“How’s it going?”
Su Mu’s lashes fluttered twice before her eyes snapped open.
At the sight, Luo Jialan leaned forward, her voice brimming with urgency.
Su Mu tried to pull her hand back, only to realize it had gone cold, gripped too tightly for too long.
It was as if she’d slept on her arm for an hour—her fingers were practically numb, barely registering as her own.
“Ugh, let go already! You’ve squeezed the life out of my hand!”
Luo Jialan blinked, as if waking from a trance, and quickly released her grip, letting blood rush back into Su Mu’s palm.
“No need to hold on that tight, you know. Anyway, it worked out pretty well. We shouldn’t have to worry about things spiraling out of control for now.”
“…Thank you.”
Luo Jialan’s gaze dipped, her soft murmur of gratitude catching Su Mu off guard.
The quiet sincerity felt oddly out of place, making Su Mu shift uncomfortably.
“Alright, alright, I told you—just add some coconut jelly to my Fresh Orange Smash at the shop, and we’re square.”
“That doesn’t even taste good.”
“I don’t care. I want it.”
Su Mu’s stubborn pout and crossed arms drew a soft chuckle from Luo Jialan, who shook her head in defeat.
Fine, then—no takebacks.
“Well, well, looks like you handled that nicely, Su Mu.”
Tang Nai’s voice cut through the moment, drifting in from the doorway.
Su Mu struck a proud pose, hands on hips, her grin practically sparkling.
“That’s what we call talent. Hmph!”
“Oh, is that so? Seems our dear Su Mu has grown into a full-fledged magical girl, ready to take on the world. In that case, maybe it’s time we go over the bill…”
Su Mu’s lips pursed into a dramatic pout, though her reaction lacked the fire it once held.
After a few days with Tang Nai, she’d figured out the so-called “bill” was just a playful scare tactic, nothing serious.
Still, she wasn’t about to linger on the topic.
“So, when are we hitting the beach? I’m not scared anymore—not one bit!”
“Ho ho, bold words! Did you get that swimsuit? Let’s see it.”
Su Mu shot Tang Nai a skeptical glance but relented, pulling out a peach-colored swimsuit and holding it up against herself with a flourish.
“Pretty nice, right?”
“Not bad at all… fits you perfectly. Alright, we’ll head out tomorrow.”
Thanks to a certain someone’s antics, Lando’s hands had worked their magic, transforming Su Mu into a fearless warrior for the day.
Not only had she shed her usual hesitations, but she was practically buzzing with excitement for tomorrow’s plans.
And who wouldn’t be?
A beach trip with a gaggle of swimsuit-clad magical girls?
Even a mouse would dare to dream of such a thing!
Seeing Su Mu’s newfound ease, Tang Nai said nothing more.
She slipped out of the room quietly, a pale blue swimsuit in her hand dissolving into scattered motes of magic, unnoticed.
‘Guess she’s happy with hers.’
‘No need for this one, then.’
***
Somewhere along the border of the Dream Realm, in a place known as the Neon Veil, the world shimmered with an ethereal glow.
Hues of neon painted the scene in dreamlike splendor—fitting, for this was the deepest layer of the dreamscape.
Massive carp swam through the air, flipping lazily as if crossing an invisible chasm between the inky sky and the delicate veil woven of radiant lights.
Yet, few on the ground bothered to gawk at the spectacle.
In this chaotic, fragmented dreamscape, such wonders might appear in something as mundane as a puddle, rendering them commonplace to those who dwelled here.
By contrast, a small bar tucked into a corner—unremarkable, like any you’d find in the waking world—felt oddly out of place in its normalcy.
Inside, witches clinked glasses, their bodies swaying gently to the flickering lights.
They chewed and swallowed canned herring with unflinching calm, the sharp, briny stench filling their mouths.
If you ignored that detail, you might almost believe nothing was amiss.
A girl in a dark purple witch’s hat paused outside the bar, lifting the brim to confirm the sign scrawled in bold, rugged letters: (Black Cat Tavern).
With a decisive step, she crossed the threshold, her boots clicking sharply against the wooden floor.
The sound drew eyes—not out of annoyance, but because the rhythm of her steps was unmistakably familiar.
“One Witch’s Special, please. You know, the kind with my exclusive chocolate nameplate on the rim.”
The bartender, a woman with short chestnut hair, gave Irina a silent stare before pointing to a sign nearby:
“Witches under eighteen are prohibited from drinking.”
“Oh, come on! By real-world standards, I’m a solid eighteen this year. No way I’m still in the ‘minor’ category!”
The bartender flipped the sign over, revealing another line: “Age calculated by Dream Realm standards.”
Irina clicked her tongue, her lips twisting into a petulant frown.
“So stubborn. No wonder you don’t get new customers. Fine, just give me a Fresh Orange Smash.”
She hadn’t forgotten her beloved drink.
The bartender rolled her eyes but nodded, a blood-red orange materializing in her hand.
With a deft motion, she crushed it into a container, juicing it raw.
No smashing stick required—this method was purer, anyway.
As the drink was prepared, Irina perched at the bar, grinning at the wary glances cast her way by the other witches.
“Why’re you back? What’s it this time?” a petite witch snapped, her tone dripping with irritation.
Her grudge against Irina mirrored Su Mu’s toward Tang Nai.
“What, I can’t just drop by for a drink?” Irina shot back, feigning offense.
A more mature witch sighed, shaking her head.
“You’re starting to sound like that rabbit.”
“Who can blame me? None of you ever want to chat, so I end up picking up her habits.”
The petite witch jumped in with a jab.
“Only someone as shameless as you could get that close to her.”
“Shameless? Please, it’s called social prowess,” Irina retorted, unfazed.
The surrounding witches shot her collective looks of disdain, but Irina didn’t so much as blink.
She was used to it by now.
“Alright, let’s get to business. You remember the Desire Witch, right?”
“Of course,” the petite witch said, smirking.
“She came sniffing around here before, didn’t she? What, you into her now? Think you can handle all her admirers?”
Irina’s lips curved into a sly smile.
“As if I’m that frivolous. But I’ll admit, I’m a little curious—what if she ends up as my future mother-in-law?”
She let the words hang, deliberately drawing out the tease.
The others’ curiosity piqued instantly, even the bartender glancing over.
“No way! Who’s the lucky one? Desire’s got a daughter? Let me see!”
Irina hummed, brushing off the excitement.
“Dream on. Just do your job and don’t pry. I want everything you’ve got on the Desire Witch’s disappearance. Get to it—payment’s on the tab, deducted from what you owe me.”
With that, she propped her feet up as the bartender slid the blood-red Fresh Orange Smash across the counter.
Irina took a satisfied sip.
“Ugh, you’re the worst. Do we really owe you that much? It’s been forever, and we’re still not square. You’re worse than that rabbit,” the bartender grumbled.
“Why, thank you for the compliment,” Irina said with a grin.
“Just wait,” the petite witch muttered, glaring.
“One day, I’ll break free of this debt contract—and when I do, you’re the first one I’m coming for!”