Chapter 12: Ambush

March 24, 2024, clear, on the highway to Ting’an City.

“We’ve been pulled into a spatial Contract’s domain,” Carlos said, flooring the gas pedal.

His glance at the rearview mirror turned icy.

“What? Again?! No way! We’re not even in Qingtan anymore, and someone’s still trying to kill us? It’s not even raining! Since when can a domain drag a whole car in?” Xia Yin rambled from his seat, his left hand gripping the handle of his black blade.

As an innocent bystander, Xueqiu didn’t understand a word of their exchange.

What was “Youdu”? What was a “domain”?

All she felt was the Wuling Hongguang speeding through thick fog, the speedometer needle nearing 120 km/h.

They were trying to shake something off.

Xueqiu glanced at the right rearview mirror.

Visibility behind was as bad as ahead, like the car was cloaked in mist.

But soon, she spotted vague black shapes in the fog.

The shapes trailed the minivan, matching its near-120 km/h speed…

“Can’t lose them. Xia Yin, you drive. I’ll handle them,” Carlos said coldly, staring into the rearview mirror as the car hurtled forward.

Them?

More “Shadow Ghosts” like that night?

Xueqiu stayed calm.

Normally, she’d have been terrified, at least panicking inside.

But now, for some reason, she felt no fear.

Instead, she started wondering what kind of monsters these might be.

“Me? You kidding, Senior?! I just got my license last week!” Xia Yin protested.

“Then you go out, I’ll drive. Make it quick.”

The minivan entered a pitch-black tunnel.

With a click, the door lock opened.

Carlos turned on the headlights and slightly eased off the gas.

“Hiss…” Xia Yin pursed his lips, visibly reluctant.

“Fine, fine… Xueqiu, your seatbelt’s secure, right? Grab the handle—I’m opening the door.”

Xueqiu gripped the nearest handle.

A rush of wind roared in her ears, her body pinned by the seatbelt.

When she looked back, Xia Yin, who’d been sitting there, was gone.

Only the half-open door and endless darkness outside remained.

He’d gone out.

Xueqiu checked the rearview mirror.

She couldn’t see clearly, but those black shapes were likely still chasing.

Beyond the relentless wind and buzzing in her ears, she heard five, six, maybe seven or eight metallic clangs.

She thought of that blade—the night Xia Yin saved her, wielding that same black blade.

The tunnel’s end grew from a pinpoint of light to a semicircle.

Xueqiu counted the seconds since Xia Yin left.

At the number “7,” a massive boom shook the roof, like a boulder crashing onto the Wuling Hongguang.

But this was a tunnel—no falling rocks here.

Then, under the orange interior light, a hand gripped the roof’s edge, fingers nearly digging into the metal.

“Fck, fck, fck! That hurt!”

The next second, Xia Yin swung back into the minivan along the edge.

Caught off guard, Xueqiu was pushed against the opposite door by his body.

The door slammed shut, the howling wind stopped.

Coming to her senses, Xueqiu saw the blade-wielding boy back in his seat.

His hair was mussed, his white shirt stained with three or four black smudges.

“You okay?” Xueqiu asked, dazed.

The scene didn’t look like something a normal human could pull off.

“Fine, fine. Just a few small fry. Took ‘em out with my ‘Mist Cutter’—easy!” Xia Yin said.

As he spoke, the Wuling Hongguang exited the tunnel.

The world outside was no longer eerie.

The sky was blue again, cars passed normally, and the road looked brand-new, not on the brink of collapse.

“What was that?” Xueqiu asked.

The crimson sky, the ruined highway—she hadn’t imagined it.

That was the road they’d just driven through.

“Someone else tried to take us out,” Carlos said, gripping the wheel, each word deliberate.

“The attacker used Contract Number 137, ‘Lízhū,’ to pull us into their domain.”

“Stop, stop, you’ll just confuse her, Carlos. Let the Professor explain later… Oh, right, Carlos, put in a good word for me with the old man when we’re back. My Contract Management and Research grade this semester depends on you…” Xia Yin said, rolling up his stained sleeve with a fawning grin.

“I’ll include it in the report—both attacks and your role,” Carlos replied.

For some reason, Xueqiu suddenly felt like a stranger to them again.

She didn’t understand terms like “domain” or “Youdu,” nor what Contract Management and Research was.

Xia Yin had said a Contract was like a disease, and they were both “sick,” Xueqiu thought.

But could a “sick” person slip out of a speeding minivan, kill monsters, and slip back in seconds later?

She recalled that rainy afternoon when Xia Yin shot her hand, yet she had no wound.

“Still thinking about it?” Xia Yin asked, resting his arm behind his head, looking at her.

“No need to panic. I killed those monsters. I’ve got a spatial Contract like that guy—crushing small fry is like squashing ants.”

“Contract…” Xueqiu murmured.

“You said we’re patients, and a Contract is a disease.”

“A Contract isn’t a disease. It’s our weapon,” Carlos’s voice came from the front.

“I know, I know, calling it a ‘disease’ is wrong. ‘Contracts are weapons bestowed upon us, so we have the duty and responsibility to kill all Shadow Ghosts and uncover Youdu’s truth,’ blah blah blah. I got a 95 in Introduction to Spiritual Academy Ideology my freshman year. I haven’t forgotten that*,” Xia Yin muttered.

“But you’ve been held back in your sophomore year for three years,” Carlos said coldly.

“I’m only nineteen! Nineteen and a sophomore is normal, right? And this mission went smoothly, didn’t it? If it’s smooth, I’ll move to junior year next semester. Maybe I’ll even aim for Pivot Reserve like you, Carlos—though I’m not big on fighting.”

Xia Yin’s dead-fish eyes scanned the van, from Carlos in the driver’s seat to Xueqiu sitting quietly beside him, then to the steaming blade in his hand.

He never ran out of things to say, which mildly annoyed Xueqiu.

She had so many questions but couldn’t find an opening.

“By the way, Xueqiu,” Xia Yin’s dead-fish eyes flickered with light, then dimmed.

“I’m your senior, sure, but… just call me Xia Yin from now on.”