No sooner had the words left her lips than Su Mu’s severed connection to her body snapped back into place, a flood of sickening sensations rushing into her mind.Â
A shudder rippled through her, uncontrollable and sharp.
Slippery tendrils slithered along the seams of her clothes, probing for entry, their suction and friction igniting her skin, taunting her nerves with a maddening dance.
Su Mu’s almond eyes flew wide in alarm.
This is bad—there’s really a girl after me!
Thank the stars she’d opted for a hoodie and long pants, forcing those creeping tentacles to take a winding, laborious path.
A skirt would have been a disaster—lifted once, and her most guarded secrets would be laid bare to prying eyes.
Irina, catching the sudden shift in Su Mu’s face, shed her casual tone for one of steely resolve and shouted:
“Do exactly as I say. Close your eyes.”
Su Mu froze, then obeyed without hesitation, her trust in the woman before her an inexplicable anchor in the storm.
For reasons she couldn’t grasp, this stranger’s presence steadied her, a lifeline amid chaos.
“Whisper to yourself, ‘I am the genius girl Irina.’”
The phrase, cloyingly sweet even on a screen, felt absurdly awkward to chant silently.
Did it really need that grandiose prefix?
But urgency trumped embarrassment.
She could feel those restless tendrils inching perilously close to the insides of her thighs.
Head bowed, Su Mu mouthed the words Irina fed her.
In an instant, the darkness behind her lids gave way to a new, alien vantage.
Through a faint barrier, she saw a familiar pink-haired girl, eyes squeezed shut, hands clasped behind her back in nervous tension, a wide hat brim partially shading the view.
Irina’s perspective.
The nauseating sensations vanished, severed cleanly, but so did her control.
Su Mu was a mere spectator now, watching her own body from afar.
A flicker of unease stirred within.
This isn’t good…
It felt like a scene torn from a novel’s pages: the ordinary protagonist, blindsided by a dormant, darker self, suddenly wielding uncanny power or purpose.
Yet Su Mu refused to believe she’d fractured into some split personality.
Her mind, she was certain, had always been sound.
Who are you, really?
“No need to puzzle over my identity,” Irina’s voice cut through, calm and clear, answering the question Su Mu hadn’t voiced.
“Just remember to call me when you’re in need.”
Su Mu’s heart leapt, startled.
Oh no, she hears my thoughts—hakimihakibahaki…
“Enough nonsense,” Irina chided gently.
“Muddling your mind with gibberish troubles me too.”
Erm, sorry.
***
The campus rang with the shrill buzz of alarms, yet no one fled in panic.
Students sat rigid in classrooms, spines straight, eyes locked in unison on a single point, as if walls couldn’t block their view of that mesmerizing figure.
Ning Xi, however, cared for no one but Su Mu.
Her invisible tendrils pressed on, driven by a thirst to unravel this prey, whose intoxicating scent captivated her.
To the eye, Su Mu was a novice magical girl, unremarkable.
But Ning Xi’s senses caught a sweetness more thrilling than Lu Shan’s, a fragrance that sent shivers through her core.
Her tongue traced her red lips, a hungry gesture.
Still, dissatisfaction gnawed at her.
Even with Su Mu in her grasp, a restless fire burned within, urging her to consume her prize then and there.
Restraint, though, was necessary.
A magical girl approached—the same formidable one who’d thwarted her before.
A clash here would cost her this chance at fulfillment.
For most, curbing desire meant a fleeting lapse in focus.
For Ning Xi, it was suffocation—face flushed, eyes dim, her commanding presence slashed in half.
Then, a spark of clarity flickered in her pupils, and life returned to her gaze.
Frowning, she sensed Lando’s approach.
Decisively, she tightened her hold on Su Mu, ready to bolt in the opposite direction.
Like before, she’d mask her monstrous aura, slip into the labyrinth of alleys, and vanish from any magical girl or fighter’s reach.
But as her toes flexed to launch, her body locked, rigid as stone.
The tendrils slackened, gently lowering their captive, then retreated behind Ning Xi like startled serpents.
“Bold move, siren girl,” a voice drawled.
Cold sweat beaded on Ning Xi’s brow, halted mid-drip by the figure closing in.
She was paralyzed, a finger’s twitch beyond her.
Desire ebbed like a receding tide, replaced by a primal fear of the unknown.
Irina’s hand drifted to her hat brim, found nothing, and a soft laugh escaped her.
Dark purple light swirled between her fingers, poised to weave a witch’s hat atop her head.
But with Lando thirty seconds away, she let her fingers part, the unborn magic dissolving without a trace of regret.
“No point in nerves—it won’t help,” Irina said coolly.
“Small fry like you belong on the cutting board. I, however, have decisions to make. Where to start carving, for instance—”
Ning Xi’s magical core wailed under Irina’s silver-gray stare, a petty clerk trembling before an emperor incognito.
What is this?
Who is this woman?
“Tch, time’s short. Scramble while you can.”
Irina’s features hardened.
She seized Ning Xi’s slender neck and flung her toward the classroom door.
Su Mu’s strength, even bolstered by dark magic, fell short.
Ning Xi didn’t sail cleanly but crashed into a wooden chair, curling in pain.
In a blink, Irina’s flat gaze bloomed with sky-blue light.
Su Mu collapsed into the chair, strength sapped, a tide of weakness surging through her limbs as the dark magic retreated.
Dazed, she stirred, reaching for the magic container on the floor, when a white blur streaked past, a gust whipping in its wake.
Ning Xi struggled up, only to find a gleaming saber at her throat.
“Move, and you’re dead,” Lando stated, her tone a quiet fact, not a threat.
Ning Xi’s lips twisted bitterly.
She glanced at Su Mu, then quelled her magic.
Almost in sync, a suited man stepped forward, a familiar face.
“Hello, Miss Lando. We meet again. May we take this monster off your hands?”
Agent 007 touched down on a gust, smoothed his collar, and spoke with measured calm.
Lando’s brow creased, uncertainty flickering, until Tang Nai’s voice murmured in her ear.
“Don’t even consider it. Three chances they’ve had, and they botched it. The combat team’s gorged on red beans long enough. Send him packing—or pound him flat like a monster if he balks.”
A faint smile curved Lando’s lips.
For once, that dead rabbit’s words rang true.
“Got it.”