My Amnesiac Nemesis

Chapter 2 S-Rank Power—Mirroring

"No new emails," Harper muttered to herself.

It seemed they might be in trouble, too busy to contact or monitor the illegal experimental subject they had invested so much in. Harper finished her yogurt and quickly typed in another URL. The login page featured a sly black cat——a black-market website, open only to those with abilities. Anything could be traded there for the right price, even lives.

She opened her inbox, and 57 emails loaded instantly. Ignoring her usual clients, Harper zeroed in on one email with a dog icon in the subject line. The message was brief: "Three snakes are in."

The glass vials containing the gene repair serum had a small snake icon on them, so "snakes" was the code word for the serum on the market. Harper had been dealing with this stable supplier for a couple of years. Although the serum he sold was lower in purity than what D supplied to their own, it was dirt cheap——so cheap it almost felt like a scam. That's why she mentally nicknamed the supplier "The Philanthropist."

Harper set down her now-crumpled yogurt bottle and mentally tallied the funds in her safe along with the gene repair serum she already had. Then, she sent a quick email: "I'll take all three snakes. Lower the price by 100,000 per vial."

The "Philanthropist" replied quickly, "You know the snakes are valuable."

This world was often referred to as a decaying apocalypse, but also as the "New Human Era." A small portion of the population was born with innate abilities, with a probability of around 8% of awakening these powers.

Over thirty years ago, a scientist working for D, a mysterious research organization, developed a drug that could alter an infant’s genes, increasing the likelihood of developing abilities. However the technology was unstable and violated natural laws. The mortality rate for infant test subjects was as high as 95%. Soon after, the project was halted by the joint government, the data was destroyed, and the drug was banned.

But human greed never really stopped.

Within a few years, D released another version of the gene repair serum, claiming the mortality rate had dropped below 50%. Afterward, D continued experimenting on infants and children, conducting long-term tests and raising them. Some perfect subjects, once their abilities stabilized, could wean off the serum, but others were bound to it for life. These subjects became D's most loyal weapons and servants.

Meanwhile, the joint government formed a special bureau to track and combat D, hoping to rescue all the experimental subjects. However, they never managed to crack the formula for the gene repair serum. Still, it seemed not everyone in D was so loyal—how else could diluted versions of the serum end up on the black market?

Harper never relied on anyone to save her.

The 24 vials of gene repair serum in her safe, plus the three she was about to acquire, would keep her alive for another 2 years and 3 months. She accepted this fact calmly.

Of course, she was still 300,000 short to buy the three vials. The "Philanthropist" hadn't agreed to lower the price, and even if he did, it would raise suspicion. This serum wasn’t something you could always buy, even with money.

She replied to the email, "Hold the snakes for me. Give me a month, and I’ll get back to you." Then she quickly scanned through the other emails, selecting one offering exactly 300,000—her final job as an assassin—and sent her acceptance. The email was successfully sent.

Harper shut down her old computer and decided to make herself a bowl of instant ramen. As she moved toward the kitchen, her eyes flicked to the wall calendar. The date was June 11, 3611—according to the old calendar, an auspicious day for moving or getting married, but unlucky for starting businesses, planting trees, or holding memorials.

Irritated, Harper tore off the page, crumpled it, and tossed it in the trash.

June 11 was ten days away. The job was simple—protecting a mysterious client during a transaction. In short, she was hired as a bodyguard. The task also specifically highlighted one condition: completing the job and bringing back proof.

Years of experience made Harper consider the worst-case scenario—the client dies. Well, if the mysterious boss got killed, she could just eliminate everyone on the scene, take the proof back, and the job would still be done, right? She was good at resolving things that way.

A new notification popped up in her inbox. The client had accepted her application and deposited 50,000 as an advance payment.

She headed to the kitchen, where the water was already boiling. Harper pulled out a packet of spicy pork bone broth-flavoured ramen, dumped the noodles and seasoning into the pot, and added a cheap, flavourless low-grade nutrient stick. Silently, she waited five minutes, her expression reverent and expectant.

In this era, even a cheap nutrient stick could meet a person's nutritional needs for a month. Cooking—a skill nearly everyone had in the old days—had become obsolete among ordinary people. Cooking and enjoying food had turned into a luxurious form of entertainment, and even instant noodles, once a staple, sat forgotten in warehouses until they expired.

But Harper wasn’t like that. She was a relic from the old world—a person with small quirks from a forgotten era.

She loved eating cooked food, even if it was just cheap instant noodles. But because she was poor, she only bought discounted, expired instant noodles.

She had once scoured a flea market and found a beat-up, almost broken bike, the very one she now rode to the clinic.

It was as if she were a little squirrel hoarding expired goods, with her home full of “worthless junk.”

Maybe it was some kind of imprinting.

Her understanding of the world came from an abandoned library from the old era. The library housed many ancient paper books. Sunlight streamed through the glass ceiling, illuminating the dust in the air. When she read, Harper felt like every line of text carried the musty scent of the past—maybe it felt like a mother’s embrace. But Harper had never met her mother.

To this day, Harper has remained fascinated with relics from the old world, always collecting and preserving them.

The ramen was ready. Harper took a big bite, letting the rich broth and spicy heat flood her mouth. The warmth spread through her, and for a fleeting moment, she felt a brief comfort, almost as if she could live forever.

After finishing the last drop of soup, Harper washed her bowl and pot, then returned to her bedroom. She opened a hidden compartment in the wall and pulled out her most prized possession—a safe that could withstand the destruction of most abilities. Inside were 24 vials of gene repair serum and a "Power Storage Vial" developed by D.

The power storage vial was a one-time-use item, but not for Harper.

Her ability was an S-rank power—Mirroring.

She could copy others' abilities for her own use. If the target had a power below the S-rank, she could fully replicate it. If it was an S-rank, she could copy it at A-rank strength. The copied ability lasted for 24 hours, during which she couldn’t duplicate any other powers.