“Huff… huff… finally made it to the community.” Little Loli braced one hand against a tree; leaves trembled over her knuckles as she lifted her chin toward the distance.
A hundred meters ahead, a lavish enclave rose like a gleaming island. The gate flaunted four gilded characters: Longhua Community. Towers speared the sky, and neon stitched the dark like a lone morning star.
Her body, though, was a wreck under the hood. She wore an oversized hoodie, but inside her skin and gold hair were slick with blood, sticky as summer tar. “Ugh, it’s awful—midday heat, blood glued to me, trapped under fabric. Boohoo… just let me get home and shower. Even the thought feels like cool rain.”
Misery ebbed; hope sparked. At the thought of hot water, stars flickered in her golden eyes.
“But… how do I get in? If they see an oversized walking hoodie, they’ll get suspicious. What do I do?” Panic rose like a tight drumbeat, and tears threatened. “Forget it. I’ll rush it. My body now isn’t normal, hehe.” On the way, curiosity had tugged at her; she’d tested her engine—about an adult’s power. The strength and speed switched on like a light, and off she was the same cute Little Loli as before.
“Hey, Old Zhang, you on duty today?” In Longhua’s security office, a younger guard chatted with a veteran whose face was weathered like old bark. “Yeah. I wanted to grab drinks with those muddle-headed geezers and play a few hands, but you’re new. The property’s worried you lack experience, so I’m here to teach you. Listen up.” Old Zhang sized the rookie up with a steady eye.
“I’ll study hard. I won’t let the property or you down—sorry, I’m in an edgy teenage phase lately.” The young man’s serious face tried to be steel. “Good, good. Hahaha. Old Zhang’s got someone to carry the torch.”
He turned to the glowing wall of screens. “Watch closely. This is the newest system—Weimengshi. It can sweep the whole community with ease, no delay. You see everything, clear as daylight.” He spoke like hammer taps, crisp and exact.
“Old Zhang, you sure this system never fails?” the rookie asked, voice pinched by doubt. “Of course. A high-end place like this won’t skimp on safety….” Old Zhang was ready to ramble on, when the young man cut in, the words tripping like a pebble down a slope: “I just saw a gray blur streak through that camera.”
“The gate cam, huh? I’ll pull the recording.” His mouth kept talking, but his hands moved like a practiced river. Skill flowed out of him, smooth and sure. “Ah! That’s it, that’s it!” The rookie jabbed at the screen, finger shaking at the gray smear. Old Zhang didn’t hesitate; his palm hit the alarm. The siren leaped up like a red throat, howling.
“Infiltration successful. With speed like this, it’s child’s play.” Little Loli glanced back at the gate shrinking behind her and smiled, bright as a quick blade—then the alarm screamed. “Seriously? No face at all. I just got in…” She pouted; that small, carved face could melt a stone—shame no one saw it.
“There! I see her!” a guard shouted. The rest charged like maddened bulls, boots drumming the ground. Guards here weren’t amateurs; most were ex-soldiers or sturdy youths, shoulders like stacked bricks.
She had an adult’s engine now, but short legs bit like shackles; the pack closed in. “Almost—just a little more and I’ll reach the building!” Inside, Wu Hao yelled, the thought beating like fists on a door.
“I’ve got her!” A guard snatched the loose hem of her oversized coat. He slammed her down, pinning her with her back up, breath pressed flat. In that split-second before impact, she whipped a plastic bag of stockings to her face as a cushion. If her face got wrecked, Little Loli would rather die—beauty was a porcelain mask she refused to crack.
“Ahhh! What the hell—grabbed by creeps before, now grabbed by security. Boohoo, how cursed am I? Is being a transmigrator this unlucky?” Wu Hao wanted to hang the idiot who sent him across worlds about eight hundred times. He thought about flipping his power, but there were too many eyes. Use it, and he’d be a wanted shadow.
“Bold, breaking in without permission.” The captain’s voice cut like a baton. “Turn him over. Let me see his face.” They rolled her carefully, face up.
She lay there crying, like petals soaked by rain. Gold irises shimmered with tears; her little face flushed pink; her lips pressed tight, trembling, ready to burst. The guards froze, minds blanked by surprise. They’d wrestled a ghost and caught a Little Loli—an impossibly cute one.
“Waaah! Aahhh! So many scary uncles bullying me!” Her cry shot up like a flare. It pulled residents from their nests; the alarm had already dragged half the hive out, and now the crowd swelled into a tide. The walkways clogged solid, packed so tight even water couldn’t slip through.
Wrapped in bodies and summer air, the copper tang of blood drowned under perfume, sweat, and city dust. Even if someone caught a whiff, it muddied into the scent of an unwashed day. No one suspected Little Loli.
From the crowd, a shout cracked like thunder: “Who’s bullying my daughter?!”
