Lu Mingxu's fingers froze above his tablet as a drone exploded outside his hacker den, the blast rattling the grimy windows of a derelict warehouse in Shanghai's Yangpu district. Sparks lit the night, Bei Xiwen's latest toy reduced to scrap by his own countermeasures—rigged to keep her spies out. Her voice still burned in his head from the temple: Finish her, Mingxu. No mistakes. But Jingran Huo, bloodied and grinning at the Bund, had slipped his trap again, clutching that damn jade seal. Now, his tablet glowed with Meilin's viral video—Jingran's runes blazing, tagged #TrashHeiress—and Mingxu's gut twisted. He'd pushed Jingran into Xiwen's claws, but why did it feel like he was the one cornered?
"Sloppy," he muttered, shoving his glasses up his nose. "Whole city's watching her now."
A glitchy hologram flickered beside him—his AI assistant, patched together from HuoTech scraps. "Error: Your heart rate's spiking, boss," it droned, its pixelated fox face smirking. "Regret detected?"
Mingxu snorted, tossing a screwdriver at it. "Regret's for suckers. Debug yourself."
The den was a chaos of cables, cracked monitors, and jury-rigged servers, hidden beneath Yangpu's abandoned factories. It was his fortress, his rebellion—against Xiwen's leash, his Lu clan's expectations, and the sorcery tying him to Jingran's pendant. He'd hacked her seal's signal at HuoTech's ruins, set the Bund ambush, but her defiance—Round three, nerd?—hit harder than he'd admit. She wasn't the Huo failure he'd expected.
His tablet pinged, pulling him back—an encrypted message from Xiwen: You failed. Bund's mine. Find her, or you're next. A fox emoji mocked him.
Mingxu's jaw clenched. "Bossy witch," he whispered, fingers flying to trace her signal—Pudong, her temple, no surprise. But another ping hit, untraceable: Stop playing, Mingxu. She's not yours. No emoji, just threat.
He froze, glasses fogging with sweat. Not Xiwen—her style was flashier. Zhao Wenxu, maybe, that Suzhou snake Meilin bragged about on X. Or someone worse, tied to the Jade Protocol. Mingxu's memories—murky, spell-bound—flashed: a Lu elder, years ago, warning him, The pendant's ours. Guard it, or burn.
"Guard it?" Mingxu muttered, rubbing his temple. He'd tampered with HuoTech's servers as a teen, hiding the pendant's data from his clan, from Xiwen. Jingran's survival was his fault, and he wasn't sure if that was victory or failure.
The hologram chirped, "Incoming—X post. Meilin Huo's trending again. Quote: 'Jingran's lies burn tonight.'"
Mingxu scowled, pulling up Meilin's feed. Her latest video painted Jingran as a sorceress, twisting the Bund fight into a scandal. Shanghai's elite were eating it—#HuoLegacy spiking—but Meilin's glee screamed setup. She wasn't just Xiwen's pawn; she was Zhao's, and Mingxu hated being outplayed.
"Meilin's loud," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Time to turn up my volume."
He dove into his servers, hacking X's backend to trace Meilin's posts. IPs led to Xintiandi—Eclipse club, Zhao's haunt. Another led to HuoTech's old firewall, active despite the ruins. "Jingran's there," he whispered, heart racing. She'd accessed the Jade Protocol Core at the Bund—partially, his trap ensured that—but the ley lines' hum meant she was close to more.
His tablet buzzed, a live feed hacked from Bund cameras: Jingran, bloodied, seal glowing, facing his shadow. He'd fled, but her words—speedrun this—stuck. She trusted him, once, as HuoTech's intern, before Xiwen's spells bound him. Now, he was her enemy, or was he?
The hologram flickered. "Alert: Bei sorcery spike—ley lines unstable. Xiwen's moving."
Mingxu's gut sank. Xiwen's temple ritual—tying Shanghai's tech to her clan—was accelerating, fueled by the Bund's failure. Jingran's Core fragment threatened that, and Xiwen wouldn't stop at constructs. He hacked her temple's wards, catching a glimpse: Xiwen chanting, runes blazing, a new figure—Zhao?—in the shadows.
"Zhao," Mingxu hissed, confirming it. The Suzhou clan was circling, and Meilin's files were bait, drawing Jingran to a bigger trap. He could warn her—text her, like at the estate—but Xiwen's leash tightened, her spell itching under his skin.
He pulled a burner phone, typing: Jingran, ditch the Bund. Trap's bigger than you think. He hesitated, thumb over send. Helping her meant betraying Xiwen, maybe Zhao, maybe his clan. But her grin—defiant, alive—burned brighter than any spell.
"Screw it," he muttered, hitting send. The hologram smirked, and he flipped it off.
The den's lights flickered, servers whining. A low growl—not tech, not human—rumbled outside. Mingxu grabbed a stun baton, rigged with his own rune hacks, and checked his feeds. A fox construct—Xiwen's, smaller but vicious—prowled the warehouse lot, eyes locked on his door.
"Really?" Mingxu groaned, gripping the baton. "I'm on her naughty list now?"
He activated his defenses—EMP traps, rune wards—but the construct smashed through, claws sparking against steel. Mingxu dove behind a server, baton humming, and fired a rune pulse, staggering the fox. Its eyes glowed, Xiwen's voice hissing: "Traitor, Mingxu. You're mine."
"Nope," he quipped, dodging a tail. "I'm freelance, witch."
The fight was brutal—cables snapped, monitors shattered. Mingxu's runes held, banishing the fox in a burst of sparks, but his den was trashed, servers smoking. He panted, baton sparking, and checked his tablet—Jingran's signal, moving from the Bund, alive.
"Good girl," he whispered, but the untraceable ping hit again: You chose wrong, Lu.
Mingxu's blood ran cold. Not Xiwen, not Zhao. Someone deeper, tied to the Protocol—his clan? He grabbed his gear, heart pounding, and bolted. Jingran needed him, and Shanghai was burning.
Fog clung to the Bund as Huo Jingran faced Lu Mingxu's shadow, her jade seal blazing against the Huangpu's glow. His tablet runes faded, his ambush stalled, but her leg and back bled, mana drain fogging her mind. Teng Haoran fired his proto-gun, covering her, while Shao Lanyi hacked the Core's fragment, ley lines humming beneath. Xiwen's constructs were gone, but Mingxu's words—Not enough—rang true. The Core wasn't hers yet.
"Speedrun, huh?" Jingran quipped, seal raised. "You're lagging, nerd."
Haoran grabbed her arm, blood on his sleeve. "He's stalling, Jingran. Core's unstable—move!"
Lanyi shouted, laptop glowing, "Fragment's locked—ley lines spiking! We've got minutes!"
Jingran's pendant blared: Jade Whisper alert: Task—Stabilize Core fragment. Mingxu's interference—hostile intent unclear. Success chance: 60%.
"Sixty?" Jingran groaned, runes flaring. "My crit rate's in the gutter!"
Focus, Host. Seal's runes can counter Mingxu's hack.
She threw a shield rune, blocking Mingxu's tablet pulse. He smirked, dodging Haoran's shot, and vanished into fog, leaving a rune trap—sparks crawling toward the Core.
"Cute trick," Jingran muttered, limping to the riverbank. She slammed the seal against the Core's rune, light surging. Pain stabbed her skull, but the trap fizzled, ley lines calming. The system chimed: Fragment stabilized—partial control. New task: Secure Core's location.
Jingran slumped, panting. "Partial? Xiwen's nerfing my endgame."
Haoran scanned the fog, gun ready. "Mingxu's gone—for now. We're exposed."
Lanyi's phone buzzed, an X post—Meilin's video, viral: Jingran's sorcery exposed. #HuoLegacy. Comments tore her apart—witch, fraud, danger.
Jingran's grin was fierce, despite the sting. "Meilin's got no chill."
Her pendant hummed, and a text hit her burner: Ditch the Bund. Trap's bigger. No sender, but Mingxu's vibe screamed through.
She froze, meeting Haoran's eyes. "Mingxu's playing both sides?"
Lanyi frowned, hacking traces. "Signal's Yangpu—underworld den. He's close."
Jingran gripped the seal, runes glinting. The Core pulsed, whispering a location—Pudong, deep. Xiwen's temple. Her phone buzzed again, anonymous: Run, Huo. I'm coming.
Jingran's blood ran cold, but she laughed, sharp. "Bring it, whoever you are."