Yekase lay spent on the floor, like a kite with its string cut in a windless sky.

Her hands were wrapped in black fabric that gleamed like moonlight on lacquer, the weave running under her sleeves all the way to her shoulders.

Jiang Bailu had conjured, from who knows where, a wicked iron-hoop lock; it bit her arms like a trap, and no raw strength could pry it open.

Her legs were fine; she wore pantyhose during transformations anyway, though this set didn’t even bother with a crotch panel, a clean break like scissors through silk.

Rice Rice, spooked by the wild momentum of two women locking Yekase down, darted under the cabinet and hid in a slit of shadow like a field mouse.

“I’ll give the Doctor a proper breakdown of what this gear does and why,” Jiang said, breath ebbing like tide while she sank into the sofa.

“Because you lean on Flash Energy and abuse your body on reckless runs, I need to correct that and teach you to cherish yourself,” she said, voice cool as rain.

Liu RuoYuan nodded fast, agreement rippling like reeds in a steady wind.

“Before the fusion I did plenty of that…” Yekase muttered, the memory of two rooftop drops flashing like lightning she still can’t believe she rode.

“Hmm?”

“No, no, keep going,” she said, swallowing the spark like a coal under ash.

“These gloves and stockings render the Flash Energy in your limbs inert, like frost on wire; no strength buff comes through,” Jiang said, tone even as glass.

“With them on, your physical power equals a real nine-year-old girl, a small branch you shouldn’t try to bend too far.”

“What if danger comes?” The worry hit first like a cold wave, then she resigned herself; Mira’s Cloudlong City run wasn’t something she could dodge.

“Endurance, recovery, and senses stay boosted, like anchors under storm water,” Jiang said, calm as night.

“I surveyed ten-plus Infinite Power fusions worldwide; those three are shared, a constellation you can navigate by even when clouds roll in.”

“Focus varies—Mind Energy favors recovery—but as long as Infinite Power remains in you, these passives won’t drop like leaves,” she said.

“Oh… so skills get silenced, but the stat sheet stays,” Yekase said, a breath loosening like steam.

“I’m still tougher than average. Better than I feared,” she added, eyes narrowing like a fox reading tracks.

“Can you find that in half an hour? And even craft a finished piece?” Suspicion ticked like rain against a window; Jiang felt like someone who plants before spring.

“Flash Energy has an extra evolution trait: adaptation to environment, like skin learning weather,” Jiang said, her words steady as river stones.

“That ace stays whole. Relax, I’d never let the Doctor take extra risk,” she added, a promise laid down like a lantern on a sill.

“Impressive,” Liu said, sincere as clear water.

Yekase couldn’t find a flaw; she lowered her gaze to her hands turned textile-black, ten fingers tightening and opening like waves cresting and drawing back.

There was a… wrapped sensation, a cocooning like silk over bark, familiar as pantyhose but strange on skin that feels the world.

On the more sensitive palms, it felt off, like her hands were half a step away from belonging to her, drifting like gloves in someone else’s pocket.

“How am I supposed to use my phone?” She let the blush cool first, then tossed the question like a pebble to steer the current.

“It won’t interfere, except touch will feel a bit dull, like grain under snow,” Jiang said.

“That’s a pretty big interfere,” Yekase said, frown folding like a fan.

“The goal is to make you stop playing the bruiser and lean into your gadget build, a craftsman over a hammer,” Jiang said, voice firm as a post.

“But I already fight with everything at hand,” Yekase said, heat rising like a kettle.

“Lots of tools trigger at point-blank; with these, I’m out,” she added, the corner of her mouth a tight string.

“Bend the bow too far to straighten it,” Jiang said, a proverb turned leaf.

“Even if it’s just surface, I hope you’ll play a gentle, quiet little witch for a while and ditch melee,” she added, like chalk on a board.

Yekase scratched her head, confusion fogging like morning mist that won’t lift.

“What’s the use? The boss that can wring me dry isn’t street trash,” she said, logic clacking like abacus beads.

“With normal foes, I rest and bounce back,” she added, shrugging like a branch under sparrows.

“…Bro.” Liu’s voice brushed her like wind against the back of the neck, soft but cold.

Their eyes met, four points like lanterns in a dark lane.

“Have you thought about this? You charge into melee with no armor and get slashed once,” she said, the image cutting like a blade.

“Your body might heal fast, but our worry doesn’t,” she finished, a weight that doesn’t drain like rain barrels.

“…”

“Do it for me, okay? Be a lady,” she said, plea hanging like a ribbon.

…Yekase could only nod, a leaf turning with the stream.

The mood’s gravity left no room for any other reaction, a storm that closes all windows.

She gathered herself quickly, logic stitching like thread; valuing herself doesn’t mean abandoning melee, just wearing close-fit armor when she dives.

But the chance to argue had passed like a train; she let it go, a hand off the rail.

…She’d ride out this phase, a night watch until dawn.

Unexpected experience might even come, seeds sprouting in cracks; looking back, she saw how she’d leaned too hard on her Flash Energy buff.

That wasn’t a good sign, like sugar rotting the tooth under a smile.

If one day she felt nothing, and used her body like a disposable tool under “evolution,” would that Yekase still be herself?

She didn’t mind not being human, as long as her will stayed unbent, a blade that doesn’t warp in the forge.

Still, one thing bugged her, a thorn under skin.

“Both of you know who I am inside,” she said, gaze like a line.

“Why keep pushing ‘little witch’ and ‘lady’? Plenty of normal words exist. Is this roleplay?” she asked, a stone dropped into a pond.

She looked at Jiang Bailu. Jiang whistled and let her eyes slide off like a fish.

She looked at Liu RuoYuan. Liu grabbed the remote and flipped channels like leaves in wind.

These two—were they the kind to meet and click like long-lost kin, a pair of cranes calling across fog?

“…Whatever. How do I bathe in these?” The practical knot tugged first, then words followed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I prepared this,” Jiang said, fingers fishing like a magician’s dove.

She pulled a folded sheet from her pocket and handed it over, paper crisp as winter bark.

On it: “Cleansing Spell” in bold strokes like calligraphy; inside were learning conditions, fine print like ant trails.

“With that confidence, I expected high tech,” Yekase said, a laugh like dry grass.

“Instead you’re making me learn a spell and wash myself?” she added, eyebrow arched like a bridge.

“No matter how high tech, it’s thin fabric,” Jiang said, shrug cool as shade.

“If you prefer, I can develop mechanical gauntlets and thigh-high boots; those can fit self-cleaning,” she added, temptation like sugar on the rim.

“And some more… interesting—”

“Learning more magic sounds great!” Yekase cut her off like a fan snapped shut, choosing rain over wires.

She bent over the conditions at once, focus narrow as a needle.

She liked simple gauntlets and boots, but Jiang made them; who knows what hidden functions she’d sneak in?

Wear them, and that woman might purr, “This armor will be your new cage,” iron words like bars—no thanks.

Ten minutes later, Yekase had learned the Cleansing Spell, a handy little cantrip like a pocket spring.

She felt the spell take hold, a cool sweep like wind through reeds; she nodded, yet something still scraped wrong.

“It’s clean, sure, but going so long without showers? My mind can’t take it,” she said, itch crawling like ants.

“Then take them off to shower, and put them back on right away,” Jiang said, solution neat as a knot.

“Fine, fine…” The topic went stale in her mouth like cold tea; she set it down.

She eyed the night and wondered what the three of them could play, curiosity flickering like a moth.

She rummaged the closet and pulled out a box with a chessboard lid, wood grain like ripples.

“What’s that?” Liu asked, voice lifting like a sparrow.

Bailu squinted, memory stirring like silt.

“Ah, the one the Doctor brought to R&D a few times…” she said, recognition like a bell.

“Yep, that one,” Yekase said, tapping the lid like a drum.

Tabletop Simulator.

Inside was a powerful AI that deep-learned the web, then created and ran tabletop text RPGs, a puppetmaster behind a curtain.

Patent number—none; Yekase had bought it online for a few thousand, money gone like seeds cast wide.

She opened the lid; four sets of VR glasses lay inside like shells in a tray.

Yekase handed two to Liu RuoYuan and Jiang Bailu and put on one herself, the band tightening like a headband.

“Use the last save?” The question drifted like smoke.

“Works,” Jiang said, simple as a nod.

Liu had no character. She filled a character sheet in the air, letters hanging like lanterns.

The VR tutorial guided her; under its hand she sculpted one, clay turning to form.

A mascot maxed out in housekeeping, linguistics, and sociology, with zero combat and investigation, a feather in a storm.

“What did you build?!” Yekase barked, shock popping like oil.

She saw the avatar on the board, tapped details, then shouted, voice a cymbal.

The model had a Mii-like doodle face, a head floating off a simple blue cylinder body, geometry like toy blocks.

Next to it stood two avatars: a pink long-straight dual-sword fighter—Yekase’s—and a furry beast-girl—Jiang’s—each from a different painter’s hand.

“It was in the default models,” Liu said, shrugging like a kite tugged by light wind.

“Scroll down. There’s a creative workshop. Didn’t you see?” Yekase said, impatience like a drumbeat.

“There’s that?” Liu’s surprise flicked like a match.

She deleted the rookie mistake and rebuilt; two minutes later, a pink Pokémon-like sitting on an egg popped into place, round as a peach.

“Same skills… whatever, it’s a newbie run,” Yekase said, tossing the pause aside like a stone.

She unpaused.

Time started flowing, the river moving under starlight.

“On the way to investigate the library, Gaiorouiz (P1) finds intel about a mountain village, while Kagemori Man (P2) finds nothing,” the system intoned, words drop like rain.

“Default Name (P3), roll Library Use.”

“A button lit up,” Liu said, and she tapped before finishing, dice clattering like hail.

“Two dice thrown… ninety-nine.”

“…”

“Uh…”

“Default Name (P3) critically fails!” The verdict fell like a hammer.

On the board, the pink phantom walked to a shelf and opened a book; some hidden trap bloomed like a dark flower.

The book unfurled into a black vortex and swallowed Liu’s avatar—and a whole swath around it—like a whirlpool gulping boats.

“Is it ripping our sheets too?!” Yekase cried, voice sharp as a crack.

“Xiaoman! My Xiaoman—wait, maybe I’m not getting pulled? No, I should be—no, I’m far enough not to be!” Jiang yelped, clinging to hope like ivy.

“I’ll cling to the building and resist the pull! Roll Strength!” she shouted, fingers clawing at air.

The vortex didn’t care; it spread like ink, and fresh text bloomed like white on black:

You arrive a thousand years later.

“…Huh?” The word floated like a feather.

The scene returned. The pink egg-sitter and the pink long-straight stood intact in the library, now a ruin with wind through ribs.

Jiang Bailu’s avatar had become a pile of white bones, clean as sun-bleached driftwood.

Yekase slapped the table, sound snapping like a twig.

“The lifespan rule! I can smell the lifespan rule!” she said, nose keen as a fox.

Jiang didn’t speak; she stared, stunned, thoughts stalled like a clock.

“Wanna load the save?” Yekase offered, olive branch like a leaf.

“…Forget it. I should head back,” Jiang said, voice hollow as a shell.

She rose like a sleepwalker and drifted toward the door, steps unmoored like a boat.

It was just a dead character. Did it warrant that reaction? The question scratched like a thorn.

Yekase watched Jiang wobble, no showmanship in it; afraid she’d fold, she rushed up to support her, arms steady as rails.

“I—I’ll walk her out,” she said, concern tightening like a knot.

“Take care…” Liu said, eyes soft as dusk.

She seemed to have noticed something and watched them leave, a lone lamp under a pale moon.