Chapter 18 | Young Lady, Mind If I Borrow Your Sword?

Qiu Shubai took a deep breath, seemingly having made a decision.

“My ability, ‘Bloodfall,’ was recently rated as Transcendent rank.”

Transcendent rank.

Luo Yang’s eyes flickered slightly. This was already an extremely high level within the human ability spectrum.

Punishers with this level of ability were destined from the moment of awakening to become one of the most brilliant stars of their era. It was, in a literal sense, “starting at the peak.”

“Once I ascend the mountain's peak, all other mountains will seem small.”

No wonder she had been recruited by the Special Division while still at the Core Consolidation rank.

“But... it’s not hereditary; it’s a mutation. And it’s very unstable, constantly changing.”

“To be precise, it’s getting stronger.”

Qiu Shubai continued, each word sounding as if it had been fished out of an ice cellar.

“There are no records of this ability in my family. It appeared on me suddenly. Its destructive power is immense, and it’s difficult to control.”

“It’s hungry and needs to feed often, so I have to constantly consume large amounts of blood energy to maintain stability. High-purity blood ore is the only safe supply source I know of right now.”

“At times, I even fall into a frenzy, unable to distinguish friend from foe. I only know how to slaughter and let ‘it’ drink its fill of the enemy’s blood.”

She looked at Luo Yang, as if trying to see his every minute reaction.

“The Principal told me that one reason he put me on this mission with you was to see the limits and controllability of my ability under high-pressure conditions.”

“And I’m telling you this because we’re going to be fighting side by side. You have the right—and the need—to know what kind of ‘weapon’ your teammate actually is.”

Luo Yang gazed at her. The girl stood there with a straight back, like a solitary sword, baring her most fragile and dangerous side to him.

Beneath her cold exterior lay immense energy and an equally immense burden.

“A weapon?” Luo Yang suddenly smiled. There was no surprise or fear in that smile, only a near-casual understanding.

“Aren’t we all? My ability burns through money far more terrifyingly than yours eats blood ore.”

Qiu Shubai was stunned.

“Transcendent rank, high-output type, dependent on external supplies, risk of losing control.” Luo Yang counted them off on his fingers as if taking inventory.

“Sounds like a real hassle. But as it happens, while I hate trouble, I’m quite good at handling it—especially the expensive kind.”

“Besides, my skill at controlling weapons is decent. Maybe I can help you keep an eye on that slightly temperamental sword of yours?”

He reached out, not to shake her hand, but to give her shoulder a casual pat, just as naturally as he would with Lin Ze or Yu Mingyang.

“So, Miss Chief, don't look like you’re giving your last will and testament. It’s just a mission. We’ll finish it, earn the credits, get the subsidies, and while we’re at it...”

He paused, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “Let me see just how impressive this ultimate aesthetic of violence really is.”

With that, he turned and headed for the stairs first.

Qiu Shubai stood in place, watching his back. A faint warmth seemed to linger on her shoulder from that pat.

The icy glint in her eyes wavered before finally softening. The tight line of her lips relaxed slightly.

She started walking and followed him.

Their footsteps grew distant in the hallway. Inside the office, Zhang Xian stood by the window, watching the two figures walk away. He adjusted his reading glasses and whispered to himself:

“That grandson of yours is a bit of a slippery one, but his temperament is damn near identical to yours back then. I wonder if this ‘sword’ and ‘sheath’ are a match?”

“These old bones of mine will just have to wait and see the show.”

By the time they walked out of the administration building, the sun was sinking in the west, dyeing the entire academy in a warm, pale orange-red.

Luo Yang checked his phone. 3:45.

“Still have some time.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket and turned to Qiu Shubai. “A trip to the Ninth Commercial District?”

Qiu Shubai tilted her head slightly, her eyes asking what for.

“Restocking equipment.” Luo Yang sighed. “Last night’s fight scrapped nine Grantee Longswords and one Armor-piercing Dagger. Since we’re going to a Level 3 Special Rift, I need to buy more gear.”

Qiu Shubai nodded.

Luo Yang had told her about the combat style of Weapon's End, Ember's Birth before, so she didn't find it strange.

“Let’s go.” She didn't say much and led the way toward the school gate.

Luo Yang followed her, and they crossed the gradually quiet campus together.

Beneath the ginkgo trees, the shadows of leaves were dappled, and the sounds of combat from the training grounds had thinned out. A few passing students still cast curious or envious glances at them, but Luo Yang couldn't be bothered to care.

He was doing math in his head.

He had just paid Qiu Shubai back 180,000 last night, leaving about 300,000 in his account. While not exactly flush with cash, it was enough to restock a batch of mass-produced first and second-tier weapons.

The problem was that the danger level of a Level 3 Special Rift was at least fifty percent higher than a normal one. Relying solely on first and second-tier weapons might not be enough.

Should he grit his teeth and buy a few third-tier ones?

Luo Yang calculated the prices. First-tier weapons were one or two thousand, second-tier were three to eight thousand, and third-tier would likely start at five digits.

At his rate of consumption, a single tough battle could easily cost over 100,000 in weapon damage alone.

Truly a gold-swallowing beast.

He couldn't help but smile bitterly.

“What’s wrong?” Qiu Shubai noticed the change in his expression.

“Nothing. I just feel like I might have been a Pixiu in my past life.”

“...”

Qiu Shubai decided not to take the bait.

They left the school gate and walked toward the subway station, a route they were now familiar with.

Qiu Shubai hadn't driven today. Or rather, since the last time she took Luo Yang shopping, she had discovered that he seemed to have a weird obsession with public transportation.

“You really... like saving money.” She suddenly spoke up.

“It’s not that I like saving money,” Luo Yang corrected her. “It’s that I have no money to spend.”

“But you just got 200,000 last night.”

“After the handling fees and paying you back 180,000, I only have a bit over 10,000 left.”

Qiu Shubai didn't respond, only lowering her eyelashes. Her gray-white bangs covered most of her face, hiding her expression.

The subway wasn't very crowded. They found a corner seat and sat down side by side. The carriage swayed slightly, and the lights outside the window were stretched into flowing ribbons of light.

Silence lasted for a few stops.

“Level 3 Special Rift,” Qiu Shubai suddenly said. “Do you know what might be inside?”

“I read the files.” Luo Yang leaned back in his seat, his gaze on the light and shadows outside. “At least five Level 3 mutant beasts, possibly a Level 4. Plus some mutated Level 1 and 2 beasts in unknown numbers.”

“Are you scared?”

After the question left her mouth, Qiu Shubai herself was taken aback. She didn't know why she had asked that.

Luo Yang turned his head to look at her, his eyes full of surprise and a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Miss Chief, are you... worried about me?”

“I’m assessing my teammate’s psychological state,” Qiu Shubai said, her face remaining impassive.

“And the result of your assessment?”

“Thick-skinned enough. Your mental fortitude shouldn't be bad.”

Luo Yang almost laughed out loud.

The subway reached their stop. They exited the station and walked along the familiar streets toward the Ninth Commercial District.

The commercial district was much busier in the evening than during the day. Many Punishers in various uniforms shuttled through the streets. Shop signs lit up one after another, their colorful lights making the whole street as bright as day.

Luo Yang followed Qiu Shubai through the crowd and arrived at Uncle Zhou’s shop once more.

The sign was the same, the storefront was the same.

As the door pushed open, the familiar smell of metal rushed over them.

Uncle Zhou was still sitting behind the counter, still wearing his reading glasses, holding his phone and scrolling through short videos.

He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the two of them before breaking into a meaningful smile.

“Little Qiu, back so soon?”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“And this young man. What, the ones you bought last time weren't enough?”

Luo Yang rubbed his nose awkwardly.

“Uncle Zhou, I want to restock some equipment.”

“Oh?” Uncle Zhou raised an eyebrow. “You bought thirty items last time. It’s only been a few days, and they’re all gone?”

“Not all of them,” Luo Yang said honestly. “I used nine swords and one dagger. The rest are still there.”

Uncle Zhou’s expression froze for a moment.

He slowly took off his reading glasses and looked Luo Yang up and down as if he were a rare animal.

“Young man, tell me the truth. You’re not buying those weapons for smuggling, are you?”

“I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

“Then why the hell did you scrap nine longswords and a dagger in two days?” Uncle Zhou’s voice rose an octave.

“The weapons I sell look like new even after three months of use. You use them for two days and they’re direct scrap? Are you using them as cannonballs?”

Luo Yang opened his mouth, unsure how to explain.

It actually wasn't that far off.

“His ability is quite unique,” Qiu Shubai spoke up. “Equipment is consumed very quickly in his hands.”

Uncle Zhou looked at Qiu Shubai, then at Luo Yang, and suddenly had a look of realization.

“Oh—I see.”

He drew out the sound, his gaze shifting between the two of them, the smile on his lips growing more obvious.

“Little Qiu, you brought him here last time and said you were friends. You’ve brought him again. I’ve lived for over sixty years; I still have some eye for these things.”

Qiu Shubai’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Uncle Zhou, you’ve misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood my foot.” Uncle Zhou waved his hand, looking at Luo Yang with a chuckle.

“Young man, you have good taste. I’ve watched Little Qiu grow up. Though she’s a bit cold, she has a good heart, she’s strong, and she’s beautiful. For her to bring you here to buy things multiple times shows you’re not a simple lad.”

Luo Yang wasn't stupid; he naturally understood what Uncle Zhou meant.

However, he just felt awkward, his toes practically cringing into the floor.

“Uncle Zhou, we really are just ordinary frien—” Qiu Shubai tried to explain.

“Fine, fine, no need to explain.” Uncle Zhou interrupted her, standing up from behind the counter and walking toward the shelves.

“I won't meddle in young people's business. However...”

He looked back at Luo Yang, his smile making his eyes squint into slits.

“Since you’re Little Qiu’s person, I’ll give you a discount today. I’ll count the first-tier longswords as 1,800 and the second-tier daggers as 3,200. How’s that?”

The explanation Luo Yang had prepared was instantly swallowed by the word “discount.”

“...Deal.”

He inwardly condemned himself for a second before quickly following Uncle Zhou.

Qiu Shubai stood in place, watching their backs as they walked toward the shelves. Beneath her gray-white bangs, the tips of her ears were tinged with a very faint pink.