That disaster—no matter how many years had passed—still couldn’t be settled in her heart.
To most people, magical girls might be messengers of hope and justice.
Mo Shuhua had never thought of them that way.
She just didn’t want there to ever be another Mo Shuhua in this world.
Leaving the past aside, the group chat had now reached the peak of its discussion, which had split into two major camps:
- Public Disclosure and Large-Scale Manhunt
- Strict Secrecy and Enhanced Urban Surveillance
In short: the Disclosure Faction and the Secrecy Faction.
The main argument of the Disclosure Faction was: solve this crisis as fast as possible.
Every second of delay meant indirectly causing more deaths.
Publishing the information would enable a nationwide search, ensuring the fastest possible way to locate the source of the calamity.
The Secrecy Faction’s stance was: what do you think is the most likely outcome if the news goes public?
Mass panic on a global scale.
Besides, a world-level calamity—where would you even run?
Nowhere is safe.
There’s nothing more important than public confidence.
Once panic spreads, society itself teeters on the edge of collapse.
The resulting chain reaction could be even more terrifying than the calamity itself.
Neither side could convince the other, until the group leader spoke: “Let’s put it to a vote.”
At that moment, everyone fell silent.
Not long after, a group poll was posted.
Mo Shuhua cast her vote as well.
Disclosure.
She hit the confirm button and waited for the poll to end.
The votes were neck and neck.
Neither side gained a decisive advantage.
In the end, it came down to a final deadlock: 55 to 55—a painfully awkward result.
[Group Leader] Black Sheep: “Since no one can make a decision, I’ll cast the final vote.”
Secrecy +1.
With that last vote, the decision was finalized.
No one knew what Black Sheep was truly thinking—only that she had cast the decisive final ballot.
[Group Leader] Black Sheep: “Alright. Pugongying will post the result on the official site later. That’s it for today’s discussion.”
The moment she saw the result, Mo Shuhua’s right hand clenched instinctively and slammed the desk.
But she quickly collected herself.
She had been too impulsive.
“At least this time, I know what it is. As long as I can find it, that’s enough.”
Mo Shuhua rubbed her temples, trying to suppress the anger stirred by that last vote.
Once she felt mostly calm again, she picked up the iced coffee beside her desk and took a sip.
Amid the chill and bitterness, Mo Shuhua finally regained composure.
“Magical girls, in the end, are a highly autonomous organization. We’re not the military. Every magical girl has her own decision-making power. Aside from broad strategies, there aren’t many hard restrictions.”
Mo Shuhua came to terms with this: the justice of magical girls was never something to be caged by rules.
But before she could rest for long, the time displayed at the bottom right corner of her screen sent a wave of despair through her.
12:00 AM.
“Crap! I was so focused on the calamity stuff, I completely forgot I haven’t finished the company’s PPT!”
One mouse, one keyboard, one computer, one night—a miracle.
Mo Shuhua scrambled to type.
If she didn’t finish her work, she could kiss this month’s salary goodbye.
And then she wouldn’t be able to support her mom’s retirement.
Turns out, the life of a working person is the same everywhere.
Do dreams matter more than money?
Obviously not.
With money, you can still think about your dreams for tomorrow.
Without money, you should probably start thinking about how to survive.
Only those who stay alive deserve to chase their dreams!
A new day dawned.
Ye Jinyi sat up in bed.
“Ohayo! Another beautiful day!”
She had to admit—life after quitting really was delightful～
Endless vacation—what’s not to love?
As for being broke?
Ye Jinyi insisted that as long as she didn’t check her bank balance, her money wasn’t gone yet!
You could say her ability to deceive herself was pretty impressive.
Face reality?
Not Ye Jinyi’s style.
She pulled a big T-shirt from under the bed and threw it on.
It still left part of her calves exposed—and just a tiny bit off the shoulder…
“Does this count as classic shoulder-slide chic?”
With her shoulder drooping lazily, Ye Jinyi once again dragged her work chair to the bathroom for her daily routine.
Standing before the mirror, Ye Jinyi stared at her increasingly messy hair and couldn’t help but reflect.
“Should I… buy a comb or something?”
Sure, she was a total shut-in, so worrying about appearances wasn’t really necessary—but this constant hair-wrestling really was annoying.
Having made up her mind, she turned up the tap and squeezed out some shampoo.
At least get her hair clean first.
After washing, she combed her fingers through her hair.
Looking in the mirror at the petite loli with soft blonde straight hair, she had to admit—it looked pretty good.
No denying it, this body had a great base.
No matter how she dressed it up, it still looked cute.
“Come to think of it…”
Ye Jinyi pressed a few times on the strand of hair poking out from the top of her head, but no matter what she did, it wouldn’t stay down.
“Is this ahoge welded on or something?”
Eventually, Ye Jinyi gave up trying to figure it out.
After drying her face, she pushed the chair out of the bathroom.
Once the chair was back in place, she found the set of clothes she wore after turning into a little girl.
She changed, grabbed her phone, and headed for the door to go out and stock up on supplies.
But just as she turned the doorknob, she suddenly remembered the message Huimengyi had sent her last night.
Realizing what that meant, Ye Jinyi slammed the door shut.
“Forgot I’m a wanted girl now!”
Ye Jinyi slumped helplessly to the floor—seemed like going outside wasn’t an option anymore.
Yesterday afternoon, not being spotted was purely dumb luck.
Even managing to escape from a magical girl in the early morning—just more luck, nothing else.
“Damn it!” Ye Jinyi grumbled.
“If I really am a calamity, then can’t I at least have some calamity powers?!”
“If I’m supposed to be a villain, can’t I get some actual villain skills or something?!”
She looked at the Red Rose Ring on her ring finger.
“Hey, aren’t you part of my body now? Your host is about to starve to death! Aren’t you supposed to be the most powerful calamity? Do something already!”
…
But Ye Jinyi’s complaints did nothing to sway the Red Rose Ring.
It continued to completely ignore her.
“You’re the dumbest parasite I’ve ever seen.”
Ye Jinyi gave up trying to reason with it.
She couldn’t count on this thing for anything—aside from making her life miserable, it was utterly useless.
Even a parasite knows it has to keep its host alive—otherwise, it dies too.
So no matter what, parasites at least try to protect the host a little.
But this damn ring? It did absolutely nothing but make her life harder!
“Whatever.”
Ye Jinyi gave up completely, pulled out her phone, and opened Taobao, ready to buy some props for a disguise.
