You Are Really No Match For Me [Fighting] - Chapter 9

Jinyu peeled away the outer cowhide wrapping from the bundle, split it into two stacks, and slipped them into the pockets of her sweatpants. Then she walked into a small shop called Su Ming Machinery.

Though the shop wasn’t large, everything inside was neatly arranged. The metal shelves gleamed, the glass display cases sparkled, and within them lay prosthetic limbs that shone just as brightly.

Two customers were already there. The owner was chatting with one of them, but when he noticed Jinyu walk in, he greeted her warmly.

Jinyu gave him a glance—father and daughter didn’t look alike. The daughter was beautiful, while the father’s features were plain. Only their eyes bore resemblance: sharp, yet without malice. The father spoke with an unfamiliar accent, which only made him sound more rustic and honest.

“Missy, you look new here. First time visiting? What are you looking for?”

Jinyu replied, “Boss, you don’t have to mind me. Keep doing your thing, I’ll just look around.”

“Alright then. If you see something you like, just call me over.”

The shop was only about twenty square meters, divided into three main sections:

• • Small replacement parts: eyes, fingers, ears, and so on. Some came in natural skin tones, others in flashy colors. Xiao Bai’s prosthetic eye, for example, was a plain model—indistinguishable from the real thing at a glance.

• • External devices: often mounted on the shoulder or arm, serving as exoskeletons or prosthetic limbs, with gripping and control functions.

• • Combat gear: exoskeletons equipped with blades, spikes, and other close-combat weapons. Some were designed for hands, arms, legs, even heads—featuring electromagnetic variants, laser types, or energy cannon models. Compared to the goods at Saige Plaza, these were more practical and much more affordable.

If Jinyu truly wanted a combat exoskeleton, this would’ve been the right place. But she had no need—her own strength was more than enough. These devices would only slow her down.

No matter how advanced mechanical nerve fibers were, they could never match the sharpness of human nerves.

Humans are the strangest creatures on Earth. Just the human brain contains around eighty billion neurons, constantly processing information, even in sleep. By contrast, all this equipment—Jinyu had already realized while using that so-called “neural comms device”—ran strictly on commands, one after another. Could such things really keep up with the brain’s tempo on a battlefield, where every move is split-second?

She didn’t despise prosthetics, but she trusted her body and instincts far more than machines bound by rigid instructions.

Still, she circled the store, memorizing every item’s name, function, and price. At last, she stopped before the most expensive piece in the shop.

“Boss, I want this one.”

Su Ming had just finished ringing up another customer. Hearing her, he jogged over with a smile. Seeing what she pointed at, he asked kindly, “Miss, this one’s heavy. Is it for yourself or a gift?”

The freshly paid customer chimed in, “Girl, if you like something, just tell the boss. Old Su’s prices are the fairest around. You came to the right place.”

Su Ming chuckled modestly. “Ah, it’s nothing—just the neighbors giving me face.”

“I’ll be using it myself,” Jinyu said with a smile.

“You? Such a slim girl? With this thing, you’ll pop your shoulder right out! This is a tournament-grade limb—planning to use it daily, or just for competition?”

Titan’s Grip – Full Tactical Prosthetic Arm System

• • Strength Augmentation: Maximum lift 2.3 tons

• • Weapons:

    • • High-frequency particle blade (cuts 30 cm into uniform steel plate)

    • • Electromagnetic dart (range 50 m, with neurotoxin injection)

    • • Concealed micro-pistol (3-round capacity)

• • Defenses:

    • • Energy shield (15 sec duration, 2 min cooldown)

    • • EMP jammer (5 m radius)

“For competition,” Jinyu replied. “This is the one I want.”

Su Ming waved his hands quickly. “No, no, trust Uncle on this one—it weighs several kilos! Even brawny men have trouble with it.” He tried to talk her into something else, but Jinyu was adamant. With a sigh, he opened the case, grunted, and hauled down the heavy, expensive prosthetic arm.

In her hands, it was indeed weighty—about five kilos. She slid her arm into the brace, and Su Ming fastened it at the shoulder. From the joint, he pulled out a chip-like sensor and pressed it to her temple. It lit up. The machine whirred alive.

Jinyu raised her arm—it felt heavy. She flexed her fingers: smooth, no grinding noise. With a thought, a particle blade flicked out from her forearm like an unsheathed sword. Another thought, and it retracted.

Too slow. Too clumsy. It lacked the grace of a sword, the raw force of a blade. Prolonged use would leave her muscles aching.

Still… she could always resell it to Su Xi. She herself had no use for it.

“Alright, I’ll take it. Pack it up,” Jinyu said.

Su Ming grimaced. “Miss, really not reconsidering? This one’s not right for you.”

“It’s fine. I like it. I won’t overuse it. Worst case, it’ll just sit pretty at home.” She pulled a bundle of cash from her pocket and placed it on the counter. “This is all the money I brought. Fill the rest with things you think I’ll find useful.”

“Alright then. I just don’t want you hurting yourself.” Su Ming gave in, packaging the arm and picking out several other lightweight, practical prosthetics—four in total: for hand, arm, waist, and leg. Clearly a straightforward, honest businessman. No wonder he never made much profit.

Having closed a big sale, Su Ming’s voice bubbled with joy. “So many things! Give me your address, I’ll ship them over.”

“Sure.” Jinyu dictated her address. As he wrote, her eyes caught something on the counter—a slender, elegant blade.

“Boss, that knife?”

“Oh, that? A miao dao! Been in my family for generations, back from the days of fighting Japanese pirates. My ancestor was a blacksmith—he forged it himself. Killed many pirates with it. We’ve kept it safe ever since. Shame no one uses such weapons anymore.” Su Ming sighed.

“May I see it?”

“You like blades too?”

“I know a little,” Jinyu said.

With great care, Su Ming lifted it from the counter and handed it over. The blade was 1.3 meters long—a traditional Chinese long saber, famed in the Ming Dynasty for countering Japanese swords. Despite its age, the steel showed no trace of rust.

Jinyu pressed her thumb on the guard—shing! Half an inch of steel slid free, reflecting her own face.

Her pulse quickened. She couldn’t look away. “Boss, may I try it?”

Though doubtful, Su Ming nodded. “Go ahead.”

Jinyu’s eyes sparkled. She placed the scabbard on the counter, stepped back, then in one fluid motion drew the blade diagonally, cutting through the air. Both hands gripped, slicing, thrusting. The miao dao seemed alive in her hands, its arc painting streaks of steel wind.

Sunlight streamed through the narrow doorway, casting her in brilliance. For a moment, Su Ming swore he saw his ancestor again, cutting down pirates with that very blade.

At length, he rubbed his dry eyes. “Girl, you…”

Jinyu sheathed the blade smoothly, standing tall with her back to the sun. “Boss, would you sell it?”

His voice trembled. “This blade is not for sale.”

She paused, then nodded. “Of course. A family heirloom—it shouldn’t be.”

But seeing the light die in her eyes, the way she reluctantly closed the scabbard with reverence before handing it back, then turning to leave—Su Ming’s heart twisted.

Just as she reached the door, he called out, “Wait, miss!”

In a flash, Jinyu was before him, eyes wide with delight. “Boss, you’ve changed your mind? You’ll sell it to me?”

Su Ming winced, instantly regretting speaking up.

Jinyu tilted her head, blinking innocently, voice soft and pleading. “Uncle, please sell it to me? Such a fine blade—sitting here only gathers dust. If you let me have it, I’ll cherish it, truly.”

He tried to scowl but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Clever little fox!”

“Please, Uncle! I beg you!”

With a sigh, he pushed the blade toward her. “Alright. Consider it fate—you and the blade are destined. Take it.”

Jinyu hugged it like treasure. “Thank you, Uncle, you’re the best!” She quickly placed another bundle of cash plus a fifty-yuan note on the counter, then bolted out before he could object.

Clutching the saber, her heart soared. What a stroke of fortune—like a pie falling from the sky.

But just then, a hand reached toward her from behind.

She spun, smacking the scabbard hard across it.

“Ow!” Su Xi yelped, cradling her hand. “You brat! That hurt!”

Jinyu rushed to apologize, ready to fetch ice.

Su Xi grabbed her with the other hand. “Hold it! Did you do what I asked? Did you give him the money?”

Jinyu nodded. “Yes.”

“All one hundred thousand? He didn’t suspect anything?”

“No,” Jinyu said calmly.

Su Xi exhaled in relief—then noticed the blade that had just struck her. Her eyes went wide. Her jaw nearly hit the ground. “That… that’s our family heirloom! Did the old man let you steal it? He didn’t thrash you?”

“He sold it to me,” Jinyu said.

Su Xi pointed at the saber, then at her, stammering, “The old man… sold you the heirloom?”

Jinyu nodded. “He wanted to gift it, but I left the money. The other prosthetics are yours, but this blade stays with me.”

Su Xi paced in disbelief. “He never even lets me touch it. And now he just gives it to you?”

Before Jinyu could answer, a low rumble drew her gaze skyward. A hover-car approached at steady speed. Matte black, sides painted with dark red flame patterns. Its engine had a peculiar roar. The cockpit windows glinted, hiding the driver’s face.

A prickle of familiarity coursed through her. She’d seen one like it on her first day here.

The car braked sharply, hovering ten meters above the alley. Valves hissed, white mist venting as spider-like struts unfolded from the chassis. The window rolled down a third of the way.

Behind the glass, a familiar figure appeared. Gold-rimmed glasses flashed with cold light.

Jinyu’s pupils contracted.

Jin Mu.

What was he doing here?