The autumn night in BlackRock City was bleak and bitter.
Gusts of icy wind whipped through the streets, sending pedestrians hurrying by, clutching their coats tightly as they disappeared into the dark.
At that moment, in a dim alley behind a portside tavern, a striking young woman in a tight black leather coat suddenly materialized amidst swirling dust.
It was Selene.
She stood steadily on the damp concrete, eyes lifting toward a flickering neon sign of a girl just beyond the alley’s narrow mouth.
Her tone was cold as ice:
"So this is the so-called port district—gang turf."
A coarse laugh echoed behind her.
"Hey, girl, playing dress-up? Wanna have a little fun with me?"
Hmm?
Selene’s brows twitched ever so slightly. She turned her head.
Roughly ten meters away stood a burly man with grimy dreadlocks—Emberlight complexion—grinning as he pointed a revolver at her.
Near the alley entrance, a short, pudgy man in a baseball cap watched silently, a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his lips.
Selene chuckled, soft and amused.
"So this is what people call 'compatriots'..."
The smile vanished from her face. Instantly, her presence shifted.
A wave of murderous intent burst forth from her body—sharp, compressed, and suffocating.
Boom!
"Ugh..."
The man with the braids went rigid—eyes wide, limbs twitching—before collapsing like a puppet with cut strings.
The short man at the alley’s mouth fared no better. His eyes rolled up white, and he slumped over unconscious.
Selene’s hips swayed lightly as she walked forward, calm and graceful. With one smooth motion, her boot stomped down on the revolver’s handle, sending it spinning into the air. She caught it effortlessly.
The man with dreadlocks stared up in shock, barely coherent, muttering:
"Y-You... beautiful lady, we’re the same—we're compatriots, right?! Please, don’t kill me!"
"Compatriots?"
Selene sneered, lowering herself into a crouch. She used the muzzle to lift his sleeve. Spotting the ghost-skull tattoo, she shifted the barrel to his forehead and said flatly:
"I ask. You answer. Slow down, and your brains hit the wall. Got it?"
The man nodded violently.
"Yes! Yes! No problem!"
Suddenly, the pudgy man at the alley's end bolted upright, trying to run.
Selene's eyes narrowed. In the next instant, two scorching red beams shot from her eyes—
Bang!
The man's head exploded mid-stride.
His headless corpse crumpled to the pavement.
Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, the dreadlocked man was overtaken by terror.
"Y-You… are you an alien?! Or a superpower user?!"
Selene tapped the muzzle against his skull—bang, bang, bang. Her voice remained steady:
"Which gun shop around here belongs to your Fu’an Gang?"
The man stammered, breath trembling:
"J-Just head to the end of this street... there’s a place called Ihang."
Selene nodded.
Then she pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The man spasmed once, eyes frozen open, before collapsing into a slow-spreading pool of blood.
Minutes later.
On the cold, empty street, Selene walked with purpose.
Across from her glowed the faint neon of a still-lit storefront.
She looked up and spoke calmly:
"Ihang, this is the place."
Ding-a-ling.
The bell over the door rang as she stepped in.
Inside the gun shop, a bulky middle-aged man was swiping through his phone with practiced ease. Without even glancing up, he called out:
"Hey man, we’re closing soon. Come back tomorrow."
Selene said nothing.
She quietly examined the rows of firearms lining both walls.
Noticing the silence, the man finally looked up. Upon seeing her—a beautiful woman—he broke into a smirk:
"Well now, what’s a little lady like you doing here? Shopping for a nightclub gig?"
"Ah..."
Selene’s eyes drifted to the ghost-head tattoo on the back of his hand.
She then pointed at a long-barreled pistol in the case and said simply:
"Let me see that one."
"Hmm?"
The boss raised an eyebrow, then leaned down and handed it over.
Selene took the pistol with ease, gave it a quick spin in her hand, and dry-fired a few times at the far wall.
Click ~ Click ~ Click ~
The man chuckled.
"Not bad. You’ve got skill. Haven’t seen you around before, though."
She didn’t reply.
Instead, she handed the pistol back, then gestured to the Uzi submachine gun mounted behind him.
Her voice was soft, but firm:
"Let me try that big one."
The shop owner’s expression tensed, unease creeping in.
Still, he turned, took the weapon down, and handed it to her—while subtly pressing a hidden button beneath the counter.
Click...
Selene accepted the Uzi, spun lightly in place, aimed at the wall, and dry-fired again.
Clack clack clack.
Then she lowered the weapon, holding it by the barrel, and tilted her head with a faint smile:
"Where’s Wu Fu?"
The boss snapped to attention, voice sharp:
"Hey, what the hell are you talking about?!"
Selene’s brow twitched. Without hesitation, she swung the submachine gun one-handed—
Bang!
The stock cracked against his skull.
The man’s eyes rolled back as he slammed into the wall, then slid down limply, unconscious.
Thud.
She tossed the gun aside without a second glance.
Raising her wrist, a flash of blue light blinked—an alloy-fiber rope launched out.
Whoosh—
It looped around a ceiling beam.
With swift precision, Selene hoisted the unconscious boss into the air, stringing him upside down like a slaughtered hog, head dangling.
Bang!
She grabbed a cleaver from behind the counter, lifted her leg gracefully, and stepped forward, her tone calm and cold:
"Interrogation Class One: Pain is man’s most honest friend. It opens locked memories. And if it doesn’t… you simply turn up the intensity."
Five minutes later.
Bang!!
The front door exploded open. Three—no, five—brutish Mongolian thugs burst inside, armed with pistols and iron bats.
They froze.
Standing there, cool as ice, was a stunning woman in a sleek black leather coat—Selene—already aiming a shotgun straight at them.
Their eyes darted from her... to the shopkeeper in the corner. The man was soaked in blood, barely breathing, every inch of him wrapped in duct tape and rigged with hand grenades. On the floor, a small pile of grenade pins glistened under the flickering light.
A thin wire looped around one of Selene’s fingers.
They collectively cursed inside:
Motherfucker.
Then came the sounds of clattering—knives, pistols, bats hitting the floor. Hands raised. Eyes down.
Selene smiled faintly.
"Good. You—" she pointed with the shotgun, "—you drove here, didn’t you?"
Vroom vroom vroom ~
A black Jeep roared to life and drove off into the night.
If a bystander were to walk into the shop now, they’d find nothing short of a war crime—bloodied walls, scattered weapons, and the echo of screams still clinging to the air.
But Selene wasn’t thinking about that.
She was planning.
Mapping targets. Calculating moves. Extracting people.
"Step one: Find the firearms trafficking manager—Hua Mianbao Galu Biao. Drinks until dawn, shows up to work hungover.
Through him, I find Rod—the green-faced, wolf-eyed leader of the snake-men hiding on some goddamn boat.
He’s the Fu’an Gang’s golden goose. He’s the only one who knows where Lucian is."
Her phoenix eyes narrowed. She murmured to herself:
"Until I confirm Lucian’s exact location… everything must be done at the gang level. Once I’m sure, I strike. And I don’t miss."
The Jeep turned onto a narrow, rundown road.
Soon, a crooked sign came into view—"Free Old Man", a seedy-looking bar.
Selene parked, stepped out, racked the shotgun, and slammed the car door shut.
Crack!!
She kicked open the front door.
Inside, bodies were writhing to chaotic music—grimy, half-naked dancers under flashing lights. Death metal collided with synth-hop, laced with the thick stink of sweat, alcohol, cheap perfume, and the telltale chemical bite of D.
Her expression soured.
She raised the shotgun.
Bang!!
The shot tore through the speakers and ceiling projectors.
The music stopped dead.
Dozens of bleary eyes turned toward the door.
Selene stepped forward, calm as ice, smile sharp:
"Bar’s closing early tonight. Everybody—get the fuck out."
Moments later.
Selene walked back out. The Jeep peeled off into the night.
And so began her quiet storm of slaughter.
She kept it controlled—surgical. She couldn’t risk alerting Lucian, who had burrowed himself into some hidden part of the city.
But within the hour, she had found Wu Fu—hidden in a reinforced chamber beneath a grimy underground casino.
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She extracted the truth the way she knew best.
In the basement—
Wu Fu sat slumped, tied to a steel chair. Blood pooled beneath him. His face was a ruin.
"He… he brought twenty-something people. They’re on... on that gambling ship. The one by the coast..."
His voice rasped, barely audible.
"Vacation. They’re here for vacation. They’re leaving… tomorrow, noon…"
Then he tilted his head back and howled:
"You fucking witch! I told you everything! Just kill me already, damn it!"
Selene leaned quietly against the wall, watching him like a cat might watch a dying rat.
Then she said flatly:
"There’s a chip on your cerebral cortex. It monitors your vitals. If you die—Lucian gets pinged."
Wu Fu trembled.
And fell silent.
The night draped the coastal waters in absolute darkness—no moon, no stars.
Everything was still.
But aboard the luxury gambling ship, inside the main banquet hall, Lucian stood near the window, frowning deeply as he stared into the gloom.
Something felt… wrong.
A cold unease crept down his spine.
As if someone—something—was out there. Watching. Closing in.
"A hallucination?" he murmured to himself.
Footsteps approached.
A tall, clean-cut young man arrived, grinning.
"Lucian, you still brooding here?"
Lucian shook his head.
"It’s nothing, Higch. Everything good on Wu Fu’s end?"
Higch chuckled.
"What could go wrong? If something did, the monitor would’ve told us. That guy’s been with Boss forever—he’s cautious as hell."
He gestured at the hall behind them—superpower users lounging, laughing, playing cards and billiards.
Grinning, he waved a half-empty bottle of rum.
"C’mon, with this many brothers here, who the hell would be dumb enough to pull something?!"
Lucian let out a short laugh.
"Yeah… maybe I’m just being paranoid."
In that instant, Lucian’s expression shifted dramatically.
Without hesitation, he grabbed Higch and blinked dozens of meters away—just in time.
Bang!
The banquet hall wall exploded into vaporized dust—reduced to powder in a flash. Shockwaves rippled through the hall.
All eyes turned, every superpower user tensing, expressions hardening.
A light breeze rolled in, clearing the smoke and haze.
From within the small crater at the blast's epicenter, a tall, slender girl in a black leather coat slowly rose to her feet.
Still in her grasp was Wu Fu—now frozen solid, reduced to a mutilated upper torso barely clinging to life.
It was Selene.
She stared briefly at the trembling, frostbitten chunk of what had once been a man, then flung him aside like discarded trash.
Her gaze sharpened—piercing, surgical.
Eyes locked onto the figure half-hidden behind the crowd.
She smiled.
"Lucian. Been a while."
Lucian stepped slightly forward, revealing half his face, expression blank.
"Do I know you? Have we met?"
His tone was calm, cold.
As he spoke, he silently activated a chain of psychic techniques:
-
Hypnosis.
-
Illusion-Casting.
-
Sensory Deprivation.
None of them worked.
Not even slightly.
Selene simply pressed a finger to her lips, smiling playfully:
"Shh—no rush. I’ll kill your subordinates first."
"Arrogant bitch!"
The superpower users around him roared in fury.
They unleashed their abilities in unison—chaos erupting in a storm of color and energy:
"Poison Flame!"
A dark-skinned, barrel-chested man bellowed, puffing his chest and exhaling a stream of blue-black fire.
"Demon Flora!"
A tan-skinned woman’s arm twisted grotesquely, morphing into thick wooden limbs. Vines pulsed green as a claw of living bark lashed out.
"Radioactive Death!"
A man wrapped in stained bandages pressed his palms together—an explosion of searing white light shot forward.
"Super High-Pressure Blast!"
An electric beam, pale and thick as a man’s arm, screeched through the air.
"Restraining Field!"
"Flies!"
"Sand Stream!"
"Force Field Ejection!"
Dozens of ranged attackers opened fire in perfect coordination—while the melee fighters formed a semi-circle, crouched and ready to pounce the moment she faltered.
Lucian, meanwhile, tugged Higch again—both vanished in a blur of speed, reappearing outside the banquet hall’s doors, safely observing from afar.
Inside, the hailstorm of powers converged on Selene—
And passed right through her.
[Sentience Realm Interference Device · Isolate]
Hum—
Her body shimmered, blurred, and became untouchable—an illusion beyond their grasp.
All attacks sliced past her harmlessly, detonating far off over the ocean, not even shifting a single strand of her hair.
Then—
[Hell Breath · Activate]
She reappeared in full clarity.
In that same instant, her entire frame lit up with blinding blue radiance.
Two full belts of Dragon’s Breath cannons—upper and lower rows—materialized out of nowhere, each gun pulsating with fire-charged plasma vents and energy reservoirs.
The barrels began to glow.
All cannons fired at once.
Boom boom —
Like a Flame Demon descending upon the mortal world, a hundred-meter radius around Selene—nearly half the ship—was swallowed by roaring torrents of fire.
The searing blaze surged uncontrollably, mercilessly incinerating the superpower users who screamed and fled in vain.
Just then, Selene tilted her head slightly. A gleaming silver gash suddenly appeared on her pale face—yet not even half a second later, it vanished as if it had never existed.
Whoosh —
A dozen or so flying light blades materialized in the distance. Higch’s voice trembled as he called out:
“My energy blades can slice through matter dozens of times harder than diamond... yet they couldn’t pierce your skull?!”
No sooner had he spoken than his figure flickered out of sight again.
Selene turned her head, eyes scanning the surroundings as she spoke in a clear, icy voice:
“Lucian... psychic transmission, is it?”
[Sentience Realm Interference Device · Silence]
Hum—
An invisible field expanded outward from her in a perfect 365-angle spread, blanketing the entire area.
In the next moment, Lucian and Higch were forcibly ejected by an unseen force—appearing midair before crashing unceremoniously onto the deck.
Higch gritted his teeth, trying to rise, energy blades forming in his hands once more—
But Selene was faster.
Her thigh coiled like a spring, boots pressing against the deck—and in a blur, she covered a hundred meters in an instant.
Like kicking a ball, she swung her leg.
The air shattered around her strike.
Crack—
Higch’s head snapped back violently, flying off his neck and sailing far beyond the gambling ship, landing with a splash in the distant sea.
Splash ~
A dull thud. The head sank.
His headless corpse crumpled limply onto the deck.
Bang!
Lucian was on his knees, hands tied behind his back.
He glared upward with effort, struggling to stay upright as he faced the unknown woman sitting across from him on a sofa—still bombarding herr with relentless psychic attacks.
Yet none of them landed.
It was like hurling stones into a bottomless ocean—no ripple, no effect.
“No use struggling.”
Selene leaned lazily into the sofa, head tilted with a faint smile.
“Your powers don’t work on me.”
A cold glint flashed through Lucian’s eyes. He sneered, teeth clenched:
“Here for revenge? Ha! Countless have died by my hands. Tell me—whose grieving sister or friend are you supposed to be?”
Selene tilted her pale neck with a subtle crack, her voice as frigid as her gaze.
“Whose friend or family? Hmm… that doesn’t matter anymore.”
Lucian’s breath caught.
“Do you really have to go this far? Isn’t there any room for compromise?!”
“Room...”
Selene chuckled.
Slowly, she leaned forward from the sofa, her frosty eyes boring into Lucian’s.
“Do you know what I feel... seeing you like this? Kneeling. Pleading. Like a mutt begging not to die, groveling at my feet—hmm...
My heart is absolutely brimming with joy.”
“You damned bitch!”
Lucian exploded with rage, his pretense shattered. He lunged upward, brute force surging as he hurled himself at her—
But Selene simply lifted one leg and kicked him squarely back down.
Just like at the gun shop, she raised her wrist—blue light shimmered—and a metal cable flicked out.
In one smooth motion, she hung the thrashing, screaming Lucian upside-down, head-first.
“You stinking bitch!”
“Do you even know who you’re messing with?!”
“Let me go right now!”
“You’re dead! Do you hear me?! You’re fucking dead!”
“You slut! You hear me?!”
Selene stood to the side, her expression placid.
Then, she raised her right hand.
Her pale fingers slowly spread.
Bang!
In an instant, her fingertips extended—transforming into five gleaming, razor-edged silver blades.
Clang clang clang ~
With a light kick, she nudged a grimy old iron basin from the wall directly beneath his head.
Lucian twitched as he caught the faint stench of expired dog food rising from within.
Panic set in.
“What—what the hell do you want?! What are you trying to do?!”
Selene approached, crouched beside him, and spoke in a tone thick with memory:
“Before I became a special agent, I hadn’t even killed a chicken. But in our first interrogation class, we were ordered to kill someone—on the spot. The materials we used were criminals or foreign spies.”
“Special agent...? Interrogation?”
Lucian broke into a cold sweat, something surfacing in the back of his mind.
“I was so scared, I cried during that session. My brother stepped in, saved me... kept me alive.”
Selene smiled suddenly—a stunning, distant smile.
But her eyes were void of tears.
A mechanical lifeform has no tears to shed.
“I remember... I remember!”
Lucian trembled as realization crashed over him.
“You’re—!”
Swish!
An arm fell off.
Lucian writhed in agony, unable to form words—only wheezing, veins bulging, his face a map of pain.
Before he could catch a breath—
Swish! The other arm followed.
“AHHHHHH!!!”
“How are you alive?! You were dead—you were dead!!”
Selene’s voice dropped to a chilling murmur:
“My brother lost both arms before he died. He was frozen, then burned alive. He died in pieces—unrecognizable.”
“So no, I won’t be excessive.”
“I’ll just let you experience... exactly what he went through.”
...
Time crawled until dawn.
Selene stepped out from the banquet hall.
She didn’t spare even a glance at the dying PsyBro survivors writhing across the deck.
With a casual stomp of her boot, she shattered a wide section of the deck beneath her—BOOM—and rocketed skyward.
Hundreds of meters into the air, she pushed off with her slender legs once more—
Bang!!!
Air ruptured around her like thunder.
Her figure blurred as she shot toward the faint coastline far in the distance.
A moment later.
A secluded stretch of the harbor.
Whoosh!
Selene descended from the heavens like a bolt of lightning, landing with a heavy thud on the dock.
She turned slightly, casting one final glance back at the distant yacht, her voice soft and laden with feeling:
“Vengeance... complete. Time to return.”
But then—
A chill.
A sudden, inexplicable intent to kill, locking tightly onto her presence.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh —
The space tens of meters to her left suddenly boiled like water poured over scorching metal.
And then—
Swish!
A ripple of shattered, glass-like phantom rings spiraled outward as a humanoid silhouette emerged from thin air—narrow at the waist, broad at the shoulders.
A tall, burly man. Slicked-back hair. Greasy. A lazy grin on his face.
“Ah—”
The man yawned, brushing his oily hair back.
“I tried to rush here, but alas... didn’t make it in time.”
He looked Selene up and down, then smiled casually:
“Well, survival of the fittest, right? Nature’s oldest rule. You were stronger than Lucian, so he died. That’s all there is to it.
And if I’m stronger than you—well, your death is equally natural.”
He chuckled, stretching slightly.
“Name’s Daoheng. President of the PsyBro Syndicate.”
The moment his words ended, he stomped—CRACK!—shattering the concrete beneath his feet and launching himself forward like a bullet, roaring.
His fist came crashing toward Selene’s face with a howl of air.
Bang!
The ground quaked violently. A shockwave exploded outward.
Daoheng’s smirk froze.
His mighty punch—brimming with confidence and power—had been effortlessly caught.
By one hand.
Selene stood perfectly still. She hadn’t even shifted her footing.
Not a single step.
“Eighteen hundred tons of force.”
She tilted her head slightly, voice cold.
“Too weak.”
She tightened her grip—
But then...
Huh?
No matter how much force she applied, her fingers couldn’t seem to grip his fist.
It was like the pressure just slid off his body entirely—refusing to make contact with anything solid.
“Hmph.”
Daoheng smiled without effort.
“Raw strength? Not my specialty.
Space... now that’s where I shine.”
His figure flickered. Instantly, he slipped free of her grasp.
He spread his five fingers and gently pressed them against Selene’s forehead—just enough to nudge her backward.
And as he moved—
The entire harbor scene began to warp. Twist. Fragment.
Light and shadow bled together—layer after layer of warped, spiraling mirage.
Swish —
In just one second, the world around them vanished like a dream dissolving.
Now they hovered above a seething red hell—
An ocean of superheated molten rock.
Bang!
Daoheng flung her downward.
Selene’s body slammed into a massive translucent crystal jutting from the magma field.
Crack crack crack!
The giant gem cracked and shattered, hurling her down into the gurgling, blistering depths of molten lava.
Daoheng leapt backward, floating effortlessly onto a different crystalline platform over a hundred meters away.
Hands in his pockets, he exhaled slowly.
“This is the subcrustal layer,” he said with a grin.
“High heat. High pressure. Lethal sulfur vapors.”
He lowered his eyelids and sat lazily, as if lounging at a spa.
“Took me 1,247 human trials to fully adapt to it.
Though really, I can adapt to any environment.”
Whoosh ~
Selene burst from the magma like a missile.
Her back flared open—rockets ignited—plumes of blue fire and scorching current surged behind her.
She soared through the heat haze and stopped just ten meters from Daoheng.
With a flick of her hand, she patted the molten slag off her body like it was dust on a coat.
Raising her eyes, she stared at the man, vast streams of data flickering through her pupils.
“An adaptability beyond logic... not just to environments, but also to attacks.”
Her voice remained calm.
“Was this trait awakened in some kind of laboratory?”
“Bingo.”
Daoheng narrowed his eyes, smirking.
“Got it around age thirteen.”
His gaze sharpened.
“A cyborg, huh? Good... the more anomalies out there, the better.
So many that eventually, they’ll squeeze humanity out of existence.”
As he spoke, he casually waved his hand.
Swish!
A semi-transparent phantom blade—wide as a steel door—materialized from thin air and tore through the space between them.
The strike was blindingly fast.
Selene’s cybernetic brain barely reacted in time.
She dodged—just barely.
Still—
Swish!
The blade grazed her.
It sliced a half-inch of flesh clean off her arm and shoulder.
Even the deeply embedded Carbyne spiritual bone—capable of withstanding boiling temperatures—was scored with harsh, metallic scratches.
And that phantom blade?
It didn’t slow down.
It shot into the distant sky, disappearing into the endless, vaporous steam above the magma sea.
Daoheng chuckled.
“What kind of alloy are you made from, to still be standing after that?”
Daoheng straightened up in disbelief, his voice dropping to a low, heavy tone:
“My Dimensional Slash is essentially a spatial rift.
And space is the most unyielding structure in the universe—no material should be able to resist it.
Yet you... you withstood it.
Unbelievable.”
Hiss hiss hiss ~
Selene quietly rubbed the torn flesh of her arm, where sparks continued to crackle and flare.
Her voice remained calm, even clinical:
“Your spatial teleportation ability... was that also awakened in a lab?”
As she spoke, streams of shimmering silver-gray fluid began seeping from her wounds—flowing outward like liquid metal, restoring the outer framework of her body with mechanical precision.
“Teleportation? Ah—”
Daoheng let out a scoffing laugh.
“No. It’s not teleportation, it’s destruction.
【Void-Step Invisibility】 allows me to rip open space—
To tear reality and walk anywhere I please.”
He grinned darkly.
“Dimensional Slash is just a spinoff.
Even I wouldn’t dare take a full hit from it.”
His voice grew colder.
“But you did.
So... what about ten more?!”
His hands blurred as he violently flung forward ten blazing Dimensional Slashes, all shrieking toward Selene.
[Sentience Realm Interference Device · Isolate]
[Sentience Realm Interference Device · Silence]
Hum—
Selene’s body instantly shimmered, her form phasing between states—like light slipping through a veil.
The air around her warped, dimmed—then stabilized.
The incoming slashes dimmed slightly—just for a second.
Then—
Boom!!
They detonated upon her, blasting her downward into the magma sea.
The impact was cataclysmic, boring a hole through tens of thousands of tons of molten rock and dragging her hundreds of meters beneath the surface.
Gurgle gurgle gurgle—
Inside the suffocating inferno, Selene’s body was a ruin—gashed to the bone, electricity snapping across torn fibers and burnt plating.
But her eyes didn’t blink.
Her mind was already processing.
The Sentience Realm organ only interfered with powers sourced from the Sentience Realm.
And the temporary weakening in Daoheng’s attacks?
It confirmed it.
His powers were tied to that realm.
Then, a voice echoed in her neural interface:
“If I’m not mistaken, this so-called Void-Step Invisibility relies on architectural-level spatial modeling. Fascinating, but nothing more.
Dimensional Slash is simply an impure destructive field—an atomic interaction vector laced with energy from the Sentience Realm.”
"Your Highness?!"
Hum—
Selene’s eyes, despite the damage, flashed with a brilliant crimson pulse.
Above, Daoheng squinted downward.
“She should be dust by now...”
He tried to lock onto her life signs—but the thick magma distorted everything.
Then—
Boom!!
A red blur burst upward from the lava—
Her fist collided with Daoheng’s chin like a meteor strike.
The entire magma sea trembled within a hundred-meter radius.
But once again, the blow deflected unnaturally—dispersed into the surrounding air.
Bang!
Daoheng retaliated with another Dimensional Slash, hurling Selene backward across the sky.
He rubbed his chin with a grimace.
“You still won’t die? How the hell did you survive a spatial rift?!”
Selene hovered back into view, her expression composed—almost playful.
“No point pretending anymore.”
She tilted her head slightly, smiling:
“That wasn’t a spatial rift at all.”
“What did you say?!”
“The so-called Void-Step Invisibility doesn’t shatter space.
You merely fragment and re-route it—forming temporary layered channels.”
“Lies!”
Daoheng snarled, his hands raised.
"You're just making things up!"
Yet his movements grew wild—frantic.
He began conjuring not ten, not twenty—but dozens of Dimensional Slashes, all fusing and condensing into a swirling black orb:
A Dimensional Sphere.
Its core twisted with flickering singularities—an unstable rupture in reality.
Daoheng’s face twitched under the strain—this many, this fast, was pushing him.
But before he could stabilize it—
Selene moved.
Instead of retreating, she surged forward.
Her palms glowed with supercritical electromagnetic fields, hot as suns, violent as fusion reactions.
She grabbed the Dimensional Sphere directly.
And smiled coldly:
“Your so-called ‘rift’ is just a high-energy disruption of atomic interaction.
It severs macroscopic matter.
So all I need is a matching-level field—
To cancel it.”
Hum—
The Dimensional Sphere pulsed violently, destabilizing under her interference.
Daoheng’s face twisted in horror.
“Damn it—it's gonna blow!!
Let go of me, now!!”
Selene’s voice was quiet. Almost sweet.
“I won’t.”
“You said you couldn’t block Dimensional Slashes, right?
So why don’t you try one?”
“You lunatic—!”
Daoheng screamed, eyes bloodshot.
“AAAAAARRRGHHHH!!”
BOOM!!!!!
The Dimensional Sphere exploded.
Both figures were engulfed in an expanding shockwave of annihilation.
Crystalline platforms vanished.
Toxic gas disintegrated.
The magma sea split open.
A crater several hundred meters wide gouged itself into the surface of the molten plain.
The chasm filled slowly with magma, bubbling and swirling—
But only one figure remained.
Selene stood at the center, bathed in radiant golden light.
Her body still intact.
Her face calm.
Daoheng?
Nothing but ash in the wind.
Hum—
The Real Number Channel opened behind her, a luminous rift in the fabric of space.
It enveloped Selene—
And she vanished without a trace.