The moment Lin Yu and Luo Shaotian’s figures vanished into the darkness of the ventilation duct—
BOOM——!!!!
A thunderous explosion shattered the silence.
The storage room door, locked tight from within, buckled inward as if rammed head-on by an enraged bull.
The lock and hinges burst apart in the same instant, and the entire iron slab crashed violently to the ground, raising a suffocating cloud of dust.
In the doorway stood a hulking figure—The Butcher.
A feral grin split across his scarred face.
“Ha! Let’s see where you little punks think you can—”
He stormed in with two subordinates, eyes sharp and wary—only to find the room completely empty.
Nothing but stale air and dust.
“Damn it! Where are they?!”
With a snarl, he kicked over the metal rack in the corner, sending a harsh screech of metal echoing through the room.
“What the hell—did they vanish into thin air?! There’s no one here!”
One of his goons looked around in confusion, equally at a loss.
“They must’ve gone to another floor! Move! After them! I don’t care how—”
But before The Butcher could finish barking his orders, a cold, hoarse voice came from the doorway.
“It’s Aque.”
A small, red-haired girl—so thin and quiet she was often overlooked entirely—appeared soundlessly in the frame like a ghost.
Her oversized graffiti hoodie hung loose on her shoulders, one side tightly wrapped with a rough but secure bandage, stained faintly with blood.
A wound from when Luo Shaotian’s police-issued sidearm had hit her earlier.
Yet there was no trace of pain on her face—only a preternatural calm and focus, sharp as a hunting dog’s.
Ignoring The Butcher’s growls, Aque walked straight into the room.
She crouched down, pulled out a small flashlight, and began scanning the floor with the cold precision of a hawk searching for prey.
Soon, her eyes caught a faint irregularity—something barely noticeable.
On the thick layer of dust that covered the floor, there was one small patch beneath the fallen shelf where the dust looked… thinner than the rest.
And on it—
A few faint footprints.
Along with several nearly invisible, hair-thin strands glinting under the flashlight’s beam…
Transparent threads?
No—those weren’t threads.
Aque reached out with her uninjured hand, delicately picking one up between two fingers.
“Nylon fibers…”
Her narrow eyes narrowed further in thought.
“Looks like… from that girl’s stockings. Yes… long socks. Friction against the rough ground would leave residue like this…”
Her gaze followed the subtle trail inch by inch—
Upward.
Until it stopped on the ceiling corner—
At the seemingly ordinary ventilation duct.
The iron grate had been closed again, but one of the screws securing it bore fresh tool marks—small, sharp scratches that hadn’t been there before.
“Found them.”
Aque rose to her feet, turning to face the still-fuming Butcher, who was raging at the empty room.
Her voice was calm, cold, and certain.
“They’re above us.”
At the far end of the abandoned factory—once an old workshop, now converted into a makeshift office—Crimson Fox stood by the window.
She held a slender cigarette between her fingers, exhaling a stream of smoke as she stared absently down at the chaos below—her subordinates scurrying about like headless flies.
The mocking amusement that once colored her face had vanished.
In its place was irritation, a restless boredom that came from watching her prey slip the net.
Just then, the old computer behind her buzzed to life, its screen flickering before displaying an encrypted video call.
The caller’s icon: a hammer wreathed in flames.
The insignia of the Akagi Gang.
Crimson Fox stubbed out her cigarette against the window ledge, turned sharply, and strode to the computer.
Her demeanor shifted instantly to one of disciplined respect as she clicked Connect.
The screen flashed, and an imposing, pressure-filled presence suddenly filled the frame.
He sat motionless, but like a slumbering bear; his massive frame almost filled the camera’s view.
It was Beitang’s chief—Long Ge.
He was in an underground chamber redolent of steel and fire.
The dull red glow leaping from the furnace behind him cast his old, crisscrossing scars into a ghastly, demonic relief.
“…Status?”
Long Ge’s voice scraped like two rusted iron plates rubbing together—hoarse, heavy, every syllable carrying unquestionable authority.
“Long Ge.”
Crimson Fox immediately bowed her head with deference and, in the manner of a dutiful subordinate, rapidly reported the recent events.
“…There was an incident. One cop, one unlucky bastard, and a girl who very likely came from ‘Dawn’—a ‘female fiend’—they rescued the people.”
“…‘Female fiend’?”
Long Ge’s eyes, dark and crazed in the shadows, narrowed in an instant.
He remained silent for a long while.
Only the soft click-click of two solid metal walnuts being rolled in his broad palm broke the quiet in the command room.
“…Those damn female fiends again…”
At last he spat out a line thick with both disgust and killing intent.
“Again and again—they wreck my plans!!!”
Before his sentence ended, the walnuts in his hand shot forward like launched projectiles and slammed into the nearby wall—
“BANG—”
—shattering the reinforced concrete and leaving a raw hole in the wall.
“Crimson Fox!”
“Yes.”
“I don’t care what method you use.”
Long Ge’s voice dropped, severe as a final judgment.
“That cop and the unlucky bastard—alive or dead, I don’t care.
But that girl—”
He paused, and a glint of greed and calculation ignited in his eyes.
“—must be captured alive!”
“Captured alive?” Crimson Fox blinked in surprise.
“That’s right—alive.”
Long Ge snorted coldly.
“The Abyssal Gospel fanatics have been pestering us for sacrifices again these last few days.
I heard they have a huge interest in these so-called ‘magical girls’—”
“If we can catch one and deliver it alive, not only will it shut them up, we might even trade for other things we want.”
His voice lowered to the grind of iron on stone.
“You—understand what I mean?”
Crimson Fox’s eyes lit up instantly.
She licked her blood-red lips, a venomous, excited smile returning to her face.
“Understood.”
Her voice was huskier with excitement.
“Long Ge, just—watch me.”
[ TL Note: Ge or Gege in Chinese means Older Brother]
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Creepy.