Emma Frost's pupils were still trembling, and the "17.4" that popped out of her mouth was like a red-hot wire that had just been stuffed into Ye Mo's brain when the three dark figures opposite her moved.
It wasn't a test; it was an attempt to strangle them.
The hood in front of him flipped up, and a serrated blade on his elbow popped out with a "whoosh," half a length longer than before, its tip crackling with blue-purple electricity. It shattered the paving stones with one step, heading straight for Captain America's throat—but that slash wasn't aimed at his vital spot, it was aimed at an old wound! His left shoulder had just stopped bleeding, and if this blow landed, his entire arm would be ruined.
Ye Mo didn't have time to think.
All he knew was that he couldn't let the captain fall.
He pushed off with his feet, shifting half a step to the side, slamming into the captain like a steel plate. At the same time, he raised his right arm sharply, his forearm meeting the electric arc's serrated edge head-on.
"Clang--!"
The instant the Mars exploded, he heard a soft "crack" from his bones, like steel bars being twisted to their limit. The impact pushed upwards along his bones, making his Delia tingle and his ears ring. But he didn't back down; his feet were firmly planted on the spot, the soles of his shoes carving two shallow grooves in the concrete.
Steel Bone Body, activated.
His skin hardened rapidly, the bone density in his shoulders and back increased dramatically, and a layer of dark gray metallic armor spread from his collarbone to his spine, as if someone had poured liquid steel into his body. The serrated blade was stuck in his forearm bone, crackling and burning the sleeves of his hoodie, but he just couldn't cut through it.
"Huh?" Ye Mo grinned, his teeth still glistening with dust from the alley. "Dude, your knife... it's dull."
Before the words were even finished, the enemies on both sides moved. One swept a low sweep across the back of the shield's neck, while the other lunged from an angle, unleashing three alloy spikes from his palm that pierced the gap in the ribs.
Emma Frost stood on the other side of the captain, her face as white as paper, but she didn't stop talking. "Three o'clock position, right leg thrust forward, prepare to sweep the back of the shield's neck; directly in front, elbow blade recharge, release within two seconds."
Ye Mo pinpointed the location of the sound, slammed his left foot into the ground, and used the recoil to slam his back into the overturned bench. The bench back snapped with a "crack," sending wood chips flying, but he used the impact to dissipate some of the force, and then raised his knee to strike the attacker's groin on the right. The man groaned, his movements slightly halted, and the three alloy spikes deflected an inch, grazing his work pants and leaving three gashes.
"Thanks!" Ye Mo roared, his right fist clenched, and he smashed it towards the face of the enemy in front of him.
The other party didn't dodge, letting him punch the bridge of his nose. But the flesh on that face didn't move, only a dark red line flashed on its neck, like an electrical circuit restarting. Then, it grabbed Ye Mo's wrist with its left hand, and the serrated blade on its right arm began to vibrate at a high frequency, clearly trying to grind his Steel Bone off with the vibration.
"Damn it, still not giving up?" Ye Mo gritted his teeth, his arm in Steel Bone State suddenly expanded, forcefully opening the serrated blade, and he delivered a backhand elbow strike to the opponent's temple. This would have splattered anyone else's brains, but the man's head simply tilted, his hood slipped completely off, revealing a bloodless face—cloudy eyes, cracked lips, he was practically a moving corpse.
"I said... who among you arranged the funerals for these brothers?" Ye Mo asked, panting, glancing back at the captain while keeping an eye on the other two approaching. "The funeral shrouds must have been expensive, right? The fabric doesn't look like the kind you'd find on Pinduoduo 9.9 yuan with free shipping."
Captain America stood leaning against his shield, blood still seeping from his left shoulder, but his eyes remained focused. He gave a slight smirk. "Once we win, I'll treat them to a good meal."
"Forget about treating us, let's save our lives first." Emma Frost's voice was weak, but she didn't collapse. Her hands hung at her sides, her fingertips trembling slightly. "The one on the left, the frequency of his muscle fiber contractions has changed. We need to change our tactics."
As soon as he finished speaking, the enemy on the left suddenly lowered his body, his right leg's mechanical joint snapped and reversed, a cone-shaped spike popping out from his heel, sweeping swiftly across Ye Mo's ankle. He reacted extremely quickly, his foot in Steel Bone State stomping down like a hammer hitting a nail, stepping on the spike, pulling the man forward half a step with his backhand, and then kneeing him in the chest.
"Bang!"
The sound of the chest collapsing was clearly audible, yet the corpse remained standing upright, a red mark flashing on its neck as if it were automatically repairing the damage.
"It's really tough." Ye Mo frowned, feeling a slight cracking sensation in his bones under the Steel Bone State, like a concrete pillar that had been bearing heavy loads for a long time and was beginning to crumble internally. He looked down at his arm; the metallic sheen was slowly fading. The system hadn't given any warnings, but his body was giving him one: This thing can't hold up for much longer.
"Captain!" he hissed, "Can you still move?"
"I won't die." Steve gritted his teeth, using the edge of his shield to support himself as he slowly stood up. Although he couldn't lift his left arm, his right hand had already gripped the shield handle tightly again. "It's these guys... their movements are too synchronized, it's disgusting."
"Don't rush, we'll break them down in no time." Ye Mo flexed his wrists; a slight soreness came from the atrophied Steel Bone, but he didn't relax. " Emma Frost, can we still claim the penalty?"
Emma Frost didn't speak, her tongue pressed against her palate, the taste of blood slightly clearing her mind. She stopped scanning the brain and instead focused her mental energy into thin threads, gliding along the periphery of the enemy's motor nerves, only capturing the premonition of muscle contraction. This operation was like picking yarn with a needle—laborious, but less likely to backfire.
"Straight ahead, shoulder hydraulic pump pressurization, explosive sprint within three seconds." She spoke extremely fast. "Right side, prepare to throw the spiked club, target your calf tendon."
"Received." Ye Mo immediately adjusted his stance, taking a half step back with his right foot, lowering his center of gravity, and assuming a blocking posture.
Sure enough, the enemy in front of him suddenly charged forward, at least 30% faster than before, his serrated blade leaving a trail of afterimages. Ye Mo did not retreat but advanced, activating his Steel Bone State again, this time focusing only on his arms and shoulder blades to take the blow head-on. The two blades collided, sparks flew, and the ground beneath his feet "crashed" open with spiderweb-like cracks. He was knocked backward by the impact, but he still managed to hold on.
At the same time, the enemy on his right hurled a spike, the sound of it piercing the air sharp. He dodged to the side, the spike grazing his waist before embedding itself in a lamppost behind him, making the lampshade vibrate.
"Almost." Ye Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Next time, say it two seconds earlier."
"You think this is like ordering takeout?" Emma Frost gasped for breath, blood trickling from her temple. "I'm lucky I even survived to tell you this."
After the enemy directly in front was blocked, they did not immediately attack again, but instead formed a triangle with the other two and slowly approached. Their movements were still synchronized, but there was an extremely slight delay in their rhythm, as if there was interference in the signal transmission.
Ye Mo knew that Emma Frost's mental suppression was at work. Even if it was just a brief interference, it was enough to break that mechanical synchronization.
"Captain," he whispered, "I'll find an opportunity to force them into close combat, and you can use that to create distance and switch roles."
"Understood." Steve nodded, raising his shield slightly to assume a defensive stance.
The three stood back to back, forming a preliminary triangular defensive line. The enemy paused temporarily, seemingly assessing the new situation. The morning breeze swept through the pedestrian street, lifting Ye Mo's charred sleeves to reveal his still-grinding steel-gray skin beneath.
He stretched his shoulders, his bones making a slight creaking sound. The cool-down hadn't kicked in yet, but he was already at his limit. He knew the next attack wouldn't be so easy to stop.
Emma Frost stood to his left, her hands trembling slightly, but her gaze was fixed on the front. Her mental strength was like a string stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any moment, but she did not relax.
Captain America stood on the right, his left shoulder simply bandaged, blood still seeping out, but he stood ramrod straight, his shield held horizontally in front of his chest, like a wall that would never fall.
Ye Mo exhaled a breath of stale air, took his silver-rimmed glasses out of his pocket, and casually tossed them into the nearby trash can.
"Wearing glasses while fighting is pure self-harm," he said.
In the distance, a stray cat peeked out from behind a trash can, glanced at them, and then retreated back inside.