Ever since Steelbull City's Seventh District was suffocated by the Dead Bull, the military folks have been quietly but tirelessly working overtime to repair the bridge to the Sixth District. After all that rush work, it's finally open to small convoys. A squad of army trucks roared across, their tires thundering over the still-creaking bridge, rolling into the Seventh District. The convoy stopped deep inside the military zone. Jill Young and Night Doll got out of separate trucks, striding into a squat building under the watchful, battle-ready eyes of the soldiers all around.
Inside the building, the group stepped into a specially designed elevator. Cameras in all four corners kept a close eye on Jill Young. At the same time, the alloy walls could pop out a dozen auto-guns at any moment, ready to turn the elevator's occupants into ground beef. The elevator descended steadily, and soon enough, they reached their destination. The doors slid open, revealing a corridor made entirely of metal—a real sci-fi vibe.
The soldiers led Jill Young to a massive door. With a hiss, it slid open—a side view showed the alloy was a full foot thick. "Put these on," barked the soldiers, handing over a whole set of wrist guards, elbow pads, knee pads, and a vest. Jill Young grumbled but put them on one by one. All the pieces were metal, but for her, they weren’t much of a burden. But as soon as she suited up, the gear lit up with blue lights—then, suddenly, a powerful and complex magnetic field buzzed to life.
There were pulls and pushes, the directions changing constantly, and the force was wild. Honestly, anyone below Dragon Elephant Level Three would be at the mercy of gravity, flailing around like a possessed puppet. Even a Level Four would burn out quick, struggling against the ever-shifting strength and direction. The soldiers seemed pretty confident in this special gear—once Jill Young was locked up, they took off her handcuffs and left.
Buzz—the gate slammed shut, leaving Jill Young trapped in a thirty-square-meter bare room. No sound, no light, just pure silence and claustrophobia. Still, Jill Young could sense the hidden infrared cameras, watching her every move. She tapped the wall, listening to the vibrations echo and return—yep, the walls were packed with auto-guns too. Clearly, these folks weren’t taking any chances with her.
Time ticked by, second after second. There was nothing in the cell to mark the hours, but Jill Young’s mysterious perception from Prajna Technique Level Four kept her sense of time sharp. Midnight—fifteen hours after she was locked up—a visitor finally arrived. With a hiss, the gate opened, blinding white light flooded the cell, and in walked a familiar figure.
It was none other than Night Doll.
She was completely free, showing no signs of being coerced. At the door, a squad of soldiers guarded her like loyal hounds watching over their master.
Everything was crystal clear now.
Jill Young fixed her gaze on Night Doll and asked coldly, "Was it you who sold me out?"
Night Doll admitted it without hesitation: "Yes."
Lightning seemed to flash in Jill Young’s eyes as she demanded, "Why did you do it? Why betray my trust?"
Night Doll’s answer was just as simple: "For the greater good."
"The greater good?! Ha! Good, good for you!" Jill Young let out three wild laughs, then glared at Elsie Nightwater, her face twisted with a hint of hysteria. "For your so-called greater good, you’d sell me out, betray every bit of friendship we had?!"
"Yes." Elsie Nightwater spoke as if reciting the laws of the universe, perfectly calm: "I’m the descendant of Victor Nightfall."
Jill Young panted, shutting her eyes, as if forcing herself to hold back her emotions. "So why are you here now?"
"To persuade you to surrender."
No sooner had Elsie Nightwater finished speaking than Jill Young exploded, launching herself forward. Her eyes burned red—she couldn’t take it anymore. She poured all her rage from betrayal into her fist and smashed it toward Elsie Nightwater’s face. Bam! Elsie flew back, but didn’t go far—the gear Jill was wearing sucked up most of her strength.
"Young Mistress!" The soldiers rushed forward, glaring fiercely at Jill Young, guns raised.
But Night Doll waved a hand. "No need." She got up as if she’d never been punched. Staring at Jill Young, who was still breathing hard and glaring, Night Doll’s face didn’t show a flicker of emotion. "It’s exactly because of our friendship that I came to persuade you to surrender. It’s your best option."
"Surrender? Surrender to who? To you?" Jill Young spat in disdain. "No offense, but you’re just not cut out for this. You want to tame me? Maybe in a million years!"
Elsie Nightwater didn’t get mad at Jill Young’s mockery. "True, I don’t have what it takes to rally the talented, but someone does. I’ll leave now—when you’ve cooled off, I’ll come back." With that, she turned and walked out. The gate hissed shut. No sooner had it closed than there was a loud thud—someone had kicked the door hard. Jill Young’s angry roar echoed through the metal: "Get lost! Next time I see you, I’ll knock your teeth out!"
Five in the morning—twenty hours into Jill Young’s confinement—the door opened again. But this time, it wasn’t Night Doll. In walked a strange figure, pieced together from all sorts of odds and ends. The stitching was so over-the-top, it was like he wanted to show off his mad scientist scars. Some places, he hadn’t even bothered to remove the stitches.
The moment Jill Young saw this stitched-up freak, she was on high alert. She knew this guy was bad news. Forget his fighting skills—the aura around him screamed he’d killed countless people and lost his humanity long ago.
The man spoke, and his voice sounded like it came from a chorus of men, women, old, and young all at once—unforgettable. "Finally, we meet, Jill Young. It’s our first time face-to-face, but I bet you already know who I am. Yep, I’m the one they call the 'Ghost Player.'"
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Jill Young snorted at the madman before her. "You here to persuade me to surrender too? My answer: turn around and march out."
"No, no, I’m not here to talk surrender—and that Nightwater girl won’t be coming back either. I stopped her, because I know it’s pointless. I’m just here for a bit of scientific chit-chat." He pointed at the gear Jill was wearing. "You know, I invented those. As a woman, you’re strong—physically and mentally. My best test subject collapsed after ten hours with that gear on."
"But look at you—starved, in the dark, alone, wearing my gear—and after twenty hours, you’re still sitting upright! Sure, you’re sweating, your breathing’s a bit off, but compared to the others, you’re on a whole different level. As a fighter, you’re the best I’ve ever seen." Ghost Player said with admiration. "And you even managed to purify a completely clean sample. As a scientist, that’s impressive." He actually started clapping.
After applauding, he leaned in close to Jill Young’s face and asked slowly, "Can you tell me how you managed to purify the Original Liquid?"
Jill Young couldn’t even be bothered to respond.
"Ha, my bad. For a proper scientific exchange, you’ve got to offer up a secret first. So, here’s one for you." Ghost Player glanced around theatrically, raised a finger, and whispered, "Do you know where the so-called Original Liquid comes from? Sure, I know your people got their hands on my early research notes, but I’m not talking about mutant bees. I’m talking about the Original Liquid—it all comes from a century of chaos in Steelbull City."
He plopped down on the floor, clearly in the mood to chat. "See, I’m a scientist, chasing immortality. But to do research, you need a lab, so someone built me the biggest one—Steelbull Underground City. At first, I was stumped for test subjects—humans are too basic, not much inspiration there. But guess what? Steelbull City is a goldmine. Ever seen the morning garbage trucks? They haul the corpses out of Night City and dump them in the suburbs. Some get buried, some are just left to rot."
"Think about it—a city of tens of millions, fighting nonstop, day and night, for a hundred years. How many bodies does that add up to? Countless! Add rampant drug trafficking, nuclear power with zero waste management—how much pollution in a century? Countless! All those corpses and pollution gave me the best conditions and the richest supply of research material—mutant creatures. Just like nectar comes from flowers, the Original Liquid ultimately comes from those dead bodies." Ghost Player clapped. "Okay, my secret’s out. Your turn."
Jill Young sized up Ghost Player and said in a low voice, "I used to think you were the mastermind behind all the conspiracies, but now it seems you’re not."
"Oh, come on, don’t bring up boring stuff like that." Ghost Player patted his chest. "I’m a scientist. I just want to run my experiments—I don’t have time for conspiracies."
"Then why did you unleash zombies and mutants in the Eighth District?"
"Experiment’s done, so the lab doesn’t need to stick around. Someone ordered it, and I thought it sounded fun, so I did it." Ghost Player urged, "Alright, alright, your turn—spill a scientific secret!"
"Fine, here’s all I’ll say to you…" Jill Young stared deep into Ghost Player’s eyes, enunciating each word: "Your dancing—SUCKS!"
That line seemed to really get under Ghost Player’s skin. He shot to his feet, breathing hard, and looked like he wanted to kick Jill Young. But after locking eyes with her, he chickened out.
Damn it, that crazy woman should’ve been wiped out by the magnetic rings by now, so why did she still give off that terrifying vibe—like if he kicked her, he’d drop dead on the spot? Ghost Player fumed, "Your purified liquid isn’t even that important! I’ve already extracted a 99% pure potion, enough to build a truly mighty body! If it weren’t for..." He cut himself off, then turned and left.
The gate slammed shut again, plunging everything back into darkness. No one saw Jill Young sneer and mutter, "Guess he chickened out after all." She flipped her right hand and produced a cup. The liquid inside looked like plain water, but it was actually purified Original Liquid. "Knowing this stuff comes from corpses kinda kills my appetite." She stared at it, weirded out, but finally made up her mind.
Everything in the world is connected—a cycle of matter. In ancient times, wolves ate people, people ate wolves, nothing strange about it. Mutant creatures devour corpses, then mutant bees eat them and brew Original Liquid, which gets refined into Purified Liquid. It’s all just the food chain. If you can’t handle that, you might as well quit eating veggies and fruit, because plants soak up nutrients from decomposing fungi too.
"Bottoms up!" Jill Young pinched her nose and gulped down the Purified Liquid. Life energy flooded her body, restoring all the strength she’d spent. Then she started stretching. Sure, the magnetic rings had drained her, but they were also perfect for training. With the ever-shifting magnetic field, she didn’t need big moves to get a high-intensity workout. It was the ideal way to absorb life energy and build a solid foundation.
Basically, for those twenty hours, except for meeting Elsie Nightwater and Ghost Player, Jill Young was training—and the results were impressive. As for the energy spent? With her micro-sensing ability, this stuff was nowhere near enough to stump her.
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"It’s close." Jill Young gazed into the void, as if seeing through all the walls, staring at some distant spot. "Let me see, after all this, who’s really pulling the strings."
At the same time, in another room of the underground base, Elsie Nightwater was reading late into the night. Suddenly, someone appeared behind her and spoke out of nowhere: "Still reading your ancestor’s notes? You look pretty focused."
Elsie Nightwater wasn’t fazed at all. She just gave a flat "Mm," as an answer.
"But his notes are definitely worth a close read. He was almost a god—just missed it by a hair. A guy like that, you can’t worship him enough."
This time, Elsie Nightwater didn’t even bother with a "Mm."
"Ha, alright, guess I’m just rambling now." The person continued, "Lady of the Night, it’s almost time. Steelbull City’s grand drama is at its peak. The people are at their breaking point—push any further and it might backfire. All the elements are in place. Take a break and get ready for the ceremony. Soon, you’ll be crowned as Steelbull City’s ruler, maybe even the world’s. As the heir to the Overlord’s bloodline, this is your duty."
Elsie Nightwater snapped her notebook shut, making some kind of decision. Her gaze was steady as she nodded, "Right. As the descendant of my ancestor, I have to take on this duty."
Seeing Elsie’s reaction, the person smiled silently, then slipped back into the shadows like a snake retreating into the grass.
Twenty-seven hours into Jill Young’s confinement—high noon—the gate opened for the third time.
This time, the soldiers escorted Jill Young out of her cell and deeper into the base. They stopped at a grand, ornate door, not daring to take another step. As Jill Young approached, the door swung open automatically. Light poured out, and Jill strode boldly inside.
Inside was a circular hall, with concentric rings leading to a central altar. Elsie Nightwater stood on the altar, dressed in the most regal attire. Besides her, there was Ghost Player and someone hiding behind a pillar. Jill couldn’t see him, but her sharp hearing picked up his presence—whoever he was, she had no clue.
"As one of Steelbull City’s lords, one of the Eight Elements, and my chosen guest of honor, Jill Young, you’re allowed to enter this sacred hall. You’ll bear witness to the greatest moment in world history." A voice Jill had never heard boomed from every corner, echoing through the golden hall: "Hold your breath! Steelbull City is about to welcome its ruler!"
As the words faded, Elsie Nightwater seemed to receive a signal. She produced a crown-like headband, shimmering with rainbow light. Holding it high, she slowly placed it on her head. At the last moment, Jill caught her glance—a look that reminded her of Supreme Treasure donning the tightening headband. It was the look of someone walking a doomed path, knowing there’s no turning back.
The next second, the headband sat firmly on Elsie’s head. The rainbow lights flared brighter, and she began to tremble. A strange noise filled the hall, as if a thousand versions of the same person were all speaking at once. If you ignored it, it was fine, but focus too hard and it made your head spin. The bizarre sound formed a resonance, almost like a church choir.
Jill Young noticed Ghost Player and the guy behind the pillar were both tense, breathing quick. Forget the hidden guy—Ghost Player was a certified lunatic. Lunatics can rage, roar, and freak out—that’s their normal. But for something to make a maniac this nervous? That’s rare.
A moment later, the strange sounds faded and Elsie stopped trembling. When she opened her eyes again, her behavior was odd. She glanced around, flexed her fingers like someone getting up after years in bed, then cracked a smile that grew into a chuckle, then a full-blown cackle.
Jill Young swore, this was absolutely not how Elsie Nightwater should act.
"Hahahahahaha!" Endless laughter echoed through the hall, bursting with indescribable joy. "It worked! It really worked! The Rebirth Ceremony succeeded!"
The woman—no longer quite Elsie Nightwater—clenched her fist and roared: "All units, listen up: Heart of the World—ascend!"