When Spider-Woman's Triangle Chuhua Meets Doctor Octopus Toyokawa Shoko

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Good things always pass too quickly. An unexpected incident ended the time that Deng and Xiangzi spent together.

That day, Deng and Xiangzi went to the cafeteria together to collect Deng's rations as usual after get off work.

Although Xiangzi also shared the work of lighting, this did not bring more quotas to the two of them.

For the supervisor, allowing this refugee from nowhere to join the area under his jurisdiction without reporting it to his superiors was already a great tolerance. After all, there had been cases in the past where refugees carrying infectious diseases had entered the lower city of Tokyo and caused great harm.

But this day was different. The skinny supervisor standing at the feeding port did not ignore Xiangzi as usual. Instead, his face was full of flattery and even showed a hint of panic.

Behind the supervisor were dozens of tall, black-clad bodyguards in neat suits.

"Hey, Miss." The supervisor smiled at Xiangzi ingratiatingly, hoping that the thundering wrath of the upper city would not come. "You've been playing in this shabby place of mine for so long, the master is a little worried."

"..." This was the first time Deng saw an angry expression on Xiangzi's face. "Grandfather asked you to come find me, so he should also know that as long as I don't want to, no one can make me go back."

"Miss, it's time to end playing house. If you don't want to go back with us, don't blame me for offending you." said a leading bodyguard.

The black-clad bodyguards began to surround Xiangzi and Deng. Some of them held handcuffs, obviously anticipating that Xiangzi would never surrender.

"Looking at you all, you're almost unarmed. Grandfather, do you think I've been able to stay in the lower town for so long just by luck?" Xiangzi held the lamp in front of him and began to show his attitude that was originally never understood by anyone.

Black and white mud gushed out from Xiangzi's skin, evil yet holy. The slime became more and more, and finally wrapped Xiangzi's whole body into an 8-foot-tall humanoid monster. There was no nose or ears on his face, only vicious eyes and a terrifying huge mouth.

Deng remembered very clearly that Xiangzi knocked down all the bodyguards without much effort, and the supervisor was so scared that he ran around everywhere, looking much more miserable than the slave laborers he had whipped in the past few years.

When everyone present lay down, Xiangzi picked up the lantern and ran with her, running very far.

They passed through a maze of complex pipes and avoided countless deadly beasts.

During this time, Xiangzi held the lamp tightly.

After running in the darkness for a long time, Xiangzi finally lifted a one-meter-wide round cover on his head, and the lamp saw light again.

Countless lights embellish this world that the lamp has never seen, scattered and connected. Perhaps even the Milky Way in books cannot compare to this beauty.

But in Xiangzi's eyes, this place was extremely gloomy, even more suffocating than the dull downtown.

Because that was not starlight, but the night lights of Tokyo City.

The boiling fuel is the blood of the people in the lower city.

……

Xiangzi planned to place Deng in the upper city because she knew that after what she had done, Deng might not be able to survive in the original factory.

And she would continue to go to the lower city. Only there could she feel that the guilt brought by her bloodline could be alleviated a little.

Deng, noticing Xiangzi's thoughts, said nothing but grabbed Xiangzi's clothes even tighter as they dodged the guards patrolling the upper town.

Xiangzi also noticed the movement of the lamp and could only smile helplessly.

When they reached a corner, Xiangzi held Deng's hand and summoned the "mud" from the back of his hand, letting it flow through Deng's hand, letting Deng feel the wet, slippery and cold touch: "This cannot be 'imitated'."

"?"

"It's called Innocence. It's my symbiont. We grew up together. Because we are a kind of life, it's impossible to simulate it by simply imitating the movements." Seeing the puzzled lamp, Xiangzi had to give further explanation.

When Deng learned this fact, he had no choice but to accept it, and then he felt uncontrollably lost.

"And even if you become tall and strong, it is impossible to knock down all those guards who almost all have super powers." Looking at Deng who lowered his eyes, Xiangzi hurriedly comforted him and pointed out the little thoughts in Deng's heart.

Deng hopes to do something for Xiangzi. If he can be as strong and agile as Xiangzi just now, he will surely be a help to her instead of a burden.

……

After hiding and moving forward for several hours, Xiangzi finally arrived at his destination with the lamp - a luxurious villa that was unimaginable in the lower city.

When Xiangzi knocked on the side door of the villa, the reddish-brown side door quietly opened a gap about the thickness of two arms. A pair of hands stretched out and pulled Xiangzi and the lamp directly into the door, and then quickly closed the heavy wooden door with a folding fan, leaving no gap.

She glanced around at the room's decor, which was equally luxurious to her, something she couldn't put into words.

The person who opened the door for them was a woman who seemed to be no more than twenty years old.

But that is the standard for people in the lower city. The woman is forty-two years old this year. She can't be called young, but she is well maintained.

"Xiangzi, are you back to the upper city?" The woman looked at Xiangzi with pity, as his appearance was no different from that of someone from the lower city.

Xiangzi's face was now covered in mud, and the clothes he had brought into the city had become old rags, barely covering his body. The blue ponytails he tied up were not black ropes with gold lace, but two cotton loops he had picked up from somewhere.

"Aunt Ichinose, could you please take care of this girl?" Xiangzi briefly told the woman about Deng's current situation, and hoped that she could adopt Deng, who had nowhere to go.

"This is not a difficult matter. The problem is you. The president is becoming increasingly dissatisfied with your disappearance." The woman named Ichinose looked at Xiangzi worriedly.

Xiangzi was silent for a moment, then gently grasped the hand that had been tugging at her clothes. She said with determination, "I won't stay in the upper city. I'll stay down there until my father succeeds, so he can concentrate on preparing to fight my grandfather."

"..." Ichinose originally wanted to use the excuse that Xiangzi's father missed her as well as he did as a reason for persuasion, but seeing Xiangzi's sincerity, she could only change her approach. "My daughter will be back from school tomorrow. She has always wanted to meet you. Can you meet her before you leave? Staying for a day will also allow you to pack up and be ready for the journey."

"Okay. Thank you very much." Faced with such an invitation, Xiangzi, who had received so much help from the other party, really couldn't refuse.

The Ichinose family has been executives of the Toyokawa Group for generations, and Shoko has known Ms. Ichinose Biru since she was a child. She knew that she was very sympathetic to the plight of the people in the lower city, and she also knew that she was very dissatisfied with the actions of the Toyokawa Group, so when she ran away from home, she found her and asked for help.

If the other person takes care of it, Deng will probably be able to escape from the dark life he had before.

Deng did nothing wrong, and she didn't need to continue to suffer like that.

But I am different...

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Xiangzi did nothing wrong.

Until now, Deng still thinks so.

Even later, when the heroic group crychic consisting of four of them disbanded because of Xiangzi's withdrawal after a robbery of the Toyokawa Group's food bank, Deng still believed so.

The main reason why Deng agreed to Lixi and Soyo's plan to sneak into Tokyo and kidnap Xiangzi was that she really wanted to see Xiangzi again.

The last time the two met was eight years ago.

At that time, the three of them had just killed several granary guards and were preparing to transport the grain to the lower town to distribute it to the people as they had done many times when Xiangzi appeared again.

"These assets already belong to me, and you have no right to take them away."

This was the first sentence Xiangzi said when they said goodbye.

Afterwards, Xiangzi said to them, "Tokyo is under my rule", "If you want, you can also work for the Mujica Group", "Tokyo does not allow the existence of armed groups outside the group" and so on.

The light said nothing.

Because when she wanted to say something, Lixi and Soyo had already rushed out in anger and killed her.

Deng could only follow the two and leave Tokyo.

After leaving Tokyo, Lixi and Soyo have always been resentful of Xiangzi's betrayal, but Deng knows that Xiangzi must have some difficulties.

Maybe I just didn't do well enough and held Xiangzi back.

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It was late at night. Deng had already agreed to meet with Soyo tonight to exchange the information he had obtained in the past few days.

The red numerals on the quartz clock on my wrist danced in the darkness: 23:17 PM. The wardrobe hinges creaked softly, and the dormant gear awoke in the moonlight. My fingers brushed against the custom-made fabric of the hanger, the cool touch making the hairs on my wrist stand on end.

This body remembered every procedure - first pull out the carbon fiber shin guards and buckle them onto the knees. The hidden buckles made seventeen crisp clicks when they engaged, corresponding to the protection of the seventeen vital joints of the human body.

The uniform stretched across his skin, its nanofibers shrinking and fitting like a second layer of nerves. A familiar stinging ache clung to his left ribcage, an old wound from last year in South America, now compressed into an invisible medallion by the fabric.

The belt buckle hung heavily around his waist, and twelve miniature darts were arranged in the magnetic groove to form a clock scale. The sharp blade tempered with strychnine emitted a dark blue light of death.

In the small dormitory, the mirrored wardrobe beside the door reflects the figure who is assembling the weapon system.

He reached into the secret compartment with three fingers of his right hand and pulled out the tungsten steel dagger. The sound-absorbing fleece inside the scabbard completely absorbed the friction sound.

An electromagnetic hook launcher is put on his left arm, and the humming sound of the winding coil resonates with the second hand of the watch.

When the night vision goggles are stuck into the depression of the brow bone, the dancing green grid on the retina cuts the field of vision into countless geometric traps.

His breath formed a white mist in the gas mask, and three silicone masks lay deep in the drawer at hand.

Tonight's choice was the face of a middle-aged man with prominent cheekbones, and the biological adhesive oozing from the edges had a fishy smell.

When the tactical hood was pulled down, the chip on the back of the neck began to release adrenaline, and the current rushing through the blood vessels caused the pupils to contract into the vertical lines of a cat.

The shoddy carpet in the entryway rolled up into three wrinkles, revealing a weapons case embedded in the marble floor.

His thumb pressed against the iris lock, the nitrogen inside the box hissing and escaping, and the two matte pistols lay in a condensed mist of frost. The reloading action had been repeated a hundred thousand times, and the sound of the brass shell sliding into the magazine was more regular than a heartbeat.

Finally, he checked the signal jammer on the right heel and the energy simulator on the left thigh. The green indicator lights turned stable after the third flash.

In front of the small window next to the stove, the palm of a man wearing tactical gloves touched the glass, and five sensor lines lit up at the same time.

The surveillance footage of the entire apartment building popped up in the corner of the eyepiece, with seventeen red dots flickering regularly in sleep mode.

The door lock knob stopped after turning a quarter of a turn. The night wind seeped in through the crack in the door, bringing the hissing of crows at the end of the street.

The white figure blended into the shadows of the fire escape, the special rubber soles of the boots muffling all the sound of footsteps.

The moonlight flowed on the glass curtain wall of the building opposite, and was suddenly interrupted by a passing shadow, like a sharp blade cutting through silver silk.

When the skull helmet was put on her face, the girl named Takamatsu Deng had disappeared.

Under the starry night sky, there is only one Mercenary King.

Imitate the master, come and join me.

(ps: First of all, I have to thank everyone for their support. Although I've only been updating for over a week, I think I'm going to sign a contractヾ(??▽?)ノ, (actually, I haven't officially signed yet, I just submitted the contract for review (ノ?▽｀)ノ?), this is my first time serializing a novel, so there will be many immature parts. I hope readers can be more tolerant and point out any mistakes so I can correct them (｀?ω??)ゞ, and then, it's time to ask for monthly votes and rewards /(//o/ω/o//)/, I have to take the train from 12 PM tonight and it will end at PM tomorrow, so tomorrow's update may be a little late, I hope you don't blame me (o_ _)o, but it may also be early, after all, inspiration might flow on the train (*/ω＼*), anyway, I still want to thank everyone again for your company over the past week, I will do my best to finish this novel (｀?ω??))

Volume 11: The Book of Fears: . Past

As the ends of his flaxen hair brushed the metal countertop, Soyo's knuckles were tightening the fourth buckle of his tactical belt.

The bulletproof fibers grow downward from the collarbone, and the matte black fabric splits into jagged joints at the spine, meshing automatically like some living organism.

The one-piece latex suit covering the whole body outlines the hot and charming perfect curves.

She tilted her head towards the dressing mirror. The micro-communicator implanted subcutaneously behind her ear glowed with a faint blue light, and a tingling sensation like a spider crawling across the back of her neck.

As the left wrist turned, the metal joints of the widow's sting bit into the skin, and the buzzing sound of the electric shock device storing energy made the air slightly hot.

The hydraulic device of the tactical boots adjusts the pressure according to the curvature of the arch of the foot. The single-molecule blade hidden in the heel pops out half an inch and then retracts, leaving a crescent-shaped mark on the tile.

His right hand stroked the magazine belt at his waist. Twelve micro-pulse bombs were arranged into a deadly necklace, and the touch was colder than the Siberian snow.

Suddenly, a shadow flashed across the mirror—she swung the micro-grappling hook launcher onto her forearm so fast that it tore through the light and shadow.