Back home, Song Wuli reverted to his original form, took a shower, and went to bed.
Looking at Diamond curled up on the living room sofa, he asked, “Wanna come sleep in the room?”
Diamond: “No way, cough cough.”
It coughed a few times—if it kept coughing all night, no one would sleep.
Song Wuli: “Alright.”
He went to bed alone, predictably tossing and turning, his mind racing with today’s intel.
His world was called Alpha World. Diamond claimed it needed saving, but Song Wuli didn’t think the world was doomed—just humanity.
Demons from Beta World had been attacking humans for decades, carving out their own territory.
They lacked the power to destroy the world or Earth; their goal was to wipe out humans.
This was humanity’s catastrophe, not the world’s or Earth’s.
Was Diamond hiding something?
Diamond said “save the world,” maybe not a slip but a hint that demons truly aimed to destroy the world, not just humans.
Or maybe it was a mistake—Diamond might think humanity’s extinction equaled the world’s.
Song Wuli mulled over these questions, growing restless.
He fell asleep at 4 a.m., only to be woken hours later by the alarm for work.
Sigh, the life of a worker.
Three Red Bulls and four coffees later, he was fueled.
During lunch break, he crashed, hanging a “Do Not Disturb” sign.
Huang Yijun and Qian Dehao approached, saw the sign, and debated for ten minutes whether to wake him for some fun.
Huang Yijun was pro: lunch breaks were for fun, not wasting.
Qian Dehao was against: Song Wuli looked exhausted, always swamped, and needed rest.
They argued over this trivial issue for ten minutes.
“You guys are annoying. Take your arguing to the cafeteria,” Song Wuli said, waking up.
They slunk off, actually continuing the debate in the cafeteria—whether to drag Song Wuli for fun.
Song Wuli went back to sleep.
It hurt—this nap cost him 1,200 yuan.
He skipped his shift at No. 8 Milk Tea Shop.
Afternoon work rolled around, and Song Wuli regained focus, grinding through copywriting tasks.
Tedious, but it was for survival.
His day job was for survival; the milk tea gig was for living.
The side hustle could be dropped, but the main job couldn’t.
An email popped up from the supervisor, sent to the team.
Opening it, it was mostly corporate fluff about the company thriving.
The crux: the copywriting team needed to speed up for the new game version’s scripts.
Odd—the company seemed unusually invested in this game update, showing repeated concern.
Huang Yijun messaged privately: dinner tonight? It’s been ages since we hung out.
Song Wuli agreed: Sure, pick a place.
He didn’t think much of it when replying, but by evening, he regretted letting Huang Yijun choose.
At 7:30 p.m., for others it was overtime; for Song Wuli, it was leaving early.
Leaving the office, Huang Yijun didn’t head to the parking lot but led them on foot.
The place must be close.
“Where are we going?” Song Wuli asked nervously, sensing something.
The direction felt off—not unfamiliar, but too familiar.
Huang Yijun: “Barbecue place.”
Song Wuli played dumb: “Isn’t this the street hit by demons the other day? Blasted by a magical girl? Are places still open?”
Huang Yijun: “You’ll see. It’ll blow your mind.”
Song Wuli knew but pretended ignorance.
Qian Dehao was genuinely clueless.
The closer they got, the bigger the crowd.
Qian Dehao asked curiously, “Construction workers for rebuilding? Why so many people?”
Huang Yijun stayed cryptic, acting mysterious.
Song Wuli kept up the clueless act.
They reached the street, packed with people.
Yinlin’s blast had turned it into a cultural hotspot.
Qian Dehao spotted a Lawson convenience store with magical girl figurines in the display.
Yinlin’s had over a dozen; Huanhong’s had two; other magical girls had one or two each.
Some trendy youngsters walked in, buying out Yinlin’s figurines in one swoop.
This was all new to Qian Dehao. A few steps later, he saw a bookstore.
He stopped, staring through the newly fixed glass: “Wait, didn’t this place sell stuff like Iceland’s Forest, Our Love, One-Centimeter Orange Tree—weird stuff? What’s this now?”
He pointed at the display: Yinlin? I Quit Ages Ago, After Transforming, My Fantasia with Yinlin, What’s It Like Marrying Demon King Yinlin?
“What the heck?”
Huang Yijun explained: “It’s called riding the trend—eat till you’re full. Go against it, starve.”
Qian Dehao’s jaw dropped, and Song Wuli was genuinely shocked too—he hadn’t visited lately, too focused on the milk tea shop.
Huang Yijun: “Old Song, why’re your ears red?”
Song Wuli: “Too hot. Damn weather’s killing me.”
They walked further, spotting a Sichuan restaurant installing a big screen, testing it.
Staff played a clip of silver-haired Yinlin in their uniform, with a dubbed voice shouting:
“Old Nine Sichuan Restaurant, welcome! The only Sichuan spot endorsed by Magical Girl Yinlin!”
Qian Dehao’s face was full of question marks, feeling surreal.
Song Wuli lowered his head, too embarrassed to look.
Huang Yijun took selfies with the screen, like he was posing with Yinlin.
Past the restaurant, they kept walking.
Qian Dehao, stunned: “Is this the same street? I was here last month—it wasn’t like this. Did I teleport abroad?”
Huang Yijun: “You don’t get it? To explain this change, let me introduce our Lord and Heavenly Father…”
Minutes later, they reached the barbecue place.
“Welcome,” a staffer said flatly.
The vibe was odd—staff in Yinlin’s outfit greeted customers at the door. No wigs or wands, just cosplay clothes.
Even so, it worked—there was a line outside.
If Huang Yijun hadn’t booked a pricey table, they’d be waiting.
“Hey, how many times have I told you—how do we treat dear fans?” a manager scolded the cosplay staffer.
The manager noticed Huang Yijun’s Yinlin T-shirt, clearly a fan.
The staffer forced a reluctant smile and shouted at Huang Yijun: “Pierce the Star Sea.” Flat, half-hearted.
Huang Yijun gleefully mimed a cannon shot, shouting back, “Pierce the Star Sea!”
Ugh, cringe. Song Wuli wiped sweat from his brow. So this is how embarrassing his catchphrase looked to others?
I mean, they should pay her for using her image that much no ? If she was to come and destroy their shop because of that they wouldn’t have any right to complain about it lol
Magical girls are enemies of the state. They don’t have any rights to their image