A light drizzle fell from the sky.

On Baihe City’s main avenue, countless citizens huddled under umbrellas along both sides of the road.

Mounted police in bright yellow uniforms led the way. Behind them, a sea of police cars flashed red and blue lights, forming a long convoy. At its center, black panel vans advanced side by side.

The procession stretched endlessly—nearly every off-duty patrol and assault vehicle had been deployed.

As it passed beneath the overpass, firefighters lined the elevated road above, saluting the moving convoy. Their arms ached from holding the salute, yet only half the convoy had passed.

This time was different. Casualties were devastatingly high: eighty-seven black vans filled the center, each flanked by four mounted officers.

More police vehicles lined the roadside. Officers stepped out, standing with civilians, watching silently, saluting the black vans.

Everyone’s mood hung as heavy and gray as the weather.

Yukieda stood in the cemetery. She had to be here today.

Masked and in formal white attire, she stood behind Mr. Kenji. Beside her, Mai wore a crisp black suit.

Rows of uniformed military and police surrounded them.

Rain thickened. Wind picked up. Only the weeping families held umbrellas; everyone else stood exposed.

Yukieda noticed Mr. Kenji’s suit darkened completely across the back from the rain.

From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Mai. He stared straight ahead at the cemetery’s sole entrance, unwavering.

He caught her look and gave a slight nod.

She didn’t want to stand out—her pure white gown clashed sharply with the somber crowd.

She dispelled her magical barrier, letting rain soak her hair and dress.

She, too, fixed her gaze on the entrance.

Two fire trucks faced each other, leaving space for three cars. Above, ladders bridged the gap, suspending a massive banner.

It snapped violently in the wind and rain.

Yukieda heard the convoy drawing near.

Only the black vans entered now, rolling side by side beneath the banner.

At the sight, wails swelled around her, nearly drowning the storm.

*Thump thump!*

Drums pulled her attention. Leading the convoy was a thirty-member band.

Amid sorrow, a stray thought surfaced: *If I died… would my funeral be this grand?*

Just then, Mr. Kenji moved. Yukieda wasn’t sure what to do—she’d been told simply to follow his lead. Mai would guide her if needed.

Coffins were carried out. Families stepped back. Mr. Kenji and senior officials took the highest, most visible spot and saluted.

“Ready! Fire!”

Soldiers in dress uniforms fired volleys into the sky.

Suddenly, an elderly woman in black dropped her umbrella and rushed forward.

Guards intercepted her instantly.

Mr. Kenji waved a hand. The guards released her and melted into the crowd.

She lunged, slapped his face sharply, and gripped his collar.

“…Why?! Why send my son?! He was only thirty-four! He was your friend! Why not someone else?!” she wailed.

Her words revealed familiarity. Mr. Kenji knew her.

He looked disheveled. His broad frame seemed to shrink into that of a stooped old man.

No hollow speeches this time. He stayed silent, letting her shake him.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. Mai murmured to Yukieda, “She’s Squad Six captain’s mother. Mr. Kenji was close to their family.”

Yukieda’s lips parted slightly.

She knew—this bond was broken forever. How tragic.

Two families once connected would now see each other as enemies.

A trace of guilt crept into her heart.

*Squad Six died for me. Almost all of them did.*

*Because I wasn’t strong enough. The strategy was to spend lives draining the Witch’s magic.*

*Did they know Mr. Kenji’s plan? If only I’d been stronger…*

Many families felt this way. Honor meant little. They’d braced for loss—but reality still shattered them.

Yukieda dared not imagine their eyes on her.

She lowered her head, watching raindrops splash the ground.

Her breath grew heavy.

Warmth enveloped her hand. Mai held it, gently kneading her palm through the white silk glove.

“Soldiers who return often wonder why they lived when comrades fell,” he whispered. He paused. “This isn’t your fault. Without you, losses would’ve been worse. Efforts wasted. Because of you… their deaths hold meaning.”

“Thank you,” Yukieda murmured.

“Think,” Mai added softly. “If the mission failed *and* we suffered these losses… what then?”

Yukieda didn’t look up.

Seeing her still downcast, Mai played his final card.

“You like drinking, right? Next time… I’ll join you. And… I never thanked you. For avenging my sister.”

His voice softened, almost shy.

“Okay,” Yukieda forced a smile—hidden behind her mask. She just didn’t want him to worry.

Near Mr. Kenji, the woman fainted from grief. Guards hurried her to a medical van—prepared for such moments.

The funeral lasted until evening.

Back in her apartment living room, Yukieda reviewed her record.

Defeating the Witch had catapulted her rank from D-50/100 to B-10/100.

Even Mr. Kenji admitted it was inflated—she’d essentially snagged the final kill.

Her log now read clearly: *Witch Borel x1*.

“What’s a higher rank good for?”

“Better pay, longer leave…” Mai shrugged. “High-rank Magical Girls guard major cities.”

Yukieda flatly refused.

“Huh? No way. I’m staying. I love Baihe. It’s my home.”

She clung to the idea like a child hugging a lamppost to avoid school. Mai smiled—he knew why. *Her daughter is here.* He said nothing.

She’d received 200,000 credit points. She’d give every bit to the fallen’s families.

Mai simply replied, “I see.”

The heater hummed. Yukieda shrugged her fair shoulders.

Mai glanced up casually. “How *did* you bypass Borel’s defenses? Mr. Kenji’s curious too.”

Yukieda transformed instantly into her Magical Girl form and summoned her weapon.

“This one.” She presented her second weapon: a Western-style pistol wrapped tightly in black ribbons.

“After fighting Borel the first time, my magic grew. Magic fired from here pierces her directly. Why? I don’t know.”

Mai examined the pistol. “Hey… haven’t the ribbons spread since last time?”

Yukieda checked. “You’re right. I didn’t notice.”

They now nearly covered the entire barrel.

Mai’s tone turned concerned. “No discomfort?”

She shook her head. “My magic feels fuller. Nothing else feels wrong.”

Seeing his seriousness, she tensed slightly.

“We meant to ask a senior… Since it’s getting cold, let’s visit Master Dai.”

“Mas… Master Dai?” Familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“The S-rank Magical Girl who cursed you. She visits Yasaka Hot Springs every winter. We’ll go see her.”

Yukieda shot up from the sofa.

If she had one wish left—it was to reunite with her daughter.

She *had* to break this curse.