Chapter 107: Great Power Is Excellent Because of Her

Yang Yi's heart skipped a beat; she knew he had discovered the abnormality in her body. He must have noticed something was wrong when he saved her—her recovery speed was far too fast.

Yet she was still grateful to him. He had not abandoned her, had arranged for a doctor, and had waited until her wounds healed before sending her away. Such kindness was enough.

Yang Yi stopped Miranda, who was about to speak on her behalf, and said with a smile, "Thank you for taking me in these past few days. I am truly grateful, but now I really must leave."

She looked sincerely at Miranda. "I like the name Fresa. Thank you, Miranda." She gave the old woman an awkward hug, feeling a bit of bitterness in her heart.

The perfume Miranda wore was a faint scent of orchid. The warm fragrance drifted from her collar into Yang Yi's nose, and for a moment it felt strangely familiar—yet she knew it was merely an illusion.

If my mother were her, how happy I would be... A thought rose in her mind like fleeting light, and then she laughed at herself for such an absurd notion.

"Miranda, I will miss you," she said.

She smiled, turned, and walked out of the small country garden, just as lonely as when she had arrived.

"Fresa, wait!" Miranda called after her figure. Her gaze toward Thomas shifted instantly from kind to stern. "Mr. Thomas!"

"We cannot keep her. Her origins are a mystery, and she carries many secrets..." Thomas offered a rare explanation.

"I know. I am not senile," Miranda said. "But this Miss is not a bad person. I can tell."

Thomas shrugged, noncommittal.

"In any case, you cannot let a young, unmarried Miss walk out like this. She doesn't even have a single penny! Where is your gentlemanly bearing? Thomas!" Miranda said sternly.

Thomas raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Damn gentlemanly bearing! I will give her money and take her to a safe place. Wherever she wants to go, I will take her!" He stormed into the house, and Timms hurriedly followed in his wake, tail between his legs.

Yang Yi could neither leave nor stand still, hesitating and uneasy.

Before she arrived, the two of them should have been in perfect harmony; in her view, they were almost like a kind mother and a rebellious son. Now, they were actually quarreling over her, and she felt deeply guilty.

Miranda took her hand. "Let Thomas take you. Do you have somewhere to go?"

Yang Yi quickly replied, "Yes, yes. Thank you, Miranda. Please do not let me..."

Thomas emerged with a sour face. "Let's go!" He cut her off, holding car keys and a wallet as he walked toward the garage.

Yang Yi had no choice but to get in the car and sit in the back seat. In the rearview mirror, the old woman's figure grew smaller and gradually blurred.

Only when she could no longer see her did she turn around, discovering that Thomas had been silently watching her through the rearview mirror the whole time.

"So—where are you going?" Thomas withdrew his gaze and asked in a flat tone.

Yang Yi opened her mouth, then fell silent for a moment.

She knew nothing about this place, and she had no identity now. Going to the city would only make her more conspicuous. The best outcome would be being treated as an illegal immigrant; the worst would be being captured by some underground organization for human experimentation... Moreover, she quite liked this countryside: few people, beautiful surroundings.

Most importantly, the fragment of the Evil God within her constantly threatened her existence. If this were her final time alive, she only wanted to be alone in quiet, facing death in solitude.

Thomas's gaze, slightly mocking, fixed on her through the rearview mirror. He did not urge her.

It seemed that losing her great power had given her some inspiration. Suddenly, a thought emerged silently: Now, at least, I can prove my fearlessness!

She hated her own cowardice most of all. If, when her telekinetic power was nearly nonexistent, she could still be braver than when she possessed great power, would that not prove she was not cowardly?

She wanted to prove to herself—she was not excellent because of great power, but great power was excellent because of her!

As soon as this arrogant thought arose, even she was startled.

Yet, like a tiny spark that can start a prairie fire, once this spark emerged, it could not be stopped. A surge of arrogant passion urged her to act immediately: no looking back, no hesitation, no reflection, no reconsideration, not even doubt!

Go kill that black panther! The black panther that had nearly killed her.

An ordinary Earth creature, not an alien being, with no superpowers, only sharp claws and teeth and an agile body—more importantly, it had offended her when she had lost her superpowers and given her a setback. She must personally reclaim her dignity!

This thought attracted her like a riddle. She even found several reasons why she must do this:

First, she no longer possessed powerful telekinesis; she belonged entirely to herself. Yes, before, she never believed that great power belonged to her, but to... a responsibility, an obligation, a mission, some metaphysical thing existing for all humanity. She had merely been temporarily entrusted with it, used it, and could not abuse it, like a position. She had just been forced into that seat by circumstances beyond her control.

If she still had that ability, she would dare not risk her own life, because then, even her life would not belong solely to herself but would implicate many others. Now, she belonged entirely to herself. She had stepped down from that position. She was free.

If she died beneath the black panther's claws, it would only be a loss for her alone, not causing loss to more people.

Second, she must prove herself. Prove she possesses courage—the courage of an ordinary person who, knowing there is a tiger in the mountain, still heads toward the tiger's lair. Prove she is not a coward! Before, facing danger, even if fear filled her heart, the great power within her always gave her confidence.

But now, she had no confidence. She was just an ordinary person, at most one whose wounds healed faster. Was this not a great opportunity to prove her courage? Was courage not knowing one might lose yet still pressing forward without hesitation?

Third... She racked her brains to find reasons for her irrational impulse, but could find none. But it did not matter; these two reasons were enough.

She grew excited, suddenly feeling that this idea was not some inexplicable impulse but rather the result of careful consideration.

Suddenly, amidst this surge of impulse, a tiny bubble quietly rose from a corner: When she had great power, she was timid and dared not easily abuse it; but when she lost great power, she became arrogant instead, presumptuously trying to prove that great power was powerful because of her. How ridiculous!

But then, that tiny bubble quickly dissipated.

"Just drop me off near the forest," she said, her tone carrying a strange joy.

Thomas was somewhat surprised, then seemed to think of something. He sneered, asked no questions, and simply turned the steering wheel to drive toward the forest.

Near the forest edge, where the bushes were dense, the car could go no further.

"Mr. Thomas, thank you again for your help. Goodbye!"

Supported by a surge of excitement within her, Yang Yi thanked Thomas, got straight out of the car, and walked directly toward the dense forest.

"I say, Miss!" A head with brown curly hair poked out the window. Thomas emphasized again, "You really have nothing else to say?"

Yang Yi turned around, hesitated for a moment, and, looking utterly bewildered, praised him in a questioning tone, "You are truly a good man!?"

Thomas felt as uncomfortable as if he had swallowed a fly. He waved his hand. "Go, go. Good luck, Miss!"

Thus, Yang Yi walked briskly into the forest, as if summoned by something.

In the deep green, shadowy shade of the distant woods, the figure in the white knitted sweater gradually blurred. Thomas had been watching coldly, but finally could not help shouting, "Do not forget, there are black panthers inside! And other wild animals!"

The slender figure waved from afar, and the last bit of white disappeared.

Thomas frowned, showing a hint of worry, then sneered again, muttering, "Just a ploy of self-harm!"

Though he said this, he did not immediately start the car and leave. Instead, he turned on the car stereo. Beethoven's "Pathétique" began to play, and the stirring music flowed through the car.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, half-closing his eyes, glancing occasionally at the forest, waiting for that figure to finally succumb to fear and turn back.