Vol2 Chapter 18: Chicago
In the dorm, Bai Ci and Zero were trying on the bodysuits sent by the Equipment Department, adorned with half-decayed World Tree shoulder patches and Cassell College badges pinned to their chests.
“What’s wrong?”
Zero noticed Bai Ci’s uneasy expression and asked.
“It’s just… my chest feels tight, a bit uncomfortable.”
“Normal,” Zero said, tying up her hair. “The Equipment Department guys are holed up in sunless Vanaheim, where no woman would want to stay. They base the clothes on Norma’s data.” She paused. “Also, I suggest getting your own gear. To them, explosions are art. Their weapons are all about boom and power—everything else is our problem.”
“That extreme?”
“Their modified flare guns can blow up a truck. Their lighters shoot flames hot enough to be lightsabers.”
“Got any Zakus or Gundams?” Bai Ci’s eyes lit up, a rare spark.
“Not practical. Against dragons, they’re sitting targets.”
“Oh.” Bai Ci’s head drooped, disappointed. She’d have loved to try one.
“They do have self-destructing trucks. Wanna be the driver?” Zero glanced at her.
“Nah.” Bai Ci shook her head. Who’d want to drive a self-destructing truck? Straight to death? I’d rather drive a modded hundred-ton rig—might even crush a Deadpool flat.
“Keep this.” Zero tossed her a small packet. Bai Ci fumbled to catch it, finding ten 7.62mm bullets.
“Where’d you get these?” Bai Ci looked at Zero. The mission location was crowded and sensitive, so no live ammo was issued—just Frigga bullets and some Equipment Department trinkets.
“Is it weird to buy these in the U.S.?” Zero turned, her blue eyes meeting Bai Ci’s.
“Fair point.” Bai Ci loaded the bullets into a magazine and tucked it into her bag.
“Commissioner Bai, time to move out.”
“Don’t call me that… just use my name.”
With a roar, the CC1000 express burst out of the red pine forest. Unobstructed winter sunlight glinted off the black train, casting dazzling spots as it sped toward bustling Chicago at 300 km/h, carrying four Cassell students.
The mission was B-rank, not requiring aces like Caesar or Chu Zihang. The commissioners were Bai Ci and Lu Mingfei, with Xia Mi and Zero as support. Given their affiliations and the ambiguous relationship between Bai Ci and Lu Mingfei, they split into Lionheart and Student Union teams: Bai Ci with Xia Mi, Zero with Lu Mingfei—each an S-rank paired with an A-rank. After the mission, they could catch the sailing race between Chicago University and Cassell.
“To avoid unnecessary trouble, my codename’s Alpha, Lu Mingfei’s Beta, Zero’s Gamma, Xia Mi’s Delta,” Bai Ci said, reading Norma’s message on her phone.
“Why no Shuke?” Lu Mingfei quipped.
“Want me to get you a tank, Senior?” Xia Mi, always in sync with his weird wavelength, chimed in. “Or maybe you want to fly a plane?”
“Ask Norma about that,” Bai Ci said, used to Lu Mingfei’s tangents. Her focus was the mission. She pulled out photos, each marked with coordinates, showing a lavish nightclub glowing under moonlight. Its massive glass walls reflected the city’s clamor, neon lights primed for the night. The building’s facade was adorned with ornate gold lines, its entrance lit by a crystal chandelier radiating allure, welcoming all to its realm of revelry. Doormen in sharp suits flanked the entrance, and the plaza out front was packed with luxury cars—sleek sports cars to vintage classics, each screaming wealth and status.
The photographer had talent. The images alone oozed extravagance, capturing the venue’s vibe with perfect lighting.
The dossier described it as a high-end dance hall. The target, a hybrid who’d used ancient dragon blood from a tomb to evolve, was among the crowd. His enhanced dragon blood gave him superhuman charisma, making it easy to charm women in the hormone-charged nightclub. Girls thinking they’d found their dream guy in one night were attacked once he lured them away. Interestingly, he targeted wealthy, beautiful heiresses.
“When we get there, we’ll buy suits and dresses,” Bai Ci said, turning to Xia Mi. “You’re in charge of splashing cash at the nightclub.”
“Whoa! I get to play the big shot?” Xia Mi’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
—
Five hours later, outside the nightclub.
A black Lincoln pulled up to the opera house entrance. The driver stepped out, back ramrod straight, dressed in a custom Armani suit, a crisp white lace tie, and polished Ferragamo shoes. Onlookers gaped as he puffed out his chest, exuding dominance, a brown Burberry trench draped over his shoulders. He turned, bowed slightly, and opened the car door. “Please, Miss Xia.”
The ostentatious display stunned every guest. This guy, dressed in a hundred-thousand-dollar outfit, was just the driver!
Their shock didn’t last.
The woman stepping out was even more astonishing.
Like a princess from a fairytale, she wore a confident smile. Her alabaster skin glowed golden under the lights, her silky hair cascading over her shoulders. A gentle breeze sent her locks dancing. Just standing there, she dimmed all surrounding luxury.
No one had seen such a beautiful woman. Many stopped, eyes glinting with greed.
“Nice acting. I almost thought you were a real heiress,” Lu Mingfei whispered.
“Money breeds confidence,” Xia Mi replied, her smile unshaken.