Ling stepped through the crimson gate; darkness pooled like ink, yet her cute little paws still flickered like fireflies.

She tested one small step; the floor answered like stone under a stream. All around, night hung like a curtain. The stubborn little loli refused that silence; her tiny feet pattered like rain on tiles. She ran, but the dark stayed like a sealed jar. Doubt coiled like smoke—was she running in circles?

Thud!

In a blindfold of night, you smack into stuff. Ling’s forehead met something hard, like iron bark. Her butt hit the ground like a dropped cherry.

She skipped the fake-cry routine; the little loli popped up like a spring. Her small hand reached forward; a dent whispered along her fingertips like ripples. Her brain clicked like a menu in an RPG. That dent was—made by her own forehead.

“Hmph, bet you didn’t see that coming?” The quip fluttered into the void like a paper crane. She pushed the hard surface; a pull surged through her like a whirlpool. In one breath, Ling got swallowed like a leaf in a current.

Whooosh~

The portal sang like a river in glass.

Dizziness swirled like autumn leaves. When it cleared, the world lit up like lanterns. But why did she feel taller, like a reed after rain?

She glanced down; a purple stone sat under her like a violet island. It rose slightly above the red inferno around, a peak among embers. That bump tricked her height like a mischievous mirage.

She stepped off the purple stone; her bare feet met red ground like silk over coals. Warmth rose under her soles, like moving from ice to a hearth. Given her constitution, this place felt like thousands of degrees, a sun in a cave.

She glanced back at the purple footing she’d used, like peeking at a footprint in snow. It wasn’t just one stone; she’d only looked at her toes. It was a ring of purple stones, roughly four-by-five across, like tiles in a ritual circle. In the center, a purple, transparent portal shimmered like moonlight on water.

She cut the snark short; she turned and set off to find the Yanluo King, like a sparrow chasing dawn. She made quick marks along the path, breadcrumbs of scratches, so she wouldn’t lose the way like a boat without a star.

But… saying she’d find the Yanluo King was easy; where was that guy, a needle in lava?

Boom!

A roar rolled in from the right like thunder over cliffs. Dust surged up, a red veil that swallowed sight. Probably someone landed—a drop like a meteor.

She’d been about to hunt for an auto-pathfinding trick, like following moss on stones. But if the quest NPC came to her, no need to chase ghosts.

“Who trespasses here?!” The voice cut through dust like a gong before dawn. Ling turned; a red-skinned man stood there, muscles carved like ropes. His eyes burned crimson, pressure weighing like a storm. It did nothing against Ling’s cuteness, a blossom laughing at hail.

“Sir Daemon, I’m just here to find someone~” Her words bubbled like spring water.

The red man looked at her like a teacher spotting a broken abacus.

“Here… there are only Daemons. If you want humans, go to the living world.” His sentence clanged like iron.

“Nonono~” Ling raised a finger and waved it twice, like a cattail teasing wind.

“Not that kind of ‘person,’” the word danced like a firefly.

“Speak plainly.” His voice fell like a hammer.

“I’m looking for the Yanluo King.” Her tone rang like a small bell.

The red man blinked, then burst into laughter like firewood snapping.

“Hahahahaha!” His laugh crackled like pine in a fire.

“Don’t even think about it. The Yanluo King isn’t someone you just meet.

We may not serve her, but she’s still a big name.

To see her, you’d at least be a Demon King.

You, popping in from nowhere, want an audience? Isn’t that pure wishful smoke?”

The jab didn’t spark her temper; her heart sat quiet like a pond after rain. Ling had worked through her thoughts; she wouldn’t blow up at random anymore.

So calm Ling decided to fish for answers, like casting a line into a dark river. She clasped her hands to her chest; her jade-green eyes fixed on his red ones. A tear glimmered at her reddening corner, ready to fall like a dew drop; her voice wobbled like a violin string.

“Really… there’s no way… sniff sniff~” Her tone trembled like a kitten in rain.

The man seemed hooked by her cuteness, like a moth to a lantern; his gaze stuck to her small face. He swallowed, then gave the answer she wanted.

“It’s not… impossible. If you die, you can meet the Yanluo King. She’ll judge your soul then, and you can say what you want.”

Ling nodded like a student under plum blossoms, adding soft “mm” sounds. She looked every bit the earnest child, attentive as a sparrow on a branch.

“Oh~ I see. Then how should I die?” Her question floated like a petal on tea.

The man had been waiting for that line; excitement flared like sparks in dry straw.

“I-I-I can help! You smell so good. Being eaten by someone like me would be—”

His hunger prowled like a wolf in haze.

She didn’t let him finish that creepy spiel; a green Magic Cannon swallowed him, like bamboo lightning flooding a scarecrow. Answers like that were useless—dead leaves in a stream. She’d humored him out of curiosity, but he was dull. Not even a basic lollipop for loli-bait, and so blunt. A Daemon like that probably had no girlfriend.

She turned away from that trouble spot, like a bird slipping from thorns. She masked her inner magic with a little trick, a veil learned from Lian’s memories. Don’t say she never works—she’s the world’s most diligent, clever, adorable, unstoppable little loli!

She sealed her aura tight, like wrapping incense in silk, then set out. The next goal: find a place with people—pfft, no, with Daemons. She’d greet them kindly, like tea steam in winter, and humbly ask the route to the Yanluo King. With gratitude, she’d borrow a ride, like a boat on lava, then start the journey to find the Yanluo King.

She wondered if that steel-straight Daemon carried markers to a settlement, like breadcrumbs under armor. Looking at the ashes he’d become, even if he did, they were dust now—blown away like smoke.