"Starting today, I will no longer be the Order Keeper of the Twelfth District."

Zhao Qingsnow tapped the screen twice, unsure if the message had even sent. Blade—who usually spent twenty of every twenty-four hours glued to the screen—hadn’t read it. The glaring "Unread" notification stung… Something must have gone wrong in the Twelfth District.

A flicker of relief lifted Zhao Qingsnow’s heart now that she’d "freed" herself. Yet a weight still pressed on her back—lighter than before, but present. She propped up her body, which felt ready to collapse at any moment, and resolved to use black market thugs as test subjects alongside the Old Woman. Unethical? Yes. But weighed against her life and the Twelfth District’s future, that sliver of shame felt trivial.

They moved through narrow black market alleys, snatching a few weaklings at random and forcing them toward the eastern gap. Before two steps passed, boulders plummeted from above while magical beams erupted from both sides—tearing gaping holes through their abdomens. Their lower halves stumbled forward, oblivious, while upper bodies crumpled.

The ambush was fiercer than the Old Woman expected. Clearly, District Twenty-One’s branch had left this gap deliberately—a trap to lure Zhao Qingsnow and the Old Woman east, then strike without warning. Thankfully, they saw through it. But escape remained urgent: one to flee, one to hold the line?

Dawn broke. Night retreated. Last night’s talks had clearly failed. No surprise—the black market and Magic Maidens were about to clash.

Purple Lightning washed quickly, tied her hair, glanced at sleeping Kaneko, and locked the door. Her outfit was plain; activation transformed any clothing into Magic Armor, and dismissal erased even the finest garments. Rumor said the neighboring district’s guardian—the self-styled "Emperor"—crafted mana fabric. Garments woven from it resisted Abyssal Aura and survived Magic Armor activation. Purple Lightning felt a quiet twinge of envy.

After she left, Kaneko opened her eyes. She twisted the doorknob gently twice—firmly locked. No problem. Months wandering the borderlands taught her skills: lock-picking included. She’d survived by stealing, bartering goods for cash—a necessary tactic. Later, a kind captain changed that. He was the second person to care for her since her mother. Though she claimed no bond with Zhao Qingsnow or the Old Woman, gratitude lingered. They’d helped her daily. Raised with care by the Old Woman, Kaneko—a synthetic human—held strong values. She repaid kindness. She couldn’t ignore their peril.

With a whisper of magic and two bent wires from the basement, she picked the lock. Slipping into Purple Lightning’s living room, she took a few self-defense items. Then her gaze caught the memorial portrait. Extinguished candles. Burnt incense sticks. Ash-gray residue on the table. Hazy smoke coiled near the ceiling. The girl in the frame bore Purple Lightning’s face—her younger sister. Kaneko had witnessed that battle: Zhao Qingsnow’s Magic Spell and the Old Woman’s power left her forever in the Twelfth District. A pitiful soul. Kaneko bowed three times toward the portrait, then closed the door softly.

She knew the black market’s location—Night Frost had mentioned it while discussing District Twenty-One’s layout. Kaneko remembered well. She walked cautiously, hailed a cab, paid with Purple Lightning’s cash. "Drive faster," she urged.

"Can’t," the driver said. "Road’s gone—explosion up ahead. Order Keepers blocking the way. Detour only."

Kaneko stared at the massive crater in the distance. A strange familiarity washed over her. Identical to the photo. *The crater I made during my sky battle with Purple Lightning.*

"Is this… something I did?"

Reality hit harder than any image. She’d stayed here nearly four days. Crowds still swarmed. Rescue efforts continued. A mall screen showed a reporter announcing rising casualties. She stepped out, drawn closer—then guilt and self-reproach surged. *Find them first. Make amends later… if I can.* She gripped her trembling arms, returned to the car, and pressed onward.

By the time they neared the black market’s edge, full daylight had come. District Twenty-One personnel stopped the cab. Kaneko stepped out, scanning for a way in.

"Seriously… Is anyone even here?"

A girl paced near the checkpoint, phone in hand. Her face screamed *I want to enter*, but the barrier held her back.

"Boss found out last time… got fired. That girl still owes me. Ugh—no ID, no cash. Just finished research, and *this* gets sealed? Who’s profiting?! Why do I have *nothing*—?!"

She swiped her screen frantically, muttering at lightning speed. Fingers ached before the glass sparked.

It was Zhou Jiaxin—the "naive girl" Night Frost once deceived. After the impersonation scandal, the Divine Cult Modification Center dismissed her. No company hired her since. The black market offered pharma jobs with decent pay. Today was her interview. Then—sealed off.

*Am I cursed? Should I find a Taoist priest? …Wait. No priests left. Only Magic Maidens now.*

Her phone warned of rising tensions between black market and Order Keepers. No updates. *Another chance gone.* She stomped the ground, flailed her arms—nearly threw her phone—then steadied herself, gripping her holy sword tight.

"Eh? You are…?"

She turned. A petite girl with ash-blonde hair, frail frame, and quiet eyes stared intently.

"Did you see all that?" Zhou Jiaxin covered her flushed face, looking away. *She’s young. Won’t remember. Not *that* embarrassing…*

Kaneko nodded.

"What a weird older sister…" she murmured half-jokingly, hiding her still-trembling hands behind her back.

"How am I weird? I’ve always been like this!" Zhou Jiaxin retorted. *So embarrassing! I picked a secluded spot—why her?! Seen *and* mocked!* She wished for a crack to vanish into. None existed.

"Um… older sister, what are you doing here?" Kaneko asked.

"Umm… work. Yeah… work," Zhou Jiaxin stammered.

Kaneko pieced it together: job interview ruined by the lockdown. Zhou Jiaxin had clung to hope, only to be turned away—just like her.

*So small. Neat clothes. Must be lost.*

"Hey kid, where’s home? Dangerous here. I’m heading south—walk with me?"

Kaneko felt grateful for the kindness. But she couldn’t leave. The black market was fully encircled. Zhao Qingsnow was likely injured rescuing the Old Woman. Even recovered, breaking through would be hard. *I must breach the perimeter… but how to lure the Order Keepers away?*

Before she could decide—a violet lightning bolt slashed the sky. Kaneko spun abruptly and ducked her head into a nearby crate under Zhou Jiaxin’s confused stare. Fortunately, Purple Lightning didn’t glance aside. She shot straight toward the black market’s heart.

As the lightning faded, artillery fire erupted from the east.

Right on cue—the clash between District Twenty-One’s branch and the black market began.