The bandits hadn’t touched a woman in ages. During wartime, refugees—men and women alike—took up arms to defend themselves. These bandits reeked of sour sweat and fermented armpit hair, their appearances truly grotesque. Women wielding farming tools and clubs fought fiercely. Once, a peasant woman whose weapon was knocked away didn’t wait for the bandits’ cheers; with a soot-smeared face, she pulled out scissors and took her own life.

Three months prior, they’d captured a middle-aged peasant woman—dark-skinned, calloused hands, protruding front teeth worn down to the roots. Though hideous, the bandits, desperate enough to find sows beautiful, didn’t care. After fourteen nauseating days, the woman finally succumbed to illness. Only when her corpse stank and swarmed with flies did they bury her.

The previous night, starved of satisfaction, the bandits swore they smelled honey on the wind as they slept. Feverish men wrestled each other in madness. By dawn, half suffered from unusually thick stools. They concluded it was madness from prolonged abstinence.

Now, a breathtaking silver-haired maiden stood before them. Her figure was flawless—slender waist, ample curves. One glance stirred primal urges. That rounded backside, those long straight legs… surely she could cure the brothers’ affliction. Grinning, the bald bandit led his men forward slowly.

Their eyes burned like embers fixed on the girl.

“Disgusting apes. Time for a scare,” Aelina scoffed. She raised the Molecular Reconstructor toward the cart’s roof. Timber and sinew glowed blue, reshaping into a Giant Crossbow. The string snapped taut. Aelina crouched, adjusted the aim, and fired at a bandit leering at her chest.

The three-finger-thick bolt tore through his chest. Draped in rotting pelts, he wailed, writhing on the ground. “Stop!” the bald leader roared. The bandits jumped back, eyes locked on their dying comrade. Thick, dark blood oozed from the wound, dripping down the shaft.

“A… siege crossbow?”

“Magic! She conjured a siege weapon?”

“That bolt’s thicker than my arm.”

Cold sweat drenched the bald bandit’s back. No one wanted to be impaled by such a monstrous shaft.

“She can’t fire again!”

He turned to see the speaker: “Clever,” the bandit nicknamed for his long mustache—dubbed his “wisdom whiskers”—who’d earned his leather cap by clubbing a peasant woman unconscious. “Look at her delicate arms,” Clever whispered. “No way she can restring that thing.”

Relief flooded the leader. He raised his hand to charge—

*Whoosh!*

The bolt kissed Clever’s mouth. He flew backward, cap tumbling off. The “kiss” was so violent his skull shattered on impact. Eyes wide, jaw slack, he lay with the thick shaft buried in his throat, blood soaking his “wise” mustache. The bald bandit recalled Clever sucking him off just last night.

A blinding blue arc sliced the earth before their feet. The bandits recoiled again. A half-circle trench now scarred the ground. Aelina smiled grimly. “This is my final mercy,” she declared. “Cross this line, and I’ll call down lightning to reduce you to ash.”

Lightning terrified all primitive minds.

The bald bandit’s erection wilted halfway. Life outweighed lust. This silver-haired beauty wasn’t human—she wielded forbidden power.

“Our apologies! We meant no disrespect!” he stammered, retreating on trembling legs. Glancing back, he saw a comrade’s trousers soaked through, lips pale as he chanted: “Immortal spirit… we offended an immortal spirit… we’re cursed.”

The leader’s pride surged back. He slammed the flat of his rusty scimitar against the man’s spine. “Coward! You shame us all!” He faced his men. “The immortal spirit is merciful! We’ll lea—”

A sudden gust ripped upward.

The wind snatched Aelina’s snow-white skirt, flipping it high. Bandits gaped—past the snow-white forbidden zone between thigh-high stockings, all the way up to a glimpse of delicate white lace.

Aelina gasped, clutching her skirt. Two faint blushes rose on her cheeks—*damn this body’s settings*.

That flash of white lace shattered her mystique. To the bandits, she was just a helpless girl now. That glimpse ignited their nerves. The bald leader’s groin hardened again. He swung his scimitar. “Brothers! Charge! First to grab her gets second turn!”

Eyes bloodshot, the bandits surged past the line, weapons raised toward Aelina twenty meters away.

“Damn wind! Who scripted this?!” Aelina fired the crossbow. One bandit dropped, bolt through his skull. She abandoned the weapon, aiming at the bald leader—but the attackers were too close to the cart. The crossbow’s angle was too steep. A rear bandit took the bolt through his chest instead.

The bald leader vaulted onto the wheel, palm slapping the cart roof.

Aelina dropped the crossbow. Three hands now gripped the roof’s edge. Drawing her Rapier to sever fingers was futile—one cut, two more would climb. An ape would leap in, arms wide. She dove into the cart, raising the Molecular Reconstructor toward the skylight. Blue light dissolved the dirt steps, sealing the opening.

“Don’t run, sweetheart!”

A filthy, grinning face filled the shrinking gap. Yellowed teeth crusted with grime. Eyes blazing, he devoured the deep cleavage of her blouse. Aelina nearly vomited—she wanted to decontaminate herself with the Reconstructor.

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

Frenzied fists pounded the cart. Boots kicked the door. Arms reached through broken windows for the pale figure inside. Thankfully, Aelina always “locked” doors by fusing them shut with the Reconstructor.

She sealed the rear windows, then reconstructed a small cart. Frantically, she dumped essentials inside as the cart rocked violently. Outside, bestial roars echoed: “Get out, or we’ll flip this thing!”

Five bandits chanted, “One! Two! Three!” Heaving together, they tilted the cart. Aelina stumbled, heaving a sack of potatoes toward her cart. No time for packed supplies—reconstructing was faster.

She wanted more. Batteries sat on the windowside workbench—but four thick arms snaked through broken glass, grasping for her. She couldn’t reach them. With a final effort, she tossed twenty pounds of iron into her cart. Blue light carved an escape hole in the floor.

*Crack!* A scimitar pierced the hull. Iron-wrapped clubs hammered the gap wider—wide enough for a head.

The bald bandit’s face filled the hole, eyes glued to Aelina’s backside. “Smash it! Smash it! I’m grabbing this girl’s ass first!”

Blue light finally dissolved the floor into a two-meter-deep pit. Aelina shoved her cart inside. As she leaped after it, a hand seized her silver hair. She crashed down, twisting to see the bald bandit halfway through the hole, fist tangled in her locks. A stench hit her—sweat-soaked armpit hair and ten-day-old socks stewing in summer heat.

Without hesitation, she drew her Rapier and slashed. Silver strands fell. Kicking free, she scrambled toward the pit. The hand lost her hair, then clamped onto her ankle, yanking hard. Numbness shot up her leg. Her elbow jammed against the pit’s edge, stopping her slide. More holes gaped beside her. Hands reached, fingers inches from her foot.

“Almost got her! Grab her together!”

As her body strained toward surrender, Aelina aimed the Reconstructor at the copper clasp on her thigh-high. It sprang open. The tight leather loosened, revealing a smooth, snow-white leg.

She yanked her foot free, gripped the pit’s edge, and dropped. Her back slammed onto cold iron. Darkness flashed behind her eyes. Gasping, she caught the Reconstructor by its chain.

“Maximum power!”

Blinding blue light engulfed the pit’s mouth. The last thing she saw was the bald bandit’s leering face vanishing behind sealing earth.

“You’re dead!” she screamed.

Darkness swallowed her. Safe. For now.