Face-Stepping

In the midst of the thick smoke, a silhouette emerged. With a wave of an arm, the billowing dust was swept away as if by a hurricane, instantly clearing the air.

Before them stood two unharmed girls. Not only were they unscathed, but even the villa behind them remained intact, without a single sign of damage.

"How is this possible?" The middle-aged man was stunned, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

The soldiers behind him were equally shocked, their eyes wide as if they had seen a ghost. Many began to feel weak in the knees, barely able to hold onto their guns.

"Fire! Fire!" The middle-aged man snapped back to reality, shouting angrily.

The soldiers, as if awakening from a dream, gripped their weapons and resumed their attack. With the rapid "rat-a-tat" of gunfire, bullets once again poured toward the girls.

Tanks and helicopters joined the fray, and the villa was once more shrouded in smoke and fire.

But what happened next left them utterly dumbfounded.

The silver-haired girl raised her alabaster arm, her palm facing the oncoming attacks. The bullets, shells, and even missiles seemed to strike an invisible barrier, floating in mid-air, unable to advance further.

In no time, a dense array of bullets and shells gathered before the silver-haired girl, enough to obscure her figure, creating a truly spectacular sight.

The soldiers were numb with disbelief, mechanically pulling their triggers, reloading, and repeating the cycle as if in a trance.

"There are limits to how much you can push your luck! Do you think I'm a sick cat just because I haven't shown my claws?"

As she spoke, the bullets floating before the silver-haired girl reversed direction, shooting back with lightning speed, even faster than when they were fired.

"Pffft! Pffft! Pffft!"

Blood splattered.

The sound of bodies being pierced rang out in quick succession, followed by screams and cries of pain. Soldiers fell to the ground, clutching their wounds, blood seeping through their fingers, turning the grass beneath them a deep crimson.

In a mere instant, half the battalion was wiped out.

Seeing the carnage, the middle-aged man suddenly realized he had made a grave mistake. This was an adversary he could not handle. Someone who had single-handedly defeated the entire Pacific Fleet could hardly be bothered by a mere battalion. His intestines twisted with regret; if given another chance, he would never have made such a foolish decision.

"You seem to have misunderstood the situation." Kaguya stepped lightly toward the middle-aged man, extending her hand. With a grasp of her palm, a distant tank crumpled like a wad of clay, collapsing with a "bang" into a heap of scrap metal.

Kaguya approached the middle-aged man, who was trying to appear composed but was far from the commanding figure he had been moments before. Regret filled his heart. If only he hadn't been so hasty in giving the order, things wouldn't have spiraled out of control.

It wasn't fear that gripped him; in his line of work, he had long put aside thoughts of life and death. His will was as strong as steel; no torture could make him waver. What he hated was that his rash decision might bring serious disaster upon the country.

The silver-haired girl standing before him had powers beyond human comprehension. Guns, cannons, even missiles couldn't harm her. Perhaps only a nuclear weapon could pose a threat. Provoking someone so dangerous could lead to catastrophic consequences. Initially, she hadn't intended to be their enemy.

But because of his eagerness to achieve merit, wanting to capture the girl quickly, he had caused an unprecedented disaster. Not only had his comrades perished, but the nation might also suffer enormous losses.

Regret filled his heart.

As the middle-aged man's thoughts raced, Kaguya had already reached him, frowning at his forced calmness.

The middle-aged man gritted his teeth, glaring at Kaguya with the resolve of a martyr. His expression annoyed Kaguya. Clearly, they had attacked first, so why was he acting as if she was the villain?

With a swift kick, as quick as white lightning, Kaguya struck his abdomen. The middle-aged man grunted, unable to suppress a mouthful of spittle, clutching his stomach as he fell to his knees.

Coughing, he looked up, his face red but unyielding.

"Go ahead and kill me; I won't surrender."

"Surrender, my ass!"

Kaguya was already irritated; his words only fanned her anger. How dare someone who attacked without reason have the gall to say such things?

She kicked again, harder this time. Her white, smooth leg lashed out like a bolt of lightning.

The middle-aged man felt a rush of wind and a sharp pain on his face. His body flew backward, landing heavily on the ground.

Kaguya's kick, though restrained, left the middle-aged man dazed, unable to rise for a moment.

He tried to stand, but before he could, a foot pressed down on his face, forcing it into the dirt. The intense humiliation turned his face crimson.

"You bast—"

Before he could curse, Kaguya pressed down harder, pinning him to the ground.

"The weaker they are, the more arrogant they become," Kaguya said irritably. "I even flipped an aircraft carrier. Did you think your ragtag bunch could defeat me?"

The middle-aged man ignored her, pushing against the ground, trying to rise. With a light stomp, Kaguya kept the high-ranking security officer pinned down.

At that moment, Qiao Xiaoqing, stunned by Kaguya's display of power, snapped back to reality and ran over.

"Kaguya."

Qiao Xiaoqing's lips moved, but she said nothing. She had intended to plead for the soldiers, but their actions were too outrageous, attempting to destroy them indiscriminately. Anyone would be furious; even she was still angry.

If not for Kaguya's strength, she might not have survived.

But seeing the carnage, the blood-soaked scene, she felt a pang of worry. Though Kaguya was incredibly powerful, she was just one person, unable to withstand the might of a massive state machine.