Yinlin was still charging her attack, and it looked like she needed a full five minutes.
Unbeknownst to her, her appearance had prompted the Human Alliance to hold two meetings about her in a short time.
The first was a small emergency meeting with a few secondary leaders from the Eastern Sub-Alliance, discussing her case.
They formed a task force to investigate her origins, abilities, and moral alignment, with a focus on her sense of good and evil.
A team of over a hundred experts in various fields analyzed her in just one day, using civilian footage and the traces of destruction she left behind.
Today, when she appeared again, the Eastern Sub-Alliance held another meeting, this time with nearly all secondary leaders present, discussing her in multiple languages.
The main screen played a live feed—not Liang Tai’s stream, but high-definition footage from official drones, clear enough to count her eyelashes in close-ups.
A secondary screen froze on an image of the silver-haired girl wiping tears.
Physics experts analyzed it, concluding her magic shield wasn’t fully damage-proof.
Her pained expressions when hitting the ground suggested she still felt some impact, just masking it with composure.
Psychology experts weighed in, using the Enneagram framework, pegging her as a leader type—self-centered, dismissive of weakness, impulsive, and competitive.
They rambled on.
Sociology experts droned about the societal impact of her appearance, more long-winded analysis.
This had been the focus of discussions over the past two days.
Someone finally lost patience, slamming the table: “Enough nonsense! Can we take her down or not?”
“Not recommended. Based on the analysis, she leans toward humanity, with a 64% good to 36% evil ratio. We can act, but it’s not advised. We don’t know her temperament yet.”
“But she’s too dangerous to ignore! She’s second only to that one.”
In short, the Eastern Sub-Alliance, after initial talks, decided to rank the silver-haired girl 10th on the wanted list.
The update wasn’t finalized yet—it depended on how she handled this demon.
Regardless, the outcome likely wouldn’t change much. She was charging up, clearly planning something big.
If she caused significant casualties or property damage, her spot on the wanted list was assured.
Strategies to deal with her were still under debate: prioritize killing, capturing, or letting her roam?
The “let her roam” faction held a slight edge, followed by the capture faction, with the kill faction being the smallest.
The roam faction feared that targeting magical girls could backfire, provoking retaliation.
A magical girl turning against humanity would be a massive problem.
This was why, despite the wanted list existing for years, magical girls did as they pleased, coexisting relatively peacefully with humans.
The list was more of a warning: *You’re being watched, don’t step out of line.*
The roam faction stayed dominant, avoiding harsh actions against magical girls.
If they acted and failed, how would they handle the fallout?
These were tough questions.
The earlier gunfire aimed at her was a test of her reaction.
Would she retaliate or hold back?
The Eastern Sub-Alliance needed data on her responses.
Seeing the silver-haired girl’s mild temperament, someone suggested, “Why not shoot a few more times?”
Clearly, to the Human Alliance, she wasn’t yet the “most evil” magical girl.
On that note, someone in the meeting room brought up, “If we keep attacking magical girls, what if we create another Black Phoenix?”
The name sent chills through the room.
Black Phoenix, number one on the wanted list.
When she debuted, she told a media interview she aimed to be a magical girl who “punishes good and promotes evil.”
A week later: I’m a magical girl, I do what I want!
A month later: I don’t eat beef.
There’s a reason she was the top dog on the list.
The mention of Black Phoenix quieted the room.
After debate, they decided to hold off and evacuate nearby civilians.
They had one minute left—what could they do in one minute?
Receiving urgent evacuation orders, security personnel sprang into action, guiding onlookers to underground facilities like the subway.
On the battlefield, Huanhong’s fight was over, her body covered in demon fluids.
Panting, she looked at Yinlin nearby.
Magical girls see differently than humans, and Huanhong could clearly sense or see the terrifying magical aura around Yinlin.
Its scale was staggering.
It was the most exaggerated magical concentration Huanhong had ever seen.
If other magical girls’ magic was a small pond, Yinlin’s was a lake.
Huanhong wasn’t the only one scared—even the low-intelligence demon was spooked.
What followed was an interesting scene.
Huanhong rushed over, trying to stop Yinlin’s charge.
“Stop! You can’t shoot! You wanna destroy the city?!”
The demon also tried to stop her, grabbing Yinlin but was blocked by her shield.
It tore at the shield with full force. In its berserk state, it was strong enough to cause faint cracks.
“Damn it, get out of the way!” Yinlin was almost done charging, just seconds away.
“You can’t shoot!” Huanhong yelled.
“Sorry, everyone, it won’t hurt. I’ll make sure you go peacefully,” Yinlin said, though no one knew if she meant it.
Huanhong, terrified, hooked her wand around her upper body, grabbed the demon’s body with both hands, and forcibly flew upward with it.
If her enhanced state was still active, she could’ve finished the demon herself, but her magic was depleted, unable to sustain it.
In her normal state, she couldn’t break a berserk demon’s defenses.
She had to drag it into the sky.
The demon wasn’t cooperative, landing several punches that left her bloodied.
“Diu lei lou mou, why am I always the one saving everyone?!” She flew hundreds of meters up, hurled the demon upward, and dove down at full speed to escape.
“Pierce… the Star Sea!” A faint shout rang out.
Huanhong felt it—the nuke had launched.
She didn’t dare look back, plummeting at the fastest speed of her life.
She didn’t even think about braking.
Yinlin had indeed fired. A massive beam shot from the magic circle in front of her.
She aimed for the sky.
Mindful of her ally’s safety, she didn’t target the demon directly but aimed higher, where nothing was in the way.
The demon was falling, and the beam was about to hit its mark.
At that moment, those not yet in the subway looked up.
Security personnel turned to the sky.
People in buildings and passersby on the street all looked up.
Liang Tai, under the car, turned to face the sky, his drone aimed upward.
A blinding light, brighter than the sun, forced most to close their eyes, unable to look.
Liang Tai, smartly wearing sunglasses, could still watch.
The world turned white, vision consumed by the glare.
A second later, the explosion’s sound hit, shaking the ground. Eardrums throbbed as if hammered, painfully swollen.
Five seconds later, visible shockwaves swept through, shattering most nearby glass. Car alarms blared in unison.
Subway facilities shook for a while, as if about to collapse.
The demon, caught in the blast’s range, was engulfed in light, vaporized instantly, not a trace left.
Twenty seconds later, the light dimmed enough to see.
A massive orb of light—or fireball?—hung in the city’s sky, slowly dissipating.
Nearby buildings were a mess, not collapsed but with nearly all their glass shattered.
The temperature felt a few degrees hotter, like being baked.
I really don’t understand why he want charge it to full when it’s not needed and dangerous. Pushing him even more up the research list he don’t want to be in
Because its cool, and unsatisfying to launch a weak blast
Why settle for a 3-meter one when you can have a 10km one?