Chapter 2: No One Was Harmed

Dusk was approaching; slanting sunlight spread from the city's edge, spilling golden-hued rays between the towering buildings—but deep within the old district, surrounded by skyscrapers where light barely reached, the alleys had already sunk into shadow.

The lingering dampness and faint chill in the air clashed with the dry atmosphere outside the alley, and the ice shards rapidly melting in the cracks between bricks and stones served as evidence that something unusual had occurred in this quiet street.

Several swift black shadows darted through the gaps between buildings, leaping down as if weightless, landing in a corner of the alley; their edges trembled, quickly solidifying into wolf-like forms. These blurred-faced shadows prowled and sniffed around the alley, then slowly converged. The lead shadow lifted its head and let out a loud howl:

"Aoww…"

"Bang!"

A stone struck the wolf-shadow's head, crushing its half-formed howl back into silence, followed by a sharp command from the shadows of the buildings: "Shut up! No howling in the city—even adding 'woof' won't work! Humans aren't idiots; no one believes you're dogs!"

The phantom wolves instantly emitted low whimpers and obediently stepped aside. A slightly petite figure emerged from nearby.

She was a short-haired girl in a black skirt and dark red coat, a strand of hair slightly curled upward—no more than sixteen or seventeen, yet her expression was unnervingly calm and mature. She stepped out of the shadows, walked straight through the bowed wolves, and saw the male corpse lying beside the road.

A faint shadow flickered across her face. She crouched beside the corpse to examine it, while one wolf approached, conveying information in a low, muddled growl.

"... Rain-scented air?" The girl frowned, looking up at the sky, which had been clear for the past two days. Though dusk was near, the sliver of sky visible between the skyscrapers remained clean and bright, devoid of clouds—only the sunlight was fading.

After a moment, she seemed to understand. She leaned down again to inspect the horrific wound on the man's body and muttered softly: "... Rain, heart, the stench of frogs…"

At that moment, a sudden phone ring from her waist pouch interrupted her muttering—the ringtone was the opening theme of the 1986 version of Journey to the West.

The short-haired girl answered the call just as the monkey flipped his fourth somersault.

"Hello? Oh, yeah, it's me," she pressed the phone to her ear, waving one hand around to signal the wolves to guard the scene, then stood and stepped aside. "I'm here. My wolves sensed something odd—didn't catch it. Missed."

As she spoke, she sighed, her gaze falling on the unfortunate corpse.

"It was 'Rain.' A physical 'Rain Frog' formed, but this rain was only a localized projection—affected only one person... Yes, terribly unlucky. Rain that fell for just one person. I arrived after it stopped. The depth here has returned to L10. The 'Rain' has already detached from the Borderland."

She fell silent. A voice from the phone's receiver seemed to be giving instructions and asking questions. She listened patiently for a while, then glanced again at the corpse nearby.

"... Medical personnel? Send someone to collect the body. No ordinary person survives a direct encounter with a Rain Frog—heart's gone... Tch. I'll stay here. Don't forget to bill extra for overtime."

A middle-aged superior's rambling voice came through the phone, but the girl had lost patience. She gave vague replies and hung up.

She sighed again, walked back, waved over a wolf standing nearby, and ordered it to lie down. She sat directly on its back, propped her chin on her hands, and stared at Yu Sheng's corpse.

"Poor guy. Wonder if he had family. Dying alone here... Sigh. I'll keep you company for a bit... Was it cold, dying in the Rain? Too bad I'm not the matchstick girl—I could've warmed you up a little before you went."

The girl murmured softly, waiting patiently for the cleanup crew. Soon, she heard the rumble of an engine from the intersection dozens of meters away—the sound was earth-shaking, as if a heavy armored vehicle had dragged a shipping container behind it, burning firewood, racing over ten consecutive speed bumps. Even the wolf beneath her shifted, nearly leaping up—but couldn't move with her sitting on it.

She turned toward the sound and saw a large van sputtering and creaking as it rolled into view. Crossing the speed bumps, it shuddered like the Soviet Union in 1991.

The girl rose slowly from the wolf's back, expressionless, watching the van cross the bumps, shut off its engine, then saw several burly men in black tactical gear, fully equipped with high-tech armor, weapons gleaming from teeth to heels, push the van from behind...

Another man, mid-forties, wearing a brown coat, dark-skinned and muscular, stepped down from the van, followed by a young woman in a white dress with shoulder-length brown hair. They glanced back at the exhausted team pushing the van, then turned and walked toward her.

As they drew near, the short-haired girl couldn't help muttering: "Seriously, can't your Team Two just apply to the higher-ups for a new vehicle? The Special Ops Bureau can't be this broke... I bet any one of your guys' gear could buy a new car."

"Shh!" The muscular man quickly waved his hand, lowered his voice, and glanced back at the silent van and his sweating subordinates. "Don't say that... You don't understand. Our Bureau's situation is special. This vehicle's just having a bad day today—replacing it is absolutely out of the question..." "Big organizations always have so many headaches," the girl snorted, clearly uninterested in the topic, then turned to the petite woman in white: "Good afternoon, Dr. Lin. Long time no see."

"It's evening now, 'Little Red Riding Hood,'" replied the woman in white, smiling faintly. Her lips were thin, giving her an air of restraint. "How's your injury?"

"Mostly healed," said the girl called Little Red Riding Hood, flexing her right wrist. "You know—wolves recover pretty fast..."

"Human recovery is the strongest—people just hate getting hurt," Dr. Lin corrected her seriously.

"... Oh," the girl murmured noncommittally, shifting focus to the corpse. "Victim: male, mid-twenties. Heart removed by a Rain Frog. Time of death: roughly two hours ago. Haven't searched him yet—don't know if he had ID... Yes, preserving the scene."

As she spoke, she glanced curiously at Dr. Lin: "You came all the way here... You planning to treat this? Can you even fix this?"

"No, I'm not a god," Dr. Lin shook her head, bending over Yu Sheng's body. "Just came because it's near my home..."

She examined the corpse briefly, confirmed the wound, checked the victim's belongings, and found his ID card.

"The deceased is named 'Yu Sheng,' age twenty-four. Registered address: 66 Wutong Road, Old District," she said, comparing the photo on the thin card to the corpse's face. "Captain Song, use the Bureau's equipment later to try contacting his family."

The muscular man beside her grunted, leaning in to glance at the ID card in Dr. Lin's hand, then frowned: "Why's the photo so blurry?"

!.

"Little Red Riding Hood" also leaned in curiously, staring at the ID card found on the corpse.

The photo's face appeared smeared with a layer of gray-black grime—entirely obscured, no details visible.

Dr. Lin rubbed the grime with her fingers—it wouldn't come off. The stains were tougher than expected, nearly covering the whole card.

"Can't even read the name," Little Red Riding Hood muttered. "Can't make out the ID number either. You'll have to take it back and read the chip with machines..."

Captain Song sighed helplessly, nodded, and looked at the remains on the ground. "Pity. If we'd found the victim's ID, we'd have had a lead... Now there's too little to go on."

Dr. Lin nodded sadly, staring at the bloodstains on the ground, nearly washed away by rain: "... Even the body's left nothing behind. Hard to reconstruct what happened."

Little Red Riding Hood listened to their exchange, seemingly lost in thought. Then suddenly she looked up at the woman in white: "Dr. Lin. Good evening."

"Good evening, Little Red Riding Hood," Dr. Lin smiled, greeting her. "How was patrol?"

Little Red Riding Hood glanced around, stroking the head of the nearest wolf: "'Rain' fell here. A physical 'Rain Frog' may have formed—but no victim appeared."

Dr. Lin visibly relaxed. "That's good."

The engine roared from nearby. The battered van sputtered to life, then settled into a steadier hum. The armed agents, panting, circled around from behind the vehicle. The lead one approached: "Captain Song, the van's running. We're—"

Captain Song nodded, walking toward his team.

"Alright, let's head back. Oh, don't forget to bring Dr. Lin."

(End of Chapter)