No wonder Ning Ling had blurted out such peculiar remarks earlier.
But hold on—let’s get one thing straight.
What kind of fish are we talking about here?
Is this fish even legit?
“Wait a second,” Luo Jialan interjected, her brow furrowing.
“You mentioned a magical girl named Ning Xi. Why haven’t I ever heard of her?”
After hearing the rather unsavory details, Luo Jialan couldn’t help but feel a bead of sweat trickle down her temple.
It wasn’t that she feared Ning Xi; she might be tied to her by blood.
After all, Luo Linglan’s escapades after leaving were nothing short of scandalous—flitting about like a reckless butterfly, leaving no trace behind.
More likely, Ning Xi was just one of the rare souls who’d managed to wrestle back some semblance of control.
Besides, whether it was Ning Ling or that Ning Xi bound up in the café, their physical builds hardly seemed capable of producing someone like Luo Jialan.
Surely it couldn’t be some cosmic twist of extremes, could it?
“Because Ning Xi is a free magical girl,” came the reply.
“Even the Combat Division doesn’t know her true identity. All they have is her codename: Ning Xi.”
Su Mu, unable to resist, piped up with a question.
“So, are we considered official magical girls with, like, a proper rank?”
“Not exactly,” the response came.
“Strictly speaking, only those directly under the Combat Division have official status. The Master is the highest authority in this city, and she’s the only one with a formal rank. You lot? You’re more like her personal militia.”
What an odd way to put it.
‘My vassal’s vassal isn’t my vassal, is that it?’
Before Su Mu could press further, Luo Jialan flicked her forehead lightly.
“Stop interrupting.”
Su Mu pouted, clearly displeased.
‘But I’m just so curious!”
“The situation, roughly, is this: many of the Ning Xi test subjects have been successfully deployed to the Combat Division. They’re scattered far and wide to prevent any resonance between them. A rogue like Number Six, though? That was an accident.”
Su Mu recalled Ning Xi’s frenzied, almost feral state—wild-eyed and unrecognizing.
She shook her head.
‘Those types don’t exactly scream ‘ready for duty,’ do they?’
Something fishy was going on.
After a moment’s thought, Luo Jialan spoke up again, her tone sharp.
“Hold on. You all carry fragments of her memories, don’t you?”
Ning Ling tilted her head to one side, as if dodging the question.
“That’s a strange thing to ask. I’m not them, so how would I know what’s in their memories?”
Luo Jialan took a deep breath, steadying herself.
“Let’s hypothesize, then. Don’t they also have a piece of Luo Linglan’s core?”
Ning Ling nodded thoughtfully.
“When you put it that way, it’s possible.”
Luo Jialan’s eyes narrowed, catching a glint of something in Ning Ling’s demeanor.
She hadn’t once referred to the Desire Witch by her full name, “Luo Linglan,” in this conversation.
Yet Ning Ling had responded without hesitation, as if she knew exactly who was being discussed.
It made sense, of course.
Ning Ling claimed to carry the core of temperance from Luo Linglan, so having some of her memories was only logical.
But there was something in the way Ning Ling spoke earlier—a hint of deliberate omission, as if she were hiding the fact that she held those memories.
Could it be she didn’t want anyone to know she had them?
“And you?” Luo Jialan pressed, her words laced with a subtle trap.
“What about the memories of Luo Linglan you carry?”
Her gaze lingered on Ning Ling’s eyes, searching for any flicker of deceit.
But Ning Ling’s expression remained unruffled, betraying no sign of discomfort.
It left Luo Jialan puzzled.
“No comment,” Ning Ling replied coolly.
‘No comment?’
The response caught Luo Jialan off guard, her jaw nearly dropping.
She’d expected Ning Ling to deny having the memories outright if she wanted to keep them secret.
Instead, this brazen honesty was almost infuriating.
“So, you do have Luo Linglan’s memories?” Luo Jialan pressed further.
“I didn’t say that,” Ning Ling shot back.
“Then how do you know her name?”
Ning Ling froze for a split second, then blinked innocently.
“I’m sorry, who’s Luo Linglan?”
‘Oh, come on, that’s way too fake!’
Luo Jialan stared, speechless, as Ning Ling maintained her infuriatingly nonchalant facade, not a trace of guilt in sight.
This woman wasn’t just the type to spout outrageous nonsense without flinching—she was a liar who didn’t even bother to think her lies through!
Suddenly, Ning Ling struck a pose that felt eerily familiar to Luo Jialan, her words echoing a certain woman’s cadence.
“My apologies, I’m not much for words.”
Luo Linglan used to say that all the time, usually before launching into some scolding tirade.
It was an odd opener, one that always felt out of place, though Luo Linglan’s tone would sharpen when she reprimanded Luo Jialan.
Ning Ling, however, left it at that, her voice flat.
With that, she turned and walked away, like an NPC unwilling to engage further.
As she drifted toward the distant shoreline, Luo Jialan didn’t stop her.
Instead, she wrestled with a quiet unease in her heart.
Could it be that Ning Ling held all of Luo Linglan’s memories from before her fall?
Did that mean the woman she’d tried so hard to leave behind was never truly gone—just lingering silently, watching her from a distance?
Ning Ling’s hotpot restaurant was barely a street away from Peace Road.
For a C-class mutant, sensing everything happening at the dojo with magical perception was no challenge.
Unconsciously, Luo Jialan twisted a lock of her hair around her finger.
She’d never quite understood how Luo Linglan viewed her, but one thing was clear: Luo Jialan had no desire to get entangled with her again.
Even now, she hadn’t fully escaped that shadow.
Lost in thought, she barely noticed the chill at her side until she realized Su Mu had darted off after Ning Ling.
‘What’s she chasing her for?’
Unbeknownst to Luo Jialan, Su Mu’s pursuit was driven purely by unresolved personal grudges.
“You’re still here?” Ning Ling asked, startled, as Su Mu tapped her shoulder.
“Huff… huff… I just have a few more questions,” Su Mu panted.
“Like…”
“I told you, no comment.”
“No, no, it’s not that! I’m just curious if you still have records of those online spats you had with Tang Nai. I want to see them.”
‘You little rabbit, let’s see how I turn the tables on you!’
“Oh, those?” Ning Ling smirked.
“I’ve kept them all as study materials.”
Moments later, Su Mu, thinking she’d gotten the upper hand, was grinning to herself.
‘Let’s see what you two were bickering about—’
[Gray Rabbit Milk Candy]: “Tomato hotpot is clearly the healthier choice. Its antioxidant content neutralizes up to 75% of free radicals, far surpassing spicy hotpot, and it’s gentler on sensitive stomachs.”
[Heavenly Ning Ling]: “Spicy hotpot boosts metabolism, equivalent to the energy burn of 45 minutes of moderate exercise—something tomato hotpot can’t match.”
‘What the heck are you two even talking about?!’
Su Mu plopped onto the ground in a duck-like squat, her mind spiraling into confusion.
‘Is this really how humans chat? It’s like two AI bots going at it!’
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.