Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled beneath the pouring rain. Inside, the air conditioner hummed softly beneath a thin blanket, wrapping Bai Xia in warmth. Though the late autumn chill deepened with every drop, the deliberately dimmed amber light carved the space into two worlds—one stormy, one serene.

Curled on the sofa with snacks in hand, Bai Xia watched a sci-fi movie streamed via Tianxun. The action scene blazed across the screen. She didn’t hate rainy days, exactly—but the relentless lightning and thunder were annoying. Headphones kept the movie clear, yet the rolling thunderclaps promised restless sleep later.

Thankfully, it was still early, and she felt reasonably alert. *Just hope the thunder quiets down by bedtime.*

Between bites and scenes, she searched online for why her Tianxun had glitched earlier. Plenty of similar fixes popped up, but none fit. More precisely… the device showed zero errors.

If the Tianxun was fine, that strange silent call likely wasn’t a glitch. Bai Xia couldn’t help dwelling on it. After all, this was the first oddity since her transformation. If not a malfunction—who called? Why stay silent? Why did the callback fail?

Questions swirled. She almost pushed up imaginary glasses and declared, *“There is only one truth! And the culprit is…”* …Wait, wrong show.

Still, that call felt significant—possibly tied to the original owner.

Truth be told, Bai Xia had countless unanswered questions about her. The fragmented memories painted a simple picture: a native of Suhua, twenty, a college grad turned shut-in. But the details crumbled under scrutiny. Tianxun contacts? Blank. Chat logs? Empty. No friends, no parents, no relatives. She’d wondered: orphan? But even orphans have friends. And whenever the thought arose, a strange certainty rejected it—the original owner *wasn’t* orphaned. So where were her parents? Why no contact? She checked the Tianxun again—same three-year-old model, worn with use. No recent replacement.

Too many loose threads. The impression was “ordinary,” yet everything felt… off.

*“What if she was a cold-blooded assassin? Raised by an organization, trained as a weapon, then fled to live quietly…”*

Huh. That *would* explain the empty contacts, the sparse history. Assassins stay off the grid.

*“So that call… the organization found her? Here to eliminate the traitor?”*

“What a cliché third-rate novel plot.”

Watching the movie’s heroine infiltrate enemy lines, Bai Xia’s thoughts drifted—then she snapped back, patting her cheeks. Absurd? Absolutely. But with her frail arms and legs—winded after three steps—her only viable targets would be shut-ins or lolicons. After all, a loli’s “moe kill” only works on *that* demographic.

Bai Xia had zero interest in being a “lolicon assassin.” She tossed the fantasy aside.

*“Ah, whatever. Probably just a glitch or wrong number.”*

She refocused on the film. By its end, rain still poured, but the thunder had softened. Drowsy, she showered quickly, scrolled a few amusing shorts, then climbed into bed.

Sleep was restless—not from thunder, but from dreams she couldn’t recall. A vague sense of strangeness lingered, yet by morning, her mind felt thick and muddled, as if stuffed with cotton. She stared blankly for thirty full minutes after waking.

The post-rain chill hit hard. Opening the window for fresh air, she shivered violently—but the icy gust jolted her fully awake. After a quick breakfast, she logged into the game right on schedule.

Respawning at yesterday’s logout spot, Tianzheng was already waiting. He raised a hand to greet her, then paused. “Morning… Hm? Something off. You look tired, Bai Xia. Didn’t sleep well?”

“Ah, something like that.” She shook her head. Not great, but functional.

Tianzheng frowned slightly, as if remembering. “Nationwide cold snap lately—wind, rain, sharp drop. Bundle up. Don’t catch a cold.”

“I’m not a kid who can’t take care of myself,” she muttered, waving him off. But the strange call surfaced again. “Actually… something weird happened last night. Senior, could you analyze it for me?”

“What weird thing? Grew a centimeter while measuring your height?”

“…Can I ask you to just drop dead right here?”