“A chance born of accident, too,” the glowing orb murmured, drifting like a lantern fish through dusk air, wobbling once before settling in front of Nana Toki.

“It began in a thunder-lashed storm more than ten years ago,” it said, voice like rain on stone. “That was my first step outside my magnetic domain, into human society to seek Misty Tide. I underestimated the cost of leaving my field. Within days, stripped of magnetism, I grew so weak I couldn’t even crawl, like a beached eel under cold moonlight.”

“I wanted to live,” the orb circled Nana Toki, trailing a faint halo like frost. “To live, I had to do something.”

“You know,” it floated like a drifting seed, “besides magnetism, we can inhabit dead bodies and become Corpse Devourers. But Corpse Devourers can’t survive in human cities. So I chose a living body.”

It went quiet, like snow muffling a road.

“And you were my choice.”

“Me?” She pointed at herself, shock flaring like a startled deer under torchlight. That twist wasn’t in anything the damn System had fed her.

Huh?

Wait.

Memory?

The thought snapped like a dry twig. No wonder something felt off; the gaps were a pit under fog.

In the System’s memories, she lived alone, her parents dead early. But why was she alone? How did her parents die? The System’s threads had no knots, just a clean cut, like a river severed by ice.

The gap had felt too natural to question. Now, looking back, it was all a setup, a trap baited with mist.

“You’ve started to notice,” the orb hovered close, voice soft as night tide. “For someone living as human this long, you have no childhood memories.”

“All because of me.” The orb glided to her face like a moon. “To let an ordinary body bear my magnetism, I spent my last spark to reshape the environment—conjuring lightning and rain to force your magnetic field into alignment, so you and I could be compatible, like two gears under the same storm.”

No wonder her ability strengthened itself, and Misty Tide could eat it. The threads finally braided, like wind weaving reeds.

“To be precise, it wasn’t just you,” the orb’s voice crackled like distant thunder. “Everyone within that storm’s range, I altered. Only you lived.”

“The girl beside you should know,” it slid toward Luo Shanshan like a pale moth. “About that storm ten-plus years ago—she was the only witness on site. We met, just before I entered her body. I split off part of my magnetism into yours.”

“In me?” Luo Shanshan frowned, confusion fogging like dew on glass. Her mind held little of that storm; she only remembered it was her first meeting with Yu Xi.

“That’s probably where your strange ability came from,” Nana Toki said, voice steady as a river stone. “The one that erases every other ability’s effect.”

“Ability?” The orb tilted, curious as a sparrow. “What’s that?”

“You don’t know?” Luo Shanshan explained, words like chalk lines on a board. “Anyone who survives the thick fog Misty Tide summons gets a special ability—fire, lightning, wind, that kind of thing.”

“That’s not some magical power.” The orb chuckled, like rain drumming a roof. “It’s just the fog’s magnetic field altering the survivors’ fields. Those so-called abilities are magnetic variations, sprouts born from storm-soaked soil.”

“To Misty Tide, such humans are food,” it added, voice cool as winter.

“Eh? Food?” Luo Shanshan jolted, fear skittering like dry leaves. “Misty Tide eats people?”

“Awooo~” Misty Tide beside them gave a theatrical dragonish roar, gold eyes gleaming like coins in flame.

“I see.” Nana Toki stayed calm, a blade lying quiet in its sheath. That explained why Misty Tide was called the killer of Fog City. Those altered by the fog carried the magnetism Misty Tide craved, so hunting became natural, like hawk to rabbit.

“Still, what does all this have to do with us?” Nana Toki asked, tone flat as slate. She had a side quest hanging like a storm cloud.

“First, I want to thank you,” the orb said, sincerity clear as spring water. “You helped me find Misty Tide and let her live.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied, like tossing a pebble into a pond.

“Second… I’m truly sorry. I caused your parents’ deaths back then.” The orb’s voice sank, ash over embers. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“Whatever. It’s been so many years the faces blur like fog,” Nana Toki said, heart cool as early dawn. She’d reincarnated; the original parents were more ink than blood in her mind. Forgive or not, she didn’t clutch the weight. The orb’s politeness surprised her, like a crane bowing in snow.

“Also… though it’s shameless, could I ask a favor?” Its glow flickered like a shy firefly.

Host, we still have a Misty Tide side quest. Do we do it?

Do it my ass. Scram.

Nana Toki snapped, temper flaring like a struck match.

This one side quest was a slog across thorns. Stack another, and when do we rest under sun?

System: “……” The System got shot lying flat, like grass under rain.

“Let’s be clear,” Nana Toki said, warning like a raised flag. “I don’t do arson or murder. I only take jobs where I can lie at home and count money.”

“......”

“I’m not asking you to do crimes,” the orb said, earnest as a monk’s bell. “In the days ahead, please protect Misty Tide from others. I meant to take her back, but she’s living well among humans. I’ll let it be.”

“And you?” Nana Toki eyed the orb, gaze a needle under silk. With a glow like that, guarding one airheaded beast should be easy.

“I’m returning to my own place,” it said, tone steady as a mountain line. “Though I coexist with Misty Tide, it’s based on her not dying. She lives, I live.”

“If you stayed in this city, I could manage,” Nana Toki murmured, thoughts like smoke. One of her tasks asked as much, but she had no desire to chase a fool across the map.

“Misty Tide will stick to you. Don’t worry,” the orb said, certainty hard as iron.

“Then I accept,” Nana Toki answered, simple as rain.

“Then I leave it to you.” The orb popped—gone in a soft spark, like it had never been, silence falling like snow.

“Ding! Side Quest [Lord of the Fog City] complete. Reward added to settlement.”

“Ding! Main Quest [Peak Attained] complete. Reward added to settlement.”

Two chimes rang like silver bells. In a blink, Nana Toki cleared both, the echo soft as mist.

Only the hidden quest remained, a shadow under moon.

“Xixi, what do we do next?” Luo Shanshan tugged Nana Toki’s sleeve, nerves fluttering like sparrow wings, eyes on the vanished white glow.

“What else? We go one step at a time,” Nana Toki said, voice like a slow river. She stowed her Black Great Axe, then walked out with Misty Tide and Luo Shanshan. Sunlight broke through in slender spears. On a street strewn with wreckage like fallen leaves, Nana Toki squinted at the sun and sighed, heart like a drumhead struck once.

This damn junk System is pure pain.

System: “……” Shot while sleeping, like a bamboo raft hit by a stray arrow.

…

Back in the hum of real life, news that Nana Toki was making Corpse Devourers in Fog City rippled through society like a cold wind. Panic bloomed. Many petitioned their local governments to send troops and kill her, their words a flurry of black birds.

They claimed she couldn’t be allowed in human society. They prophesied terror attacks, a heap of fears stacked like skulls.

The government smothered it quickly, a lid on boiling broth. The hidden reason? On a moonless, wind-razed night, Nana Toki took Misty Tide and Luo Shanshan and paid each official a house-call, door by door, like a winter fox visiting coops.

“How about we make peace?” she asked, the Black Great Axe resting at a man’s throat like ice.

“You keep out of Fog City. In return, I grant you a monthly quota—one hundred ordinary people, qualified to become ability users.” Her offer glittered like a coin tossed on a table.

“I—”

“No conditions,” she said, voice like a blade edge. No hills to bargain on.

Misty Tide stared with golden eyes, unblinking as a hunting cat, making little gulping sounds like a river swallowing stones.

Those officials’ backdoors clenched tight, fear puckering like dried persimmons.

“Good… good…” they stammered, life dangling like a lamp in wind.

To keep those dogs from breaking leash, she gifted each one an Ability Bloom before they left—petals like frost glass. If she wished, she could turn them into Corpse Devourers from ten thousand leagues away, the tether a ghost chain through fog.

Elsewhere, Jiang Xinli faded after the fog, spirit frayed like thread. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t take shocks. A glimpse of sharp blades or red liquid sent her screaming, emotions whirling like a squall.

Nana Toki later heard Jiang Xinli died. On the way to the hospital, a car struck her, news scattering like crows. The first ability user’s death became a storm across the city. Nana Toki only sighed, a willow in rain.

Bei Yuan vanished after speaking with Nana Toki. He seemed to accept he couldn’t return, settling in a small place, roots in quiet soil.

Once Nana Toki took Fog City, the ruin unfurled back into prosperity, like spring greening X City. It held both ability users and ordinary folk, lanterns and hearths lit side by side.

Newcomers soon found the ruler wasn’t the ruthless tyrant of rumors. She was more down-to-earth than officials elsewhere, a warm flame instead of a cold knife.

Nana Toki renovated her home, walls bright as freshly washed stone. Since Misty Tide would live with her, the house had to grow, rooms like open courtyards.

“What?! Misty Tide’s moving in with Xixi?” Luo Shanshan, from downtown, stormed over with luggage, fire in her steps. Her excuse was sweet as candy haw: “Closer is better. We can watch out for each other.”

Nana Toki let them be, calm as old pine.

Watch one brat or two brats—it’s all herding ducklings under the same sky. She’d grown used to it, a shepherd of stormlings.

In this world, Nana Toki’s days went smooth, like tea poured steady. At home she read memos like leaves. When free, she fed Misty Tide milk, simple as moonlight in a bowl. Then she went on a writing site, posted novels, and promptly ghosted them, disappearing like mist at noon.

She perfected the art of not acting human, a monk of idleness, a queen of slacking.

Nana Toki lived past eighty, then passed, quiet as a candle snuffing out. She never married, had no romance, walking single under the long sky to the end.