Morningstar clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, and threw herself out into the pitch-black void beyond the window.
At the same time—
BANG!
Behind her, the apartment door exploded inward in a shower of splinters. The lock gave out with a violent crack, and several vicious figures surged into the room.
The punk in front spotted Morningstar climbing over the balcony railing. His eyes went red with panic and rage, and he roared without thinking:
"Fuck! Trying to run?! Stop right there!"
In a blind rush, he yanked a cheap, battered handgun from his waistband, didn't even aim, and squeezed the trigger toward her silhouette.
BANG!
A harsh gunshot ripped through the night.
By some absurd, nightmarish coincidence, the bullet struck exactly the main rope of the descent device—the one bearing Morningstar's full weight.
Snap.
The rope severed cleanly.
Morningstar felt the handle in her grip suddenly go weightless. The upward tension vanished in an instant.
Then came the brutal, unstoppable sensation of freefall.
Her mind went blank. There was only raw, animal terror.
Her body dropped—accelerating under gravity's merciless pull.
"Aaaaah—!!"
The scream finally tore loose, echoing into the air.
Up on the balcony, the shooter froze in horror at what he'd done. His face twisted into a wail even more desperate than hers.
"No—! Don't die! My money—! No, I mean—don't die!!"
Beside him, the gang boss's eyes went bloodshot. Rage flooded his face, and he smashed a heavy fist into the punk's jaw so hard blood sprayed from the kid's nose and he staggered backward.
"You useless piece of shit! Ten shots, nine misses at the range—NOW you decide to shoot like a damn sniper?! I'll kill you myself later!"
He didn't even spare time to keep beating him. He lunged for the balcony edge, sweat breaking out across his spine as he prayed like a man possessed.
"Don't die! Ancestors—goddess—whatever! Don't you dare splatter!"
He wasn't thinking about a human life.
He was thinking about money.
"At least… at least claim the Dennies first before you die! My Dennies!"
—
In midair, Morningstar's face drained of all color, pale as paper.
Her brain had completely shut down. Terror strangled every thought except one shrieking, looping certainty:
I'm going to die. I'm going to hit the ground. I'm going to die.
The city lights spun and blurred beneath her, a smeared, upside-down river of color. Time stretched into an agonizing eternity and yet raced toward an immediate end.
In the middle of that terror, one thought flashed with absurd clarity:
Living this high up with only a descent device really isn't safe. I should've had a parachute too.
Too bad.
That hard-earned lesson would never make it into The Star Guide to warn rookies.
She shut her eyes in despair, bracing for the impact—
And then—
Footsteps.
Fast, sharp, closing from far to near—steady and powerful, cutting clean through the wind and even through her own thunderous heartbeat.
The next instant, there was no bone-splitting pain. No cold, hard ground.
She slammed into something soft—a firm, controlled embrace that caught her whole body.
The impact was absorbed, her plummeting momentum redirected and damped by a strength that held her like steel wrapped in velvet.
She didn't feel her body break.
She felt only a violent, dizzying jolt and the full-body sensation of being wrapped in something warm and alive.
The whiplash of surviving—of going from certain death to impossible rescue—hit her so hard her mind simply stopped.
A warm hand patted her back once, steady and reassuring.
Only then did Morningstar's stiff, frozen body remember how to move.
Her lashes trembled wildly. She opened her eyes—slowly, cautiously—as if reality might shatter again if she looked too fast.
The first thing she saw was a pair of clear eyes filled with urgency.
A young, sharp-featured woman was close enough that Morningstar could see the tension in her brow and the tight line of her lips.
"Are you okay, miss?"
The voice was urgent, held tight by restraint.
"Did something happen to you? I heard a gunshot."
The woman's gaze flicked rapidly over Morningstar's body, checking for wounds, then snapped upward toward the building with instant vigilance.
"And—did you see a group of gang members?"
Morningstar stared at her, mind still struggling to process the whiplash of survival. She tried to speak, but only managed a breathy, incoherent sound. She shook her head, then immediately nodded.
Her whole body trembled, exhaustion and elation fighting inside her.
She looked at that concerned face and couldn't stop the thought that rose, helpless and bright:
Today really is my lucky day… isn't it? I lived through that.
—
Then a head thrust out of the shattered window above—broad-shouldered, thick-necked.
The gang boss.
At first his expression was pure agony, like he was watching a mountain of money fly away.
But the moment his eyes locked onto Morningstar—alive, unharmed, held in a stranger's arms—his face warped into greedy ecstasy.
"HAHA! She's alive! She's alive—good! That's great!"
He shouted so loudly the sound bounced through the air, dripping with hunger.
That voice was a bucket of ice water poured straight over Morningstar's heart.
Her pupils shrank. The last traces of color fled her face.
Terror seized her again—instant and absolute.
She didn't even have the presence of mind to thank the woman holding her.
She screamed, voice breaking into a razor-sharp shriek:
"Run—!!"
The woman holding her—Zhu Yuan—frowned. Before she could calm Morningstar, a clear call rang out from behind.
"Zhu Yuan!"
Zhu Yuan snapped her head around.
A small, agile figure was sprinting toward them—Qingyi.
Qingyi's eyes flicked over the scene—Morningstar, Zhu Yuan, and the boss at the window—and sharpened into a blade. No words were needed. One look transmitted everything.
Zhu Yuan understood instantly.
No hesitation.
She set Morningstar carefully against the wall at the corner, quick and decisive.
At the same time, Qingyi reached them. Her three-section staff clicked with a crisp series of mechanical locks—
ka-da, ka-da—
and extended, merging into a straight, rigid pole.
Qingyi thrust the pole forward with a clean, snapping motion.
Zhu Yuan grabbed the other end in perfect sync, braced like a drawn bow, and exploded upward through her core.
Then she released.
Whoosh—!
Qingyi shot upward like an arrow—like a swift, lethal swallow—rocketing toward the high window.
The movement was so smooth it looked choreographed, power and precision fused into something almost beautiful.
Up above, the boss was still basking in the joy of his target surviving.
He didn't even understand what was happening until the uniformed figure was already flying at him.
His grin froze. Horror replaced it in a heartbeat.
"Shit—cops?! Why am I this unlucky?!"
He cursed, yanked out his handgun, and fired wildly at Qingyi midair.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Muzzle flashes flared in the dark. Bullets shrieked through the air.
Qingyi's eyes didn't move.
Her wrist snapped.
The staff spun into a dense blur—a wall of green shadow.
Clink! Clink! Clang! Clang!
A staccato storm of metal impacts erupted as sparks exploded outward.
Every bullet was knocked away—deflected, slapped aside—none coming within half a meter of her.
Down below, Morningstar saw it all.
Her mouth fell open.
For a second she forgot to be afraid. Only pure shock remained.
"My… god…"
She whispered, stunned.
"So… strong…"
Qingyi twisted in the air and reached the window.
The boss, fumbling to reload in frantic terror, looked up—
And Qingyi actually smiled, friendly as if she'd bumped into an acquaintance.
"Yo."
Before the syllable finished, she drove the merged pole into the brick wall beside the window—
THUNK.
It sank deep, buried as a pivot point.
Using it as a fulcrum, Qingyi's body carved a brutal arc, and both feet slammed into the boss's chest like a piledriver, carrying the full force of her ascent and rotation.
BOOM!!
A sickening, heavy impact.
The boss didn't even manage to scream.
He flew backward like a human cannonball, smashed into the interior wall with a thunderous crash that shook loose flakes of plaster, then slid down like a sack of meat—unconscious before he hit the floor.
Qingyi flipped lightly into the room.
A sharp flick of her wrist and a few clicks—
ka-da, ka-da—
the staff detached cleanly back into a three-section weapon in her hands.
The remaining thugs finally snapped out of their stupor and began firing in panic.
Bullets tore into walls and furniture. Splinters and dust exploded into the air.
Qingyi moved like a ghost inside the cramped space.
The three-section staff wasn't just a stick—it became a whip, a blade, a shield, changing shape and rhythm in her hands.
Each strike either slapped bullets aside with surgical precision or cracked into wrists and joints with ruthless efficiency.
"Ah—!"
"My hand—!"
"Ugh—!"
Screams, the sharp crack of breaking bone, and the clatter of dropped guns filled the room.
Their bullets were useless—like rain thrown at an invisible wall.
And even if one had gotten through… it likely wouldn't have done more than leave a white mark.
—
Downstairs, Morningstar's heart was still pounding from Zhu Yuan's impossible catch and Qingyi's falling-star assault.
Then her gaze drifted—almost accidentally—to Zhu Yuan's uniform jacket.
To the cold sheen of the Public Security emblem.
It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over her again.
All the awe and relief froze and shattered.
A chill rocketed up her spine.
"Y-you… you're Public Security…?!"
Her voice went thin and trembling, soaked in guilt and fear. Her eyes darted away as her body shrank back like she wanted to merge into the wall.
Zhu Yuan knew that reaction too well.
Like a mouse spotting a cat—instinctive shame carved into the bones.
Her expression sharpened again, suspicion reasserting itself as she studied Morningstar.
People who see us and flinch like that… usually have something to hide.
But then she looked at Morningstar properly: pale, shaking, eyes red like a frightened rabbit.
This didn't look like a hardened criminal.
Zhu Yuan's tension eased by a fraction.
At that moment, Zhu Yuan's comm unit crackled with Qingyi's voice.
"Upstairs is fully handled."
Casual, like she'd just dealt with a few drunks.
In Morningstar's apartment above, seven or eight thugs were now tied up like dumplings, stacked in a miserable heap, groaning and whining—completely neutralized.
The danger was over.
Zhu Yuan looked back to Morningstar. Her tone softened slightly, though it remained official.
"Alright, miss. You're safe now. Let's go upstairs. I have some questions."
She pointed toward the apartment.
Morningstar's heart sank hard.
Thoughts raced.
Run?
The idea died the moment it formed.
Her home had been exposed. Running wouldn't erase anything. And any evidence… was already inside.
A heavy, drowning helplessness flooded her.
She lowered her head and answered in a tiny voice.
"…Okay."
She followed Zhu Yuan back up like a prisoner walking to judgment.
—
The apartment was wrecked.
The broken door. The toppled furniture. Wood splinters and dust everywhere.
The lingering smell of gunpowder and sweat clung to the air.
Morningstar sat on the only half-intact couch, hands knotted together, head bowed low.
Zhu Yuan stood across from her, arms crossed, eyes bright and unwavering.
This scene was familiar. Too familiar.
"Start talking."
Zhu Yuan didn't waste time.
"Why did they come after you? And with guns. That's not small-time intimidation."
Morningstar flinched. Her head dipped even lower.
"I… I…"
Her voice shook.
"I won the lottery… and… and they found out…"
She tried to make it sound harmless. Simple. Ordinary.
Qingyi stepped out from a side room, brushing dust off her hands like she'd finished a trivial chore.
She looked at Zhu Yuan and reported evenly.
"They thought this lady would receive bonus money from the Inter-Knot Collaboration & Development Foundation."
She paused and glanced at Morningstar.
"Because she wrote and published a beginner guide called The Star Guide. It's got a good reputation—helped a lot of rookie proxies avoid risks."
Zhu Yuan's eyes snapped back to Morningstar.
"Foundation bonus? The Star Guide?"
Her gaze practically said: That's your 'lottery'?
Morningstar's scalp tingled. She tried to stand her ground, but her voice was weak.
"H-how is that not a lottery? It's money falling from the sky!"
She swallowed and forced the words out.
"Honestly… something like that foundation showing up and actually paying people… has to be rarer than winning a real jackpot!"
Qingyi, unbelievably, nodded as if that made perfect sense.
"That's… fair."
Zhu Yuan nearly choked.
"Senior, stop messing around. We're working."
She turned back to Morningstar, serious again.
"So the money is the root cause?"
Morningstar slumped, surrendering.
"…Yes."
With no way to hide it, she explained everything: how she'd spent years on the Inter-Knot helping inexperienced rookies avoid traps and settle disputes, and how she'd unexpectedly received 500,000 Dennies from this mysterious foundation.
By the end, her voice was barely audible—full of dread.
Inside she was already convinced:
It's over. They're going to confiscate it as illegal income. Maybe they'll haul me in. Maybe I'll spend days in a cell. I finally get paid and I still lose.
But when she finished, Zhu Yuan didn't slap cuffs on her.
She just kept watching her, expression shifting from suspicion to something closer to puzzlement.
"Are you sure?"
Zhu Yuan asked slowly.
"Nothing else you want to add? That's everything?"
Morningstar blinked, bewildered.
"N-no? That's it. The money. The gang trying to rob me. That's everything."
She didn't understand what Zhu Yuan was still looking for.
Zhu Yuan glanced to Qingyi for confirmation.
Qingyi nodded once.
"Her logs match. No issues."
Only then did Zhu Yuan ask the real question, eyes fixed on Morningstar.
"Do you know why we arrived so precisely—right in time to save you?"
Morningstar froze.
"…Wasn't it… coincidence?"
She'd assumed they were patrolling nearby and responded to the noise.
Zhu Yuan shook her head.
"It was Phaethon."
She spoke the name like a weight, watching Morningstar's face for any hint of deception.
"Phaethon told me to come. Are you sure…"
Her voice sharpened.
"…you have no connection to Phaethon?"
"Phaethon?!"
Morningstar went completely blank.
Phaethon—the legendary top-tier proxy, the myth made flesh.
How could she possibly be connected to someone like that?
She tore through her memories, searching desperately—and found nothing.
All she could do was shake her head, stunned and utterly sincere.
Zhu Yuan studied her for several seconds. Experience told her the woman wasn't lying.
Zhu Yuan and Qingyi exchanged a glance—confirmation mixed with unresolved doubt.
Zhu Yuan didn't press further. Her tone returned to calm.
"Alright."
"If you see danger signs again, contact us immediately."
She paused, then added:
"And you can't stay here anymore. Move as soon as possible. With those 500,000 Dennies, you can find somewhere safer."
As Zhu Yuan finished speaking, Morningstar's phone chimed twice.
She pulled it out. Two new contact notifications had appeared.
Zhu Yuan. Qingyi.
Qingyi had quietly injected both of their info into her contacts.
Then Qingyi added one more thing, flat and almost gentle:
"Don't keep using your own money to patch other people's mistakes."
She paused.
"With that foundation insurance, you don't need to pay out of pocket anymore."
Zhu Yuan startled slightly at Qingyi's extra detail. Her eyes flicked to Morningstar again—her appraisal changing by a subtle degree.
Morningstar, meanwhile, was too stunned to process any of it.
Then, unable to stop herself, she stood and blurted out:
"Y-you… you're not taking me in?"
Zhu Yuan had already turned toward the shattered doorway. She paused, but didn't look back. Her voice carried clearly.
"Your work is connected to the Inter-Knot and sits in a gray zone, yes—but you haven't harmed public order."
"If anything, what you've done—at least with The Star Guide—has brought a relatively positive influence."
"So there's no reason to take you to headquarters."
She waved once, crisp and final.
Qingyi followed silently.
Together, they dragged the trussed-up thugs out through the broken doorway and disappeared.
Morningstar stood in place, unmoving, like a statue.
The apartment was dead silent except for her own heartbeat.
She looked down at her screen.
Zhu Yuan. Qingyi.
Then she looked around at the wreckage: the broken door, the overturned furniture, the scattered debris.
None of this was a dream.
So… that was it?
The 500,000 Dennies were still hers?
No cuffs? No interrogation room?
She even had Public Security contacts now?
The shock of survival, the confusion, the absurdity of it all—her body couldn't hold it anymore.
Her legs went weak.
She sank down hard onto the cold floor, back against the edge of the couch.
Slowly, shaking, she raised a hand to cover her face.
Cold tears spilled through her fingers—silent, unstoppable.
They weren't tears of sadness.
They were the release of a snapped cord: fear, disbelief, lingering terror, and the crushing pressure of the last few minutes finally draining out of her body all at once.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 155)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter200)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter110)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter230)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 200
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 180
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/5
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 230
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 220
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/30
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 120
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 135
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 110
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 100
My Harem Is Indescribable 90
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 95
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 105
Still playing traditional Honk 69
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 80
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 70
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 75
Checking In in Demon Slayer 80
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 85
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 70
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 65
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 70
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 70
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 65
Why did they assign me to Uma 65
MYGO Beauties 65
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 55
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 65
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 45
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 45
The Uma Musume Who Became 40
I'm Definitely Not the King of 45
After Maxing Out Every Class 45
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