Ch. 101..105: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 101-105

Chapter 101: Chance Or Trap

After Kail left, Zorion, who was walking behind, suddenly moved closer to her and sneered, "Lyra, your grandpa said that if you still care about your younger brother, you’d better behave."

He saw the look of anger and restraint on Lyra’s face.

Lyra replied coldly, "Tell Ansel that I won’t return to Elden Prime, and I won’t go around shouting about my identity. If he dares to harm Kail, I’ll let him pay a heavy price!"

Zorion chuckled, "You’re a smart girl."

With that, he boarded the spaceship and reported to Ansel.

No matter how tough Lyra was, she couldn’t ignore Kail. In the end, she still had to obey.

As the spaceship took off in the distance, Lyra turned her gaze back, her eyes cold as a frozen lake.

Just like when she stayed with the Shedd family for Kail’s sake, this time, she had to give Ansel another piece of leverage so he would think he was holding the reins to tame her. But who really had control of that rope would be revealed in time.

Since there was still some time before school started, Lyra headed straight to the factory.

She hadn’t been back for over a month, and her private opticomputer had been out of reach due to being outside the Alliance network, so many things needed her decision.

While going through the new contract orders, she unexpectedly found one from a Mendez company and called Morrison over.

"What’s going on?"

The Mendez family was indeed powerful, placing a massive order so large that even opening a new workshop wouldn’t complete it in time.

Lyra knew this was too good to be true.

"The order came in a week after you left." Morrison wiped the sweat off his forehead. His boss seemed even more dangerous after her trip.

"Who handled the negotiations?"

"The eldest Mendez son, Alon."

Now this was truly interesting. Lyra raised an eyebrow, "Did he come with a smile?"

"He was smiling, but it seemed like he wanted to bite someone," Morrison shrugged, joking.

So, who had forced Alon to come and make peace with her? "Was the contract signed?"

"Boss, this is a big deal, and the contract was solid, so I took the liberty of signing it." Morrison didn’t seem afraid of her anger, "I figured, we’re in business for profit, no need to overthink it."

He then waited quietly for her reaction.

"Heh, you did well."

Whatever the Mendez family’s intentions, they should take the money that was offered. Even if they wanted to back out later, they’d have to pay the penalty first.

Lyra swiftly dealt with other matters, working overtime for three days straight to review all the reports and contracts.

It’s a good thing Morrison was capable, or everything would have fallen apart.

When Sean found out she was finally back, he hurried over with a man in tow. "Boss, this is my senior, Koros, the champion of the Alliance Youth Intelligent Machinery Competition ten years ago. He was the one who turned the tide in the mecha contest..."

But the man cut him off, "I want to work with you. How much can you pay me?"

Honestly, if Sean didn’t respect him so much, Lyra would’ve thought this guy was just a homeless man from the street.

His messy, medium-length hair, unshaven face, and ragged clothes seemed to attract flies. Only his hands were clean, and his eyes, though appearing unfocused, held a defiant arrogance, as if there was nothing in the world worthy of his attention.

Lyra blinked, taking in Koros’s excitement. "I can provide you with all the research funding you need, but only if your results are worth it."

She shifted her gaze to Sean. "I’m sure Sean’s talked up the benefits of working here, but let’s be clear—I don’t have time or resources for anyone who can’t deliver."

Koros wasn’t the least bit offended by her straightforwardness. Instead, he grinned with barely contained excitement. "What if I want to research mechas? The kind with serious firepower!"

Morrison’s face immediately paled, and Sean, looking exasperated, yanked Koros aside, hissing, "Dude, we agreed not to mention that! You know mecha research is banned for private entities. If you’re set on this, go back to the Mecha Association!"

Even for non-military robots, the central intelligence systems were strictly regulated, with a hard limit at Class C. Getting caught pushing those boundaries could lead to massive fines or worse—jail time.

"I can allow it."

Those simple words from Lyra made everyone in the room freeze.

Lyra leaned back in her chair, eyes half-closed as if considering a routine matter. "I’ll supply the materials and funding for your research, but there are three conditions. First, no finished products. Not until I say so."

No finished products meant no evidence. Even if they were caught, they’d still have a way out.

"Second, you must back up all research data and give it to me. Sharing it with anyone else is strictly forbidden." She raised a third finger. "And third, you let me place a psychokinesis mark on you."

This condition effectively meant Koros would be binding himself—and his talents—entirely to her.

Morrison couldn’t help admiring Lyra’s ambition and ruthlessness.

"Perfect!" Koros didn’t hesitate, rushing to her desk. He pushed his hair back, and pointing to his forehead. "Do it now! Mark me!"

Sean looked like he wanted to object but realized it was useless. These two were trouble—one driven by ambition, the other consumed by his obsession.

The next day, after Lyra had handed Sean various minerals from Wyrmtrace for analysis, a young man with glossy black hair showed up in front of her.

He was slim and good-looking, but he approached her like a beggar, hands outstretched.

Sean’s jaw dropped as he clutched the rare materials protectively. "Who are you? How did you get in here? Where’s security?"

The young man gave Sean a look that clearly said he was an idiot.

"Koros?" Lyra recognized him instantly, thanks to the psychokinesis mark, and glanced at Sean. "You didn’t recognize him?"

"What?" Sean was flabbergasted, fumbling to take off his electronic glasses for a better look. "It’s really you, dude? So this is what you actually look like."

"..."

Koros’s eyes locked onto Lyra as he thrust his hands out further. "I heard there are high-grade energy minerals from Wyrmtrace. Can you spare me a few for my research?"

"And where did you hear that?"

"From the secret files sent back from Wyrmtrace." He paused briefly before adding, "But don’t worry, no one knows I accessed them."

’So, he hacked into the military’s internal network?’ Lyra thought, both impressed and amused, as she handed over some energy minerals from her Space Button. ’What a pity that the Alliance’s secret archives were still on paper’

Once all the factory matters were under control, Lyra received an invitation from Alon.

"Mr. Alon Mendez has invited you to dinner at the Ciel Hotel tonight to discuss the next phase of the cooperation," Morrison announced with his usual calm, reading from the dinner invite.

"If it’s about business, you can handle it," Lyra replied without even glancing up.

"But they specifically asked for you to attend."

’Here we go,’ she thought, setting her pen down. "Is that so? Then tell him to come to me personally."

If someone as high up as Alon was taking the first step, it meant they had something big in mind. She turned her attention to Morrison, her trusted right hand. "Have you figured out what this is about?"

Morrison met her gaze, steady as always. "I’ve heard that recently, the Mendez family patriarch has been running things. The old man is suffering from a severe genetic disease."

Chapter 102: Alon And Mandy

Nights in Emerald Harbor always had this deep, rich blue hue, with satellites overhead casting just enough light to make the city center glow like a finely crafted tech model.

In the neighborhoods, homes were lit up, and the usual sounds of people chatting and dogs barking filled the night air.

With a week left before school kicked off, Mandy was working late every day, trying to stash away a little extra cash.

This evening, as she neared the gate of her neighborhood, a sleek Lev pulled over, blocking her path once again.

She instinctively tightened her grip on her backpack straps, nerves on edge as a young man stepped out of the car.

"Mr. Mendez," she mumbled.

"You’re Vi’s good friend. You can call me Alon," Alon said, looking a bit weary but still maintaining that cool, composed vibe.

He noticed her shyness, which even the night couldn’t fully hide, and he offered her a gentle smile. "Mandy, for Vi’s sake, could you tell me who cured your grandmother?"

The sea breeze brushed past, clearing Mandy’s mind. She looked down, guilt weighing on her. "I... I can’t tell," she whispered, holding tight to the promise she’d made to Lyra.

She didn’t catch the brief flicker of impatience in Alon’s eyes. He was almost certain who had visited the Wright house during that time, but he didn’t want to believe it just yet.

"But my grandfather is also very ill, and it’s tearing me up," Alon sighed, his voice soft. "Just like when Mrs. Wright was so sick. I think you understand how I feel."

Of course, she understood. Her heart ached for him too.

Suddenly, Alon gently cupped her face, lowering his voice to a tender murmur. "Mandy, will you help me?"

The face Mandy had secretly dreamed of being close to was now inches away, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She quickly stepped back, tugging nervously at her braid. "No... no..." she stammered, but seeing the slight dissatisfaction in his now darker eyes, she bit her lip and added, "I’ll ask her..."

"That’s great!" Alon said eagerly.

Mandy found a quiet spot and dialed Lyra.

"Hello," Lyra answered, still in her office. She got up to grab a glass of water, noticing Mandy’s silence. "If you have something to say, just say it. I’m very busy."

The coldness in Lyra’s tone jolted Mandy back to her senses. ’What am I doing?’

She stuttered, "Um, Alon...

"He asked who cured your grandmother, didn’t he? By making this call, you’ve pretty much given him the answer," Lyra said as she pressed a switch to open the window. Her gaze drifted to the towering, lit-up buildings in the city center.

Lyra took a sip of water.

"I’m sorry," Mandy blurted out, her breath quickening with anxiety.

Lyra sighed. "You can tell him."

The way Alon had acted made it clear he already knew. Whether Mandy told him or not wouldn’t make much difference. Or, if Mandy told him, Alon would probably be more willing to swallow his pride now.

"Okay," Mandy replied, guilt and unease churning in her gut as she hung up the phone. She turned back to find Alon, eyes full of anticipation.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It’s Lyra," Mandy admitted, noticing the change in his expression. "She used medicine and her power to cure my grandmother."

"I see," Alon said in a subtle tone, slipping back into his role as the polite but distant heir of the Mendez family. "Thank you, Mandy. I’ll be going now."

As the Lev sped away, Mandy bit her lip bitterly. She felt like a disposable tool, used and discarded.

Sitting in the Lev, Alon let out a deep breath. When his grandfather had summoned him back from a distant planet for this task, he hadn’t wanted to believe it. But now, it was clear—the person they needed was indeed Lyra.

Thinking about the message from Morrison telling him to "handle it himself," he felt a wave of powerlessness and frustration.

He actually had to seek help from someone he’d nearly pushed away.

But what other option did he have? If it meant his grandfather could recover, swallowing a bit of pride was a small price to pay.

The next day, Lyra was ready for Alon’s visit.

He showed up with a group of bodyguards, dressed to the nines in a tailored light-gold suit, his hair meticulously styled. He had this look of reluctant grace about him as he stepped into her domain.

Morrison was there to greet him at the door, immediately blocking the bodyguards from coming in. "I’m sorry, but the meeting room is too small to accommodate so many people," he said politely.

Alon wasn’t about to overstep his bounds on someone else’s turf.

Since this wasn’t a formal business deal, he’d chosen to come without even a secretary. He followed Morrison inside alone, quietly taking in the details of the estate.

It was simple yet elegant, with infrared sensors and cameras at every turn.

Some areas even had DNA verification checkpoints, making it clear Lyra didn’t take security lightly.

Once they reached the upstairs meeting room, Morrison had an assistant bring out some tea.

"Please wait a moment," Morrison said before leaving Alon to his thoughts.

Alon ended up waiting for an hour.

Although the delay annoyed him, he kept his frustration under wraps.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Mendez," Lyra said as she finally entered the room.

Despite the formal setting, she wore a fitted white T-shirt, practical pants, and short boots, looking effortlessly composed.

Alon stood and offered his hand. "Not at all. I understand you’re a busy person now."

Lyra didn’t seem fazed by any lingering tensions between them. She shook his hand lightly.

"Shall we get started?" she asked, pulling out some documents Morrison had prepared.

She began discussing the specifics of an order, but Alon couldn’t hold back any longer. He interrupted, "I think you know the real reason I’m here."

Lyra shifted her gaze from the documents to his face, leaning back casually on the sofa. "What should I know?"

Alon narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly as if to apply pressure. "Do you really believe I’m interested in partnering with your small factory just for these insignificant profits?"

Lyra didn’t flinch. "Sorry, but for us, the smallest profits from your family are like a feast from the heavens," she replied, completely unfazed by his condescension. Her candid response left Alon momentarily speechless.

Deciding to cut to the chase, Alon clasped his hands together. "Mandy Wright called you yesterday, didn’t she? My reason for visiting is simple—I want you to cure my grandfather’s genetic disease."

There was a brief silence before Lyra smiled. "Mr. Mendez, are you joking? If you need treatment, you should go to a hospital. I may have some healing abilities, but I don’t even have a medical license. How could I possibly dare to treat Mr. Mendez?"

Getting her to agree wasn’t going to be easy, and Alon knew it. He decided to play his trump card. "I heard you’re trying to acquire a level-nine strength-enhancing plant on Wyrmtrace. It just so happens that we haven’t started the auction yet."

"Is that so? Make sure to let me know when the auction starts so I can gather the funds," Lyra replied with a cool smile.

"You..." Alon’s anger flared up, frustrated by her pretense. But he quickly calmed himself.

Studying her indifferent expression, he responded, "If you cure my grandfather, the level-nine plant will be your payment. Additionally, we can sign a confidentiality agreement."

Lyra’s demeanor finally turned serious. "It’s a deal then. I will visit the day after tomorrow. Make sure your grandfather is ready."

"Is there anything we need to prepare? A medical pod or other materials?" Alon asked.

"No need," Lyra replied.

Alon stood to leave, but just before he reached the door, Lyra called out, "What if, instead of a confidentiality agreement, I asked for a psychokinesis mark?"

Alon’s mind immediately jumped to the superpower seed embedded in his sister’s heart, and rage flared within him. "That’s not possible," he said, his voice tight with anger.

Both of them wisely avoided bringing up past conflicts. They left the room with their new arrangement in place, yet fully aware of the tensions that lingered beneath the surface.

 

Chapter 103: Saving Jorathon

Alon was still fuming when he got home. His anger was so intense that the servants greeting him barely dared to breathe, their curiosity piqued. ’Mr. Alon is usually even-tempered, so what has pushed him over the edge this time?’

In the living room, an old man with silver hair sat in a wheelchair, his eyes fixed on a report glowing on the screen before him.

"Is everything confirmed?" he asked, voice calm and slow.

Alon straightened up immediately. "Yes, the day after tomorrow, she’ll come in person to treat you. She specifically requested the level-nine strength-enhancing plant."

"Good. I’ll leave this to you," Jorathon replied, finally lifting his gaze to meet Alon’s. "Alon, you’re the heir I’ve chosen. Don’t let me down."

"Of course," Alon answered, his tone serious.

Without wasting a moment, he went off to contact the top doctors on Planet Nagano, ensuring that all the necessary equipment was prepared and on standby.

He understood the gravity of the situation. This wasn’t just about his grandfather’s life—it was about the entire future of the Mendez family.

If Jorathon Mendez didn’t survive, their enemies, or even distant relatives, would likely tear them apart, and the family would crumble.

By the time he had arranged everything, evening had fallen.

Alon, exhausted, pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, seeking a moment of peace.

Suddenly, the door to the study burst open.

"Alon! I heard you’re letting that witch treat Grandpa? And you’re giving her the level-nine plant?" Vivian stormed in. Her lace nightgown and bow-adorned headband suggested she had rushed over after hearing the news.

A cold glint flashed in Alon’s eyes. "Who told you?"

"Don’t try to change the subject. If I hadn’t recorded Bamby, you would’ve kept me in the dark!" she snapped, referring to her room’s robotic butler.

She marched around the desk, eyes blazing. "You know how she treated me, and now you want to work with her? And give her the level-nine plant? What makes her deserve it?"

Her voice was thick with betrayal and hurt.

"Because she’s confident she can cure Grandpa’s genetic disease," Alon replied, his head pounding but trying to keep his cool. "Grandpa doesn’t have much time left. Do you understand what that means for us if he’s gone?"

In a world dominated by superpowers, money alone wasn’t enough to ensure survival.

Vivian’s anger simmered down slightly. "But just because she claims she can cure him, we should trust her? What if she tries something and harms Grandpa instead?"

"She wouldn’t dare." Alon’s tone hardened as he looked at his still-fuming sister. "This is too important. Don’t be childish."

"But what about what she did to me? When she comes, she’ll mock me! Dad once said he could handle her, but here she is! We should’ve killed her instead of just trying to take the plant."

"Enough! Dad was punished by Grandpa because of that," Alon said, clearly done with the conversation. "Go get some rest."

Vivian was frustrated, but she knew Alon was as stressed as she was.

She turned and went to find Jorathon, tears brimming in her eyes.

"You have no idea how she mistreated me, Grandpa. You’ve never even scolded me, but she planted a superpower seed in my heart—she could kill me anytime she wants," Vivian sobbed as she lean her head on Jorathon’s lap.

Jorathon gently patted her head. "But I need to get better first, so I can protect you from her, sweetheart."

Vivian listened, but deep down, she wasn’t satisfied with his response.

...

Right on time, Morrison drove Lyra to the Mendez estate in a sleek Lev.

As they cruised through the city, he couldn’t help voicing out his concerns. "Boss, even if this deal goes through, what if the Mendez decide to retaliate later? Old Mendez isn’t exactly known for playing nice."

Lyra, reclining in the back seat, barely blinked as she answered, "Aside from charging them a hefty fee to cover potential losses, I don’t have any better ideas right now."

She then opened her eyes, staring out the window at the bustling cityscape.

Half of the skyscrapers and high-end malls they passed were tied to the Mendez family. Despite the bitter feud she had with this powerful clan, their mutual interests had forced them into this uneasy partnership.

But once Jorathon—the real power behind the Mendez—recovered, could she withstand the inevitable backlash?

The answer was pretty clear.

When they pulled up to the Mendez estate, a familiar face was there to greet her at the entrance. It was the same housekeeper who had once kicked her into the hole on Wyrmtrace—a senior servant of the Mendez family.

"Welcome, miss," the housekeeper said, her narrow eyes set deep between puffy lids and dark circles, giving her a haughty and mean appearance.

Lyra stepped out of the car and gave a polite nod. "Thank you for all you did."

It wasn’t clear if she was referring to the current greeting or the brutal kick she’d received back on Wyrmtrace.

As expected, Morrison wasn’t allowed to enter the estate.

Unfazed, Lyra turned to him. "You can head back. I’ll let you know when I’m done."

Knowing she had a plan, Morrison nodded. "Sure thing, Boss. Just give me a shout, and I’ll come get you."

"Will do."

With that, Lyra was led through the grand estate to the back of a lavish, palace-like villa.

This area felt even more secluded and mysterious, with ancient trees and thick, twisting vines—a symbol of the Mendez family’s deep roots and enduring power.

Inside, Lyra was guided to a room where an old man sat on a white fabric sofa. The housekeeper stepped aside and introduced him, "This is Mr. Jorathon Mendez."

Jorathon was of average build, dressed in a green hospital gown, ready for treatment. His face was pale, but his eyes—drooping yet sharp with years of wisdom—radiated an authority that could chill anyone to the bone.

Though just over a hundred years old, Jorathon was already a level-eight Peculiar. If his illness was cured, he could easily live another seventy or eighty years, with a chance of advancing to level-nine or beyond, delivering the Mendez family to even greater heights.

Without bothering to glance around, Lyra nodded slightly as she introduced herself. "I’m Lyra."

Before Jorathon could respond, she added, "Time is limited. Show me what you’ve got."

Though she didn’t have the experience or power of the Mendez, Lyra stuck to her own pace. She knew they needed her more than she needed them—especially since they didn’t realize how vital the level-nine plant was to her.

Jorathon smiled calmly. "Of course." He then gestured to the housekeeper. "Have Alon bring it over."

The housekeeper nodded and was about to leave when Alon quickly entered the room. Seeing Lyra, Alon immediately plastered on a smile. "What brings you here so early?"

Lyra was almost an hour ahead of schedule.

Lyra noticed the anxiety in Alon’s eyes and replied calmly, "Some preparations need to be made in advance."

Alon maintained his smile as he walked over to his grandfather, whispering something in his ear.

Jorathon’s eyelids flickered before he looked back at Lyra. "There’s still some time before the scheduled treatment. Since you need to prepare, feel free to start. I also need the doctors to make further adjustments to my condition."

Then, turning to Alon, he added, "Alon, take Miss Shedd to the room."

Once they were inside the room, which was filled with various medical equipment, Alon began explaining the upcoming procedures. But Lyra cut him off, getting straight to the point. "Is there an issue with what I requested?"

Chapter 104: Miss Vivian

The level-nine plant was extremely valuable, even to the Mendez family. From the moment it was brought back, they kept it in the underground vault of the Mendez family home.

Early in the morning, Alon went to retrieve it, but when he arrived at the vault, he found that it was missing!

Only four people knew the vault’s password.

His father was away, and his grandfather wouldn’t take the plants without saying something first, so that left only one person—Vivian.

He tried to contact Vivian immediately, but it showed she was out of network service. To avoid him, she had even smashed her opticomputer.

The anti-surveillance skills she learned in school were useful today, making it difficult for them to track her down quickly.

Alon wanted to stall his grandfather for a bit longer, but Lyra arrived earlier than expected and caught him.

"If I don’t see the level-nine plant, there’s no point in preparing anything, and there’s no need to look at the agreement either," Lyra said as she sat in a swivel chair. "Who took them? Vivian?"

Alon really wanted to ask if she had installed surveillance at the Mendez’s place. "How did you know?"

"Who else besides the eldest Mendez daughter would dare play around with the old man’s life?"

A spoiled child could be so reckless, but this might actually be an opportunity.

Just then, Lyra received a message from Morrison: The supervisor of the ’Core’ workshop reported that Mandy had called in sick today.

’Mandy called in sick?’ Lyra narrowed her eyes, thinking about having Morrison keep an eye on her, but then stopped.

Having Morrison take action at this time might seem suspicious to the Mendez family, even though she had nothing to do with this situation.

While the Mendez family was searching everywhere, Vivian was having breakfast in Mandy’s home.

She was holding a small black metal box in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. "Why is this instant coffee? Can’t you go to the market and buy beans?"

She took a sip and then set the cup aside, complaining that the Croissant Mandy bought were too greasy.

"I was afraid of being noticed if I went too far, because my family doesn’t drink coffee," Mandy replied, sitting across from her with some unease.

Although Mandy didn’t know what treasure Vivian had taken, Vivian had warned her the moment she stepped through the door: no matter who asked, she mustn’t reveal Vivian’s whereabouts. She also mentioned Lyra, which made Mandy feel uneasy.

"Vivian, you ran away like this, but what about your family...?"

"I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to worry about it!" Vivian snapped, tossing the Croissant aside. "I won’t let that witch get what she wants!"

Vivian knew that Lyra would do anything to get the level-nine plant, so it must be very important to her. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, so she stole it.

"I’m warning you, don’t forget that you still owe my family money and favors. If I find out that you revealed my whereabouts, I’ll make your family sell the cando to pay off the debt!"

Vivian’s other friends all lived in downtown, where it was too easy to be found; otherwise, she never would have come to this dump.

Mandy’s face turned pale at those words.

At that moment, Mandy’s mother couldn’t resist coming out of her room, taking Vivian’s hand in a fawning manner. "Miss Mendez, Mandy always listens to you. Don’t worry, we won’t say anything."

Vivian pulled her hand back ungraciously and wiped it with a tissue. "Good. Make sure you remember that."

Mandy held her mother’s hand tightly. "Mom, aren’t you supposed to be going to work? You’re going to be late."

As she sent her parents off, Mandy’s mother kept reminding her to behave and to repay Miss Mendez’s kindness properly, because they couldn’t afford to pay back the debt otherwise.

"Yeah, I know."

Once the house was empty, leaving just the two of them, Vivian yawned and casually asked, "Where’s your grandma?"

"She went out for a walk."

Vivian’s eyebrows shot up. "She can walk again?"

Mandy nodded. "Yes, last time we visited the hospital, the doctor said she was fully recovered." She hesitated, remembering that it was around then that Alon started snooping around, asking her all kinds of questions about this miraculous recovery.

Vivian’s hand tightened around the metal box she was holding. "So, she really can cure genetic diseases?"

"Yes, she can."

Vivian still wasn’t entirely convinced. Her grandfather’s condition was severe, and even the top doctors in the Alliance had deemed it untreatable.

Just then, Mandy’s mother, who had only left a few minutes earlier, called. Her voice was tense and low. "There are a lot of Mendez bodyguards in the neighborhood. They’re searching."

Alon had been tracking Vivian’s movements and, by now, had zeroed in on her location.

"Vivian, you should go back," Mandy urged, her voice trembling with fear.

"No way!" Vivian shot up, panic flashing across her face. "We’re leaving!"

Without wasting a second, she grabbed Mandy and bolted.

Vivian, with her sharp instincts, skillfully led them through the tight, winding streets of the neighborhood. Within minutes, they had lost their pursuers.

They kept running until they reached the river on the outskirts of the city. As Vivian was about to cross the bridge, Mandy tugged on her arm, trying to stop her. "We can’t go any further. The Forgotten Quarter is on the other side. It’s way too dangerous there!"

The Forgotten Quarter had once been the heart of Emerald Harbor, but that was hundreds of years ago. Back then, technology wasn’t what it is now, and the area was plagued with radiation pollution.

Most people had moved out when the new Emerald Harbor was built, leaving the quarter to become a slum and a dumping ground.

Because the land was dirt cheap, factories producing everyday goods popped up everywhere, drawing in a large population of ordinary folks.

These people didn’t have special abilities or advanced skills, so they had no choice but to sell their labor.

The infrastructure was a mess, and the lack of proper surveillance meant shady characters had made it their home, turning the place into a chaotic danger zone.

"Most of the people there are just regular folks. What are you so scared of? We’ll hide out for a bit and then make our move," Vivian insisted.

Without waiting for a reply, she dragged Mandy across the bridge.

The moment they crossed, it was like stepping into a different world.

The once-clear blue river marked the boundary. The area they entered was filthy, with scrawny, dirty children running around. Many of them couldn’t even afford to go to school.

A gray haze hung over everything.

A group of kids noticed the two clean, well-dressed ladies and quickly surrounded them, grinning. "Miss, please, we need food!"

In a nearby alley, some older boys took one look at them and bolted into a rundown house. "Bearface, there are two hot chicks at the bridge. One of them is even prettier than the one we did last night!"

The men inside, who had been playing cards, dropped everything when they heard this. "You better not be messing with us!"

"I’m not lying, they’re right by the bridge!" The boy nodded eagerly, knowing this could mean some easy cash.

The men cracked the window and peeked out. Their eyes widened in excitement. "Wow, he’s telling the truth!"

One of them tossed some astrocredits to the boy. "Keep this up, and you’ll be eating well this month."

The boy beamed, thrilled that his troubles were over for now.

The men, now grinning like wolves, walked out toward the girls. "Hey there, sunshine! Where are you headed? Want to have some fun with us?"

The kids who had been pestering Vivian and Mandy scattered, yelling that they were off to get candy.

Mandy turned pale, her hands clutching Vivian’s arm in fear. "Vivian, we need to go back."

Vivian sneered. "Look at you, scared out of your mind!" She pushed Mandy aside and flicked her wrist, summoning a whip made of water.

In just a few swift strikes, she took down the group of men, leaving them shocked and sprawled on the ground.

"Hmph," she scoffed, arrogantly flipping her hair as she pulled Mandy deeper into the slum.

Meanwhile, the Mendez bodyguards, who had been trailing them, stopped dead in their tracks. They couldn’t believe it—how had the young Mendez heiress ended up in this forsaken place.

 

Chapter 105: Danger In The Slums

When Alon got the message, he felt a strong urge to storm out and start searching for people himself. But he couldn’t. He needed to stay close to Lyra, just in case she tried something reckless.

"Boost the manpower, deploy drones for surveillance, and don’t let her stir up any trouble over there!" he commanded, his tone sharp.

Meanwhile, Lyra sat there, casually holding a glass of water, her fingers tracing the rim with an eerie calm.

Everything about Vivian screamed spoiled rich girl—someone who thought the whole world should bend to her will.

The slums were teeming with ordinary folks. The main problems there were poverty and crumbling infrastructure.

Sure, there was plenty of shady business, but most of it was small-time crime. Still, that didn’t mean there weren’t dangerous people lurking around.

A level-four Peculiar and a level-three Peculiar could walk through the slums without much worry—if they kept their heads down.

But Vivian wasn’t exactly known for being subtle.

She attracted trouble like a magnet, and when it came, she handled it with ruthless efficiency.

The slums were always crowded, lacking the surveillance that blanketed the city, so Vivian didn’t bother hiding her powers.

As she made her way through the narrow, shadowy streets, stepping on grime-covered pavement, her frustration grew. "How can a place be so backward and filthy? It’s even worse than your neighborhood!" she grumbled.

Mandy followed closely, always on edge, trying to convince Vivian to turn back. But Vivian ignored her completely.

Before long, they were cornered in a tight alley.

"It’s them," muttered a bruised man, pointing a shaky finger at them. "Good catches, but tough to handle."

In the slums, many women, driven by poverty or force, ended up in the red-light district. Some of the more attractive ones got sent to work in the nicer parts of the city, where the pay was better.

This grim reality drew in all kinds of predators—organizations and individuals looking to exploit these women.

Some factory owners even refused to hire women, pushing them toward this harsh life.

And then there were the criminals, like the gang now blocking Vivian and Mandy’s way, who kidnapped women who strayed into the slums.

The area was too wild, too chaotic to be controlled.

The gang leader, a burly man with a scruffy beard, wore a black jacket open to reveal a nasty scar across his chest and a set of muscles that made him look menacing.

He eyed Vivian up and down with a grin. "Definitely a good catch."

He gave her a nod, saying, "You’re a level-four at your age. Why not join me? It’s better than serving men in whore houses."

Vivian’s eyes blazed with anger as she spat on the ground. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?"

The man just chuckled, calling her "little wild pussy," then he looked over at Mandy with a smirk. "This one’s more plain. Aleen, teach her how to serve clients."

Vivian’s fury boiled over. She lashed out with a whip made of water, but the man shattered it with one powerful punch.

It was then she noticed his fists were covered in heavy metal gauntlets. He cracked his knuckles and charged at her, landing a punch that sent her flying.

The surge of energy from his attack was unmistakable—this guy was way stronger than them, and his combat skills were far beyond anyone they’d faced before.

Vivian’s face twisted with frustration as she gritted her teeth. "What are you standing there for? Attack with me!" she yelled at Mandy.

Mandy forced herself to stay composed, summoning razor-sharp wind blades that sliced through the air, aiming for the man.

But as they struck his stone armor, they only made a dull, clinking sound, leaving him unharmed.

Vivian charged at him, but after a brief exchange, he grabbed her arm and twisted it until it snapped.

Vivian collapsed against the wall, a scream of agony escaping her lips.

Amid the chaos, a small metal box slipped from Vivian’s grasp, unnoticed as it hit the ground.

Just then, the buzzing of a drone echoed above the alley.

Vivian’s eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "I’m here!" she shouted desperately.

The man didn’t miss a beat. He tore a chunk of stone from the wall and hurled it at the drone, smashing it to pieces. He turned back to Vivian, her face drained of color, and sneered. "You really think you can escape me?"

Mandy leaned in close to Vivian, whispering urgently, "I’ll count to three, and we’ll run together."

Vivian gave a quick nod.

"One, two, three—"

Mandy suddenly sent a nearby trash can flying into the air, scattering garbage everywhere and creating the perfect distraction.

"Let’s go!" she urged.

But just as she reached out to pull Vivian along, she felt a sharp shove. Vivian pushed her hard into the trash, then bolted.

The gang leader and his men took off after Vivian, leaving behind a level-four Peculiar and a few thugs to handle Mandy.

"Damn it, that little b*tch!" The driver, a fat, middle-aged man, slapped Mandy hard across the face twice, his breath reeking of anger.

Mandy snapped back to reality, a flash of wild desperation in her eyes that made the man hesitate. But his hesitation didn’t last long—he grabbed her by the hair and spat in her face.

"Glare at me like that again?"

Mandy finally felt the icy grip of fear, her body trembling uncontrollably.

One of the thugs whistled, "Hey, dude, this one might not be as pretty as the other, but she’s fresh. Since she’s gonna be working anyway, why not let the boys have a taste?"

Laughter echoed through the alley.

In the dim light, the level-four thug grabbed Mandy’s arm and pinned her to the wall.

She screamed, thrashing wildly, but more men held her down as a brutal punch to her stomach left her gasping for air, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.

Then she went still.

"That’s more like it," the fat man grunted, yanking open the zipper of her hoodie. He snorted with piggish delight as he pressed against her.

Mandy bit down hard on her lip, her eyes flickering to the gun at his waist.

Then she noticed the metal box, forgotten in the corner.

"W-wait... I have a high-grade plant!" The words spilled out as Mandy remembered Vivian’s panicked shout about it earlier.

The man, who had been about to pull down his pants, froze. He tightened his grip on her hair, eyes narrowing. "You think you can play games with me?"

The cold air bit at Mandy’s exposed skin, making her shiver uncontrollably. Tears welled up in her eyes as she pleaded, "It’s in that box... Please, let me go."

The temptation of high-grade plants was too strong to resist. The man barked at his lackeys to hold her while he cautiously retrieved the box.

When he opened it, a surge of pure energy flooded the air.

Everyone froze, eyes wide with disbelief.

"It’s real!" one of the men exclaimed.

They crowded around, caught up in the excitement, but their celebration was cut short by a sudden gust of wind.

Wind blades slashed through the alley, sending thugs crashing into the walls.

The fat man lunged at Mandy, but two sharp gunshots rang out, and his head exploded in a spray of blood.

Mandy stood there, trembling, holding the gun with tears streaming down her face.

Using her powers, she struck down the remaining men. It wasn’t until the blood pooled around her feet that she snapped back to reality.

She hurriedly dressed, grabbed another handgun, and packed the level-nine plant into her bag.

Cautiously, she tracked down Vivian. The sounds of her screams and the man’s lewd laughter echoed from inside a nearby building.

As Mandy stood there, the memory of what she’d just endured flared up in her mind, filling her with a deep, burning hatred.

Without another glance, she turned and ran away.

...

The ringing of her opticomputer snapped Lyra back to reality. It was Morrison.

"What’s going on?" she asked, her tone sharp.

"Boss, aren’t you done yet? There’s a situation at the factory..." Morrison’s voice crackled through the device.

Lyra quickly slipped on her headset, listening intently as he filled her in. Without hesitating, she made a decision. "Alright, you handle it for now. I’ll be back this afternoon."

After ending the call, she couldn’t help but glance over at Alon. "How much longer do I have to wait?"

"We’re still checking," Alon replied, frustration seeping into his voice. He was even more anxious than she was. ’What on earth was that reckless young woman thinking?!’

Meanwhile, in the slums, the sky was a constant murky mix of gray and yellow, the air thick with smog from the nearby factories.

"Ahh—I’ll kill you... No, let me go..."

Vivian’s screams echoed through the dirty streets, growing fainter with each passing second.

Mandy, trembling and huddled beside a trash can, finally mustered the courage to make a call.

"Hello, Mr. Mendez?"

In the end, she knew she had no other choice but to reach out to him.