonight… she would paint it red.
1:47 AM
Yirenda moved like a shadow. Black boots. Black gloves. No trace. Her golden eyes scanned the hallway of the Honors Dorms, where only the top-tier prodigies lived. The ones with billion-dollar futures and secrets darker than coal.
Room 5-B belonged to Professor Lin Xuan—a man who'd always smiled at her a second too long, praised her with strange metaphors, and asked questions no professor should ask.
She didn't knock.
A single touch to the lock—one encrypted pulse from her Cipher core—and the door clicked open silently.
Inside, he was awake. Sitting in the dark, sipping red wine.
Like he knew she was coming.
"You don't waste time," Lin Xuan murmured, setting his glass down. "You saw the picture, didn't you?"
Yirenda didn't answer.
She stepped in. The door closed behind her with a quiet click.
"You lied to me," she said.
He chuckled. "I protected you. I gave you information. I made sure—"
Her heel crushed his wine glass. She was already standing over him.
"You watched him," she whispered, "for ten years."
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
"And now you're selling me out."
"I had no choice," he said quickly. "They're watching me now. You've drawn too much heat—"
She placed her hand on his chest. He flinched. Not from pain—yet—but from how intimate her touch was.
"You shouldn't have sent the photo," she said, voice low. "You revealed too much. And now Cipher considers you... disposable."
His eyes widened.
[Cipher: Activate Heartpulse Disruptor]
Her fingertips glowed.
"Yirenda—please—"
She kissed his cheek gently.
Then let the energy surge through his chest.
He died smiling. Not because he wanted to—but because the Cipher made sure his nervous system locked in pleasure, not pain.
She whispered to his still corpse:
"Never touch what's mine again."
3:10 AM — Monastery District
A hidden cloister beneath the old quarter. No electricity. No digital surveillance. Only silence and robed priests pretending they didn't recognize her.
Yirenda wore a nun's cloak now—white over black. Her lips still tasted like fire.
The Cipher had told her that a forbidden record was hidden here. One that detailed the original Cipher creators—and one of their assassinated daughters.
The monks led her through winding corridors lit by candlelight.
She knew they were watching her curves. She let them.
One of them—a younger one with shaking hands—offered to guide her personally. She accepted.
"I've heard of you," he whispered. "The girl with the golden eyes…"
"You've heard too much," she said softly.
And when he leaned too close—too curious—she slid her blade beneath his chin and whispered:
"Tell me where the archive is. Or I'll make your silence permanent."
Back at her penthouse, hours later
Yirenda dropped the blood-stained habit into the fire.
She stood in only her bra and underwear, staring into the flames, skin glowing gold.
The Cipher buzzed.
[Assassination attempt detected: 08:35 AM. Location: Studio Lot 7. Weapon: Drone Sniper]
Options: Evade. Ambush. Return fire. Seduce.
She smirked.
"Let them come."