Heaven Dou Academy – The Library
The Imperial Library was a sanctuary of silence. Dust motes danced in the light, and the smell of old paper filled the air.
"Mr. Silas," the head librarian called out.
"Please re-shelve the history section. The second years left it in mess."
" Of course," replied a tall, thin man with wire-rimmed glasses. His voice was dry, polite, and perfectly boring.
Whisper, disguised as Mr. Silas, pushed a cart of books. He moved with the stiffness of a man who had spent forty years reading. To anyone watching, he was invisible.
But his mind was working at high speed.
He wasn't just shelving books. He was cross-referencing Arthev's borrowing history with his class schedule and the academy's resource logs.
Target: Arthev.
Borrowed Books: Advanced Botany, Bone Density, Tectonic Plate Theory.
Combat Style: Unknown.
Origin: Unknown Village.
"He reads about plants and density of bones," Whisper murmured, sliding a book into place.
"Not spirit cultivation. Not meditation."
A normal spy would think Arthev was just weird. Whisper knew better.
"He is researching how to break things,"
Whisper deduced. "He is not studying the world, he is studying its structural weaknesses."
"Excuse me, Mr. Silas?"
Whisper turned. A female student stood there, holding a stack of notes.
"Do you know where the books on 'Spirit Mutation' are?" she asked.
"Aisle 4, bottom shelf," Whisper replied instantly. Then, he adjusted his glasses. "Are you in the advanced class? Spirit Mutation is a complex topic."
"Oh, no," the girl laughed nervously.
"It's just... everyone is talking about the new guy in the Royal Team. He says his tree spirit mutated to control elements. I wanted to see if that's actually possible."
Whisper's expression didn't change. "An elemental tree. Fascinating. Is he... approachable?"
"Arthev?" The girl snorted. "He barely talks. He spends all his time training the team or reading weird books."
"Thank you for the insight."Whisper said.
The girl walked away. Whisper watched her go.
A boy who appeared from nowhere, controls elements that shouldn't belong to a tree, and reads books.
He tapped a small communication bead deep in his ear.
"Spark. Status?"
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Heaven Dou Academy – The Kitchens
"I hate potatoes," Spark hissed.
He was standing over a massive basin of water, peeling potatoes. He was wearing a white chef's hat that kept sliding over his eyes.
"Spark, status," Whisper's voice buzzed in his ear via a tiny, communication bead.
"Status? My status is miserable!" Spark whispered angrily, furiously peeling a potato with a speed that frightened the other cooks.
"I am peeling tubers for noble brats. This knife is dull. I want to use a micro-explosive to peel them all at once."
"Do not detonate the vegetables," Whisper ordered. "What about the target?"
"Eating lunch," Spark muttered. "He eats like a machine. Chew, chew, swallow. No joy. He is currently lecturing the Bird kid about... salt intake?"
Spark looked around. The Head Chef was yelling at a junior cook. Spark seized the moment.
He didn't use soul power. Soul power creates a ripple that high-level sensors (like Arthev's rumored perception) could pick up.
Instead, Spark reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, clockwork device. It looked like a beetle, made of dull copper. It was a tech, powered by a spring, not a soul power.
"Go," Spark whispered.
He wound the key. The beetle clicked softly and skittered across the floor, blending in with the dirt. It scurried under the tables, stopping directly beneath Arthev's seat.
It wasn't a camera. It was a vibration sensor. It transmitted footsteps.
"The beetle is planted," Spark reported. "If he moves, I feel it in my teeth."
"Good," Whisper said. "They are leaving the cafeteria. Follow them. Do not engage. Just observe his habits."
"Finally," Spark groaned. He threw the potato knife into the sink.
"I'm taking a smoke break!" he shouted to the confused kitchen staff, then vanished out the back door.
---------
Heaven Dou City – The Marketplace
The capital was loud. It was the perfect cover.
The Royal Team walked in a loose group. Dugu Yan was linking arms with Ye Lingling, pointing out dresses in shop windows. The Graphite Brothers were arguing about which shield polish was better. Yu Tianheng walked beside Arthev.
"So," Yu Tianheng asked. "What are resistance bands?"
"Rubber," Arthev said. "Elasticity. We use gravity for weight training, but gravity only pulls down. Elastic bands provide resistance in any direction. It builds stabilizer muscles."
"You and your muscles," Dugu Yan sighed, though she was eyeing a jewelry store.
"Can we at least stop for snacks?"
"After we visit the blacksmith," Arthev said. "Priorities."
Fifty meters back, Spark merged with the crowd. He had shed the chef outfit for a grey laborer's cloak. He didn't look at Arthev. He looked at shop windows, at the sky, at his shoes.
He was a Shadow. He knew that staring creates a feeling of being watched.
'He's good,' Spark noted. 'He changes his walking rhythm every few minutes. Fast, slow, limp, stride. It throws off anyone tracking by sound.'
Up ahead, Arthev paused. He stopped in front of a mirror shop.
Arthev's eyes narrowed slightly.
'Stunned face,' .Shukaku projected. 'I smell onions. And gunpowder.'
'The cook?' Arthev asked.
'He's following. But I can't pinpoint him.
He's not using soul power. He's blending his heat signature with the crowd.'
Arthev turned to his team. "Split up. Dugu Yan, Lingling, get the medical supplies. Brothers, food supplements. I'll take the rest to the hardware district."
"Why?" Yu Tianheng asked.
"Efficiency," Arthev said.
The team split. Arthev walked alone down a side street toward the industrial sector.
Spark grinned beneath his hood. "Splitting the party. Classic mistake. Or... a trap?"
Spark didn't follow Arthev into the alley. That was amateur hour. If Arthev was good, he would have an ambush waiting.
Instead, Spark climbed.
He scurried up a drainpipe with the speed of his namesake rat. He ran along the rooftop, looking down.
Arthev walked into a shop called "Iron & Gear."
Spark laid flat on the roof tiles. He pulled out a small glass tube, a localized acoustic amplifier. He pressed it to the chimney.
Below, in the shop.
"I need hooks," Arthev's voice drifted up.
"And rubber. And... do you have a back exit?"
"Through the storage room, young master," the shopkeeper replied.
Spark chuckled. "Running away? Cute."
Spark didn't chase. He knew the layout of the city. The back exit of that shop led to Tallow Lane. If Arthev went out that way, he would have to pass the dye works.
Spark scrambled across the roofs, cutting the corner. He positioned himself above the dye works, waiting.
Three minutes later, Arthev walked out of the dye works alley. He had changed his jacket and mussed his hair. He looked confident, thinking he had lost the tail.
He walked into a shady-looking apothecary.
Spark watched from above. "What are you buying, kid?"
Ten minutes later, Arthev came out. He was holding a small, brown paper bag. He held it tight, looking around nervously before tucking it deep into his pocket.
Then, Arthev rejoined his team at the fountain.
"Sorry for the delay," Arthev said loudly, a little too loudly. "I had to find a specific component. Blue Moon Grass."
Spark's ears twitched. Blue Moon Grass? A muscle stimulant? Is that it? Is he just juicing?
Arthev smiled at his team. "Let's go. We have everything."
As the team walked away, Spark sat up on the roof. He tapped his comms bead.
"Whisper," Spark said. "I have intel. He tried to shake me, but i cut him off. He bought illegal stimulants. Blue Moon Grass."
In the library, Whisper paused his shelving.
"He tried to shake you?" Whisper asked.
"And when he failed, he loudly announced his secret purchase?"
"Yeah," Spark said. "He thinks he's slick. But he's just a kid using drugs to get strong."
"No," Whisper said cold. "You are being played, Spark."
Spark blinked. "Hah?"
"If he really wanted to hide a secret drug habit, he wouldn't announce it in a public square," Whisper analyzed.
"He sensed you. He couldn't shake you, so he decided to feed you."
Whisper placed a book on the shelf with a snap.
"He gave you a fake answer to make you stop looking. He wants us to think he's just a cheater."
Spark frowned. "So... he's not a junkie?"
"He is the Anomaly," Whisper confirmed.
"A thirteen-year-old who understands counter-intelligence well enough to plant a false lead? That is not a student. That is a trained operative."
Spark grinned, a wide, dangerous expression. "Oh. So I can blow him up now?"
"Not yet," Whisper ordered. "He is smart. If we attack, he will have contingencies. We need to know where he keeps the Artifacts. The stimulant story was a distraction. The real treasure is somewhere else."
---------
Arthev walked back to the academy, the resistance bands heavy in his bag.
'The gaze is gone,' Arthev noted. 'Or at least, the intent has shifted.'
'You think they bought the drug story?' Shukaku asked.
'They might suspect it's a lie,' Arthev admitted. 'But that's fine. If they think I'm a liar, they think I'm hiding a crime. They won't immediately jump to "he has ancient world-ending artifacts."'
He touched his right eye.
'It buys me time. Time to get the Royal Team ready. Time to unlock the next level of my eye.'
He didn't realize that by being too smart, he had confirmed to the Shadows that he was the biggest fish in the pond.
He thought he was playing checkers.
The Shadows thought they were playing chess.
In reality, they were both standing on a landmine.
"Tomorrow," Arthev told Yu Tianheng, "we start the elasticity training. It will hurt."
"Good," Yu Tianheng said, his eyes scanning the road, more alert than before. "I hate potatoes anyway."
Arthev blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," Yu Tianheng muttered. "Just... felt like saying it."
Arthev smiled. The Captain was learning to trust his instincts. They would need that.
To be continued...