“Hehe, Grandpa, why are you still up so late?”

Qu Yi beamed with an innocent smile, her big eyes blinking sweetly.

“Aren’t you up too?”

Qu Xuelin rolled his eyes. “Cut the cute act. Do you think I don’t know you? Spit it out—why’ve you been coming home so late these past few days?”

Since elementary school, Qu Yi had climbed trees to raid nests and waded rivers to catch turtles—practically a tomboy from the start.

No, scratch that—*wilder* than most boys!

Call it “lively and cute” if you’re feeling kind; “tomboy” if you’re honest.

Thankfully, middle school softened her edges—more ladylike, sensible, reserved.

Her new friends seemed trustworthy too, so Qu Xuelin eased up on supervision.

Little did he expect that after just a short while, this little girl would start getting too big for her boots!

Coming home this late *every* time—such a handful!

Qu Yi lowered her head and murmured,

“It’s just city patrol duty, Grandpa~”

Qu Xuelin’s face darkened.

“If I recall right, your shift ends by eight p.m. *Daytime only.* And now? Nearly midnight!”

Demonhunters at Southgate Garrison were stretched thin, forcing Qu Xuelin to approve his granddaughter’s idol squad joining city defense.

(Only because Qu Yi and her team had proven competent.)

“Ahem… Patrol zone was far. After work, I hung out with a friend, grabbed a bite… had to take the last bus back…”

True words—but that “friend” wasn’t her squadmate. It was that “uncle” ten years her senior… and Qu Xuelin’s own “acquaintance.”

Qu Xuelin knew she’d formed the squad to lighten his burden. His tone softened.

“Protecting citizens matters—but so does your safety and rest. Come home earlier. Your parents would worry.”

Qu Yi crinkled her eyes into a smile. “I’ll be careful, Grandpa~”

Qu Xuelin’s weathered face warmed. “Go rest. School tomorrow.”

“Okay~ Goodnight, Grandpa!”

She darted off in a flash.

Qu Xuelin shook his head with a wry smile. *Still too lively.*

After she left, he closed the door, turned, and dialed.

“Check recent major incidents in the Alliance—especially any reports of members leaving teams.”

Qu Xuelin was swamped. Six districts, tens of millions of citizens under Southgate Garrison.

Governing wasn’t even his main duty—leading armies and Demonhunters against border-breaching demons was.

No time for the Alliance’s petty dramas.

Back when it hadn’t gone sour, he’d watch tournament videos to learn tricks.

Now? Not even dogs would watch.

…

Qu Yi couldn’t pester Ye Thirteen this morning—her route didn’t pass his neighborhood.

Without that “uncle’s” “nourishment,” her usual sunny glow felt a little dimmed.

Just as she neared the school gate, Han Xiangxue zipped past on her scooter, carrying a girl with long, straight black hair.

Brakes screeched. Qu Yi turned—her two teammates!

“Yo~ Morning, Xue’er, Xiao Lai!” she chirped.

Lai Yingxin lifted her helmet visor behind Han Xiangxue. “Yi Yi, hurry or you’ll be late~”

“Xue’er, let’s go!”

A faint smile touched Han Xiangxue’s lips. She twisted the throttle and shot off.

Qu Yi checked her watch and wailed, “Wait for me!”

She sprinted off, white-stockinged legs flashing.

*No wonder the gate’s empty—class is starting!*

Beyond regular schools, City C had three Demonhunter-focused middle schools: Demonhunter No. 1, Demonhunter Minzhong, and Demonhunter Girls’ Middle School—where Qu Yi, Han Xiangxue, and Lai Yingxin studied.

The girls’ academy stemmed from old social customs, but its quality shone through students like them: exceptional potential, influential backgrounds, zero admission barriers.

Elders like Qu Xuelin chose it deliberately—a clear endorsement.

Admitting only under-17s, its honorary principal was a formidable female Demonhunter.

Without Rank 5 Ace+ strength? Impossible to command newly awakened teens.

Thus, every teacher and instructor (except support staff) was a seasoned Demonhunter.

Awakenings in Dragon Realm ranged from age fourteen to fifty-one—perhaps young bodies couldn’t bear the power.

Hence, specialized schools emerged. Demonhunters’ innate power made co-ed schooling impractical.

Like most such schools, City C Demonhunter Girls’ Middle School grouped students by age and academics.

Powerful as they were, core subjects—math, language, politics, history—still mattered.

As Class 1-1 students, the trio nearly tumbled in one after another just as the bell rang, under classmates’ watchful eyes.

Right behind them, heels clicking sharply, came their homeroom teacher Su Yin—face etched with exasperation.