Slurp.

He sets the blonde girl on the bed, her sleep dropping like a stone into deep water.

Quiet settling like snow, Lu Ke pulls a long-neglected cup of instant noodles from the cabinet.

With Xiao Qianxue at home, meals have been street lights and shared pots, takeout or the two of them trading aprons.

Gratitude warmed him like a morning sun, but a shadow crept in.

"With her here, life’s been so much easier... but I’ve got a bad feeling this time."

He twirls noodles on a spoon like winding silk.

He props his cheek with his other hand, fatigue painting dusk across his face.

Meanwhile, in the basement of Bloo’s villa—

"Hey, Hoshina..." Bloo speaks, eyes on the news, voice flat as slate.

"Eeeh? Bloo, got something to tell me?!" Hoshina pops in beside him in a maid outfit, excitement fizzing like soda.

Pink irises catch light like cherry petals glazed in dew.

"What’s the side effect of that drug?"

Bloo slips off his sunglasses and a blue, tech-metal glove.

He sets them on the small table like laid-out tools.

Every joint on the glove is crafted fine as clockwork, hinting at teeth beneath the velvet.

"Ah-la-la, that, huh. I knew a bit about its formula back in the organization."

A flash of white swims in Bloo’s deep-blue eyes.

Hoshina’s avatar clicks into a crisp office look, sharp as a paper cutter.

"Three families’ labs built it together, for war."

"Turn a normal person into a superpowered one, mass-produced like coins—terrifying if it ever rolls off the line."

"Tch. Ants."

His tone stays level, but the sneer slides like cold steel.

"Focus, okay!"

"They tested it on animals first."

"Their bodies turned brilliant like tempered steel."

"Killing instinct sharpened like a hawk’s talon."

"After a while, they lost the leash."

"They tore at kin and at everything around them."

"Then they dropped dead, as if the flame burned the wick to ash."

Bloo’s face doesn’t ripple.

"Normal result."

"They kept tuning it."

"Last run was on a gorilla, and the result looked much better."

"Guess how they tested?" Hoshina angles her gaze to his cold profile, moonlight on a blade’s edge.

"Go on."

"No fun, you."

"They tied a banana to a rig, then sent it flying at near impossible speed, a dragonfly dart you couldn’t track."

"They placed the injected gorilla far away, stones at its feet."

"It threw every stone, each hit landing not on the banana, but the slender string above it."

"Snip—and the banana fell."

"And the gorilla?" Bloo lifts his tea, steam coiling like mountain mist.

"Soon into a rage, of course, but at least it didn’t die from that."

"Or rather... it died slow." Hoshina signals a bot; his cup fills, ripple soft as rain.

"So you injected her with this?" Bloo frowns, the idea of turning Xiao Qianxue into a mad dog grating like sand.

"Of course not! That day we were escaping—"

"Not escaping. Evacuating."

His voice snaps clean as a twig.

"Evacuating! We grabbed their latest sample, not even tested."

"I reworked it and used it on Xiao Qianxue."

A grin curves; she flicks back to a maid avatar, virtual body pressing warm as sunlight against Bloo.

He has no good angle to push her off.

"Those idiots can’t even brew a proper drug."

"Now, only in specific, low-chance conditions will it trigger a rampage."

"Even then, you can sometimes come back."

"The method needs study."

"They lost the sample, and I wiped the data clean like sea foam."

"Rebuilding it will be like climbing to the sky."

"Plus, I added a few extra effects."

"Hope they blossom."

"We’ll see tomorrow."

"She’s the first human subject, you know."

Night drifts down like ink.

The blonde girl finally stirs, foggy as a winter breath.

With Lu Ke’s help, she eats a bowl of noodles, then dozes off again, a feather falling.

"Sigh, nothing else to do. Hope one night’s sleep steadies her."

Lu Ke notices jasmine soaking his clothes like rain in silk, smiles helplessly, and leaves the room.

At dawn, the blonde girl shuffles into the hall, haze still clinging like gauze.

On the table lies a note, neat as rice paper.

"Xue’er, I’ve got business today and can’t stay to look after you."

"I’m sorry. Please take care of yourself."

"Love, your brother."

"Eh? Did I crash early last night?" She tilts her head, cute as a sparrow.

Clarity pours in like spring water; everything looks sharper than battle mode.

She glances down at breakfast—eggs and sausage arranged into a smiling face, simple as a child’s sun.

"Bro really went to the trouble. I was kind of selfish, huh."

Once everything’s set, Little Loli gets Bloo’s message.

"How do you feel?"

She slips into the Mercedes; Bloo asks while the engine purrs like a big cat.

"Much better than yesterday, all around."

Her smile is sweet as candied haw, time with Bloo sanding down his frost.

On the road, Bloo floors the pedal; the car threads traffic at impossible speed, a needle through silk.

The blonde girl leans on the window and flicks a tiny paper ball.

It dances on the air like a moth.

Then it slips cleanly into the window of a car racing toward them.

"Seeing so much is tiring," she murmurs.

She stretches like a cat, then curls small and sleeps, a pebble by the riverbank.

Not long after, they return to the basement, concrete cool as a cave.

"Good morning, Xiao Qianxue. Feels great, right?" Hoshina twirls in a vivid dress, colors bright as peonies.

"It’s fine. But if it’s only this, it won’t be enough..."

"No, no, no! This is just a slice."

She snaps her fingers—crack—and a hidden door yawns from the wall like a secret mouth.

"In you go. Today we’ll test your abilities, and I’ll teach the right way to use them."

Hoshina practically vibrates with glee, hope bobbing like lanterns on a river.

The three slip through and descend another level, steps echoing like drums.

A vast open floor spreads before them, bare as a desert.

"Watch closely!"

Hoshina flicks her wrist; targets bloom from far to near—pop, pop, pop—like flowers waking.

Racks rise around them, bristling with exquisite firearms.

Each piece bears unique patterns, metal singing like ink on porcelain.

From rifles to pistols, butterfly knives to karambits, a whole constellation of cold weapons gleams.

They don’t look like tools of death, but galleries of art.

"When did you build this?" Bloo asks, genuinely unaware, voice calm as a lake.

"Secret~"