“Ling, go rest for a bit. You’ve been on the road all day.” The king’s voice came warm as a hearth-fire, and he beckoned a maid like a wave calling a boat to shore.

“Uh… thanks for the concern.” Ling blinked, dazed, like a deer in snowlight.

“It’s fine. You’re Alicia’s sister now, so you’re my daughter too.” His smile opened like morning sun. “I was swamped yesterday, storms on every desk. I couldn’t check on you. Go rest. I’ll fetch you for lunch.”

As for what happened before this, Ling felt fog in her head, a lake with no bottom.

—A while earlier—

“Father, I must make Ling my little sister!” Alicia’s words flew like arrows lit with joy.

“Alicia, you can’t force this,” the king said, gentle as rain on eaves. “Ask Miss Yufan’s opinion. If she agrees, I won’t object.”

With permission in hand, Alicia scooped Ling up like hugging a warm cloud and pressed Ling’s head into her chest like a soft midnight.

Ling’s body didn’t need to breathe, but habit clung like ivy. No air—panic rose like a net tightening. The suffocation swelled like a black tide, until Alicia let go and air rushed back like spring wind.

Dizzy as a spinning top, Ling only remembered Alicia asking, “Will you be my sister?”

She didn’t even catch the full meaning. “Okay,” slipped out like a leaf on a stream.

And just like that, a sister fell into her life like a shooting star.

Right now, the little loli couldn’t help suspecting Alicia did it on purpose; if the Script hadn’t clearly said Alicia hugged her from excitement, a blade of killing intent would’ve budded like frost.

Bang.

Alicia kicked Ling’s door open like a storm splitting a branch.

“Ling, let’s go play!” She didn’t wait for an answer—she grabbed Ling and bolted like a gust snatching a kite.

Nestled against Alicia’s arms like a kitten in sunlight, Ling had to admit: having a big sister felt good, warm as tea.

…Take that back.

Now, Alicia was changing Ling’s clothes again, waves of silk and lace like a flood. This was outfit number one hundred and fourteen, a mountain of ribbons.

They’d hit the streets, and Ling had hoped for games like lanterns in a fair. Instead, Alicia dressed her in endless “last outfits,” turning Ling into Alicia’s private dress-up doll, a porcelain figure on a carousel.

“Ahhhh! I’m done with you!” Her shout cracked like thunder.

Ling sprinted out of the boutique like a sparrow escaping a net.

Watching Ling’s retreating back like a petal on wind, Alicia sighed again, entranced like a moth at a flame—lolis were cute doing anything.

Leaving Alicia in thirsty big-sister mode, Ling wandered aimlessly, a boat on misty water.

Huh?

A wooden sign hung above like an old oak: “Adventurers’ Guild Branch.” Ling stepped inside without hesitation, a swallow into shade.

Jingle-jingle.

The bell chimed like a silver stream, and heads turned like sunflowers.

“Yo, since when did the gay guild get a loli this cute?” a voice sneered, crude as muddy boots.

“Don’t scare her. Maybe she’s here to find big bro,” another smirked, a snake in grass.

“Little sister, come here. Big bro’ll take you to see goldfish,” Goldfish Bro crooned, bait glinting like tin.

Ling kept her face blank as winter glass.

Just kidding. Her temper flared like a struck match.

She hated naked catcalls like flies on fruit. If it were a beautiful big sister, maybe. But beefy dudes cooing “rawr~”? Not her taste—salt on a wound.

She pinched a green orb from thin air like plucking a lime, then flicked it at Goldfish Bro, clean as a pebble to a pond.

Whoosh.

A laser line cut the air like a blue needle. Red sprayed like a burst pomegranate. Goldfish Bro hit the floor, breath thinning like a fading ember.

The sudden strike froze the room, ice over a river. The guild tolerated brawls like summer storms—no deaths, no problem.

But someone dropping in and leaving a man with one breath left? First time—a black swan on their pond.

Turns out Goldfish Bro had a partner. Not brawny, but a high-tech rifle crowned his back like a neon banner. He jumped out, feral as a dog at a fence.

“Bastard! What did you do to Megil? If I don’t avenge him today, I’ll walk backward the rest of my life!” His vow rang like an iron gong.

He yanked the sci‑fi rifle around and sprayed at Ling, bullets like hornets ripping air.

The instant they would’ve kissed her, a transparent green circular shield blossomed around Ling like a lotus. The rounds hit, sizzled, and melted like snow on a skillet.

Seeing bullets fail, anger pricked his face like thorns.

“Don’t think mages are invincible,” he snarled, spitting sparks. “The Empire’s weapons aren’t weaker than you wand-wavers.” Pride flared like a banner.

He pulled a Gatling from nowhere like a magician’s rabbit. A blue ammo belt slithered in like a river of steel.

“Anti-mage rounds loaded,” a cold female voice chimed from the gun, frost on glass.

“Die!”

The barrel spat blue fire like a dragon’s breath, chattering da-da-da like hail on tin.

Rounds smacked the green shield and vanished, but left blue smoke blooming like ghost mist. The smoke gnawed at the shield’s mana, hungry as leeches in a pond. Ling felt the drain, a tide pulling sand from underfoot.

She’d guessed the Empire’s tech was advanced, storm clouds behind the mountain. She hadn’t expected this. And they could open fire this freely? That broke her map like lightning.

If common folks could buy this thunder, what did the royals hoard behind silk curtains? If not stronger, why no rebels rising like wildfire?

“Bastard! Since when are the Empire’s green leeches this tough? Taste my RPG!” he howled, shouldering fury like a bazooka.

Oh? Green leeches? He means people with natural mana? Whatever—he just insulted me, a spark to a powder keg.

Ling’s blue eyes locked on Xing Wuneng, flames dancing like foxfire. She had planned a light lesson, a tap of rain.

Now, different weather.

She sat lightly on the thick Script like perching on a floating slab of jade. She crossed one leg over the other, riding its buoyancy skyward like a slow kite, stopping only when they had to tilt their heads.

Arms folded across her chest like a closed fan, she let the chuuni tone drip like midnight ink from her lips.

“Now then—let’s count your sins.”