Chapter Twelve: Do Not Lose Your Temper During Hide-and-Seek

The enemy lurks in the shadows while we remain exposed. In such circumstances, the one who takes the initiative enjoys far more advantage than the defender. As long as the hidden foe remains undiscovered, he can unleash his ammunition at will, launching dozens, hundreds of attacks in succession. And when he wields a weapon that kills with a single touch, the situation becomes even more dire: the defender must intercept every strike, while the attacker is free to attempt as many times as he pleases. Only one success is needed.

“Ha—hahaha! Found—you!”

The psychic and the hunter emerged from the shadows. No sooner had they steadied themselves than a manic laugh erupted from the corner; at once, several masses of flesh coalesced into pointed spears, hurling toward them!

The psychic pressed his palms together. “Seal.”

Boom! As if heavy objects collided in that space, several concussive blasts sounded before them. The flesh-colored spears exploded, scattering into suspended blobs, resembling oversized paint splatters on a graffiti wall, hovering in midair.

The laughter abruptly ceased. Gongsun Ce shook his hand. “Much slower than the blood spikes from earlier, not nearly as swift as the Sky Serpent. What’s wrong, Mr. Tyrelos? Is that all you can manage?”

“Don’t rush. Let’s take our time—”

Alice, her face stern, launched a black arrow, pinning the hidden mouth to the ground. Pierced by the featherless dart, the mass of flesh designated for ridicule did not squirm free as before, but instead collapsed into a heap of rotten meat.

Retrieving her short arrow, the hunter repeated her earlier tactic, firing again at Gongsun Ce’s restrained “spears,” rendering those masses inert as well.

The psychic almost heard the man's agonized scream in his mind.

Afterward, she gestured to the psychic: “Split up. Find his true body or core.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright alone?”

“Who do you think herded this lunatic here?” She conjured a pale orchid in her hand. “Put this in your pocket; I explained how to use it—go!”

The hunter vanished into the shadows, while the young man leapt to the top of a massive shipping container.

As Gongsun Ce steadied himself, the first thing he saw was a cluster of oddly shaped flesh, riddled with holes like sieves, and dozens of blood spikes hurtling toward him.

“Surprise!”

I knew it.

He stood unmoving, and a white sphere materialized from the void, enveloping him in a sturdy shield that repelled every blood spike.

Having locked onto the previously marked position in his mind, the psychic gestured within the shield. Outside, muffled thumps echoed as heavy blows compressed the flesh.

He dispelled the shield and adjusted his glasses.

As expected, the spike-firing tissue had been crushed by his power. Yet the flesh itself remained unvanquished; it repeated its old trick, darting away as it had during its earlier self-destruction, leaving behind a small lump that morphed into lips and sneered, “Waste of effort! Waste of strength!”

Gongsun Ce noticed a pitch-black hole in the upper lip, the surrounding flesh protruding outward, resembling a miniature ear.

The psychic gagged.

“No offense, but I feel somewhat nauseated—referring to your abilities, not your character. If it were the latter, I’d use far more insulting words.”

“Listen to that sharp-tongued brat… You swine! Think you’re tough? You can’t even crack a single toenail of mine, you worthless trash!”

“Even middle school bullies wouldn’t come up with such lines nowadays. Why so impatient? That temperament is ill-suited for phone scams. I imagine you weren’t very successful in your previous career either, Mr. Tyrelos.”

“You—”

This opponent was as neurotic as he appeared—malicious yet easily enraged.

Anger makes one overlook details, impatience undermines composure; a quick temper is a character flaw. The psychic, all too familiar with this weakness, exploited it, provoking the man's emotions to coax him into revealing more: “You—! You—! If you’re out of insults, try some hometown sayings. My grasp of the common tongue is mediocre, so I may not understand, but I doubt the one cursing cares how his target feels. Or is it that you crafted this mouth just to display your stellar debating skills when out of words?” He spoke while weaving threads of telekinesis, meticulously scanning the ten-meter radius.

Aside from the enraged mouth and the container beneath his feet, he sensed nothing else.

That was unusual.

Tyrelos’s mouth sprang up. “Ah-ha! Brag all you want, boy. I’ve got plenty of time to waste with you! My power is endless, your attacks are useless, every defense drains your mind. How long do you think you can last—!”

Boom!

As he finished, Tyrelos’s voice rose in a warped pitch; the container beneath the young man erupted as a blood-red claw shot up, grasping at his body.

“Oh, just as I thought.”

The blood claw missed, for the psychic flew upward before it could reach him.

He smashed the claw back into the flesh with a swift blow, telekinesis dispersing into a three-dimensional cage that compressed the unescaped meat into a crimson cube.

Tyrelos’s taunts served not only his vile nature but also to distract and set up a sneak attack.

The only area not scanned was the container beneath his feet—the source of the ambush was clear.

Within the transparent cube, the flesh struggled angrily. The young man grabbed the cube and landed, sprinting through the stacked containers. Blood needles shot from all directions, melting concrete and steel, but none touched him.

Even Gongsun Ce found this enemy troublesome—his movements seemed aimless, and Tyrelos, noticing, conjured three mouths to taunt him. “Look at you, so pathetic! You’re out of options, psychic!”

The young man blocked another assault with a white wall. “I don’t claim to be an expert, but I hardly think I’ve acted like an amateur in battle.”

“Hinting at some hidden plan, pig? I know your game—you and that woman are trying the same trick, scampering around the container port hoping luck will lead you to my supposed true body…”

Time passed swiftly as the psychic dodged attacks, nearly reaching the port’s edge. A few meters ahead lay the giant freight elevator.

Realizing a battle ahead would cause enormous destruction, he veered toward the least crowded corner of stacked containers.

“You’ll be disappointed, boy…” The three mouths chattered on, “Because the body you seek doesn’t exist at all!”

“…!”

The young man halted abruptly, stunned by the claim.

The venomous orange-haired man seized the chance, cautiously maneuvering nearby flesh into container crevices, setting traps in unseen darkness.

“No… true body?”

“How could there be? I am everywhere!” The mouths sang a mocking trio. “And that pretty hunter woman died just now! Splitting up was your worst decision—she was melted into sludge by my flesh a minute ago. The terror on her face as she lost her body bit by bit was exquisite!”

The man cackled, spewing foul words. He noticed Gongsun Ce’s trembling wrist, about to rise—a sure sign of an imminent attack.

“Feeling regret, aren’t you? Wish you’d seen her beg for—”

The psychic clenched his fist, invisible blades diced the mouths into pulp.

Tyrelos K chuckled in the shadows.

Lost his composure, attacked in vain, even knowing it was pointless—a waste of his power. All was as Tyrelos had hoped, the psychic had finally taken the bait.

Now was the moment to spring the trap.

Hidden flesh erupted, dozens of lumps spraying blood, threads binding together to weave a red net around Gongsun Ce.

All happened in an instant—as he struck the lips, countless needles launched from the net.

With their piercing whistle came Tyrelos’s manic scream: “Ha—hahaha! At last! You’re finished, psychic!”

He had every reason to believe he’d won—human reaction time has limits. The psychic, drained by his anger, could not defend as before; unless he possessed some earth-burrowing power, there was no escape.

In the darkness, Tyrelos heightened his attention, eager to witness his foe’s last expression—

“Purify.”

The red net shattered, the poison needles exploded!

The dragon worshiper’s trap was demolished with brute force—flesh, needles, all crushed by overwhelming power, flowing alongside molten steel on the multicolored container walls.

Tyrelos’s mouths fell silent.

“You, like the star-being before, possess a mysterious confidence in your own judgment. Is that a common trait among your kind? He believed in his speed; you thought I couldn’t multitask with my abilities… Surely not, Tyrelos. If you can simultaneously attack both me and Alice across this area, why would I be unable to react just as quickly?”

“How is it possible?!” Another mouth exclaimed. “If you had such power, you should have saved that agent—”

The young man cut him off. “Preparation and improvisation are not the same. Your earlier ambush was ingenious—using minimal blood, disguising it as a transmitter, even I failed to notice in time, so I couldn’t save Mr. White. But now, you’ve given me ample time to prepare; the situation is different.”

Gongsun Ce declared confidently.

It was all due to prior preparation.

Yet, if he had been so cautious, why had he been running about like a headless chicken, and what explained that sudden halt if not shock?

A sudden unease gripped the hidden man—he realized his judgment had suffered a fatal error.

The young man jumped from the ground, soaring several meters, landing atop the container.

He opened his hand; a red cube lay in his palm.

“Tyrelos K, you’re wrong about two things. First, I wasn’t searching for your true body—I was testing your ability’s range.”

Gongsun Ce released the power’s hold, letting the flesh fall at his feet.

It lay motionless, just like those struck by Alice’s arrows, literal dead meat.

“When I stopped just now, it was because this piece of flesh abruptly ceased struggling. It lasted only a moment, but I’m sure I saw it…”

“And when I stepped onto this container, the flesh stopped moving entirely. It seems this is the limit of your power’s reach.” The psychic adjusted his glasses. “You’re not transforming it into bizarre weapons to attack me? Not even to disgust me a little? Abandoning part of your body so readily doesn’t suit someone so protective of himself.”

Tyrelos’s mouth floated half a meter away, silent.

The psychic spread his hands. “Just half a meter further, yet you refuse to act—how odd. Now, the second thing: your lies are too clumsy, serving only to warn me about your ambush.”

The mouth finally spoke. “What do you mean?”

“In other words, my attack was not out of anger, but simply because I was repulsed.” The young man slipped his hand into his pocket and recited Alice’s command, “Shadow Orchid.”

His fingers touched the tiny orchid inside.

The darkness within the pocket counted as a kind of shadow—a suitable environment for Alice’s ability.

He had never felt anything so peculiar: darkness enveloped his vision, a strange discomfort flooded him, as if the elements building his existence thinned, even the entity called Gongsun Ce became less substantial—not dissolving, but as though some grand force had flattened him into a pattern on paper.

The sensation vanished instantly, and his view shifted from darkness to a reality filtered through somber hues.

Alice Hunter stood with her back to him, firing arrows at a lump of flesh.

He imagined himself emerging from the flatness, like a diver breaking the surface.

The shadowy filter disappeared, and Gongsun Ce realized he stood on Alice’s shadow, a small orchid blooming at his feet.

He rubbed his temple. “Wow, this feeling… You’re incredible.”

“It’s nothing—once you’re used to it, it’s just like diving.”

“Earlier you said your ability required direct contact—does touching this flower count as touching you?”

“Shadow Orchid is my familiar, so it’s a part of me. Using it this way drains a lot of energy, so I rarely do it… So, how’s the situation?”

“I’ve figured it out. His power covers a wide area, but his true body’s movement is restricted. I suspect he’s in some hidden spot with very limited mobility.”

The hunter smiled with delight. “Thanks for the intel—I think I know where he is.”

The enemy lurks in the shadows while we remain exposed.

In such circumstances, the attacker enjoys greater advantage than the defender.

But the reverse is true as well.

As long as the two can pinpoint the enemy’s true body…

The tide of battle will instantly turn.