Yekase put on a show for Lin Xiaomo, spinning an Alchemy program from Polaris Staff like a silver thread in moonlight, but the air stayed dull and still. A little disappointed, she still strengthened the stage apparatus for her, for the shared joy of slacking like fish drifting under shade.

Using Ancient Alchemy to refit a modern spell was a hammer dropping onto paper—clean, crushing, done. She folded away her iron staff and headed home with Ling Yi, their footsteps tapping like rain on stone.

“Winter break homework is a mountain. Doctor, help me shovel a bit?”

“Just copy a classmate. It’s faster than wind.”

“They’ll spot it!”

“Don’t tell me you think teachers actually check winter homework. At best they make you swap and grade.”

Yekase spoke like a veteran walking a well-worn road. Ten years of plagiarism and cheating—her badge of dusty honor. Winter homework to her was a fly on glass.

Ling Ya slipped into the room, soft as dusk, and greeted Yekase.

It felt like ages since they’d properly talked. Ever since the island boot camp, every move had been a whole-team tide.

“Sis Yezi’s everywhere, right? I keep catching your silhouette in all sorts of places.”

“Ahaha, am I?”

“Especially, two days ago—you soloed ‘Blue Azure Hand’.”

“…Huh?”

Two days ago?

Yekase’s brows jumped like startled birds. Two days ago she’d been buried in the lab, wrestling submersion loops like weeds in a flooded field. Wipe out what, a ghost?

She’d tangled with ‘Blue Azure Hand’ once—textbook E-rank, top three in Haizhou District. Their only brag was two mechs, and even those were more tin than thunder.

Someone impersonated her? But where’s the gain in that—pretending to crush a Sinister Organization? Any formal group can declare war and cleanly erase another; the ritual’s legal and happens daily like tides. Playing hero adds trouble without harvest.

“Any photos? Video?”

“No. As expected of Sis Yezi—your counter-surveillance is smoke in wind, impossible to learn.”

…

A faceless stranger erased a mech-owning outfit, and the ripple later said it was Mechbreaker. To outsiders, that news was lacquered smooth.

What’s the game…? No matter who did it, what purpose hides behind a move with zero profit?

“Doctor.” Ling Yi watched her, eyes like clear water. She knew Yekase had gone home days ago; she knew the scent of something off.

Yekase shook her head—like a cat dismissing rain. No idea yet. Later.

“Oh—right! I brought a heap of rare snacks from my hometown’s little shop!”

She pinched air with her right hand. Pack after pack clatter-clattered from a portal crate, spilling into a candy hill on the floor.

“Oh, whoa! You hauled a whole warehouse!”

“This… I saw in videos. Latiao—spicy strips, right? Rural shops still sell ten-year-old legends?”

“A hometown friend’s heading to the city for work. He sold me stock before he left. I recommend these cola candies in a plastic jar! Small jar, master-made flavor—”

…

They ate dinner at the Ling house, then Yekase and Ling Yi wandered under streetlamps like two fireflies.

Ling Ya almost joined, but saw words perched on Yekase’s lips like birds. She retreated with the excuse of grinding a new game.

Thinking of it, Ling Yi hadn’t seen the sky island yet. So they took Shen Shanshan’s little outpost as a soft destination and strolled slow as drifting clouds.

“Doctor, you’ve changed a lot,” Ling Yi said, a smile like warm tea.

“Mm? Have I?”

“At first, you were… a tangled ball of fur.”

“Not even a living creature?!”

“Warm and thoughtful, but distant like fog. Strong as steel, but tired like ash…”

“And now?”

“A sleek, shiny ball of fur.”

“Still a furball.”

“Because you’re cute!” Ling Yi hugged her, like wind wrapping willow. “Crimson Field already started wearing dresses. I’m worried her girl-route’s too fast.”

“I’ve worn dresses too.”

“Doctor in a skirt doesn’t give little-girl vibes.”

“Boy vibes then?”

“Nope. With you… gender floats like mist. Jeans or skirts, both or neither, you’re just you—Doctor.”

“Superposition, huh.” Yekase laughed. She sipped her passionfruit double-blast soda, bubbles popping like sparks, then said:

“Come spring, I’m heading to Europe’s Ivalice State University. I’ll set up the world’s first Flash Energy classroom.”

“Ah…”

“If you want to be my first cohort, I can crack a side door.”

“I’ll get in myself!”

“Good fire. Then you’ll do your winter homework solo?”

“Don’t roast me… Honestly, my scores are decent! I can make first-tier!”

“Probably.”

“On your scale, I’d score what?”

“Twenty-five.”

“So cruel?!”

They walked on and found a new cream puff shop. Ten puffs: four cream, four strawberry, two chocolate. They split them on a street bench under neon like falling petals.

Mouth full of cream, Ling Yi said, “Official Hero’s been on regular patrols this month. Numbers went up.”

“Mm.”

“But online reviews aren’t kind.”

“Main flames say they lose to freelance heroes. Response is slow. They wait till organizational disputes end, then rescue civilians.”

“That’s it! ‘Just cleaning the battlefield for orgs’—comments like that flood in. Anonymous forums even split into pro and anti camps.”

Yekase had seen that storm coming. She only nodded, like tapping a barometer.

All right—what’s your next step, Gu Xiangshi?

Her influence was weaker than she’d hoped. She couldn’t halt two orgs on the spot with face alone. Official Hero’s role sat awkward, a cat on a fence—but as long as “make heroes harmless” stayed their core, low-level fighters and their families would stand behind her like rows of saplings.

Play dead in public opinion. Stretch the front line across years. People will get used to Official Heroes the way they got used to Sinister Organizations—like mold in a damp city.

But Yekase’s gut whispered, Gu Xiangshi wanted more.

Otherwise, back in Cloudlong City, she wouldn’t have risked her heiress life to shield survivors in an inn. That urge—“do something more”—and any step born from it would snap the thin balance like glass filaments and drop everything into a black gorge.

Thinking that, Yekase’s mood lifted like a kite catching a clean wind.

Her leg swung, a pendulum under a streetlamp.

By the fourth puff, an idea cracked open. “We’ve got time. Let’s loop around and visit Gear Street?”

“Emerald Pool ruins? I’m in!”

“Steel Seven and the Purification Sisters dumped funds and hired craftsmen. Two months of hammer and sweat—it’s no longer ruins.”

That thought irked Yekase like grit in a shoe. Steel Seven saved. The Purification Sisters did their best. Even she wired money in secret. What’s Lily Sword doing?

Lily Sword’s busy with political vetting of rookies.

Goddammit.

Steeped long in Infinite Power, both were quick on foot, like runners chasing dawn. They reached the Emerald Pool base where they’d fought day and night without breath.

Steel Seven also took the office building above. They refit it into paid study rooms and rental apartments—steady income like a slow river.

Three security guards and a Lily Sword squad leader stood in the lobby, staggered like chess pieces.

“Good evening, everyone. Tough night, everyone. Happy New Year, everyone.”

The Lily Sword captain came forward—a woman in her twenties, unpainted light armor, a knight’s sword at her hip, a shield on her back like a moon.

“Please show your passes.”

Yekase scratched her head like a puzzled sparrow. “Passes? Don’t have any. We came to get them.”

“Then please apply on the online platform. Please return.”

She clasped both hands behind her like closing a gate—polite but firm.

Yekase and Ling Yi traded a look, a small ripple on calm water.

Then Yekase crossed her arms and started the script.

“Didn’t Bull say Gear Street should be a sanctuary for those persecuted by orgs? Queue, appointment, paperwork—that’s years of winter. People will get persecuted to death.”

“This protects Gear Street’s purity, keeps bad actors out. Please understand.”

“I’m saying your process is too long. Trim the thorns.”

“Without complete screening, how do we ensure residents’ safety? Will you guarantee it?”

“I’m saying the process… Eh, forget it.”

She sounded reasonable, like stone. Keep arguing and I’ll get tangled in my own net, Yekase thought. She stepped back, whispered with Ling Yi, then returned wearing a sunny grin.

“What now?”

“We’ll apply for passes later. But one more thing. I’m a friend of Steel Seven. I’ve got some confidential intel for them and the Purification Sister.”

Suspicion flickered in the captain’s eyes, a blade catching light.

“Don’t believe me? I’ll call Bull.”

She pulled out her phone on the spot. Dialed.

“…Hello? Bixiu-jie, Happy New Year. Mm, mm, I’m at Gear Street’s gate—no, no need to let me in. I’ll go by the book—mm, I’ve got a fairly urgent intel for you—great, thanks.”

Yekase hung up and shrugged at the slightly dazed captain, like tossing a pebble into a pond.

“You heard that. I won’t make it hard. I’ll get tickets the normal way. But I’ll still push to simplify.”

“Mm… oh…”

She just called Bull “Bixiu-jie”? And wished Happy New Year?

The captain felt a small wobble, like stepping on soft ground. She’d assumed this young, soft-looking girl was at most someone Steel Seven had saved once—a ‘friend’ polished by her own mouth. But she was real friends? Steel Seven hadn’t left the base in years. Were they friends from long back?

Yekase and Ling Yi waited quietly in the lobby for ten minutes. Heavy, rhythmic footsteps rose from the corridor like drums. All eyes turned like sunflowers.

A strong woman entered the hall.

“Bull” Bixiu Yi.

“Ika, Ika, this way!”

“Don’t call me Ika. I’m Yekase!”

Yekase waved at the captain, then strode toward Bixiu Yi like an arrow toward its mark.

“Ika? …Icarus?!”

That Magical Girl? The one whose debut dragged collective memory back like a tide, who repelled an external entity, then kept moving at a pace that makes you wonder if she ever studies or works—Magical Girl Icarus?

—Yekase suddenly came back.

“Uh!”

The captain went rigid, a deer under a spotlight. Is she coming to press charges in one breath?

“I’ve got an Infinite Power mechanical product. Install it in your hall, and it dampens malice, shoos away unwanted guests—like incense that clears air. Entertainment spots in Twin Towers City love it. Want one? Twenty-day free trial.”

Yekase smiled like sunrise, slipped a camera-shaped device into the captain’s hands, then waved and jogged back.