Ningyi spent nearly three full days combing the residential district, time slipping like sand through her fingers, yet no one in Chronos City seemed to know a whisper about the Queen of Time.

Frustration hit first, a chill like night dew; as a System, she even wondered if she’d grabbed the wrong plot thread.

Was it a lockdown on news, or a deeper secret buried like roots under stone? Back on the slum’s main street, her mood was heavy as storm clouds, the failure clinging like damp cloth.

Her master had warned her: the “worldview” she held was only a shard of the host’s mindscape, a lantern in a fog; the rest, she would have to find alone.

But how do you find the hidden map when your eyes are night-blind?

She drifted through the slum street without aim, her thoughts a tangle of briars, when a sharp string of curses sliced the air not far ahead.

A fight? Brawls were common here, weeds between bricks; thugs who loved the taste of power robbed the small and soft for both coin and pride.

Idle and wary in equal measure, the System let curiosity tug her forward like a fishhook.

The target was a little girl; from Ningyi’s angle, the face was blurred like a smudged ink painting, but her pleas rang clear, thin as glass.

Her cries only poured oil on the bullies’ fire; sticks and fists fell in a rain of blows.

“I’ll give you the money! Just don’t hit me anymore!”

“All my money’s yours! Please, let me go!”

“You should’ve handed it over earlier! Now it’s too late!”

“Today you die here!”

Her plea was drowned, a paper boat in a black tide, under their venom and spit; from the shadows, the System felt a prick of recognition, like a splinter under skin.

Then a kick flipped the girl over, and Ningyi froze, heartbeat dropping like a stone. That was her host.

Instinct surged first, hot as a flare—she moved to intervene—

—but a blur broke from the alley mouth before she could step out, a shadow with teeth, and crashed into the pack with a steel bar.

She was a long-haired girl with ink-black hair, moving like a gust knifing down the lane; in the blink of an eye, she was swinging that metal rod like thunder.

“Who even are yo—ah!”

The lead boy took the hit blind; teeth snapped under the steel with a crack, a few white shards flying red through the air.

The scene erupted, a kicked anthill; the three boys who’d been kicking Nainai were dropped in heartbeats, the long-haired girl’s rod thudding again and again.

Their howls rolled in waves, thin and ragged, as the steel traced bruises like storm marks across their arms and backs.

The stink of blood lifted from the filthy ground like iron steam.

Who is… that?

Power that didn’t match her age made Ningyi’s skin prickle like frost; she threw a discreet scan at the girl, a pebble into dark water.

The return hit her with four hard characters: insufficient permissions.

Hell. Someone in her host’s mindscape that she couldn’t read? Was this one of the hidden layers her master had hinted at?

The tide had turned; from the dark, Ningyi watched the long-haired girl lower the last boy and then step toward Nainai, steel rod still in hand.

“You okay?” Her voice was spring-warm, a soft breeze after rain. “I dropped them all. They won’t bully you again. What’s your name? I’m Seven. I just got here today.”

“I’m… Nainai.” Saved and still dazed, Nainai’s answer came stiff, a small voice catching, but Seven didn’t mind at all.

“I saw them pick on you again. Why didn’t you hit back? If it were me, I’d never let them walk over me.”

“Because… I’m too weak… I can’t win… and I don’t dare.”

Nainai hugged her bruised arms, purple blooms under thin skin, tear tracks silvering her cheeks; the look tugged at something primal, a guard-dog’s urge to shield.

It was the first time the System had seen her host so small, a candle in the wind; in her mind, that woman had been born storm-strong, not kicked around by gutter trash.

“Then let me be Nainai’s friend. I’ll make Nainai strong.”

“Eh?”

She hadn’t expected that; the dimness on Nainai’s face flickered, a startled lift, as she stared at the hand reaching toward her. “You want to be my friend?”

“Of course.”

“But… why?” They’d only just met, two leaves crossing in a stream.

“You said you’re weak, right? I’m really strong. If you’re friends with me, you’ll get strong too.”

“What kind of logic is that… it’s so weird…”

“Oh, what’s weird about it? Don’t you believe me?” Seven was the kind who, once she cared, never let go; before Nainai could think, her fingers were caught, small hand lifted.

“Now we’re friends. From today on, let’s play together.”

“Eh…”

People had forced choices on Nainai before, a puppet tugged by strings, but this time she didn’t hate it.

From the shadows, the System held her tongue, air cooling on her teeth. A childhood friend arriving was one thing; a sudden, skilled stranger was another.

She wasn’t like her host at this age, who trusted anyone who offered warmth; “Seven” felt less like a name and more like a codename, stamped and sharp.

You didn’t need the steel bar to prove it, but the steel bar had spoken; there was something uncanny in that girl’s strength.

Best to stick closer to her host for a while, like a shadow at noon. Probe the girl’s roots, one ripple at a time.

With that decided, the System found her host’s little nest in the slums the very next day, a shack thrown together from scavenged planks, a bird’s hut under a skin of old newspapers and leaves.

When Ningyi arrived, she caught her host stepping out; beside her stood another girl, short-haired, unfamiliar, a new face under the same pale sun.

…How did her host, as a child, draw girls like bees to peach blossoms? Two in a single day.

Strangest of all, the short-haired one felt familiar, a scent on the wind she couldn’t place. Ningyi swore this was their first meeting, yet the girl tugged at memory like a half-remembered song.

“Nainai, look, I brought your little wooden cart back,” the short-haired girl said, voice bright as morning. “Now you can keep selling your handmade candy.”

Her name was Yan Xiao, a resident from the ordinary district who’d moved inside Chronos City; she’d known Nainai a long time, a thread that had stretched despite the gates between districts.

Permits made trips into the slums a maze of thorns, so Yan Xiao only visited once a week, a constant in a rough calendar.

“Ah… right. I built this cart myself, so some parts may be worse than your old one… I’m really sorry…” As she pushed the cart over, Nainai saw bandages wrapped around Yan Xiao’s slender fingers, white petals around fresh cuts.

“No—no, it’s not like that. Nothing you make is bad, Yan-chan. It’s me… I keep troubling you. I’m really sorry…”

Nainai had been small and afraid for so long that even a cup of kindness made her flustered, like a fawn startled by a hand.

“It’s okay, Nainai. Lean on me more if you need to. If it helps you, I’ll do it.”

“Yan-chan…”

“Alright, don’t cry. You cry so easily; that’s why people like to bully you.”

Watching her host like this left the System sore in the chest, a bitter taste rising like smoke.

It was hard to imagine what road would harden this child into the cold blade she’d become.

“Yo! Nainai, I’m here to play!”

Seven’s voice carried down the empty street like a bell on clear ice, bright and unmistakable; Ningyi spotted her from far off, the girl running with a speed no normal child had any right to.

…Does that girl have no sense?

“And this is…?”

“I’m Seven, Nainai’s best friend!”

“Eh?” Seven’s words jumped ahead of any introduction, pride ringing like a drumbeat; Yan Xiao felt a sudden twinge, a prickle of danger.

“Since when did Nainai have a ‘best friend’ like you?” Yan Xiao’s smile thinned, soft steel under silk. “If anyone’s her best friend, it’s me. I knew her before you did.”

“Eh, really?” Seven’s face scrunched for a beat, then smoothed into a shrug. “Well, the world doesn’t forbid latecomers from taking the lead. Me being Nainai’s best friend isn’t strange at all.”

…What kind of bent logic is that.