My Avatar Is Becoming the Final Boss-Chapter 8: Identity

【This character’s exclusive development system is—the “Social Superstar System.”】
【Core Rule of the “Social Superstar System”: Every time you form a cooperative relationship with more superhumans, you’ll earn rewards through the “Character Development System.”】
【Current Progress—Development Mission 1: Establish a friendly cooperative relationship with 1 Esper (regardless of alignment) (Reward: 1 Attribute Point)】
Ji Minghuan quickly scanned the text on the panel, his eyes lighting up as he mentally absorbed the new setting and thought, “Isn’t this perfect?”
This mechanic was right up his alley. If the “orphanage” line of investigation didn’t help him break through the current deadlock and find any clues left behind by the Instructor and the others, then he’d have no choice but to cozy up to other Espers, see if he could coax any intel about the lab from them—and by then, his actions would align perfectly with the “Character Development System.”
It was getting late. He pressed the power button to turn on the phone.
At the orphanage, all meals came from the cafeteria. He had never ordered delivery—and didn’t have the privilege to. Now, browsing the app with care, he finally ordered an Italian dinner—main dish: pasta, soup: creamy potato soup.
After confirming the order had been accepted, he glanced at the wall clock. It was 8:20 p.m.
He thought, “If there were a way to determine the current real-time in the lab’s time zone, I could figure out its rough location on the map based on the time difference.”
Unfortunately… Ji Minghuan had lived in the lab under conditions completely devoid of sunlight. He couldn’t even see the sky, let alone rely on daylight to guess the local time. What was worse, the detention room didn’t have anything resembling a clock.
In the first half of the month, Ji Minghuan had once asked the Instructor for a pendulum clock to be hung on the wall of the detention room—saying that knowing the current time would help him sleep regularly and maintain a proper routine. He had asked for a pendulum clock, not a regular one, because he felt the room was too quiet, and the ticking of the pendulum would at least bring some comforting noise.
Spending long periods in an utterly silent vacuum was a shortcut to depression. In such an environment, even a bit of sound became a luxury.
Sadly, the Instructor rejected the request, and Ji Minghuan never bothered to ask again.
If the researchers in the lab required him to eat three regular meals at set times each day, he could’ve guessed morning or night based on food delivery times. But reality was cruel—every time he woke up, he’d find a meal already placed there with no sign of who had delivered it.
So, he couldn’t even use meal times to judge day or night.
Lying on the bed, waiting for the food to arrive, Ji Minghuan folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling in a daze. He suddenly thought of the accident involving Gu Wenyu’s mother.
He opened a video app on his phone to learn more about the only publicly known member of the Esper organization Rainbow Wing.
“Fan Dongqing”—the only Rainbow Wing member whose identity had been made public so far.
Why was he the exception in such a secretive organization? Simple—his ability was far too flashy. Every time he appeared, it was accompanied by an over-the-top spectacle. There was no way to hide it, so revealing his identity became a matter of necessity.
Fan Dongqing first appeared before the public during a crisis involving a meteor about to crash into the capital city of Lijing.
That time, he used his Esper ability “Wrathful Green Ark” to intercept the meteor in midair, saving the city from catastrophe.
Ji Minghuan searched for keywords like “meteor” and “Rainbow Wing,” and clicked on a video that captured the event.
Out of nowhere, a sonic boom ripped through the night. A fiery streak tore across the sky as the meteor plummeted toward the city, becoming a massive fireball due to the intense heat from atmospheric friction. People stared in horror at the descending meteor, their hoarse screams rising in waves and drowning out the entire Lijing Plaza.
At that moment, a colossal, floating dragon boat appeared from the dark sky, slowly cruising through the night.
The er zoomed in on the boat. Lanterns and soundboards were hanging from its sides, and burly men in ancient robes rowed with large paddles. The air cracked and roared from the strokes, and the lanterns glowed a deep, blood red, casting a wide, ominous shadow over the city.
As the oars stirred the air, the soundboards on the boat opened and shut with crisp clacks. The whooshing of swinging lanterns, the thunderous rowing, and the rhythmic percussion of the boards—all of it blended into a powerful, chaotic symphony that roared across the capital’s sky, resonating in every direction.
Soon after, the video feed cut out—probably due to extreme electromagnetic interference. The screen turned to black-and-white static, with scratchy audio cutting in and out.
Regardless, from that day on, Fan Dongqing became the first Rainbow Wing member to publicly reveal both his identity and power. The other eleven members remained hidden—likely known only to the highest-ranking officials at the UN.
After finishing the video, Ji Minghuan quietly turned off his phone.
He thought, “If I want to find out who killed Gu Wenyu’s mother, I’ll have to find a way into Rainbow Wing and become one of them. That’s the only chance. The alternative—becoming a top politician—is far less feasible. Not even worth considering.”
Bored, Ji Minghuan followed memory flashes and dug out a “mask” and a black trench coat from the corner of the room—both of which Gu Wenyu had hidden away.
According to his game character setting, Gu Wenyu was a total chuuni—a textbook case of adolescent delusions of grandeur. He had all the typical teenage boy thoughts but kept them hidden from others. In fact, he’d spent several years designing his “battle outfit” and mask, even before awakening his ability.
But ever since his awakening a month ago, perhaps because he hadn’t mastered his powers yet, he never got a chance to actually wear those items.
“This is so poorly made. I could’ve done better,” Ji Minghuan muttered, clicking his tongue as he examined the mask. Its eye sockets were blood red, but everything else was pitch black and featureless. He stuffed the mask and coat back in the wardrobe, at the bottom. “Better hang on to these... Might come in handy someday.”
Before he knew it, the clock’s hour hand had crept to 10 p.m. After finishing dinner, Ji Minghuan took out the trash from his room and the living room, then showered and lay in bed.
Gu Qiye had said he wouldn’t be home tonight, but Ji Minghuan hadn’t expected him to be out this late.
Feeling bored, Ji Minghuan grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, switching to the news channel.
The anchor was ing on a case involving a Superhuman Crime suspect—an Esper codenamed “Ghost Bell” who had appeared in Lijing and publicly declared his criminal intentions. Using a voice modified by a voice changer, he spoke his plans in a deep, metallic tone and even boasted that if the Reality-altering Esper Association had any guts, they should send Rainbow Wing to stop him.
Talk was cheap, though. Rainbow Wing didn’t have time for this. They were the world’s top Esper organization, only stepping in for matters of life and death—not for a single Esper criminal.
Unless this criminal could destroy an entire city on his own, Rainbow Wing wouldn’t even glance in his direction.
Ji Minghuan watched TV while sipping hot water, growing sleepier by the minute.
Thinking about how he’d wake up tomorrow in that detention room again gave him a bit of a headache.
But then he remembered the Instructor’s promise—that he’d meet Kong Youling tomorrow. That brought some comfort, and he obediently lay down.
But just as he closed his eyes, he heard faint sounds from the first floor.
Someone opened the door—and they were in a hurry. With the enhanced hearing of an Esper, Ji Minghuan picked up on it immediately.
He slowly sat up in bed without turning on the lights. Instead, he extended a Binding Restraint into the dark, laying it flat against the floor.
He’d already tested the “Binding Restraint Sensory” skill earlier and confirmed that the sense-sharing ability it provided worked through barriers—floors included.
So, as the Binding Restraint touched the floor, it began to act as his sensory proxy. Sight and sound seeped through the wooden boards like water, descending downward.
And then—he saw the first floor of the house.
In the darkness, a man wearing a metallic blue-and-teal uniform sat slumped against the wall. He removed his helmet, revealing a pale face, then placed the helmet on the floor and pressed a hand to a deep gash on his neck. Blood poured like a curtain, staining his shoulder armor red.
Through the Binding Restraint Sensory, Ji Minghuan quietly observed the man’s face, raising an intrigued eyebrow.
“So it’s you…” he thought.
There was no doubt—the man he saw was Gu Qiye. Otherwise, there’d be no explaining how he had the key to the house.
The key detail, though, was the metal uniform he was wearing—and the helmet on the ground.
They matched exactly with someone Ji Minghuan had seen on TV earlier today.
That Reality-altering Esper’s code name…
—was Blue Arc.
The very same lightning-controlling Esper he’d seen on the news earlier.