About twenty minutes later, Su Mu’s face was flushed, and she was out of breath as she clutched her disheveled shirt, carefully lifting it off the slippery edge of the sink.
‘I knew this girl had no good intentions!’
“I’m done!”
Su Mu wrapped up her apron and tossed it toward Luo Jialan, then shuffled weakly toward the back room.
If this kept up, she’d be squeezed dry like a mouse cake.
Luo Jialan caught the apron and wiped her hands, the sickly smile in her eyes deepening gradually.
She hadn’t slept all night—not just because of excitement, but more because she didn’t want to return to the dreamscape.
There was no real Su Mu in the dream.
No matter how many times she imagined it—hundreds, thousands—it couldn’t compare to the moment her fingertips touched reality.
In front of that dreamscape computer, Luo Jialan had continued writing tens of thousands of words of fanfiction about Magical Girl Lando, exhausting her already mediocre imagination.
Now, she was going to turn it into a diary.
Meanwhile, in the room, Su Mu was grumbling at Irina.
“When will this be over? I’m about to dehydrate.”
“Then drink water.” Irina answered helplessly.
It would be another ten hours before she could reconnect with Su Mu.
Ten hours was enough time to do a lot of things, and Irina’s biggest worry was that Su Mu would be affected by Luo Jialan’s strong, desire-filled Dark Magic Power.
Though she couldn’t see any progress bars or the like, Irina knew clearly that Su Mu’s resistance was slowly weakening—from extreme refusal at first to hesitant acceptance now.
In a few more hours, it would be even harder to imagine.
Would Luo Jialan ease up during these ten hours?
Or keep pressing forward?
Irina didn’t even need to think about it—it would definitely be the latter.
Luo Jialan was currently at a stage where she was about to fully become a witch.
Accordingly, her Dark Magic Power and desire would only continue to expand without pause.
This had nothing to do with any cooldowns, so…
Heaven only knew how many chances she’d give Su Mu to catch her breath.
“Don’t drink water yet. Save me! When she touches me, I lose all strength. Think of something, all-powerful Irina!”
“Even if you treat me like Doraemon, it won’t help. My suggestion is to hide in the bathroom for a while.”
At this, Su Mu’s mouth twitched slightly.
The bathroom used to be the safest place in the world.
Back then, Su Mu thought so too while hiding in the corner of the shower—until some blue-haired girl barged in roughly.
The bathroom was also convenient for running water, and for stripping clothes.
Sigh, is this really the end?
Irina was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke.
“I have another method, but it might require some irreversible sacrifices.”
“Irreversible?”
Su Mu was taken aback, but when she considered the possible consequences of continuing like this, she steeled herself.
“Go ahead.”
“Tell her your period is coming and it’s really painful.”
“Huh?”
‘How can you say something so shocking with a straight face?! I’m having my period, really?’
“I’m not joking. This is the most reliable way.”
Irina sighed.
The situation now was that the more Su Mu resisted, the more excited Luo Jialan became.
And Su Mu was powerless to fight back.
So the best method was to use an objective factor to block Luo Jialan.
If you’ve got the guts, face the endless flood head-on!
Effective. Absolutely effective.
But the price…
“How do you want me to have my period?”
Su Mu hadn’t accepted that she was a girl yet.
The most she could accept was that others saw her as a Magical Girl.
Beating-up Magical Girl Irina?
That had nothing to do with Su Mu.
At least she didn’t feel much difference in her life now compared to before.
Wasn’t it just a couple more nuisances?
And those nuisances felt kind of fun to touch.
Simply put, Su Mu hadn’t fully felt the differences brought by the change in gender yet.
The first breakthrough was brought on by Luo Jialan—one night that forced Su Mu to honestly face her own body.
And now, she was about to rip open a second breakthrough.
“Even if you say that, I don’t know how to do it.”
“Then look it up online.”
“Look it up? You mean typing ‘symptoms of menstruation’ into the search bar?”
“Yes!”
Su Mu rolled her eyes, wishing she could jump into the dreamscape, grab Irina’s soft cheeks just like hers, and squeeze tears out of her.
‘Ugh, you big-headed ghost!’
“Su Mu, I’m coming in.”
Suddenly, a knock came at the door, causing Su Mu to leap up, sitting upright on the bed.
“Wait, I’m feeling a bit unwell.”
“I know that, which is why I’m here to bring you something.”
Luo Jialan pushed the door open and, in Su Mu’s dazed gaze, stuffed a very pink, soft package into her hands.
It was a mysterious thing Su Mu often saw at the supermarket, something a single man should probably avoid.
“I-I-I…”
Su Mu trembled and lowered her head, then as if making a firm decision, tore open the plastic packaging.
At least pain and turmoil wouldn’t be addictive.
***
“Long time no see, Tang Nai.”
“Oh, it’s you, my hated little sister.”
Tang Nai, looking somewhat tired, didn’t even turn her head at this uninvited visitor.
She calmly sipped her coffee.
“Don’t call me that.”
The woman whom Tang Nai called sister was the mysterious lady who had appeared not long ago.
In terms of body size, Tang Nai looked like a kid.
Next to the woman, she didn’t look much like an older sister, and the latter seemed to strongly reject that relationship between them.
“Sis, the name doesn’t matter. Even if I don’t say it, you know how much I hate your personality, don’t you?”
“You know I’m not talking about that, Tang Nai. I’ve never thought this relationship, maintained by blood ties, should exist.”
The woman’s voice suddenly turned sharp and cold, freezing the mysterious aura around her to a bone-chilling degree, pressing toward Tang Nai, who was calmly enjoying her warm coffee.
But undoubtedly, these words had no effect on Tang Nai.
They couldn’t even ripple her coffee.
“This kind of thing isn’t up to you to decide, after all, it’s an undeniable fact.”
Tang Nai took a sip of coffee, her face still wearing a bland smile.
A smile—polite, appropriate, a smile that seemed to be a constant in her life, always on her lips.
The only time it broke was when she encountered something truly amusing.
Like certain little episodes that delighted her dark sense of humor.
Looking at Tang Nai’s familiar appearance, the woman lost her smile first—obviously, this smile was a family trait, but not everyone could maintain it at all times.
“Do you find this amusing? Hah, forget it. I won’t waste words on you about this. I have more important matters to attend to this time.”