Chapter 139: The Prelude of Ink [Moon Ticket Bonus]

Boom!

At the very instant Vivian and Liu Ma were thrown back by Tian Dao’s Ink Barrier, the visual style of the scene underwent a dramatic shift.

Centered on Tian Dao, the camera—like strings pulled by an invisible hand—began rotating around him in a seamless, choreographed motion. The battle, once a raw clash of power, was suddenly transformed into something resembling a meticulously staged theatrical performance.

In a triangular formation, Chen Kong and the others closed in. Liu Ma’s golden fists tore through the air, each strike radiating a crushing force that shook the very fabric of the Kong energy. Vivian’s silver-white blade became a blur of light, its sharp shink cutting through the air with such precision it almost seemed tangible. Meanwhile, Chen Kong’s black bullets shattered the sound barrier, trailing faint wisps of white smoke as they streaked straight for Tian Dao’s core.

Though it was their first time fighting together, the three moved with the flawless synchronization of perfectly meshed gears. Perfection enveloped every possible escape route, leaving Tian Dao no room to dodge.

Yet, faced with this onslaught, Tian Dao moved like a dancer in a graceful solo. He barely shifted his stance, his wrist flicking with effortless elegance as the ink-wrapped Shattering Star slashed through the air in fluid arcs.

Liu Ma’s golden fist was effortlessly deflected by the ink blade. Vivian’s slender sword grazed Tian Dao’s moon-white commander’s uniform again and again—close, but never quite cutting. Chen Kong’s bullets were cleanly severed by the blade’s precise strikes.

And every clash—the sharp ring of metal, the thunderous thud of fists meeting Kong energy, the soft clink of bullets hitting the ground—fell perfectly in time with the background piano melody.

But then, as the high notes of the piano faded, the music shifted.

The once-heroic theme that had accompanied the protagonists now dissolved into a darker, heavier score—no longer a battle anthem, but a solemn overture for Ink.

The rhythm grew heavier. The sword movements accelerated, yet carried an increasing weight. What had once been a challenging barrage now felt overwhelming.

Liu Ma and Vivian, who had barely faltered before, now struggled to hold their ground.

And perhaps to mirror the team’s mounting despair, the piano’s low, echoing notes slowly built toward a final, solemn chord.

Boom!

As the last note vanished into silence, Tian Dao finally stopped defending.

His Shattering Star drew a long, flowing trail of ink across the air. With strokes like calligraphy in motion—wild, powerful, and precise—he struck Liu Ma, Vivian, and Chen Kong in succession.

Liu Ma’s body flew like a broken puppet, crashing through the wall in a storm of debris and dust. He vanished into the rubble without a trace.

Vivian had already switched to her minute-long sword, which plunged deep into the ground. Dragging her body across the floor, she carved a long trench before finally coming to rest—wedged between fractured steel beams.

Chen Kong was swept aside by a wave of ink-laden force. He stumbled into a towering pile of rubble, too dazed to rise.

The screen showed a single, devastating blow—three teammates down in an instant.

The comments froze.

They’d expected unity to be the key. They’d believed, as countless animes had taught them, that teamwork would crack even the strongest villain. That Ink would fall, humbled by the power of friendship.

But Reality was colder than ice.

Because Chen Kong and the others hadn’t just failed to defeat Ink. Their struggle had done nothing more than delay the inevitable. That was all.

Standing over the fallen, Tian Dao showed no triumph—only quiet acknowledgment.

“You’re strong,” he said, calmly sheathing the Shattering Star. “If today had been someone else—another squad captain—your chances of victory would’ve been real.”

He paused.

“After all, even among captains, there’s a gap. I may lead the Fifth Squad, but in raw power, I rank within the top three across the entire Steam Capital. Losing to me? That’s not disgrace.”

There was no pride in his voice—just the calm certainty of fact.

He stepped toward Vivian, flicked his wrist, and a series of ink ropes lashed out, binding her tightly.

With her wounds already fresh and now worsened by the restraint, Vivian had no strength left. She could only let him lift her onto his shoulder.

Turning to Liu Ma and Chen Kong, who stared at him with burning frustration, Tian Dao exhaled.

“By the Association’s rules, anyone who attacks a Stellar Envoy is treated as a direct challenge to the Authority. Death is permitted.”

He paused.

“But rules are rigid. People aren’t. I understand your drive to save your friend. I respect the effort you’ve made.”

He looked down at the small girl.

“So for today… I’ll pretend I didn’t see it. Dannika.”

“Here!”

Dannika sprang from her chair like a nimble creature, sprinted to Tian Dao’s side, and snapped into a crisp salute. Her small face was serious, eyes bright.

“Update the mission log—only keep the part about me taking the wanted criminal Vivian.”

“Yes!”

From her backpack, she pulled out a notebook etched with faint starlight patterns. She whispered a few words over it.

Instantly, the text on the page writhed like living ink—then settled into a single, clean line:

“Shuimo, mission complete.”

“Good job,” Tian Dao said, smiling slightly. “I’ll reward you with a few packs of snacks later.”

“Ehehe~”

With Dannika calmed, Tian Dao turned back to the fallen.

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice soft but firm. “Within my power, I’ll do everything I can to clear your friend’s name. But I can’t promise the outcome.”

He looked down at the wreckage around him.

“Because this storm sweeping across Steam Capital… even I, a squad captain, can’t promise to stay untouched.”

With that, he shouldered Vivian and walked away, Dannika bouncing happily beside him.

Throughout the walk, Liu Ma and Chen Kong tried—fiercely—to rise. But pain shot through their limbs with every twitch. They could barely move a finger.

They watched, helpless, as the calm, gentle figure vanished into the distance.

A crushing sense of helplessness washed over them—like a tide.

And with it, the last remnants of their pride as Stellar Prodigies faded.

Until today, they’d relied on the power of Dual Stars, effortlessly crushing peers and even defeating enemies far above their rank. They’d grown arrogant. They’d believed only another Stellar Prodigy was worthy of their fight.

But Ink—Fifth Squad’s captain—had shown them the cold truth.

Yes, Stellar Prodigies had immense potential. But not everyone could reach their full power like Tian Dao, or Chen Xing.

Not everyone could perfectly merge the Stellar Core and Stellar Source into one.

“Damn kid,” came a gruff voice from the shadows. “Told you to train in the club back then. Now you know what it feels like to hurt.”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end