Chapter 220: Blazing Blood

Chapter 220: Blazing BloodAs soon as the words left Lyra’s lips, a crushing force clamped down around her. The space closed in, rigid and unforgiving, locking her into place.

Ansel’s mouth twisted into a cold smirk. "Your biggest flaw," he sneered, "is your arrogance. Slipped away a couple of times, but don’t think for a second that luck’s gonna save you every time."

With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he commanded, "Take her away. I’ve got big plans for that Blazing Blood fruit and the wealth it’ll rake in."

As Lyra was hauled off, Ansel’s attention shifted to the next guest arriving in the room—Miss Shane.

Known for her keen business savvy and intimidating presence, she stepped in with a steady gaze, quickly noticing the high-tech cage designed to suppress all powers.

Inside, a young woman sat bound, power smothered by custom cuffs.

Shane raised a curious eyebrow. "And this...?" she asked with cool detachment.

"Nothing that concerns you," Ansel replied smoothly, motioning for her to sit. "Let’s focus on business."

Shane seated herself with practiced elegance, crossing her long legs in a single, graceful motion. "I’ve brought precisely what you wanted—either a high-grade energy stone mine or a plant capable of temporarily boosting superpowers. Both are level-eight, though I’m open to negotiating on quantity."

Ansel’s eyes gleamed; he’d specifically invited her here to access an energy stone mine. "Three cubic meters of level-eight energy stones," he declared, locking eyes with her.

She blinked, then laughed richly. "SIR, three cubic meters? You think I have energy stones just lying around for you to scoop up?"

Her voice, dripping with amused sarcasm, grated on Ansel. He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his composure—she was a partner in this deal, not one of his underlings.

"Two cubic meters," he began, aiming to regain some control.

"One cubic meter," she cut in, her offer firm as steel. "Plus, I’ll throw in a level-eight plant that temporarily boosts superpowers. That’s as far as I’m willing to go."

Though Ansel knew the stone mine’s value far outweighed any rare plant, he couldn’t ignore the potential boost the plant could offer in a fight. She had backed him into a corner—and she knew it.

"Deal," he finally ground out, barely containing his irritation.

Shane’s eyes sparkled with victory as she clapped her hands, sealing the agreement. "A pleasure, sir. Shall we finalize it?"

Ansel nodded, signaling the auction staff to step forward and witness the transaction.

Each party revealed their assets: an uncut, amethyst-hued energy stone radiating a powerful glow, and a small metal box containing the precious plant.

The staff confirmed the authenticity of both items, officially sealing the deal.

Inside her cage, Lyra seethed, her fists clenched as she watched the transaction unfold.

Shane stowed her acquisitions into her Space Button, shooting Ansel a satisfied look. "I’ll take my leave now, sir."

Without waiting for a response, she exited the room with the same confident stride she’d entered with.

Her gaze flicked briefly to Lyra before she disappeared. She left a thick, tense silence in her wake.

Ansel exhaled slowly, organizing his new treasures before striding toward Lyra’s cage.

He leaned in close, his expression a twisted parody of sympathy. "Lyra, you’ve caused me more trouble than you’re worth. Now, what do you think would be a fitting punishment?"

His gaze zeroed in on her Space Button, and with a quick motion, he snatched it, eager to uncover its secrets. But as he attempted to pry it open, a realization hit him like ice—it was a decoy.

"Where’s the real one?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Lyra’s expression shifted as she leaned back. She crossed her arms, a sly smile spreading across her face. "Who’d be foolish enough to bring the real one right to your front door?"

Ansel’s face darkened with fury. Without hesitation, he unlocked the cage, yanked her out, and threw her to the floor. His boot drove into her stomach with brutal force. "I’ll ask you again—"

"You could ask a thousand times," she spat, voice shaking but defiant, a smear of blood on her teeth, "it wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t have it."

In an instant, the restraints on her powers fizzled away.

Lyra’s form rippled, her features shifting. And suddenly, there was no Lyra—but a bald-headed man, grinning smugly as he looked up at a thoroughly stunned Ansel.

Ansel’s eyes widened, disbelief freezing his expression. But before he could even process what had just happened, Freon tossed a gas bomb directly at him.

Out of instinct, Ansel inhaled, only for a wave of dizziness to slam into him, distorting his vision and scrambling his grasp on reality.

By the time the smoke cleared, Freon was gone, whisked away by a mysterious figure as the air shimmered around them, leaving only silence—and Ansel’s barely contained rage.

Clenching the fake Space Button in his fist, Ansel trembled with fury. It had all been an elaborate ruse, a complete setup!

As the pieces of the plot fell into place, realization struck him like a physical blow. ’The real Lyra... Had it been... Miss Shane?’

The truth hit him, cruel and undeniable. Lyra, expertly disguised, had walked right out with his coveted level-nine strength-enhancing plant, all while he had been none the wiser.

Barely able to contain his wrath, he bellowed, "Lock down the city! Every terminal, every exit—no one leaves until I say so!"

Meanwhile, Freon had already arrived at a safehouse, transported by a peculiar figure with a level-nine teleportation ability.

As the payment transferred, the old man, dressed sharply in a white suit, checked his account and gave a satisfied nod. His eyes, however, lingered on Freon with a knowing look.

"Kid," he said in a tone both calm and challenging, "you’re tied up with that girl who snagged the level-nine plant, aren’t you?"

Freon chuckled dryly, wiping blood from his mouth. "Listen, old man," he replied, wincing as he spoke, "if I were you, I’d keep a safe distance. Level-nine teleportation or not, it won’t save you if she decides you’re a problem."

The old man laughed, clearly unfazed. "Well, I’ve pocketed enough today, so I’ll keep my distance," he said with a wink before disappearing with a flash.

Freon stood in place, catching his breath, hands casually shoved into his pockets. But after a moment, he jolted into motion, muttering, "Man, I nearly bit the dust back there!"

Holding his aching side, he darted through back alleys, winding through the maze of the city until he finally slipped into a luxury apartment building.

Reaching a familiar door, he raised his hand to knock—but before he could, it swung open.

There, silhouetted in the doorway, stood a tall, slender woman with a look as icy as steel. One look at her and he felt that chill run through him. No mistaking it—this was HER.

"Boss... it’s really you?"

"Get in here." She didn’t have to say it twice. Freon darted inside, the weight of her command pushing him forward.

Once she’d bandaged his wounds, Freon collapsed onto her couch with a dramatic sigh, his cheeky grin returning. "Boss, I almost died out there! You seriously owe me for this one. How about setting me up with one of your girls—Mandy, Debbie, any of ’em really—"

His words cut off when he noticed her ice-cold stare, eyes like razors. "You’re getting awfully bold," Lyra muttered, her fingers lazily spinning a dagger. "And you brought a tail."

With a flick of her wrist, the dagger flew, embedding itself in what appeared to be empty space in the doorway. It clanged against something metallic before falling to the ground.

Freon nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes widening in alarm.

Moving like a striking snake, Lyra vaulted over the couch and drove her foot against the wall with explosive force.

The old teleporter was slammed against the window, his face a mask of shock as he tried to teleport away. But just as he prepared to vanish, a silver chain snapped around him, jerking him back mid-teleport.

"No way! How is this possible?!" the old man, Morrun, stammered, eyes darting wildly as he met the gaze of the woman holding the chain.

Lyra’s expression softened into a calculating smile that made Morrun’s blood run cold. "A volunteer, hmm? Not a bad bonus at all," she said, voice dripping with dark amusement.

Freon, suppressing a laugh, strolled up to the dazed Morrun, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "Didn’t I warn you, Morrun? You should’ve listened. You got paid to work with us before, but now? Well, now you’re working to save your own skin."

If Morrun could’ve hit rewind on the day, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Freon’s taunting smirk was like salt in Morrun’s wound, and he fought the urge to lash out.

Choking back his pride, Morrun leveled a furious glare at the woman in disguise. "This is impossible! You’re only level seven. How the hell do you have such powerful psychokinesis?"

He was a level-nine teleporter, after all. Combat might not be his specialty, but he shouldn’t have been left this vulnerable, especially by someone of her level. ’And that bizarre, flexible metal she wields like an extension of her own strength—just who is this woman?’

Lyra didn’t bother answering. She circled him slowly, sizing him up with a critical eye. "I was just wondering how to dodge Ansel’s tracking," she mused aloud. "But now that I have you... things just got much simpler."

Without another word, she wrapped a firm hand around his throat, her grip tightening with each word. "You have two choices," she said, voice steady and devoid of any hint of mercy. "Die here, or work for me. Your call."

Her grip grew stronger, squeezing the air from his lungs, until his head pounded with pain.

It was a disgrace, being overpowered by a level-seven Peculiar, but as Morrun vision started to blur, survival instincts kicked in.

With a strained gasp, he finally managed, "If I get you and the plant out of here... you’ll let me go, right?"

"Of course," she replied smoothly, her expression unreadable.

Reluctantly, he nodded, and she released her grip. He sucked in air, the humiliation raw even as relief washed over him.

Just then, Freon coughed theatrically, rubbing his hands together with a hopeful grin. "Sooo... I’m good to go, right?"

As thrilling as the job had been, he valued his life more than sticking around for the fallout. Lyra might relish her power plays with Ansel, but he was all too eager to make his exit.

Lyra rolled her eyes, then pulled a portable teleportation station from her Space Button, gesturing for him to step in.

Freon grinned, hopping into the platform with a quick "Goodbye, and good luck!" He gave her a cheeky salute, the teleportation light swallowing him up. As far as he was concerned, getting out alive to charm another day was the perfect victory.

With the glow fading and Freon safely gone, Morrun shook his head, staring at Lyra in bafflement. "You have a portable teleportation device—why drag me into this at all?"

"Be quiet and stay put," she replied coolly, leaving him in the living room as she strode into the bedroom.

Of course, she could have escaped alone using the device, but that way she’d have to leave the device here. She trusted no one here to get rid of the device.

After slipping away from the auction house, she had cycled through several disguises to keep Ansel’s eyes off her trail, but she knew the clock was ticking.

Finally alone, Lyra pulled the Blazing Blood fruit from her pouch.

Her hands trembled slightly, a rare crack in her otherwise steely demeanor.

After everything, after years of scheming and sacrifice, the prized fruit was finally hers. She’d waited so long for this moment, and now, it was real.