Chapter 8: Gliding Twilight

Page 1/3

Ding-ling-ling-ling-ling!
The urgent ringing sounded like a death knell. Seconds later, a trembling hand slapped the alarm clock to silence it. Just waking up, Ji Huaisu’s eyes were heavy with sleep, her hair a wild mess. She got out of bed with the sluggishness of a golden retriever zombie freshly unearthed.

Dragging herself to the washroom, she splashed a generous amount of cold water on her face to wake up. As she tied her ponytail, she glanced at her watch: exactly 7:35 a.m.

Wow, what a luxurious sleep… her first time waking up after 5:30 this month!

Yesterday’s downfall of Hugos was a rare stroke of good fortune; the task list was nearly halved, allowing her to enjoy a leisurely lie-in. She yawned widely, her spirits soaring as she dressed and freshened up. When she finished, she looked out the window. Her room was one floor higher than a newcomer’s directly opposite, close enough to leap onto the rooftop across with a little effort.

Chu Hengkong’s vacant room window was open, the morning breeze fluttering over an empty bed.

“…Where did that guy run off to?”

Chu Hengkong stood atop the dormitory building, his right side facing forward, legs planted firmly in a horse stance. His right arm bent at the elbow, pushing downward, while his left arm’s tentacle retracted slightly, held near his waist like a clenched fist.

This awkward posture was the “Two-Poles Stance” from Baji Quan, a traditional martial art. Even a lifelong master would find standing still in this pose for 40 minutes extremely difficult, yet Chu Hengkong had already held it for an hour. He usually used this stance to relax his body and mind, but now the longer he stood, the more tangled his thoughts became.

“Slacking off during stance training, huh? Your left hand won’t stop moving.”

A clear laugh came from behind before the person appeared. Along with the laughter came a sharp kick, the visitor’s toe aiming straight for Chu Hengkong’s ankle. He didn’t dodge but took the kick, barely losing balance.

He turned to the girl behind him. “Good strength. Ever been kicked by Mr. Ji a few times before?”

Anyone trained in martial arts would find this scene amusing. Most traditional disciplines start with stance training—some even require standing with a bowl of water or an apple on the head, and at the very least, enduring the sun’s relentless heat. The masters would pace nearby, eyes sharp as an eagle’s, ready to punish any twitch with a harsh sweep, no matter how tall or strong the student was.

Ji Huaisu had clearly endured similar hardships; her voice carried a wave of bitter memories.

“Don’t remind me… It took me two years just to hold this stance properly. Even my father, who was so unteachable, admitted I wasn’t cut out for martial arts.” She sighed. “But how can you, a genuine expert, make such a basic mistake?”

Earlier, Chu Hengkong’s tentacle was constantly adjusting—sometimes shifting position, sometimes changing length—hence Ji Huaisu’s teasing. He relaxed his posture and exhaled heavily.

“My new arm isn’t adapted yet; I’m adjusting my center of gravity.”

The tentacle weighed slightly less than his original left arm. Its length changes subtly shifted his body’s balance. Such minor changes could be adapted to with stance training, but the real problem lay in the differences in form and rigidity.

The biggest difference between a tentacle and a human hand was the absence of fingers, bones, and joints. Without fingers, actions like stabbing or grasping were impossible. Without arm bones, it couldn’t provide effective arm defense. Lacking an elbow joint was fatal—powerful moves like elbow strikes or smashes were entirely out of the question for his left arm.

Page 2/3

Last night’s failed Iron Mountain Smash was a wake-up call for Chu Hengkong. While the extendable tentacle was a deadly weapon at medium and long range, it became a liability in close-quarters combat. If he didn’t quickly overcome the new arm’s drawbacks, he would surely falter. But developing new combat techniques couldn’t be rushed; for now, he needed quick fixes—like handy weapons or hidden arms...

“Last night I earnestly advised you to cut off the arm, but you didn’t listen. Regretting it now?” Ji Huaisu teased with a gleeful smirk. “Come on, let’s settle breakfast quickly and get moving.”

“Understood, Captain. Who’s the target today?” Chu Hengkong responded eagerly.

“Please have some sense of justice and don’t act like a thug… though I know you’re basically a high-level thug anyway.” Ji Huaisu rubbed her forehead. “No work on your first day, I’ll take you to the workshop to get your most prized relic.”

Ji Huaisu headed toward the nearby staircase. Chu Hengkong lingered a moment, quietly rolling his ankle.

Though he appeared calm, he was inwardly startled. Ji Huaisu’s kick was far stronger than it seemed; he almost thought he’d been tripped by the demonized Hugos. Such disproportionate power defied logic unless she was born with innate talent.

People like her were considered untalented in Mr. Ji’s eyes. How high were the standards for martial artists in this other world? Suppressing his doubts, he hurried after the captain, a flicker of excitement stirring within.

He had to find an opportunity for a proper fight with her.

·

Their breakfast was goose meat buns and soy milk, eaten on the go as Captain Huaisu led him into a strange “elevator.”

This elevator was located deep within the headquarters building, at the end of a narrow corridor. A faint scent of sandalwood lingered inside. The brown walls felt rough, etched with natural wood grain. Its ascent was incredibly fast, reminding Chu Hengkong of the Burj Khalifa in Dubai—the world’s tallest building once, built by oil-rich sheikhs as a monument to extravagance, with the fastest elevator that reached the top in under a minute.

The headquarters’ elevator was even faster—they had been standing inside for over two minutes. If it were his first time ascending to the “upper levels,” Chu Hengkong would be stunned by the calculated height. Now he simply admired the mysterious technology.

This was his second visit here.

The elevator stopped silently, the overhead panel opened, and the roar of whirling weapons swept past from above. The water-curtain sky and the weapon tide appeared once again right before Chu Hengkong’s eyes—he had returned to the place he was summoned to. Upon exiting, he immediately dropped to the ground, mirroring Ji Huaisu’s movements ahead.

“Is there a normal path here?!” Chu Hengkong shouted, needing to raise his voice over the cacophony.

“There used to be, but all was destroyed after the great battle!” Ji Huaisu shouted back, handing him a small weighted cloth bag. “Don’t wander off—follow me!”

Ji Huaisu clearly knew the “safe routes” here. They stealthily advanced about ten meters, rising to a half-crouch where the weapon tide was slightly higher. After another ten meters, they lowered themselves, and by the platform’s edge, they stood fully upright. Ji Huaisu unfolded the cloth bag to reveal a compact, rolled-up glider.

“Another relic?” Chu Hengkong quickly prepared the gear. The small glider was a triangular cloth with a magic array and a few wooden rods, its safety bordering on the laughable—a portable death trap.

“A standard issue from the Revival Squad. Just grip the triangular frame and it activates,” Ji Huaisu gave a thumbs-up. “Let’s go, rookie. If you fall from here, you’ll be the laughingstock of the whole team!”

Page 3/3

She stepped back two paces and launched the makeshift glider with a cheer. Professional athletes on Earth would probably stroke out watching that. Chu Hengkong wrapped his tentacle tightly around the frame and leapt into the wind, mimicking Ji Huaisu.

His vision instantly turned to pure white. The furious wind at high altitude almost robbed him of hearing. For a moment, he felt as if he had jumped into a crack between worlds—empty, endless loneliness and falling. Then, a streak of gold appeared in the white world: the girl’s ponytail fluttering behind her. Her delicate face turned in the wind, her eyes bright as amethyst, shimmering like water ripples.

“Light,” she said.

Indeed, light appeared—two faint golden rings formed a transparent sphere, enveloping them completely. Chu Hengkong felt his body lighten; noise and wind pressure faded as if they no longer existed. The magic array on the wings glowed faintly, generating a strange thrust and lift that allowed him to glide smoothly.

He adjusted the wing’s angle, curving toward the girl. As the two light spheres approached, they merged like glowing raindrops joining in midair.

Ji Huaisu winked at him. “Not a great first glide for a professional killer.”

“I had control by the time you moved,” Chu Hengkong said with a tense face.

“Really?” The female captain stretched the word out.

“One second later, maybe not.” He admitted helplessly. “Is that your ability?”

“Kind of a little trick. Now look back behind you—you’ll get a good idea of this place at a glance.”

Chu Hengkong slowly turned his head. A towering, earth-reaching brown wall abruptly filled his vision. From a distance, he realized it was a magnificent giant tower; they had been standing atop this tower’s summit. Looking down its trunk, he saw hundreds of thick, sturdy “branches” extending outward.

The branches intertwined and twisted, stretching far away. Each cluster supported an island-like landmass, with gray workshops and stone towers built atop. Dozens of these “sky islands” formed concentric circles, resembling a gray canopy covering a city. No, not resembling—it was the genuine branches and leaves.

The giant tower was a colossal tree reaching to the heavens.

“Now it’s Captain’s friendly science lesson time,” Ji Huaisu whistled. “Huilong City is a three-dimensional metropolis divided into three tiers. These sky islands are the uppermost level, home to the ‘workshops’ for salvaging, identifying, and selling relics. Your prized loot is in one of those workshop islands. When we get there, stick close to me—no wandering off.”

But Chu Hengkong barely heard her. He even forgot about his loot. Before such grandeur and magnificence, mere relics seemed like dust.

For the first time in a long while, the killer’s heart swelled with youthful joy. He marveled once again that he had truly come to another world. He was heading toward a workshop on a sky island, accompanied by a golden-haired girl who could command light.