My Amnesiac Nemesis

Chapter 3 Sovereign's Touch——001

Her awakened skill is an S-rank talent—Mirroring.

She can replicate others' talents and use them. If the target's talent is below S-rank, she can fully replicate and use it; if it is an S-rank talent, the replicated strength is reduced to A-rank. The replicated effect lasts for 24 hours, during which she cannot replicate another ability.

Various colored ability storage tubes were scattered on the floor. Harper's purple hair fell loosely, and she sat casually by the safe, her long fingers playing with the tubes, which made a crisp sound. She looked like a child picking her favourite snack.

Who would have thought that she was a rare S-rank ability user?

Currently, there are fewer than 200 recorded and archived S-rank ability users worldwide. About a dozen of them work for the United Government.

The number of S-rank ability users serving D is unknown. Hunted by the United Government for over 30 years, D's strength cannot be underestimated. They possess several S-rank experimental subjects and once cultivated an extremely powerful subject—his talent was nearly equivalent to causality.

001, awakened talent—Sovereign's Touch.

This talent allows the user to strip and seize any talent of any level, disregarding any conditions, with a 20% success rate and a one-hour cooldown. The talent can then be granted to anyone (including the user) with a 50% success rate, and the effect lasts permanently until the next transfer. Subject 001 is a terrifying and formidable weapon.

Unfortunately, it is said that 001 died in an accident seven years ago.

Harper had met 001 or, rather, was very familiar with him.

She did not harbour any dislike for him, nor did she feel sadness over his death. Even though they had often been confined together as children in the treatment room, both losing their sanity, each occupying half of the space like fierce young beasts, their strong territorial instincts led them to injure each other in their fights. Sometimes, she would dream of his unfocused, beast-like eyes.

Harper stopped reminiscing and selected five tubes from the pile, placing them into her waist pouch before shoving the rest back into the safe.

"Thud—"

Something fell, a piece of blackened, deformed metal pendant. It was hard to make out, but it seemed to have the number "001" engraved on it.

Harper was stunned. She hadn't seen this item in a long time and thought she had lost it during the last move, but now it had suddenly reappeared. She lowered her eyes, hesitating. She gently brushed her fingers over the pendant, then glanced at the trash can not far away. After a brief struggle, she carefully placed the pendant back into the safe.

Ten days later, June 11, 3611, the city's suburbs.

The wind was strong in the suburbs, blowing against Harper’s loose black jacket. She had hidden her signature purple hair under a black wig and wore a wide-brimmed hat. Her androgynous face was obscured in the hat's shadow. Compared to the armed bodyguards around her, she appeared as thin as a regular person who had mistakenly wandered into the transaction site. Harper paid no mind to the curious or greedy gazes cast her way, instead focusing intently on the abandoned factory before her. Her amber eyes revealed no emotion.

Something was wrong, she thought. Something was very bad.

Among all these bodyguards, she was the only one with an ability. Although strong physical bodyguards could handle ability users to some extent—if they used special bullets, they could disrupt or injure talent users—it still wasn't enough. If there were two A-rank ability users on the other side, things would be difficult.

Harper considered for a moment. No worries, she thought; if Plan A fails, there's still Plan B. In any case, she was determined to secure the 300,000 reward.

There were ten minutes left until the transaction time. The trees at the factory's entrance rustled in the wind, the sunlight was intense, and the world seemed peaceful. Harper even felt a bit sleepy. Suddenly, her ear twitched, and her back tensed. She instantly opened her eyes, her sharp gaze fixed on the distance.

"Clang—" A metal long knife materialized in her hand.

This was Harper’s commonly used copied ability—A-rank Metal Perception.

The people around her, startled and caught off guard, had no time to react before a deafening rumble echoed from afar.

Boom—

The ground shook, pebbles rolled, and the tremor made it hard for people to stand. A thick plume of smoke rose from the south, forming a mushroom cloud.

It was the commotion of an ability user confrontation—there seemed to be quite a few people.

This wasn't the real transaction site!

Harper's expression changed. She turned around, grabbed the so-called "protected boss", and slammed him onto the car hood with a loud thud, asking coldly, "If the other transaction fails, does that count as my mission failing?"

The "big boss", caught off guard, was left with a bloody nose. His sunglasses shattered, revealing eyes full of fear. "What are you talking about?"

The cold metal knife was silently pressed against his neck. Harper showed no signs of a bodyguard’s attitude. Her eyes lowered slightly as she spoke softly, "Cut the crap. Just give me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’."

"Yes, yes…"

Receiving the confirmation, Harper chuckled, retracting her knife. "Ah, your boss really has terrible taste."

She then lifted the bloodied "big boss" like a bag of trash, ignoring the terrified stares of the other bodyguards. She walked to the car and paused, puzzled by their reaction. Harper sighed, thinking these people were truly clueless—they didn’t even know to hand her the car keys?

She waited, and when no one stepped forward, she extended her hand, demanding, "Give me the car key."

A minute later, the engine roared. The SUV made a sharp turn, drawing an elegant arc as it sped out of the abandoned factory gates, leaving a group of stunned bodyguards and the “big boss” behind.

The explosion site was less than two kilometres from the factory. Harper speculated that the real boss had set up two transaction points—one real, one fake—to confuse any attackers. To make the fake transaction seem authentic, she, an A-rank ability user, was assigned to guard it. Harper’s black-market profile listed her as an A-rank user, impressive but not exceptional. While the abilities she copied were not at the S-rank level, her other attributes were all S-rank. "The boss has poor judgment. My approval rate is 100%. A bit more trust wouldn't hurt," Harper grumbled.

She glanced at the special timer on her wrist. Her copied Metal Perception ability had 20 minutes left, and her waist pouch still contained another ability tube that could emit dust to block interference from other ability users.

The black SUV, like a ghost, silently parked at the edge of the explosion's dust cloud. She rolled down the window, pulled out a mask decorated with a blue cat pattern, put it on, and leaned out to survey the scene with a frown. Harper thought: With an explosion of this scale and the previous noise, there shouldn't be any survivors left here. If the transaction token wasn’t damaged in the blast, she could retrieve it and still claim part of the reward.

One of Harper’s life mottos: "Always leave with something."

She walked into the explosion’s center, but three minutes later, she deeply regretted her motto.

Amidst the rubble sat a battered figure. His clothes were tattered, his breathing faint. Pale blonde hair, covered in dust, framed his forehead, which bore a large bloodstain. His glassy eyes, devoid of focus, were tinged with red. In his right hand, he clutched what seemed to be the transaction token.

Harper didn’t know what to do. She stood there quietly, staring at the bloodied man. She felt she knew him, but it was as if a block in her memory prevented her from recalling exactly who he was.

Her gaze slowly moved down to his chest. D's experimental subjects had a special mark on their bodies that would appear when they were extremely weakened or injected with a revealing agent. Sometimes, researchers would use this mark's visibility to judge if a subject remained aggressive.

On the scarred and bloodied chest, which rose and fell with faint breaths, was a mark Harper was very familiar with—001.

The transaction target was already dead. Harper didn't want to walk away with nothing. She spent three seconds considering her options and decided to double-cross the deal. After all, her motto was: Always leave with something.

Harper maneuvered around the debris to retrieve the token from 001's hand. As she bent down, the warmth of her body brushed against his face like a soft blanket. 001’s fingers twitched slightly.

Harper remained unaware of this. The item in 001's hand was a metallic octahedron, and it slid easily into her grasp—everything was proceeding smoothly, almost unbelievably so.

She lifted her eyes and looked at the unconscious 001 with complex emotions.

In the past, the lights in the treatment room were always dim, and she seemed never to have seen 001's face clearly. All she remembered was the sticky sweat and the fervent, lustful kisses. Now, up close, she realized that 001 was indeed quite handsome. His features were as perfect as a sculpture, and the shoulder-length golden hair resembled luxurious silk. Even though it was now covered in dust and blood, it still exuded an expensive aura—like the scent of money.

Harper liked expensive things, but 001 was an exception.

She was ready to leave but felt a bit regretful. After a moment of hesitation, she reached out like a thief, quickly touching 001’s hair by his ear. It was silky and smooth, with a pleasing texture. Then, with a swift motion, she produced a razor-thin blade between her fingers and snipped a lock of that silky hair as a keepsake.

Feeling satisfied, Harper put away the hair and prepared to leave. Suddenly, another hand, cold and firm, grabbed her wrist.

001's eyes, like transparent glass, focused slightly as he looked at her, showing a trace of life. "Are you…"

Startled, she instinctively tightened her grip on his hand, forcefully pinning him against the wall. The impact made a muffled sound, and she summoned her Metal Perception ability again, materializing a dagger in her hand and pressing it against 001's neck.

Blood slowly seeped from the pressure of the blade on 001's neck, but his eyes showed no fear. Instead, he leaned closer, gazing intently into Harper’s eyes. His eyes were deep and cold, like an ancient, shadowed well. One could not discern her hidden emotions but could see faint reflections of light.

"Who… who are you?"

He spoke with a voice tinged with the metallic taste of blood and the scent of fire from the explosion. Harper frowned, leaning back slightly.

Noticing her retreating movement, 001 seemed puzzled. After a while, he softly asked, "Have I… seen you before?"

Harper found this absurd. She wasn't sure if it was because 001 didn’t recognize his ex-girlfriend or because she hadn’t immediately killed him despite the situation. She felt ridiculous listening to him speak nonsense in such circumstances.

Her timer beeped, and the dagger vanished from her hand. She glanced at the golden hair that had fallen to the ground, her mood inexplicably souring. She had no intention of saying more, so she pulled away from 001's grasp and left with the token.

"I’m injured," 001’s weak voice called from behind, confirming his inability to move. "Could you take me with you?"

"What’s wrong with you???" Harper turned back, astonished.

001 was dazed, not entirely conscious. The pain in his head was tearing at his mind, preventing clear thought. Instinctively, he felt that the woman—or the octahedron she had taken—couldn't just leave. But he had no idea how to convince this seemingly temperamental woman who felt strangely familiar.

Maybe it was some subconscious intuition or an instinct. 001 blinked at her and said, "I’ll give you, a lot of money—whatever you want. Just take me with you, please?"

Harper stopped in her tracks. She indeed doesn't have much she particularly likes, but she does love money. So, she returned and crouched down in front of 001.