Planning together, preparing for Ronan
The wind swirled dust from the gravel belt, brushing against Ye Mo's face. He stood there, like a stake driven into the ground, his feet still embedded in the cracks from the impact. He took off his helmet, sweat trickling down his forehead, gathering into a drop on his chin before patting down onto his work pants. The alloy bone in his shoulder had receded, leaving only skin and old wounds to hold him up; his ribs felt like they were being rubbed raw by a rusty file, each breath causing a sharp pain.
He didn't move, his eyes fixed on Ronan's direction. The guy didn't move either, his warhammer hanging down, standing there as if listening to some sound. His four hammer blows had missed, breaking his rhythm, and now he was trying to find the right point of force again.
Ye Mo knew time was running out. As soon as the Steel Bone Form dissipated, his body felt like it was falling apart. His head was buzzing, and he could hear the sound of blood rushing to his ears. He raised his hand to wipe his face; his palm was burning hot, not because of the heat, but because the system was still running residual data in the background—"Right shoulder sinks for 0.3 seconds." This pattern was etched into his nerve endings.
"Gamora," he whispered, without turning around, but using a signal sent from Telepathy Fragment —short, precise, like a needle piercing his consciousness, "Three o'clock, the crevice. Your left shoulder is badly scraped; don't push yourself."
There was a moment of silence, then a dark figure flipped out from behind the cliff, landing with slightly bent knees, the movement swift but tinged with hesitation. She glanced at her shoulder, where blood seeped through the fabric, and looked up at Ye Mo: "You can see that?"
"The fluctuations I sensed." Ye Mo grinned, his gums aching. "Your heart rate is 15% faster than usual, and your breathing is too low; you're clearly in pain. Stop playing the assassin; you're just an injured ordinary person right now."
Gamora didn't reply, but simply gripped her twin blades tightly and stood five meters behind him.
A metallic scraping sound came from above. Rocket Raccoon leaped down from a suspended boulder, a modified gun in his hand, his tail taut. "Hey, Heiyi Ge, did you really withstand those attacks just now? Or was it special effects or an illusion?"
"Special effects?" Ye Mo gasped for breath, bending over and supporting his knees to get more air in. "If you don't believe me, let him hit you later."
Rocket snorted and squatted down on a slope to inspect the ammunition boxes, "One sonic boom grenade, one concussion grenade, and the rest are all standard armor-piercing rounds. I don't want to risk my life on whether your prediction is accurate."
As soon as he finished speaking, the ground trembled slightly. Groot slowly rose from the pile of rubble, his trunk crooked, a few branches still reassembling, like an old tree root just crawling out of the mud. He stretched out a finger, drew a circle on the ground, then pointed to five dots, and finally pointed to the middle—that was their current position.
"You also think we should surround them and fight?" Ye Mo looked at the diagram and nodded. "Okay, that's an idea."
Footsteps approached in the distance. Star-Lord dragged his left arm along, his clothes torn, his face smudged with dust, but his headphones were still on, and music could be faintly heard. "Hey guys," he said, bandaging his arm, "I just tried a few beats and found that slow rock can steady my heartbeat, but I don't know if it'll bother that big guy in the helmet."
"You're planning to disturb him with music?" Ye Mo looked up.
"Why not? I shook off twelve pursuers on Xandar with 'Come and Get Your Love.'" Star-Lord winked. "Rhythm is the universal language."
"The problem is," Ye Mo pointed at Ronan, "That kind of person doesn't have a metronome in his head, he has a dynamite fuse. You play a song, and he might just start a massive sing-along—and then smash your head with a hammer."
Rocket scoffed, "You're right, this guy clearly doesn't understand art."
"But I can cooperate." Star-Lord wasn't discouraged; instead, he got more excited. "I'll connect the speakers to the Rocket launcher, and the sonic pulses will trigger the grenade explosions, creating chaos. Didn't you say you could predict his moves? Then tell me when to fire—like in a game, you're the support, I'm the mage, and he's the boss; we'll focus fire."
Ye Mo narrowed his eyes. This idea was a bit unconventional, but it wasn't impossible. He closed his eyes and recalled the memory fragments of the battle just now: before each heavy blow, Ronan's muscles would tense up and his breathing would become heavier, especially the moment his right shoulder lowered, which was almost a fixed preparatory movement.
"I can warn you half a second in advance," he said. "Not 100%, but about 80%. As long as he doesn't change his movements, I can catch him."
"Eighty percent is enough." Gamora suddenly spoke, standing to Ye Mo's left. "I'll lure him in. I'll force him to make a move, creating a window of opportunity for you to sense his movements."
"You're injured." Ye Mo looked at her.
"But he can still move." Gamora's eyes were cold. "And I understand these kinds of warriors better than you do—the stronger they are, the more they hate being tested. If I get close, he will definitely retaliate."
"Then you take the lead." Ye Mo nodded. "I'll provide backup. As soon as you make your move, I'll scan his status. If I see his right shoulder drop, I'll signal him immediately."
"How do we send it?" Rocket asked.
"Vibration." Ye Mo raised his hand, palm up. "I can use low-frequency Quake, like Morse code, in combinations of short and long waves. Whoever is closest to you will feel it."
Groot stretched out a branch, gently touched Ye Mo's palm, and nodded.
"Okay, I have no problem receiving it here." Star-Lord patted the Rocket's barrel. "Solder the vibration module in so it automatically detonates the sonic grenades as soon as it receives a signal."
Rocket rolled his eyes. "You want to modify the circuitry and synchronize the signal? Do you think this is like building Lego?"
"You can do it in three minutes," Star-Lord laughed. "Last time you said, 'I can even blind weld repair ships.'"
"That's because I wasn't drunk," Rocket muttered, but he had already started disassembling the outer shell.
Ye Mo sat down against a rock, his hands supporting his knees, his breathing gradually becoming steady. He knew his strength hadn't recovered yet, but no one could hold out for him right now. Those four blows hadn't just taken a toll on his body; his mind was racing too—every judgment had to be accurate to the millisecond. If he'd been even a fraction slower, he would be lying on the ground now.
"Do you believe me?" he suddenly asked, his voice not loud, but everyone present heard him clearly.
Star-Lord stopped bandaging, Rocket looked up, Gamora was looking at him, and Groot's branches trembled slightly.
"I don't trust strangers," Rocket said, "Especially those who wear black hoodies, glasses, and look like villains."
"But his shoulder didn't break," Gamora suddenly said. "Ronan struck four times; a normal person's bones would have shattered by now. Not only did he stand, he could also analyze the pattern of the attack. This isn't luck."
"And he saved Groot," Star-Lord added. "He shielded Groot from that shockwave with his body. If he hadn't pushed him, Groot would be a pile of sawdust right now."
Groot nodded, extended a finger, and gently tapped Ye Mo's shoulder.
"I'm not the commander," Ye Mo said in a low voice. "I'm just the guy who struck him three times. Believe it or not, but I can sense that his next blow will be even more devastating. Because he's already calculating his killing move, not just to intimidate, but to finish him off."
The wind stopped. The gravel path was so quiet you could hear someone breathing.
Gamora forward, standing slightly in front of Ye Mo, her twin blades crossed in front of her chest. "I'll trust him this once."
Star-Lord chuckled, took off his headphones, and tossed them into his backpack. "Then let's do it his way."
Rocket sighed and tightened the last screw, "Fine, I'm too lazy to come up with a plan anyway. But if you mess with me, Heiyi Ge, I'll be the first to shoot you."
"Deal." Ye Mo gave a slight smirk.
Groot redraws the formation on the ground with branches: Gamora forward to lure the enemy, Ye Mo senses from the center, Star-Lord and Rocket coordinate remotely, and he himself serves as the core of the barrier, ready to take the lead at any time.
"The order is set." Ye Mo stood up, his legs still a little weak, but he stood straight. "Gamora attacks → I issue a vibration warning → Rocket detonates the sonic bomb → Star-Lord disrupts the chaos → Groot provides cover and finishes off. Everyone listen to the rhythm, don't rush."
"What if he doesn't make a move?" Star-Lord asked.
"Then let's wait." Ye Mo stared in Ronan's direction, his voice deepening. "He'll definitely make his move. Someone like him can't stand being watched but not daring to act. As soon as Gamora gets close, he'll strike."
"Then we'll wait." Gamora her blades and disappeared into the shadows of the broken rocks on her left.
Rocket climbed onto the high platform, aimed his gun at Ronan, and placed his finger on the trigger.
Star-Lord crouched behind cover on the right, his speaker connected to the transmitter, tapping his knees to keep time.
The Groot crouches in a bow shape, its roots slowly plunging into the ground, its main trunk taut, like a fully drawn bow.
Ye Mo stood in the center of the circular depression, his hands supporting his knees, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his palms burning. He closed his eyes, his senses spreading out like a net, quietly waiting for that familiar oppressive feeling to descend once more.
The wind blew across the gravel belt, stirring up a layer of dust.
His eyelashes trembled slightly.