“I get the logic, but why be my maids?” Alicia’s voice quivered like a paper kite tugged by wind.

“I mean, if someone saves you, shouldn’t you repay with your life?” Remi’s smile bloomed like a peach in spring. “But Flan and I won’t marry anyone else, so we’ll repay as your maids.”

Remi’s matter‑of‑fact face hit Alicia like a bell struck at midnight, and guilt pooled heavy as wet clay. This felt criminal as hell, like loli trafficking in a back alley fog. She was a princess—was she really ditching decency like leaves in a storm?

“Fine. From now on, you’re my personal maids.” Alicia’s words fell like a stamp on wax.

“Yes, Master.” Their reply slid out like silk through rings.

Uh… enemies one second, calling her Master the next, the turn was whiplash sharp like a branch snapping. And “Master” grated on her ears like grit in tea.

“Just call me Alicia.” Her breath eased like warm steam over rice.

They rewrote the mental label like chalk wiped from a slate, then nodded with quiet grace like cranes by a pond.

“Understood, Miss Alicia.” The honorific settled soft as snow.

“Either way works. Let’s check on Ling first.” The choice landed like a pebble in clear water.

Alicia walked to Ling’s side and looked down at her sleeping face, a moon on still water, and pain budded in her chest like thorns.

How long… how long since I last saw this sleeping silhouette, still as frost? She’d been the one to let go first, then ran back like a tide reversing. Cunning as a fox shadow—that was her.

It was her fault too; if not for her, Ling might never have left this place, never been blindsided like a sparrow struck mid‑flight.

Forget it; save Ling first. Then think. The decision planted roots like bamboo.

She glanced back at the two girls, who stood obedient as willow shoots, already wearing the aura of maids like a soft veil.

“Do either of you know how to remove the influence of these four blades?” Her question cut clean as a reed flute.

Remi shook her head, a small pendulum in a quiet clock. “These blades erase the human core like frost eating leaves. First senses, then feelings, last consciousness. For normal folks, one blade usually wipes them. But the gods—by their own awareness—needed four or five. That’s why I gave Rafi five. Right now, four blades got into Ling, so she should have one strand of consciousness left, thin as spider silk. I’ll extract the four, but the residue will cling like soot. Whether she wakes depends on her will like a seed pushing stone. All we can do is stop the infection from deepening.”

She stroked Ling’s four wounds, her palms steady as lanterns in night. Black breath wafted from the cuts like smoke from incense, condensing back into four knives, dark as new moon. Remi drew them out swift as a hawk’s dive, and the punctures sealed fast like ice knitting a crack. If not for the torn holes in her clothes, Alicia wouldn’t believe Ling had been hurt—like a storm erased by dawn.

Only then did Alicia notice a pitch‑black chain around Ling’s wrist, stark as ink on snow against her thin hand.

“Quick, open this chain.” Her urgency sparked like flint.

Remi didn’t dawdle; she poured magic into the links like water into furrows. Runes pulsed along the metal like fireflies, and gears murmured like a mill—click, clack—then the chain released.

Alicia lifted Ling carefully, arms cradling her like carrying a small bird. The sight tugged her heart like reeds in wind. She’d grown used to Ling’s strength; this was the first time she’d seen her truly hurt, the first time she noticed the girl in her arms was just a child, slight as a sapling.

“We’re leaving. Let’s go back.” The resolve rang like a drum, and Alicia stepped out with Ling like a torch sheltered from rain.

—Ling’s Consciousness—

“Are you Ling?” Her voice landed like a pebble in a quiet courtyard.

Ling stared at the girl before her, a mirror image like twin ripples in a pond. The other sat casually, legs loose as a cat in sun, not even caring that her panties peeked like a pale petal—if the past her were here, she might’ve… cough, cough—clouds drifted and moved on.

The “Ling” opposite shifted her posture a touch, elegance settling like a fan closing. She straightened her hand from supporting her cheek, and grace rose like tea aroma. Only then did “Ling” start in, words crisp as bamboo.

“First, your question. Yes, I’m Ling.” Her certainty lit like a lantern.

Hearing that, Ling felt a dip of loss like dusk swallowing color. So excellence wasn’t her—of course, right?

“Don’t wear that wounded face like a torn banner. Hear me out. I’m Ling, sure—but you’re Ling too.” The smile was bright as lacquer.

“What the hell? We’re both Ling? What kind of crappy plot is this?” Her temper flicked like sparks.

The other “Ling” burst into laughter, ringing like chimes in wind. “Ha! True, even I dislike this crappy trope. Honestly, without today, I might never have gotten my entrance.” Her tone winked like a firefly.

Ling didn’t catch the thread; the yarn felt knotted like vines. “What do you mean?” Her caution tucked in like a bird under an eave.

“Literal meaning.” The other tapped her temple like a drumbeat. “Because of that… shapeshift sword? Tch, weird name. I call it [Mr. Soul, please leave~]. It erases what lives inside a being, like tide washing footprints. Four of those blades went into you. Given this body, four only suppressed your senses and feelings for now, like frost on fruit. You’ve got one conscious thread left moving, thin as a strand of silk.”

Ling’s brain tried to sprint like a mouse through pipes, but after five or six minutes, she realized—she didn’t understand, blank as paper. She wouldn’t admit it, though; dignity stood like a dagger.

“Wakarimashita! I got it!” Her bluff shone like tin.

Seeing that “not‑understanding” plastered across her face like muddy prints, “Ling” sighed, breath long as autumn wind. “You don’t. Okay, no burden on your rusty gears. In your terms: your ‘360’ broke, so your PC’s unsafe, and a ‘Steam’ virus invaded—for real—and ate your wallet like moths. I’m like that, invading your near‑paralyzed system. That’s why I’m here. And no, I won’t eat your money.” Her analogy clicked like keys.

Ling got it in a snap, light switching on like dawn through shutters. Why didn’t she say that earlier? Why the maze of words? But…

“What’s that got to do with you showing up here?” Her eyebrow lifted like a feather.

“Ling” revved her mind like a wheel, trying to find words a 49‑IQ gremlin could grasp. “Think double personality. I’m like your inner persona, but not a broken shard that needs the main persona to breathe. Your soul resists me like skin to thorn, so it pushed me to the edge like surf against rock. Now so many parts of you are ‘resting,’ I could slip in like fog.”

“When my soul recovers, will you get kicked out again?” The worry tightened like a knot.

“No. By then, we’ll be near‑merged, like ink drying into paper. You and I stay distinct, but your soul won’t throw me out.” Her calm was a steady lake.

Ling lowered her golden head, equations marching like ants across her mind. Then a spark shot through her eyes like lightning.

“Oh! I get it! You’re turning yourself into a trusted file, so ‘360’ won’t delete you, right?” Her grin flashed like steel.

“Ling” wiped an imaginary bead of sweat, hand flicking like a fan. “Said like that… not wrong~.” The tone hopped like a sparrow.

But the frame set—[Soul = 360 antivirus]—and a bad thought sprouted like mold. “But… sometimes ‘360’ flags itself. Will I get killed as a virus someday?” Her fear fluttered like a moth.

“Ling” went speechless, silence heavy as a stone. How could someone be this dumb? She didn’t even want to admit she was Ling’s second persona. But a lesson is a lesson. A loli pink fist tapped Ling’s skull—bonk—like a nut on wood.

“How can you be this dumb! Weren’t you an eighteen‑year‑old man?” The scold cracked like thunder. “I worked hard to make a female soul fit a male body!”

Ling bristled, small hackles rising like a kitten. Why could someone her size smack her like a drum? Not fair. Revolt!

“Bonk…” Another loli flick landed on her forehead, sharp as a pebble on a bell.