"Black-hair. Fast. Got ahead of us." The speaker was Lemon Oasis's blue-eyed killer from the warehouse. Behind him stood Mana, the blonde girl.

  Rex blinked, smiling. "Old friends! Escaping with a delicate girl, outpacing most? That beats me. You know the way forward? Suggestions?"

  Blue-eyes shrugged. "Wrong. This delicate girl protects me. Mana's stamina is weak, but her IQ? Top-tier analysis. Without her, I'd never have reached this point."

  Rex's interest sparked. No survivor is simple.

  Mana waved dismissively, embarrassed. "Don't let Nord exaggerate. Simple analysis skills. Sometimes I make baffling decisions without understanding situations. If he didn't accommodate me, I'd be dead. You're Rex from Shipwreck Village, yes? We exchanged names. The destination is close. The pirate map indicates left. Actually, right is the shortcut. Nine and a half hours normally. With deteriorating weather? Fifteen to sixteen."

  "Wait. The map says left, but right is a shortcut? Nine and a half hours? We'd be two days early?"

  Blue-eyes laughed carelessly. Seeing Mana's slight frown, he immediately dropped his playful demeanor, pleading: "My mistake. Don't be upset. No more schadenfreude."

  Predator and prey. The ruthless warehouse killer submitted completely to Mana, daring no mischief.

  Nord explained: "Honestly? I remembered nothing from the pirate map. But Mana has excellent memory. Her analysis found the trick. What trick? Allow me—"

  Mana cleared her throat. Blue-eyes grimaced. "Fine, fine, fine. No rambling. Every few or dozen terrain maps contain subtle connections. Linking all the switching maps creates an aerial overview of the entire route. Some sections are deliberate detours. How do we travel fast with Mana? We chose different paths than most. Gained advantage. Unfortunately, warning others drew few risk-takers."

  "How is this possible? A shortcut?" Rex was stunned. He'd believed remembering most maps was impressive. Now? Worthless. If discovered earlier, perhaps Peacock-Face would have lived.

  "See? Skepticism. Believe or not, we're leaving." Nord turned to depart. Mana dragged him back.

  "Little Lin. Less than a day remains. Climate deteriorates. Even dangerous native creatures have gone quiet. An unimaginable storm approaches. Travel together? Mutual support? What do you think?"

  Sometimes intellect surpasses force. Detecting map shortcuts—she reached here effortlessly. Rex? Multiple times the effort, life-or-death struggles, barely equal results. And she was merely a frail girl. Even with assistance, her speed couldn't be extraordinary. Some youths were exceptional from birth. Continuous hardship only made them stronger.

  Rex looked up, sighing softly. "I don't doubt you. My capabilities need improvement."

  Unconsciously, his mentality shifted again. The joy from his newfound ability evaporated. So this speed ability, exhausting stamina for velocity, isn't worth boasting. Unless amplified to traverse the entire route rapidly, it remains inadequate.

  Mental clutter. With correct direction, how could he refuse? He joined Mana and Nord, pushing forward before the storm hit.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  As Mana predicted, the storm arrived silently. Darkness everywhere. Sand spiraled skyward, fell again. They huddled beneath massive rocks, shivering, praying for passage.

  Prayers often backfire. Half a foot of sand and stone accumulated. The storm showed no sign of stopping. They wrapped heads in clothing. Breathing grew labored. Both males shielded the girl from sand and wind. Their situation was predictably brutal.

  "Pain. How are stones this size flying? Third Galaxy hell."

  Rex rubbed his chest, numb from pebble impacts. Protected vital areas. Endured the storm's abuse.

  His physical strength had improved significantly. Previously, such intensity would have killed him. Now, gritting teeth, he barely held.

  "Madness. Red Storm drives us mad. What are pirates? Interstellar dung beetles. Human scum. Cosmic demons. Who survives this storm? They kidnapped hundreds of thousands from Turquoise Ring. Killing reduced it to one-fifth. Escape pods halved that again. Radiation in the rift claimed more. If we endure, what torture follows?"

  Ten hours later, winds weakened. All three were wrecked, bodies feeling dismantled. Rex rose disoriented, collapsed again. Drunken. Dizzy. Reaction slowed.

  "Mana? You... alright?"

  No response. Regaining clarity, he panicked, rushed to assist. Nord reacted simultaneously, diving forward.

  Thin air. Dust everywhere. Unexpected storm duration. Mana had fainted—nothing serious.

  Relief came. The remaining route, traveled at full speed, would take four to five hours. Rest wouldn't hurt.

  Nord sat. "Little Lin. Are all your villagers like you? Black hair, black eyes, yellow-tinged skin. Strange surname."

  Rex smiled. "Interesting question. Multicolored hair wouldn't be strange. However..."

  He paused. Nord snapped: "Spit it out! However what? Why the suspense?"

  "However... I differ from family. Villagers have deep eye sockets, pale skin. My parents weren't purely black-haired or black-eyed. Interesting?"

  "Ah! I know. You're abandoned. Adopted. Like me."

  Rex's expression shifted. This Nord—fifteen or sixteen, tall, thick brows, large eyes, loud and excitable—was also raised by kind strangers.

  "Don't speculate. 'Lin' is an ancient surname. My ancestors apparently looked like this. Interstellar migration diluted bloodlines. Rare, but atavism isn't unknown. My genes likely inherited ancestral sequences. The village AI said it's distant generation inheritance—strong characteristics emerging from thin bloodlines. Probably from one or several exceptional ancestors."

  "Heh. Didn't expect you to have a local AI. What's it like? Only rich young masters can afford those. Never seen one!"

  Clearly, Nord's attention shifted instantly from Rex's appearance to more intriguing topics. His mental leaps were considerable, personality carefree. Perhaps surviving this long truly was Mana's achievement.

  The storm finally subsided. They cleaned up briefly, supported each other, continued. Hoping for no more incidents. Determined to reach the end.

  Time lost meaning. The three stumbled to the correct location, climbing a rock formation. Days without adequate water or food, plus the terrible storm—naturally, they were in poor condition.

  Rex mounted last—and froze. Sixteen youths had arrived first. Some spoke in small groups. Others leaned against walls alone. Youngest: seven or eight. Oldest: fourteen or fifteen. Two girls glanced over at the noise.

  "Hmph. Slow. Only three more after all this time."

  The silver-haired girl studied Mana and Nord with contempt. Her eyes moved to Rex, pausing noticeably. Flatly: "So postnatal ability users do appear. Speed type, apparently. Rare."

  Rex's pupils contracted. His ability had emerged recently—speed-focused. Was this silver-haired girl monstrous? One glance revealing strangers' capabilities? Chilling.

  "Tsk, tsk. Silver-hair, playing this game again. Revealing people's situations. Friendly types laugh it off. Unfriendly types beat you senseless. Pity, wasting that beautiful face."

  The speaker's left hand suddenly blazed with purple flame, flickering like juggling. He tossed fireballs, wind howling. Proudly: "Newcomers. I'm Amon. Register. Don't stand there stupidly. Wind's strong."

  "Amon, you show off more than Silver-hair. Skill means nothing. Still pirate prisoners."

  Flame-boy's face twisted, then giggled: "Krobakla, why oppose me constantly? Fancy Silver-hair? Romance is normal! Say it. Brother will yield her to you."

  BOOM.

  Ice collided with purple flame. The one called Krobakla stood. Swords drawn, atmosphere razor-tense.