A B-Rank Ability? No Thanks

The plane landed at Dublin Airport. The moment the cabin door opened, a cold wind carrying the tang of the sea cut through Angel Salvadore's thin coat, making her shiver.

She wrapped her arms around herself, her fingertips icy. She hated the damp cold that seeped into her bones. She hated even more that she had no say in where she went, carried from place to place like luggage by a mysterious man she had met less than a day ago.

But she had no choice. The Hellfire Club would not let her go, and the man called Chu Hang was the only thing keeping her afloat.

Chu Hang picked up their small amount of luggage and walked out of the cabin without a change in expression, seemingly oblivious to the wind.

Angel hurried after him, watching his steady back with mixed feelings. He was powerful enough to crush the Black King with ease, yet as cold as ancient ice.

Their taxi pulled away from the airport. The driver, a friendly bearded man, asked where they were going in a thick accent.

"City center. Drop us off anywhere," Chu Hang said.

Beyond the window, stretches of green fields and the silhouettes of distant castles sped past.

Chu Hang closed his eyes. His vast psychic power spread like an invisible tide, enveloping all of Dublin in an instant.

Hundreds of thousands of points of consciousness lit up and faded in his mind. He sifted through them at astonishing speed, filtering out every ordinary mind as he searched for one unusual, powerful source of energy.

Angel watched him nervously, scarcely daring to breathe. She had seen Chu Hang fight, but she had never been this close while he used such an uncanny means of detection. Her awe of him deepened.

Less than