Alleys, a mysterious and dangerous place in any science fiction novel, are naturally no better in this chaotic Martian city. Even though the pedestrian street in District 115 is relatively safe - apart from the ongoing terrorist attacks - this alley is still full of "No Trespassing" signs.
Walking inside, Gary felt like he was walking through a slippery, sticky, gelatinous substance. The air was suffocating, the stench of fermented organic matter, including but not limited to kitchen waste, human tissue, excrement, and dead small organisms. Even with the aid of the exoskeleton's air filtration module, he could smell it.
"Puh! What's that smell!?" 11B's voice came from behind. "Officer Li, can we get to the toll booth this way? We better get out of here quickly."
Gary stopped and cornered him next to a pool of unknown liquid. "I have a question. When we were driving earlier, you could clearly predict the hidden fork in that alley, but why don't you have that ability now? Is there network interference, or are your abilities limited? Or perhaps—did you already plan this route, and those so-called thugs were part of your plan, or even your allies?"
"Officer, I must admit, you're quite imaginative. With such an interesting and divergent mindset, it's no wonder you've earned Old Huo's approval in just two months." 11B walked around Gary and gently tapped him on the back. "Look here!" He raised his right hand, where iron sand was flowing, forming two perpendicular circles. "As you can see, I'm psychically sensitive—does that explain your question?"
Gary remained silent and slowly caught up with 11B who was walking forward.
"You should have seen the methods for dealing with psychic-sensitive individuals in the police training syllabus, but don't worry, I'm not as dangerous as an A-rank person," 11B said as they walked. "Us B-rank users usually only have one specialized psychic technique, but I'm quite skilled in object manipulation. So, I can sense the density of matter from a great distance, which helps me make judgments."
"So you've never made a mistake before?" Gary was startled by his words. "I was driving at almost 90 miles per hour at that time! If you made a mistake and that wasn't a fork in the road, but a wall of a different material, then..."
"Of course, I often make mistakes," 11B shrugged. "But at least I made the right bet this time, and you instinctively trusted me. Even your sharpshooter can only hit two or three out of ten when dealing with a high-speed moving target!"
"Uh, alright..." Gary raised the default temperature of his exoskeleton's thermal module to help his trembling body recover. As an ordinary, serving police officer, even one who had been specially trained by the police department, he couldn't really blame this jerk who was at least three levels higher than him. On the other hand, this also meant that if he wanted to make a name for himself in the underworld, he had to listen carefully to everything this guy said, even if it sounded completely unreliable.
"The best marksman, shooting at a fast-moving target, only managed to hit two or three shots. What kind of marksman is he? A naive young man? No, just a complete noob!" Gary ranted in his mind.
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