The instant Mu Sicheng turned his head, Bai Liu felt a gentle tug at the back of his collar—so swift was Mu Sicheng's movement that Bai Liu could scarcely discern his hand. For a fleeting moment, Bai Liu seemed to hover in midair, then, as if bungee-jumping backward, he was yanked at breakneck speed across the ground, his body hurtling through space as though swept into a temporal vortex. The world around him blurred into streaks of color, then faded to monochrome, until even black and white dissolved. A ringing filled his ears; he could see neither light nor shadow, only the howling of the wind as it scoured his face raw. To any onlooker, Bai Liu, dangling from Mu Sicheng's grip, would appear like a kite whipped about in a gale, his body flailing limply in the storm.
"Cooooool." Unable to resist, Bai Liu whistled, but Mu Sicheng's velocity was so great that the sound fractured into stuttering fragments, audible only to Mu Sicheng, who alone matched his speed.
Reduced to a flickering afterimage by Mu Sicheng's wild flight, Bai Liu still managed to raise a thumb in approval: "Mu Sicheng, your skill is like street racing—no wonder they call you the fastest man in this game. Facing the Thief Brothers is child's play for you."
"At this speed, aren't you worried you'll ruin your throat talking?" Mu Sicheng arched a brow, his tone wry. "And somehow, even when you're complimenting me, it sounds like an insult."
"My skill is indeed fast, but it burns through stamina just as quickly. Carrying you, I can last a minute at most," Mu Sicheng cut through Bai Liu's banter, unmoved by flattery. "If we don't win in that time, my speed will plummet, and we'll both be finished. Understand?"
"Understood." Bai Liu flashed an OK sign, tightening his grip on the fishbone whip, his lashes lowered in a faint, serene smile. "Let's begin."
[System prompt: Player Mu Sicheng's movement speed drops to 3400. The Thief Brother is about to catch up.]
Mu Sicheng braked against the train's wall, his simian claws scraping a trail of sparks across the stainless steel as his feet pressed together. In a single breath, the Thief Brother's black skull and splayed fingers loomed into their field of vision.
Mu Sicheng drew a deep breath, focusing every ounce of attention. Bai Liu, too, steeled himself. Had Du Sanying been present, he would have marveled at the uncanny synchronicity in their eyes—cold, mechanical, utterly inhuman.
The Thief Brother bounded along the train's walls, leaping in a blur to land before Bai Liu. With a shrill screech, it bared its teeth and slashed at Bai Liu. Mu Sicheng's breath faltered, but before he could react, Bai Liu spoke: "Mu Sicheng, do everything you must. The rest—"
"—leave to you, right?" Mu Sicheng gave a short, sardonic laugh. "No need to repeat yourself. I've heard it enough."
Bai Liu's plan was thus: the Thief Brothers were a duo of speed and power. The elder's attacks, as seen in Du Sanying's earlier battle, were only of C-rank—enough to chip away two points of HP from C-rank or lower players like Du Sanying and Bai Liu. But his speed rivaled Mu Sicheng's own, and once he caught up, he could disrupt and slow the player, allowing the younger, more powerful brother to strike.
The younger brother, though slower, possessed devastating strength. This synergy—speed and power, perfectly coordinated—was nearly insurmountable for Bai Liu's battered group.
Yet, no matter how impossible, the problem must be solved.
Analyzing the data and the game's mechanics, Bai Liu surmised the elder Thief carried twenty shards—shards they desperately needed, but which seemed unattainable unless they could outmatch the brothers in both speed and coordination.
Mu Sicheng alone could not prevail, especially while attempting to steal the shards mid-battle. He would be crushed by the younger brother before he even got close.
Thus, to steal from the elder Thief, another had to match Mu Sicheng's speed, outmaneuver the younger brother, and restrain the elder, creating an opening for theft. There could be no mistakes.
Bai Liu realized only he could fill this role. Everyone else's HP was below thirty—too low for such precision. Bai Liu himself had only three HP; a single misstep would spell annihilation. Neither he nor Mu Sicheng could afford to err.
Earlier, Bai Liu had forced the younger Thief to expend his ultimate, now on cooldown, making the plan barely feasible. Still, their stats were far inferior to the Thief Brothers, and Mu Sicheng didn't even know if his skill could steal from a monster of the same class.
It was a perilous gamble.
But—damn it all—if Bai Liu said the impossible could be left to him, so be it.
With a reckless breath, Mu Sicheng hurled Bai Liu toward the younger Thief, turning to face the elder himself.
His razor-sharp claws clashed with the elder Thief's charred talons, black against black, each seeking the other's heart. After a failed exchange, Mu Sicheng twisted away, catching Bai Liu mid-fall after he lashed the younger Thief with his whip. They swapped places in midair, Mu Sicheng now facing the younger, Bai Liu flung toward the elder.
Without a flicker of emotion, Bai Liu struck the elder Thief with his whip. Mu Sicheng, eyes narrowed, clawed at the stunned younger brother, shielding Bai Liu but suffering a burn from the flames.
[System prompt: Player Mu Sicheng suffers fire damage. HP -1, Sanity -1.]
The elder Thief retreated, landing on his brother's shoulders, then sprang up with a roar to attack again. Mu Sicheng flung Bai Liu once more.
Bai Liu spun in the air, whip cracking across the elder Thief's back, drawing a howl. The younger, enraged, charged at Bai Liu, fist raised to strike.
After the lash, Bai Liu plummeted, about to fall into the younger Thief's fiery grasp. His eyes darted—"Mu Sicheng," he called softly.
Mu Sicheng swung from two rings, his tail hooking Bai Liu's waist just in time, lifting him clear of danger.
Dangling by one hand, Mu Sicheng fixed his gaze on the elder Thief, extending his claw once more.
The elder, stung by the whip, shrieked at the sky. Man and monster, both agile and dark, their thieving claws clashed in the air at imperceptible speed, then broke apart.
Exhausted from two consecutive lashes, Bai Liu hung from Mu Sicheng's tail, gulping a stamina potion. The younger Thief charged, fist raised. Bai Liu, not yet finished drinking, slapped Mu Sicheng's back, who promptly flung him away.
Bai Liu, still biting the potion, spun through the air. His eyes locked on the Thief Brothers below. As they turned on Mu Sicheng, Bai Liu flicked his whip in a Z-shape, knocking both aside.
Though Bai Liu's whip lacked offensive power, its interference was formidable. Even so, Mu Sicheng was astonished—Bai Liu's composure and skill were unshakable. With only three HP, a single missed catch would mean death, yet Bai Liu showed no fear, boldly creating space for Mu Sicheng to steal.
"One minute's almost up," Bai Liu managed, his voice languid despite exhaustion. "Haven't got the shard yet? We're doomed if you don't."
His tone was lazy, almost teasing, as if oblivious to the danger.
"Wrong spot. The other passengers and the younger Thief kept their shards near the heart," Mu Sicheng panted, hanging by one hand. "But not this one. I can't find it."
"Not the heart…" Bai Liu mused. "If the shard is a weak point, it must be somewhere vital. The others kept it in the heart, but not this one…"
This elder Thief, unlike the others, seemed to have a strong theft skill and great speed—much like Mu Sicheng himself…
"A few seconds until the younger Thief's ultimate is ready, and I'm almost out of stamina…" Mu Sicheng watched the younger brother below, gathering power. He closed his eyes, breath ragged. "Bai Liu, if we don't find the shard next time, we're finished."
Bai Liu suddenly looked up. "Mu Sicheng, for a thief, what's the most important—or vulnerable—part of the body?"
Mu Sicheng had no time to ponder. He roared, hoarse with urgency, "Bai Liu! The elder Thief's behind you! Whip around!"
The minute was nearly up. Both were spent. Mu Sicheng clung to the ring with one hand, the other gripping Bai Liu, while below, the younger Thief charged his ultimate. He could not let go, nor help Bai Liu defend—he could only shout a warning.
But Bai Liu seemed too weak to respond, dazed and unmoving. Behind him, the elder Thief's talons formed a deadly spear, its exposed gums twisting into a grotesque smile. Without hesitation, it drove its claws into Bai Liu's heart, piercing him through.
The black, razor-sharp fingers burst from Bai Liu's chest. His body arched, a strangled gasp escaping as blood gushed from his lips, staining his white shirt crimson.
Mu Sicheng's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
"Bai Liu—!"
[System warning: Player Bai Liu has been attacked by the elder Thief! Critical condition!]