You Are Really No Match For Me [Fighting] - Chapter 8

“Hear”

Jinyu was about to refuse, but felt Suzy’s tattooed arm—etched with intricate mechanical patterns—drape over her shoulder. Her fingertips traced a bold “YES” on Jinyu’s skin.

Jinyu caught on, nodded in agreement. “Mm.”

Jinmu seemed like he wanted to say something more, but in the end only gave a slight nod and drove off.

When his taillights finally disappeared around the corner, Suzy turned back. She pulled off her helmet, revealing eyes framed with heavy eyeliner. “He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

Jinyu shook her head.

Suzy suddenly grinned. “Not bad—you’re one of the few who can actually put Jinmu in his place.”

Jinyu was still brooding over what happened last time. “About before…”

Suzy clicked her tongue, a flash of cold sharpness in her eyes. “The only reason I told you not to cross Jingang was because of Jinmu. Jinmu’s a tough one—cunning, resourceful, and ridiculously protective. That useless brother of his just hides behind him. When I saw him take you away today, I thought for sure your stubborn temper would land you in hot water…” She gave Jinyu a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. “Guess I underestimated you.”

Jinyu nodded. She had only met Jinmu twice, but already he was suspicious of her. Truly a troublesome opponent. “He’s definitely calculating, but right now we’re in a stalemate. He won’t dare move against me so easily.”

Suzy stood tall at 172 centimeters, long-legged with a narrow waist. She wore a tight crop top, cargo pants, and heavy platform boots that brought her nearly to 175. Jinyu, on the other hand, stood at 168 centimeters, thin and delicate, her pretty face framed by a simple tracksuit—looking more like a high schooler than a fighter.

From Suzy’s lofty vantage, Jinyu really did look like a child.

Watching the “pure little high school beauty” talk so seriously about countering Jinmu, Suzy couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Her maternal instincts suddenly flared—Jinyu was just too cute. She reached out with her “demon claw” and ruffled Jinyu’s hair.

Jinyu slapped her hand away, but before she could react, Suzy had somehow produced a helmet out of nowhere and smack—plopped it right over her head.

The helmet automatically locked with a snug neck guard.

Jinyu puffed her cheeks in frustration and tried to pull it off, but Suzy held her down, then practically “packaged” her up and tossed her onto the backseat of the motorcycle.

“Alright, I’m done teasing you,” Suzy said, revving the engine. “Big sis is taking you out to see the world.”

The bike roared to life.

Inside the helmet’s narrow view, Jinyu studied the scenery flashing past.

Most of the cars looked similar to those of the 21st century, though sleeker, more colorful, and highly customized. Still, plain black, white, and gray vehicles were common. The stylish designs clearly dominated public taste.

Even at nearly sixty miles per hour, there was plenty to take in: skyscrapers lit with neon—typical for Chongqing—but what caught her eye most were the giant screens plastered across the buildings. This era’s stars were unlike those of the past. Every age had its culture, its idols, and right now, this world adored sports and adventure.

Of the twenty-six large screens they passed, half advertised health, weight-loss, and fitness. A quarter showcased combat sports champions. The rest promoted street parkour, extreme challenges, and high-speed racing icons.

An era’s celebrities reflected its aesthetics. The hippie counterculture of 1960s America had opposed war and traditional values. China’s martial arts golden age from the 1950s to the 1990s had birthed countless classics, with Hong Kong and Taiwan leading a boom in wuxia films that spread like wildfire.

The people on the streets looked much like the fighters she had seen. Most had minimal cybernetic modifications—just enough to maintain function without altering their appearance. Some had none at all. Especially the younger ones; perhaps because their bodies weren’t fully developed, cybernetic surgery at that stage would hinder growth.

But overall, people seemed less healthy than 150 years ago—fatter, less fit. Probably why nearly 40% of the ads focused on diet and exercise.

After about fifteen minutes, a huge neon sign came into view: SEG Plaza. Eight floors tall.

“Here we are, Xiaoyu,” Suzy announced.

“This is… a mall?” Jinyu asked, removing her helmet. Suzy hooked it onto the bike and grinned. “The biggest one in Jiangbei. Time for you to see it for yourself.”

The mall was packed, especially with flamboyantly dressed young people. Heavy makeup, bold styles. A boy nearly collided with them, gliding past on two wheels, one hand in his pocket, a bubbling green drink in his mouth.

The first floor was a massive food court—colorful drinks, fried snacks, desserts. Almost every stall had long lines, making the place a chaotic sea of bodies.

Suzy tugged Jinyu into one of the queues, tapped a button near her temple, then flicked her fingers in the air. “You can’t come to SEG Plaza and not try their Glacier Lava. It’d be a crime.”

Jinyu narrowed her eyes, studying Suzy with suspicion. She didn’t say a word, just followed quietly, until Suzy began to feel a chill creeping down her back.

Only after getting their drinks did Suzy finally relax. Jinyu took a sip. So-called Glacier Lava was really just mint, chocolate, milkshake, plus an assortment of chewy pearls and jellies. Suzy sighed with relief, took her own sip, and then—casually probed: “By the way, Xiaoyu, do you have a comms device? Add me?”

With food in her hands, Jinyu couldn’t very well refuse outright. She paused, then shook her head. “No. I don’t have money for one.”

Suzy slapped her forehead. “Right, I forgot. Your time didn’t use this kind of tech. No problem, sis will buy you one.” She grabbed Jinyu and dragged her upstairs.

On the second floor, shop after shop sold the popular devices—small patches adhered to the left temple, neural sensors for communication.

Suzy fussed over Jinyu, trying one after another, praising each one until she peeked at the price tag—then laughed awkwardly and put it back.

Jinyu found it funny. She could tell Suzy thought they were too expensive but didn’t want to admit it. “You’re acting strange today, you know.”

Since they’d met that morning, Suzy had been treating her too kindly, buying her things left and right. But why? They weren’t even that close.

Suzy froze, looking a bit embarrassed. “Strange? How? I feel normal. You’re just impatient. C’mon, this stuff takes time to pick properly. Try this one.” She reached toward Jinyu’s temple again.

Jinyu pushed her hand away. “Enough circling around. What do you really want? If you don’t come clean, I’m leaving.” She turned to go.

Suzy quickly grabbed her wrist, glanced around nervously, then lowered her voice and spoke in a rush, almost like a guilty secret: “Actually, I just need you to help my dad… make a purchase.”

Jinyu turned back. “Your dad sells something?”

Suzy tugged at her sleeve. “Come with me and you’ll see.”

They hopped back on the bike. The cityscape gradually grew bleak—narrow streets, dim storefronts, peeling signs. The few people around were ragged, many missing limbs, their mechanical parts creaking with every step.

Jinyu inhaled sharply. “So even here, the wealth gap’s this wide…”

Suzy smirked coldly. “You haven’t seen anything yet. This is nothing.”

They passed several shops before Suzy abruptly pulled Jinyu aside. Her usual cocky eyes now brimmed with unease. “Xiaoyu, for the sake of all the times I’ve helped you out—and bought you ice cream—you have to help me this time.”

Jinyu already had a guess. She slurped the last of her Glacier Lava, tossed the empty cup aside, and gave Suzy a sidelong look. “Alright, tell me. Let’s see if I can.”

Suzy pulled out a thick envelope stuffed with money and pressed it into Jinyu’s hands. “There’s a shop ahead, called Su Ming Prosthetics. Just walk in like you’re some big spender who stumbled upon the place. Pretend you’re looking at cybernetic limbs. Doesn’t matter what you point at—just give him the money.”

Jinyu raised an eyebrow. “That’s your father?”

Suzy’s expression turned complicated. She crouched down, sulking. “Yeah.”

“How many people have you tried this with already?” Jinyu asked.

Suzy picked up a loose screw from the ground, dragging it in circles. “Plenty. But the old man always catches on.”

“Why can’t you just give it to him yourself?”

Still doodling, Suzy muttered, “Because the stubborn old goat thinks my job’s no good. A girl working in a bar, selling drinks—it’s not ‘respectable,’ he says. Hmph. Like he’s one to talk. And my mom? Soft as clay, just does whatever he says. Useless.”

Jinyu waved her hand dismissively. “Alright, leave it to me.”

Suzy leapt up, then hurriedly hushed herself, eyes darting nervously. She stuck close behind Jinyu, whispering urgently: “Just—whatever you do, don’t let him find out, okay?”