Shen Ningze carried an ultra-micro missile and a standard grenade.
In terms of destructive power, the former was stronger, but he was still hesitating over which one to use. When an ultra-micro missile is launched, a strong spirit user can detect abnormal activity from the sound of the wind and air friction it creates. If multiple S3-level spirit users unleashed their powers at the same time, it was possible they could detonate the missile mid-air elsewhere.
The grenade, on the other hand, was more accurate. However, Shen Ningze didn’t know where Su Cha was currently staying.
Everyone knew the dormitory arrangement rules at the affiliated school. The Fog Star people wouldn’t possibly let Su Cha stay in that rundown third-floor room anymore—most likely, he was now on the top floor.
The desire to see Su Cha dead was burning stronger every second. Just as Shen Ningze was weighing his options, he suddenly sensed something speeding toward him. Not wasting another moment, he activated the ultra-micro missile while looking for a place to hide. To increase the chance of success, he set the missile’s initial trajectory to accelerate directly from this dimensional space.
But Shen Ningze didn’t aim the missile at the top floor—instead, he targeted a spot slightly lower and more forward.
He had come up with a more brilliant plan: whether Su Cha died or not was no longer the point; even being discovered as an attempted missile strike doesn’t matter.
In such a short window, any emergency response would not be able to safely neutralize the missile in a protected zone. So the person trying to intercept it would face a moral dilemma: protect the students in this building, or deflect the danger onto others.
The corners of Shen Ningze’s lips slowly curled into a smile. In the ensuing chaos, he would throw the grenade into the fleeing students. He was bound to injure a few. Later, with a bit of disguise, he’d upload a video online, claiming it was a terrorist attack meant to kill Su Cha. The fallout would be delicious.
Even if Su Cha survived, plenty of innocent students from the affiliated school would die. He himself would use the dimensional folding device to take refuge. When grieving parents couldn’t find the real culprit, who would they blame? The answer was obvious.
“The empire’s star of the future? More like a disaster star.”
Fog Star people were notoriously domineering. After an attempted assassination, they would definitely demand justice from the empire. That would only stir up public anger—anger that could easily snowball into war.
The space-folding device, fragile as it was, let out a humming noise as it was used as a missile launch rail. Shen Ningze knew he was being reckless—if the device broke, he would be doomed. But the moment the missile launched successfully, a rush of unprecedented euphoria surged in his chest.
“Why…”
Why, when they were both test subjects, was Su Cha the one showered with everyone’s favoritism?
The ultra-micro missile had to pass from one space into another, which took a little time. Sure enough, the instant it broke through the space barrier, someone sensed it.
A surge of immense spirit power instinctively burst forth, attempting to deflect the deadly weapon.
“You won’t be so lucky this time,” Shen Ningze whispered, a smile frozen on his face.
No matter the outcome, Su Cha couldn’t bear it.
The missile shot downward vertically, but before it could collide with any force, a titanium alloy leg suddenly swept in from the side and kicked it straight up into the sky.
“Sh*t!”
The gravitational force of the accelerating missile was terrifying—even for the system, intercepting it at such close range wasn’t easy. One of the mechanical doll’s legs was instantly destroyed. At that moment, the missile detonated, a massive mushroom cloud blooming in the high sky with an ear-shattering roar, sending shockwaves cascading outward.
The entire student body instantly awoke.
No lights were needed—the rolling smoke outside lit up most of the sky.
When Su Cha opened his door, the one across from him opened as well. Ji Tianjin, who had been resting, was in casual loungewear. He was tall for his age, with a sturdy frame that made even oversized clothes look fitting.
The two exchanged a glance and said nothing. They immediately headed downstairs. Embers and heavy debris were falling from the sky like a spectacular meteor shower. Smoke crept in through the half-open windows in the stairwell—they had to evacuate immediately.
The emergency broadcast blared:
“Please do not panic. Remain alert and aware of your surroundings.”
Li Huai had already sealed the area with spirit force to prevent sneak attacks.
Meanwhile, Shen Ningze had temporarily canceled his grenade plan. Since the missile didn’t cause panic or casualties, his entire plan was disrupted.
Even though the empire banned research on live-space folding tech, someone was bound to deduce the truth once things calmed down. By then, escaping would be much harder.
“What the h*ll was that…” The worst enemy is the unknown. As Shen Ningze fled in a sweat, the image of the missile abruptly veering off course played again and again in his mind.
Suddenly, a wave of hot air rushed from behind. He instinctively turned his head—an airburst had formed into a dense, fist-sized energy ball barreling straight at him.
Shen Ningze tried to block it, but his meager power meant nothing. His back seared in pain, and he caught the smell of scorched flesh.
This kind of injury might be survivable for the average person—but for Shen Ningze, it was fatal.
“Still trying to run?”
This time, Shen Ningze finally saw what had ruined his plan.
A robot? No—its body was like it was made from steel rods, cold and metallic from inside out.
“You… who are you?” He gritted his teeth against the pain. His words came out slurred.
The system ignored him entirely and began talking to itself: “I’ve seen that face before. The guy who thanked Su Cha with such fake politeness at the press conference.”
Su Cha again.
Hatred consumed his last shred of rationality. The rage made him forget to even question this bizarre doll’s connection to Su Cha. “Why is he always so d*mn lucky!”
The words came out as a low growl.
If only he’d had just a bit of that kind of luck, he wouldn’t be in this state.
The system looked at him curled on the ground in pain, almost amused: “You envy Su Cha?”
Its face twisted into a strange, indescribable expression.
Shen Ningze’s delicate features contorted. He wanted to deny it, but was afraid that opening his mouth would make it worse.
The system stared at him like a clown: “Envy him? The luck he bled and fought for over and over?”
The system had gone through hosts like fish in a river. Those who survived their service term were a rarity. Of those few survivors, most went mad or broke completely. Su Cha was one of the rare normal ones.
How could anyone possibly envy that kind of luck?
“Isn’t it true? Su Cha, aside from—”
The system’s leg was ruined today, and it was rushing for repairs. What’s more, this space was already unstable—someone was meticulously scanning every corner with their spiritual power, nearly penetrating the dimension. Not wanting to listen to Shen Ningze’s blabbering any longer, the system directly grabbed him by the collar and flung him out of the space before his presence could be fully detected.
The force it used was strong—clearly intended to kill Shen Ningze by impact.
But someone in the vicinity noticed the shadow falling from the sky and instinctively used spiritual power to cushion the fall. Though Shen Ningze survived, he was barely breathing, feeling as if his internal organs were all shattered.
By the time the system could go in for a finishing blow, it was already too late.
Security personnel and administrators had arrived. The guards began searching for any other suspicious individuals nearby. Li Huai, meanwhile, noticed the injuries on Shen Ningze’s wrist and found a nail-sized device on him. After testing it, he arrived at a conclusion.
“A space-folding device.”
Historically, the Empire had tried developing this technology, but it often malfunctioned. If not used properly, the user would end up torn apart inside. Initially designed for ambush and assassination on the battlefield, its instability had made it unworthy of continued investment. Eventually, the Empire outright banned it.
Li Huai raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think someone actually pulled it off.”
Shen Ningze’s mouth was full of bloody foam. With trembling, bloodstained fingers, he grabbed a corner of Li Huai’s clothes.
“It was me. The missile failed to hit because… because Su Cha… he has this terrifying robot by his side…”
Shen Ningze enunciated slowly: “It… can… intercept… missiles.”
If that news got out, Su Cha would never know peace.
Maybe it was a moment of clarity before death, or maybe it was the first time he truly saw things as an outsider—Shen Ningze’s mind was clearer than ever. He realized that Su Cha’s identity was far from simple. He was definitely more than just someone from Fog Star.
Li Huai frowned and stopped the approaching guards. “Keep searching. Don’t miss a single corner.”
“Sir, Su Cha—” Rong Shao rushed over. Just as he was about to report that Su Cha had disappeared, he saw the man lying on the ground. “Shen Ningze?”
Shen Ningze tried to repeat his words with great difficulty, but Li Huai cut him off.
“This place hasn’t been secured yet—” Before he could finish, his eyes narrowed and he struck the communicator hidden in Shen Ningze’s sleeve.
Shen Ningze had been secretly controlling it with his spiritual power.
The device rolled near Rong Shao’s feet. On its screen was a message that hadn’t been sent:
[Su Cha is suspicious. He has a robot with him. It intercepted the missile.]
Rong Shao’s heart skipped a beat. Looking at Shen Ningze’s twisted but earnest expression, he knew someone lying wouldn’t look like this.
His throat bobbed. Feigning concern, he asked, “Sir, can he be saved?”
He took two steps forward and “accidentally” crushed the communicator underfoot.
Shen Ningze’s pupils shrank violently.
Li Huai didn’t answer. Rong Shao awkwardly talked to himself, then caught a familiar figure in his peripheral vision and waved him over.
It was Ji Tianjin. He had come downstairs earlier with Su Cha, but halfway through, Su Cha had said he had something urgent and ran off, telling him to wait. When he didn’t come back, Ji Tianjin followed in the direction Su Cha had gone.
Rong Shao approached and whispered a few words to Ji Tianjin. After listening, Ji Tianjin showed no expression and simply said, “When people lose too much blood, they tend to talk nonsense.”
Noticing the attempt to cover for Su Cha, Shen Ningze, in his current state, appeared like a tragic hero clinging to the truth. He kept struggling to speak, hoping to alert the nearby guards.
A sudden breeze carried a faint floral scent—it was the smell of Su Cha’s spiritual form.
Shen Ningze’s eyes widened. Please, don’t let him hear—
“Ningze.” Su Cha finally arrived.
The universe did not answer Shen Ningze’s silent plea. Blood he had just swallowed surged up again.
The system had once said Shen Ningze was passive-aggressive toward Su Cha at the press conference, but in truth, Su Cha had the upper hand all along.
Unlike his usual self, Su Cha’s voice today still carried a teasing tone, but his expression was icy cold.
“Ningze, it was you who caused all this, wasn’t it?”
There was no doubt in his words. Su Cha released his spirit form, extending Shen Ningze’s final moments.
Looking at the dying boy, Su Cha’s tone suddenly softened. He gently held Shen Ningze’s hands—a gesture that seemed familiar, though Shen Ningze couldn’t place where he had seen it before.
“Do you remember the day we first parted?”
A dormant memory stirred. Shen Ningze’s temple throbbed. “Don’t—”
Don’t sing.
“That morning, I woke from a dream… Oh, my friend, farewell, farewell, farewell!”
Shen Ningze: F*k.
Su Cha’s singing drew the guards’ attention, wondering why someone was suddenly singing here. A faint light returned to Shen Ningze’s eyes as he, still bleeding, tried to speak: “The one who intercepted the missile was…”
Just as someone approached to listen, Su Cha’s voice shot up an octave:
“Farewell, my friend!”
Exactly the same as the first time they parted. Reflexively, Shen Ningze’s eyelid twitched—only this time, he couldn’t hold on anymore. His arms fell limp, his head slumped, and he died with eyes wide open.
Su Cha, acting like a mourning cat, draped himself dramatically over Shen Ningze:
“Ningze—ahhh—”
For a moment, everyone around fell into a stunned silence.
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