Vector's Non-Contact Delivery

Temugin was the type of person terrorist organizations adored: fierce, fanatical, and daring, always willing to serve as cannon fodder. His charge through the defensive lines, wreathed in flames and explosions, aligned perfectly with the Spear Bureau's psychological profile: this young militant was desperate for validation, leading him to act with excessive zeal and recklessness. However, the files had made no mention of Temugin possessing the ability to manipulate fire or trigger explosions.

Once Saber engaged Temugin with his alloy saber, it took Xiang Qian only two or three exchanges to realize that the intelligence report wasn't necessarily wrong; Temugin's fire manipulation wasn't innate, but rather augmented by an external source. The flames dancing in the air followed the movements of Temugin's right hand, where a bizarrely shaped ruby ring stood out prominently on his index finger.

"The Ten Rings," Xiang Qian muttered, the relevant data immediately surfacing in his mind.

As the one in the thick of the fight, Saber understood the situation better than the bystander Xiang Qian. He not only discovered that Temugin relied on the ring to control the flames, but also noted that his opponent was far from proficient in its use. Whenever Temugin was distracted by Saber's attacks, the flow of fire would turn sluggish, sometimes even dissipating entirely. Meanwhile, Temugin couldn't conjure explosions at will; he seemed to require a few seconds of preparation before each detonation.

Saber lived up to his reputation as an all-around elite soldier, seizing upon Temugin's weakness the moment he identified it. Within three or four exchanges, Temugin found himself struggling. His opponent, wielding a pair of cold-steel long blades, always managed to dodge the fire and explosions at the perfect moment while occupying the blind spots of his ring-bearing hand.

Temugin knew he was in trouble. The ring on his right hand was undeniably powerful, but he couldn't wield it with ease. Every time he fired a blast or triggered an explosion, he needed a moment of focus to ensure success and potency. Yet, his opponent's alloy blades were made of a strange material that ignored the shockwaves and heat, and every strike disrupted his concentration—his rhythm was being dismantled piece by piece.

As Xiang Qian, the only idle person on the scene, watched the battle, he suddenly heard someone running up behind him. He turned to see Vector, who had returned.

"Why are you back?" Xiang Qian frowned, asking with some dissatisfaction. Even if she wasn't a soldier, he disliked those who failed to follow orders on the battlefield.

Vector was clutching a Type 06 Pistol, panting as she ran: "The administrative staff have evacuated safely, so I came back to help."

Xiang Qian looked down and saw that the hand holding the gun was white at the knuckles from gripping it too tightly; she was clearly terrified. He sighed helplessly and placed his palm over the barrel: "You'd better not use that gun. If you use it like this, your own teammates will be the ones most nervous."

Vector felt her hand lighten as the Type 06 slipped into Xiang Qian's grip. Before she could react, she felt a large hand brush against her waist, and amidst her startled cry, he swiped two spare magazines from her tactical belt. The rookie was both angry and embarrassed, her face flushing red as she cursed inwardly: Has this guy been a thief before? He's way too fast at swiping things.

The Type 06 was a suppressed pistol, its report much quieter than standard military sidearms. Vector heard only a few rapid, rhythmic "pats," and in a matter of seconds, Xiang Qian had emptied half a magazine.

"Do you even know how to use a gun... give it back!" Vector demanded in a low voice.

Xiang Qian didn't even look back, raising the gun to fire another burst, emptying the remaining rounds. Where the shots landed, three militants over twenty meters away were struck in the head in quick succession, leaving Vector stunned. Only after the magazine was empty did Xiang Qian crouch down to reload, deliberately asking Vector with an unreadable expression: "What did you say to me just now?"

I... I told you that showing off gets you struck by lightning, you believe me now? Vector thought, her face burning with rage as she screamed internally.

Suddenly, an urgent warning crackled through the earpiece: "Command, ten o'clock position, enemy Javelin emplacement... Xiang Qian, they've spotted you!"

Xiang Qian poked his head out and saw two militants in the distance aiming their Javelin launchers at his position. Two missiles soared into the sky, trailing clear exhaust plumes. Xiang Qian's heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively reached into his pocket to press a large metal ring. Just then, he heard Vector's crisp voice: "I've got this."

Vector crouched, her back slightly arched—a posture of pure, subconscious focus. She reached out toward the missiles, which had reached their apex and were beginning to dive. Two portals, wreathed in black mist, flashed into existence, precisely intercepting the missiles' flight path.

The two missiles whistled downward, plunging straight into the portals, which opened directly above the Javelin emplacement. Before the two militants could even process where their missiles had gone, they were blown to pieces by two thunderous explosions.

Xiang Qian calmly returned the Sling Ring to his pocket and offered a half-hearted compliment: "Hmm, not bad... you'll definitely make a fine field agent—as long as you don't hold a gun."