A cold curl of mockery rose in Eye’s chest as he faced eager, spring-loaded Lian. He spread his arms wide like a dark-winged bird and shouted:

“O treasure steeped in the power of darkness! Reveal your true might before me! By your master’s command—seal, release!”

He delivered the cringey chuuni incantation with a face carved from stone, like moonlight on a mask. The knockoff “Vampire’s Treasury” answered anyway; golden-crimson rings bloomed behind him like halos, and the dim room brightened like dawn through stormclouds.

Eye raised his index finger, a spear of intent, and pointed forward.

“Steamroller Single-Lane!”

A red track of light traced itself across the floor like a comet’s trail, and Lian stood right in the middle of that glowing river.

Her face lit up with raw excitement, like a festival lantern catching fire. The game-like thrill surged through her veins, more real than any VR skybox could ever fake.

Vroom— The engine’s growl rolled out of the gold-red ring like distant thunder. A steamroller eased through the ring like a beast from a gate, then slingshotted along the red lane like an arrow loosed.

Trusting pure game sense, Lian slipped sideways, light as a cat, and the speeding steamroller howled past like a storm wind.

She dodged one—and two more red lines lit up, crossing like a net. Their intersection sat exactly where Lian stood, a red X like a hunter’s mark.

Two new steamrollers tunneled out of rings, then blasted away like twin meteors.

She slipped past again. Red lanes bloomed again. The steamrollers doubled again, then burst forth again, like ripples becoming waves. The two of them just kept looping those simple motions, as steady as a drumbeat.

She didn’t know how long it had been, but the floor was a dense spiderweb of red lines that made her scalp tingle like winter frost. The launch speed and frequency blurred beyond sight, a rain of iron meteors, yet Lian threaded through them freely, like water through reeds. It was as if the steamrollers were conspiring to miss her; every one only grazed the corner of her coat like a teasing breeze.

She had to admit it—she was giddy, shamelessly delighted, like a fox tasting first snow. Her demon blood boiled hotter than ever, and that dangerous smile at her lips wouldn’t go away, a crescent moon that refused to set.

“Hahahahahahahaha!”

The laugh knifed the air, shrill enough to sting, and even her loli voice couldn’t soften the edge, like bells chiming over steel.

Her right foot stamped down to anchor her speeding body, and the force punched a pit in the floor like a crater left by a falling star.

Her body screeched to a halt, a hawk mid-dive snapping its wings. The stampede of steamrollers didn’t plan to stop; they kept charging like a flood that forgot the shore.

Whoosh— Four hundred and fifty red lanes converged to a needle point, and who else stood there but Lian, a lone blossom in a field of blades.

THUMP THUMP THUMP!!!

Steamroller after steamroller shot out of the rings like shells from a cannon. Those launched midair crashed down with heavy thuds, engines howling like caged tigers. Tires clawed the floor, sparks spitting out like fireflies, and the tens-of-tons machines barreled toward the end of the red road like bulls down a chute.

Lian didn’t panic; her calm was a lake under moonlight. She reached out and seized the first steamroller, fingers bursting with power like roots cracking stone. The multi-ton weight rose clean into the air, and its spinning wheel chewed only wind.

We’ve played bullet-hell long enough, she thought, a grin like a knife. Let’s switch games. The new name is—

“Steamroller Home Run!”

She roared the title like a battle hymn, then swung the steamroller in her hands like a bat and hammered it into another roaring in close. The collision bloomed with impossible force, like thunder trapped in a bell. Lian’s strength won by a clean margin; the second steamroller went flying, bowled into another, knocked that one off its lane, that one caromed into a third, and the chain rolled on like a butterfly flapping into a storm.

Eye’s whole barrage unraveled, a tapestry yanked loose by one tug, yet his expression didn’t change, as timeless as a stone statue.

Lian admired her own handiwork like a painter stepping back from a wild canvas. She glanced at the half-ruined steamroller in her grip, lowered her head, and started thinking with a cat’s seriousness.

“Maybe… Steamroller Bowling fits better?”

Only Lian could think like that mid-fight, logic tossed aside like petals in the wind.

Vroom! An engine’s snarl yanked her from the centuries-old naming problem like a bell shattering a dream.

She shook her head, gathered her spirit like wind into a fist, hefted the steamroller, took a few quiet steps back, and sighted Eye as if lining up a horizon.

“Serious pitch!”

The steamroller came down in a ruthless arc, and two strangers of steel met for 0.24 seconds—one heartbeat—then parted like waves.

The struck roller rebounded at triple speed, a yellow blur like lightning through fog, bolting straight for Eye.

He didn’t dodge, a pilgrim waiting on fate. When the roller was less than four inches from his face, a gold-red ring blinked open like an eye, and the steamroller snapped back into it, impact and all, swallowed like a stone into deep water.

“Oh oh oh oh!”

Lian felt no sting of failure; sparks danced in her eyes like stars. Now this felt like baseball—she pitched, Eye caught. The roster was short, sure, but the spirit was there. If there was one flaw, it was that the baseball was a bit… big.

“Na~ Wanna play baseball?”

She looked at Eye, excitement barely leashed, like a hound on a taut lead. He tilted his head in puzzlement, an owl in daylight. Baseball meant nothing to him; the only sport in his memory felt like rugby, played with someone, won somehow—but who was that?

Lian wasn’t asking permission; it was a courtesy tossed like a leaf to the stream. Today, you play whether you want to or not.

“Ora!”

The baseball—steamroller—screamed out, a comet burning a line across the night...