Repugnans sum-LVII
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DATE:11th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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I spent most of the day helping Emily adjust to the new sensors we had installed. It wasn't a seamless process—she struggled to interpret some of the data streams properly, and I had to keep recalibrating. It was a slow, tedious process, but I could see she was learning. It felt strange, almost like watching a child figure out how to walk.
At some point, I decided to take a break and called Alice to check in. She answered quickly, but the background noise was loud—voices, announcements over an intercom, and the general hum of a crowd. "It's pretty crowded here," she said. "I'm at the station, waiting for a ride."
I leaned back in my chair, tapping the edge of the table. "I ran into the Inquisitor today," I told her. "Turns out, she's Amiya's younger sister."
There was a pause on the line before Alice responded. "Yeah, I know," she said. "She mentioned her to me once. They don't look exactly alike, but you can tell they're related."
I frowned, a thought crossing my mind. "Did she go to Zenik Academy too? I don't remember seeing her there."
Alice's reply was immediate. "No, she didn't. The Inquisitor didn't attend Zenik. She was home-schooled, I think."
I leaned forward, letting that information sink in. Then I realized something: I never asked for her name. It hadn't even crossed my mind during the conversation. "By the way," I said, "what's her name? She didn't tell me."
Alice chuckled softly, the sound almost drowned out by the noise on her end. "Her name's Emi," she said. "You should have asked her."
"Yeah," I muttered, shaking my head at myself. "I'll remember next time." She keeps using her ability even in that state. You'd think Amiya would be jealous of her. She went to this pompous academy and still didn't become a hero, despite it not being her fault.
Alice sounded a little off during our call, like she was trying to keep something to herself. She ended it abruptly, saying her train had arrived. I didn't press her on it—whatever was bothering her, she'd tell me when she was ready.
After hanging up, I decided I needed a break from the monotony and went to my favorite cafe for some tea. It was tucked inside an office building, the kind of place you'd miss unless you worked there. To get in, I had to fake being an employee, flashing a confident smile and walking with purpose past the security desk. By now, it was routine—I'd been coming here often enough that I felt like a regular.
This cafe stood out because their "organic" badge wasn't just marketing nonsense; it actually meant something. The mountain berry and Ironwort extract tea was my go-to. It had a delicate, earthy flavor that made every sip feel like a treat.
I thought back to when I was younger. My parents only ever kept black tea in the house. Father was adamant about banning coffee, always ranting about how "they" wanted to get people hooked on it. He said it like coffee was some grand conspiracy.
It was ridiculous, considering black tea was essentially the same thing. I shook my head at the memory. For someone so strict about what he let into the house, my father could be incredibly shortsighted. In hindsight, he was an idiot.
I waited at the desk for my tea to infuse, the leaves steeping to perfection before I'd toss them out. Just as I was beginning to relax, a woman approached and sat down across from me. She had a glow about her, the kind of confidence that was hard to ignore, and she seemed genuinely pleased to see me.
"I'm surprised to see such a handsome man working at this terrible office," she said with a teasing smile.
Her compliment didn't exactly leave an impression. She wasn't unattractive—far from it, actually. Her wavy, shoulder-length hair framed her face nicely, and that confident smile made her stand out. But I wasn't here for attention, let alone flattery.
Still, the situation called for some tact. I shrugged lightly. "Yeah, I suppose I work here."
Her curiosity only grew. "What department are you in?"
Now, that was a tricky one. I didn't exactly have a department, did I? My eyes darted briefly to her badge. Julienne Daçot. A Normandian, judging by the name. She was in Marketing. Perfect.
I figured the best move was to name a department she was unlikely to know well. Something vague enough to avoid suspicion but still plausible.
"I'm with deliveries," I said casually. "Mostly behind the scenes, you know?"
Her brow furrowed slightly, but she seemed intrigued. "Deliveries? Huh, I didn't realize we even had an internal team for that."
I gave a small chuckle, hoping it would pass as nonchalance. "We're not exactly the most visible part of the operation."
Julienne leaned forward slightly, her curiosity piqued. "So, what do you do exactly? Delivering what?"
I paused for a moment before answering, keeping it as close to plausible as possible. "Mostly packets or letters. Some of these older office towers still prefer sending physical mail—especially the ones without fax."
It wasn't an outright lie. While rare, there were still places that clung to old-fashioned practices. Of course, I doubted this office was one of them, but Julienne didn't seem to notice.
"Oh, I see," she said, nodding as if my explanation made perfect sense.
She hesitated for a moment before flashing me another confident smile. "You know, we should go out sometime."
I didn't even blink. "I'm into men."
Her smile faltered for the briefest of seconds, and I could tell she was scrambling to recover. She tried to laugh it off, though the awkwardness was unmistakable. "Oh, I… I meant, you know, just as friends!"
Her voice lacked the usual confidence, and her attempt to pivot felt weak, almost half-hearted. She wasn't fooling anyone, least of all herself. I took a sip of my tea, letting the moment linger just a little longer than necessary.
As I walked through the bustling streets, Emily suddenly chimed in, her voice calm but dissonantly casual: "That was a man."
I froze mid-step, nearly spilling my tea. "What are you talking about?" I muttered, keeping my voice low. The idea seemed absurd.
Emily elaborated, "The Aptamer sensors picked up male hormones. And another thing: his skin is covered in a plastic layer."
I frowned, my mind racing. "Plastic? What does that even mean?"
"Not sure," Emily admitted. "But it suggests he was wearing something artificial to pass as a woman. Like a prosthetic or a mask."
I stared blankly at the ground for a moment, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. A rubber mask, like something out of a spy movie? That would explain the overly smooth texture of their skin—an observation I hadn't paid much attention to earlier.
"But why? And who would go to such lengths to pretend to work in an office just to talk to me?" I asked aloud, half to myself, half to Emily.
"I doubt he even worked there," she replied, her tone thoughtful. "Something about him was... off. Too deliberate."
The implications churned in my mind. If this person wasn't who they claimed to be, what was their goal? Was this some elaborate surveillance attempt, or worse, a trap?
My thoughts turned briefly to Sophie, but I dismissed the idea. Her ability didn't work like that—her skin wasn't plastic, and she wouldn't need a disguise. No, this was someone else entirely.
A stranger in a plastic disguise, going out of their way to meet me. And that whole 'going out' offer. It wanted to ambush me.
The tea in my hand suddenly felt far less comforting.-*-*-*-*-*
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DATE:12th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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Today, I decided it was time to train with my team again. I couldn't afford to take on everything myself like last time.
When I arrived, I found Ulkip, the girl from Chou, and Amelia already stretching.
"Are we doing power training today?" Ulkip asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.
I shook my head. "We can't really practice something like that. Either I beat you before you can blink, or you hit me before I activate my ability. Not exactly a fair matchup."
He grinned and suggested we spar again instead.
I was tired of fighting him, so I turned to the girl from Chou. "You should join this time."
She straightened up and replied, "My name's Hui."
"Then start showing up on time if you want me to remember it," I shot back, my tone cold. "People could've died."
She didn't say anything after that.
As we prepared to start, the Inquisitor arrived, looking as out of place as ever in her formal attire.
"I heard you'd be training today," she said, her voice carrying a mix of authority and curiosity. "I wanted to see your ability in action."
Her interest didn't surprise me—everyone seemed intrigued by the concept of stopping time. But having her around was bound to complicate things. I gave her a nod, acknowledging her presence without much enthusiasm.
I stood ready as both Ulkip and Hui came at me simultaneously. Taking a stance I learned from a mercenary in Chou—the "Way of the Open Hand"—I spread my arms slightly and shifted my weight. This technique, designed to occupy more space and focus on destabilizing quick knockouts, was unconventional but effective in the right situations. Hui, who was also from Chou, might recognize it.
The style had its quirks: effective against novices, redundant against those moderately skilled, and oddly successful against some elite fighters due to its unpredictability.
Ulkip charged first, closing the distance with impressive speed. I slapped him hard across the temple—a classic destabilizing move that made him stumble to the side, dazed. Hui, seeing her opportunity, tried to flank me, but I quickly countered with the "trachea nail stab." Even with my nails trimmed, the precision and force of the strike caused her to collapse, gasping for air.
Anyone watching might find it strange that I, physically weaker than them, was handling these two so easily. The truth was simple: their strength didn't matter if their weak points remained unguarded. Moves like these—targeting nerves, cartilage, or airways—didn't work on people like Alice or SuperiorWoman, whose bodies were reinforced to the point where such attacks were meaningless. But Ulkip and Hui? They were just under that threshold. And about it, is it related to age or perhaps some kind of inherent talent? So strange.
Of course, the same strikes would have been lethal to a normal human—one potentially causing brain damage, the other a crushed trachea. For these two, the effects were temporary: a brief stun at most. But the difference was clear.
I glanced over at Emi. She watched me with an unreadable expression, saying nothing.
I shook my head, looking at the two of them sprawled on the ground. "You need to protect your weak points better," I said firmly, gesturing toward Ulkip's temple and Hui's neck. "Strength doesn't mean much if you're leaving yourself wide open."
As they began to rise, Emi's voice cut through the air, sharp with curiosity. "How do you know a special forces style from Chou?" It's good that I don't have the Hao suit anymore, less they might think I was some kind of spy.
I glanced at her, shrugging as casually as I could. "I once met a guy," I said, leaving the details deliberately vague.
They both seemed determined to redeem themselves, so I prompted, "Come at me again."
This time, they were more cautious. Hui moved first, circling me like a predator, while Ulkip hung back, waiting for an opening. It was clear they weren't going to fall for the same tricks again.
Hui darted in with a low sweeping kick. I stepped back just enough to avoid it, then redirected her momentum with a move from *Tai Chi*—a precise *ward-off* technique. Using her energy against her, I shifted her to the side and broke her balance, causing her to stumble awkwardly.
At that moment, Ulkip lunged in with a straight punch, aiming for my center mass. I turned slightly, deflecting his strike with a *mantis-style hook block*. His momentum left his ribs exposed, and I delivered a short but forceful *phoenix-eye fist* strike to his side. It wasn't enough to break anything, but it made him stagger back, clutching at the sensitive spot.
Hui recovered quickly and came at me again, this time with a series of rapid strikes targeting my upper body. She was quick, but I switched to a *crane-style defense*, using sweeping arm movements to parry her attacks while maintaining fluidity. I closed the distance and delivered a *white crane spreads its wings* technique, a sharp palm strike to her shoulder that knocked her off balance once more.
Ulkip tried to capitalize on the distraction, aiming a powerful kick at my legs. I shifted into a *snake-style evasion*, stepping to the side and bending low to avoid the strike. From that position, I countered with a *coiling dragon kick*—a low, sweeping kick that caught him just above the ankle, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Both of them were down again, breathing heavily. Ok, I admit. Most of the moves were invented. But the first two I did learn from that mercenary.
I straightened, brushing off my sleeves as they groaned on the floor. "Not bad," I said, looking between them. "But you're still thinking too straightforward. Adapt, observe, and stop underestimating your opponent."
Emi watched silently, her expression a mix of curiosity and quiet appraisal.
Amelia comes out giggling and also challenges me to a fight.
She stood across from me, her posture relaxed yet deceptively sharp. She was giggling like this was all a game. But I had learned the hard way not to underestimate someone based on appearances.
She raised her fists, her stance tight and measured—classic boxing form. I mirrored her stance, more out of necessity than preference. Normally, I'd try to counter a boxer with grappling or throws, but given her physical superiority, that would be suicidal. Instead, I decided to focus on defense and study her moves.
I barely had time to assess before she snapped forward with a lightning-fast jab. It sailed clean past my guard and landed square on my face, snapping my head back. Pain blossomed in my nose as I stumbled a step.
Amelia laughed, light and carefree, as if this were all a joke. "What's wrong? That hurt?"
I wiped at my face, shaking off the sting. "Not really," I muttered, more for my pride than anything else.
She threw another jab, but this time I weaved under it, slipping past her punch and countering with an uppercut aimed at her jaw. My fist connected cleanly, but the result was underwhelming. She barely flinched, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I might've hurt my own hand more than her.
"That tickled," she teased, grinning widely.
Before I could reset, she stepped in with a barrage of punches. Left, right, left—they came fast and heavy, each one targeting a gap in my defense. I managed to block most of them, but her power was undeniable. Each impact rattled my guard, forcing me to retreat step by step.
I tried to counter with a hook to her ribs, but she leaned back effortlessly, avoiding it while stepping into my space. Her next blow was a devastating body shot—a hook that drove into my side like a sledgehammer. My breath left me in a painful rush, and I doubled over instinctively.
She didn't let up. A swift uppercut followed, snapping my head back and sending me staggering. My vision blurred for a moment, and I could hear her laughing again, clearly enjoying herself.
"Come on, you're supposed to be tough!" she teased, bouncing lightly on her feet as if this were all a warm-up.
I tried to rally, stepping in with a desperate straight punch aimed at her face. She sidestepped it effortlessly, grabbing my arm and yanking me forward. Off-balance, I could do nothing as she delivered a quick one-two combination to my chest and then finished with a spinning backfist that caught me on the temple. This wasn't the kind of opponent I could defeat with technique.
The world spun, and I found myself on the ground, blinking up at the sky. Amelia stood over me, hands on her hips, still grinning like this had been a delightful exercise.
"You're not bad," she said, offering me a hand to help me up. "But maybe stick to fighting Ulkip and Hui, huh?"
I groaned, accepting her hand and pulling myself to my feet. My pride was bruised, and so was everything else. "Yeah," I muttered. "Maybe."
Emi was watching from the sidelines, arms crossed and a small smirk on her face. "That was… enlightening," she said dryly.
Amelia laughed again, patting me on the shoulder hard enough to make me wince. "Don't feel bad. Not everyone can keep up with me."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Right, but there was something more important. The professor couldn't replace my Hao suit as it's not his technology and at the same time I found the temporary set-up he gave me of a black blue with cameras a bit unappealing.
He did say he would give me better equipment after he gets my size right, but I was more concerned than anything else. I never let him measure me. Perhaps when he was doing those brain scans or installing the Injector? I am not sure.
I email the professor to remind him I couldn't wear his bulky vests.
I went straight to the apartment after that and put some creme on my bruises. It was very annoying. There also was a letter from the tower administrator to check up on the residents. They will come tomorrow. It will be strange without Alice. Hopefully I am not considered a thief.-*-*-*-*-*