Chapter 108: It Doesn

After Lu Mingfei “kidnapped” Shinsugi Eri from Genji Heavy Industries, it wasn’t quite kidnapping—Eri recognized him by his messy, bird’s-nest hair, which she’d messed up herself, and to encourage him to live, she gave him a small duck.

So Eri put on her usual shrine maiden robes, pulled Lu Mingfei out to play, otherwise known as running away from home.

This girl found even vending machines fascinating; Lu Mingfei’s first glance saw the spokesperson, Niiyama Yui, but Eri pointed to the orange juice endorsed by her.

Lu Mingfei inserted two coins, took out a drink—the orange juice was sold out, so he bought only two cans of hot coffee.

No aliens disturbed them, because dozens of meters below, a God of War blocked the monster spawn point; the aliens would need time to find a way out.

The red-haired girl watched the hazy night through the glass wall—the city seemed draped in a light veil, buildings and streets lit up, vehicles still moving on elevated roads even at this late hour.

This city was magnificent yet cold.

The silhouette on the glass wall was breathtakingly beautiful; Eri took the coffee from Lu Mingfei, opened the lid, and sipped the hot drink slowly, white steam drifting before her nose.

Lu Mingfei watched silently, his heart utterly calm—right now, hot coffee was the best thing in the world, warm in his hands, as if holding it meant holding the entire world.

Strictly speaking, this was his second time seeing Eri, yet strangely, Lu Mingfei felt no excitement, no thought of “finding the heroine and finally getting a girlfriend,” no other distractions—except his heart occasionally skipped a beat; he felt peaceful.

“Utsukushii.” Eri grabbed Lu Mingfei’s hand and wrote characters on his palm with her finger, then pointed to the golden “Tokyo Skytree” in the distance.

Compared to her original fate, Lu Mingfei had arrived a few days early; it wasn’t raining today, but it was still cold.

“That’s the Tokyo Skytree, the world’s tallest broadcast tower—you can go up. They say the view of Tokyo from the observation deck is the most beautiful.” Lu Mingfei recited what he knew—he’d never been there himself.

He looked at the girl beside him—most of her life had been spent locked behind twenty-centimeter-thick alloy gates, her days filled with games and anime, her most familiar faces doctors and nurses, and million-dollar medical devices: oxygen tanks, blood filtration units, cardiac resuscitators, high-pressure injection pumps, angiography X-ray machines, linear accelerators.

It wasn’t that Genji Oyama abused her—Eri’s bloodline was too potent, requiring serum to stabilize; if she lost control, her destructive power rivaled that of a nuclear weapon.

Yet even so, Genji Oyama did everything a brother should—he took Eri to top restaurants in his free time, played games with her, watched anime with her.

This girl didn’t even grasp gender distinctions; she didn’t realize how attractive she was to the opposite sex—in her eyes, men were probably just flat-chested versions of herself.

“Want to go see it?” Lu Mingfei said. “I can take you there.”

Eri’s eyes lit up instantly; she nodded like a chick pecking grain, looking at Lu Mingfei expectantly, then grew slightly disappointed.

She pulled out a small notebook, marked in marker: “Brother will catch us.”

Lu Mingfei smiled—he’d wanted to just throw away his phone, but thought better of it; it was still valuable, so he turned it off, ignoring Lu Mingze’s arrangements. Normally, at this moment, an elevator would appear, followed by a helicopter arriving on the roof to take them away.

Lu Mingfei pulled out a golden greatsword—this trick of conjuring objects from thin air made Eri think he was amazing.

Fortunately, influenced by the Immortal Sword, he’d been determined to learn sword-flight, spending a full day mastering it.

Lu Mingfei stepped onto the blade’s body and reached out his hand to Eri:

“Come on, Eri! Let’s go see the Skytree!”

The next day

“Eri has been gone for twenty hours!” Genji Oyama slowly clenched his fist. “We haven’t identified those people’s identities! Halt all operations! Mobilize every resource! Even if we uproot every building in Tokyo, I want Eri back!”

His subordinates watched the anxious Genji Oyama and thought: So this guy is a sister fanatic.

“Rest assured,” Yasha replied solemnly. “In this glittering Tokyo, Eri-san, innocent and alone with an unknown man, is in danger. I swear—if anyone dares harm Eri-san, I’ll twist his neck off myself.”

“I’m not worried about Eri’s safety,” Genji Oyama shook his head, speaking softly. “If Eri wanted to, twenty hours would be enough to destroy Tokyo.”

“Only a god could stop her then.”

Genji Oyama’s subordinates stiffened, as if hearing something unbelievable.

“It doesn’t matter—I’ll act.” Su Lin stood atop a high-rise kilometers away, watching through his extraordinary vision the man and woman boiling hotpot in the hotel, a maternal smile creeping onto his face.

“Never thought watching real-life CP could be this fun—I get the fandom now.”

“Lu Mingfei really knows how to enjoy himself—beef slices, enoki mushrooms, shiitake, radish, cabbage, green onions. Shame it’s not a spicy red oil pot.”

“Aren’t those my mountain’s spiritual fruits? When did he sneak two away? Next time, make him pay.”

Su Lin, feeling hungry, pulled out from his historical projection a table, a gas stove, a pot of spicy red oil hotpot, beef, tripe, beef tendon, meatballs.

Li Qing, a half-blood from the family, stood respectfully behind him, looking hesitant.

“But… is this really safe?”

“Relax,” Su Lin pulled out a projection of himself in a suit, instructing it to prepare dipping sauce and serve food. “Your Supreme said to minimize bloodshed—not just for enemies, but for your own side too. Don’t fight unless you have to.”

“I gave you tools to survive—use them wisely.”

“If you can’t win, retreat—I’ll step in. Guerrilla tactics, got it?” Su Lin sat down on a chair. “Join me?”

“No thanks,” Li Qing shook his head, visibly overwhelmed. “The front-line battle isn’t over—I’ll take my leave.”

He stepped into a teleportation portal.

As Su Lin was cooking, a pigeon fluttered down, landing on the opposite chair, then transformed into a scholarly-looking man.

“Man, the whole Earth’s in chaos, and you’re here eating hotpot?” Klein scanned the table. “Where’s mine?”

Su Lin pulled out a bowl, chopsticks, and dipping sauce from his historical projection.

“Another fake meal?!” Klein stared in disbelief. “At least eat something real.”

Still, he picked up a piece of tripe and dipped it into the pot.

“The war isn’t over—how could I truly indulge?” Su Lin said. “But you—if you were to lay down arms and surrender with courtesy—”

“Stop, stop!” Klein waved his hand. “You’re getting too into character!”

“Did you retrieve Lu Mingze’s true body?” Su Lin stared at the couple in the hotel across the way, now sipping red wine.

“I originally planned to ask Yao Lao and Zhongli,” Klein said. “But Lu Mingfei became the Damocles sword hanging over them—they’re now seeking cooperation themselves. Old Lu knows this.”

“Your blitzkrieg was too fast. Without Zhongli and Yao Lao, this world would’ve fallen into your hands in under a month.”

“I was hoping to wrap this up before New Year’s. Now it’s a mess—I might as well take a vacation and go home.” Su Lin murmured.

All this happened in secret. Leaving aside Japanese half-bloods, North American half-bloods, the Cassell Academy, the Secret Party, and countless other factions—all had been attacked to varying degrees recently, especially after the revival of the Bronze and Fire Dragon King Nodens, who conquered and occupied with terrifying speed.

Zhongli and Lao Tang clashed the night before, but Zhongli held back, and Lao Tang didn’t use his apocalyptic spell; they exchanged a few casual blows, then Lao Tang abandoned the occupation mission.

Su Lin was occasionally called to help, mostly healing the wounded and applying protective buffs.

“I should’ve acted myself, but I must continue gathering strength,” Old Lu said. Su Lin didn’t know what he was hiding.

Many resisting half-bloods had been imprisoned in the floating island’s dungeons.

“So you really plan to see this through with him,” Klein picked up the cooked tripe, dipped it in sauce.

“Not a bad thing,” Su Lin said. “Lu Mingfei will just have to eat more Liuwei Dihuang Pills—I can supply him unlimited amounts.”

“He won’t like it—not with the world like this.”

Now, aside from a few defected half-bloods, the Dragon-Slaying faction led by the Secret Party had begun cooperating with Lu Mingze, consolidating all resources and forces, preparing to march on Tokyo—this place would soon become a battlefield.

Klein naturally wouldn’t tell Su Lin this; though they were online friends, their allegiances had temporarily shifted.

“If Lu Mingfei becomes ruler, this world will collapse within ten years,” Klein glanced at Lu Mingfei across the way, now showing Eri anime on his tablet as they ate and scrolled. “I mean this Lu Mingfei.”

“To gain something, you must pay a price—that’s Old Lu’s words,” Su Lin didn’t care. “For the general public, the benefits likely outweigh the costs.”

“Actually, there’s no irreconcilable conflict between them.”

“It’s just that Old Lu’s throne is too heavy—he needs time for Lu Mingfei to accept it.” Su Lin turned to Klein. “What’s Xiao Yan doing lately?”

“Secret,” Klein smiled elegantly, picked up his hat, and wiped oil from his lips with a tissue.

Watching Klein’s magician’s exit—turning into a flock of white pigeons—Su Lin looked away, dismissed his historical projection, and left the rooftop.

“Make sure the cleanup is thorough.”