I was amazed by my uncanny talent for always landing a punch on the target.

Yingning glared at me with deep resentment. I cleared my throat awkwardly, looked away, and my tail swished back and forth in embarrassment.

Even the system seemed stunned—it had probably never encountered a player refusing a main quest before.

Fortunately, the game system was humane. Seconds later, prompt windows popped up before both Yingning and me.

The quest acceptors shifted from just Yingning alone to both of us. Earlier, only she had the task; I had none…

So I could share quests this bizarre way? It must be tied to my Xia Ji Ba hacking spree on the server… I’d introduced countless bugs, and this was one. Pets normally couldn’t accept player quests—they couldn’t use any player functions or privileges at all.

[Accept Follow-up Events: Hidden Currents Stirring in Yader Continent! Seek Saint-Tier Strong Ones Alekexia and Xueli! [Main Quest]]

[✓ ×]

This time, we both selected the checkmark.

[Quest Accepted Successfully. Please first raise your level to 20.]

Ugh, level 20 already? I was only 14, Yingning just 13. Levels weren’t that easy to gain.

Jumping three levels rocketed Yingning up the rankings. From mid-tier among T2 players, she soared to 14,602nd globally—surpassing roughly four thousand players—and 2,701st in Asia, overtaking about six hundred. She’d clawed her way to the tail end of the T1 tier.

(Note: T1 tier refers to first-stage level players—the absolute top ranks.)

"Xiaoya, I’m logging off," Yingning said, her gaze reluctant. "Return to the Pet Space. I’ve got school. See you tomorrow night…"

"Yes, master!"

Forced by the system, I nodded obediently. Anyway, I had to log off too—school waited for more than just Yingning.

The game enforced daily login limits. Both of us had hit mandatory logout time.

I was whisked back to the Pet Space. Yingning logged out, then I did too.

Pushing open the Game Chamber, broad daylight greeted me. Birds outside chirped noisily.

Last night’s adventures felt like an incredibly vivid dream.

People rushed through that dream, chasing its fleeting joys.

Online games really were magical…

I smiled, slipped on my tacky blue-and-white uniform, and headed to heat milk.

Yingning yawned, shuffling out in a loose nightgown. She frantically wrestled her messy hair into a ponytail.

This Yatou looked worlds apart from her in-game self—like two different people.

"Mas—ahem, time to eat, my Justice Envoy little sister."

My brain hadn’t reset from the system’s forced rewiring. "Master" almost slipped out…

I called her "Justice Envoy" for a reason.

Yingning’s face flushed crimson. Flustered, she snatched a toilet paper roll and hurled it. "I said never call me that!"

I caught it, set it on the kitchen table, and smirked. Then I turned to grab the milk.

Huh? Killing intent?

I ducked sideways—just in time to dodge another roll.

Yingning stared, mouth agape. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head?!"

"Just guessed your move. You’ve done this before…" I placed the milk on the table beside sliced ham and bread.

Pouting, Yingning clutched her glass, ready to gulp it down.

"Don’t choke… Oh, it’s six-thirty," I warned kindly.

"...cough cough cough!"

"Told you not to choke… klutz," I sighed.

She glared. "Eat fast! No time!"

"Class starts at seven-thirty. Rushing to uphold world peace again, Justice Envoy?"

"No nonsense! Eat!"

"Yes, yes, oh mighty Justice Envoy."

This was our ordinary morning routine.

After breakfast, we headed downstairs.

"Good morning, Uncle Liu!"

"Oh, Yingning! Off to school?"

"Mhm!"

"Yingning’s grown so lovely…"

"Her brother too—getting lovelier every day…"

I watched Yingning greet neighbors with boundless energy while I trailed behind like a bodyguard.

But "lovelier"? Can you even compliment properly?!

Annoyed, I swung onto the bike. Yingning hopped on back, arms wrapped around my waist.

I didn’t pedal. Instead, I turned sternly. "Customer, what gear?"

"Fourth—no, fifth!" Bread muffled her words, but her urgency was clear.

"That desperate? Upholding justice?"

She pinched my waist hard, snapping in frustration. "Yes! Justice! Drive!"

Fluffy clouds drifted ahead, blocking the blinding morning sun.

The bike sped down the tree-lined path, startling flocks of chirping sparrows.

Passersby glanced our way. Familiar faces waved; Yingning beamed back at each.

This was my life—less thrill, more calm.

Yingning suddenly shook me, shouting, "Wait! Stop!"

Hmm… my days were peaceful. But Yingning?

She was the Justice Envoy, after all.