The dark sky began to drizzle.
At the very top of the Securities Exchange Tower, a white-haired girl and a purple-haired girl stood facing each other.
In the distance, faint, inconspicuous glimmers clashed with the gloomy sky—those were reflections from sniper scopes.
A storm was gathering; distant thunder rumbled, and the crushing wind was about to strike.
A preliminary gust lifted the hem of Ciyue’s skirt and blew her long hair.
Yet the air between the two gradually grew heavy and stagnant.
“The remote control—is it meant to detonate that bomb?” Ciyue asked, holding back from rushing in.
Tianlang gripped the remote firmly in her palm.
“Don’t just look at this remote in my hand, Ciyue.”
Tianlang raised her other arm, revealing a black wristband faintly glowing with red light.
“This is a Life-Sign Detection System.”
The black wristband bore an unknown serial number; Ciyue didn’t understand its detailed function.
“It monitors my vital signs.”
Ciyue felt an ominous chill.
“It constantly sends neutrino signals to that bomb. Once I die, the signal cuts off.”
Tianlang’s face darkened, looking even more terrifying against the already gloomy sky as she calmly continued: “This bomb can be detonated in two ways—either manually triggered by the remote in my hand or by interrupting the neutrino signal from this wristband.”
“So, you can’t just kill me outright,” Ciyue said, voicing her suspicion. “Where is the bomb?”
“Not here. It was transferred elsewhere a long time ago.”
“So this is a trap?”
“No, it’s a stage. Right now, countless eyes are watching us.”
“What’s your goal?”
Ciyue no longer wanted to let Tianlang stall for time; she had only one option.
She unfolded her dreamscape, pulling Tianlang’s consciousness inside.
Everything around froze; raindrops hung suspended in the air.
“Heh, you pick up on things quickly.”
***
Next, the building sank into a sea of pitch-black indescribable matter, the dreamscape shifting rapidly. Vague, formless things materialized and then swept everything away.
A flash of red light pierced the dark sky, tearing the gray canopy into fragments that fell, revealing a blood-red dome.
The dreamspace’s structure became chaotic—Ciyue’s poor state was clear to Tianlang.
Synchronicity.
“I know you’re lost. Your heart has been stained by something called ‘doubt’—it will gradually erode your spiritual space and consume you completely—”
Tianlang’s words turned into arrows in midair, flying toward Ciyue.
Ciyue deflected them. “I don’t need your preaching…………”
“Hahaha… but have you ever really thought about it? You’ve always been an excellent soldier, but not an excellent magic girl.”
“Because in your heart, you aren’t a girl at all—you’re a weary soldier torn apart by orders from above. You don’t realize it—they never truly cared about you. They only fear your abilities.”
“They want to cage you, this anomaly, and push you with one lie after another to sacrifice yourself.”
Tianlang’s words proved true as a cage dropped down, separating the two.
“Even so, you had no regrets. But starting yesterday, everything changed, right? Some of them feared you exposing their lies, so they turned on you, trying to kill you and deny everything you’ve done.”
A scarlet sunset rose on the horizon. The dreamspace twisted monstrously as numerous terrifying faces fell from the blood-red dome.
One face dropped between them, exploding into shards of barbed wire that seemed alive, burrowing into the sea of indescribable matter.
She was right, but Ciyue still struggled, even as countless hands tried to strangle her.
“Your goal is to recruit me into your ridiculous organization? To persuade me with kind words?” Ciyue said.
“I won’t deny it—that is our purpose.”
“Who are you?”
“An organization fighting for Zhengyi. That’s all I can say.”
“Zhengyi? Is it achieved by killing the innocent?”
“That brings us back to that question. Let’s talk about what justice really is—what you, Xingluo, and Bai Lingyi’s version of Zhengyi actually mean.”
A giant fleshy display rose from the ground, flashing with dazzling static.
The snow-screen vanished as Tianlang pressed the remote, which then turned into an eight-legged spider and crawled away.
Ciyue watched the footage on the screen—it was a surveillance video inside the Saintly Benefit Group Laboratory.
Subtitles read: The twenty-sixth experiment erasing the consciousness of a B-level magic girl.
On screen, a magic girl was bound, her Magic Heart partially extracted and connected by several wires, the ends attached to a Duke-level Beast Core.
“B-level magic girls resisting the corrosion of a Duke-level core is nearly impossible. She will soon lose consciousness and become a vegetable,” Tianlang explained.
The girl in the video began convulsing, foaming at the mouth, then finally fell still.
Her Magic Heart gradually took on the core’s color, but the connections were swiftly severed.
“This way, they get an unconscious body. With slight modifications and artificial chips implanted in the brain, it becomes the century’s greatest war machine—a so-called Anti-Magic Girl attack robot.”
“Laughably, this project is funded by the government, even though the fools who approved it have no idea this money supports Saintly Benefit Group’s inhumane experiments.”
At some point, another black remote appeared in Tianlang’s hand. She pressed it, and the screen changed.
“This is Saintly Benefit Group’s assassination plan targeting magic girls who might threaten them.”
A data sheet appeared, marked top secret. Normally, such documents would be kept hidden, but Tianlang’s organization managed to get their hands on it…
The sheet listed Ciyue and Tianlin, two S-level magic girls, along with hundreds of other A and B-level girls.
“Is this real?”
“These are my memories. Memories don’t lie. The person you worry about most—Luoxi—might share the same fate. Are you scared?”
Ciyue remained silent.
“You fight the beast invasion on the front lines, but behind the scenes, the Saintly Benefit Group and their lackeys have infiltrated all of Huaguo.”
“The justice you hold onto is only helping the oppressors. And what about that ‘necessary sacrifice’—was Bai Lingyi’s death necessary? Have you ever thought about that?”
Bai Lingyi’s enormous face appeared, imprisoned in a cage, floating at the blood-red horizon.
As Ciyue’s heart wavered, a black tsunami hundreds of meters high rose at the dreamscape’s edge, tearing everything in its path into void.
The dream was collapsing.
“Damn it, can’t you pull yourself together? Forget it. Before this dream collapses, I’ll show you everything.”
Tianlang stepped close, cupping Ciyue’s face in both hands. Ciyue didn’t resist as she was pulled near and kissed.
Smack—
A slap landed on the girl’s cheek.
“That’s no good, and neither is that. Having you as a daughter is such a failure!”
The slap came from a pregnant woman whose face was shrouded in darkness due to the weak light in the cramped room.
At a table occupying half the room sat a man, his face hidden behind a newspaper.
On the back of the newspaper were large characters: “Saintly Benefit Group Recruiting More Magic Girls.”
“Didn’t they test her last week? How’d she do? Can she be a magic girl?” the man asked.
“What magic girl qualifications? The Saintly Benefit Group’s testers said she has no talent. They just sent her to ‘discipline’—out of sight, out of mind.”
“No!” the girl shouted, “Don’t send me there!”
The terrifying memories of being sent to that place flashed before her eyes.
“Then behave! Finish the rest of your homework first.”
The girl said miserably, “But I can’t do it… Can you teach me?”
“You idiot. We work hard to raise you so you can study, and you say you can’t do it? Even if you can’t, you’ll write it anyway. I’ll check later. Get one wrong, and you get another slap!”
The girl could only take the homework, writing by the dimming light. The first question already stumped her.
She was behind in school because she had dropped out for most of the semester to work for her parents. Every morning at seven, she pushed a tricycle and helped her father hawk goods on the street.
Afraid of being scolded, she slipped out while her mother bathed and her father slept.
Outside, the moon was full.
The air was no longer stifling, and she felt unburdened.
Looking into the distance, in the faraway industrial zone, lights flowed along overpasses among smokestacks, filling her with longing. How free it would be to join them—to escape this dying land.
At times like this, the older boy next door would come to play with her and help with homework.
He was kind, patient, and after finishing homework, would tell interesting stories.
The girl unconsciously grew fond of him.
But today, he didn’t come.
He had just finished the college entrance exam, and the results two days ago were disappointing, so he enlisted in the military.
Before leaving, he told her he joined to protect her.
She grabbed his shirt, not wanting him to go, but he said it was unavoidable—a matter of fate.
He said a lot she couldn’t remember, only these words: “It’s a necessary sacrifice.”
Time flew by. The TV at home played intermittent news and dull programs.
“Today, we have an economics PhD fresh from studying abroad, here as a special guest on Jing’an City TV….”
“The economy cannot run without everyone’s participation. I encourage every family member to think about society more. The unemployed should consider lower-than-expected jobs.”
“Those with children… Currently, the threat from beasts is declining. Our country is undergoing economic transition.”
“Many businesses relocating from the northeast operate inefficiently and cannot transform easily due to special reasons. My advice is to proceed with… bankruptcy restructuring… personnel optimization… This is a necessary sacri—”
The TV flickered and cut out, breaking down from age.
The man slammed the table in anger. “What kind of nonsense is this? I finally signed a job contract, and it’s gone? ‘Optimization’ my foot—I say they want to kick us out!”
The woman agreed, “Yeah, even the mailbox at the factory gate’s gone. Where do we go to argue?”
The girl had grown into a young woman, her face often troubled, exuding melancholy.
The family grew poorer. The broken lamp was pawned, and soon the TV would be scrapped.
The neighbors had long since moved away. The older boy she once adored never returned, but she planned to forget him.
“Sitong, go carry this broken TV out to the tricycle.”
The girl struggled to lift the TV and walked outside.
Seeing her leave, the man said, “A few days ago, I saw a whole family jump from upstairs. Damn it, we don’t have many good days left.”
The woman was unfazed, pulling a form from a drawer.
“What’s that?” the man asked.
“Someone came by promoting volunteer recruitment—girls aged 18 to 22—for experiments. I don’t know what kind, but they said the experiment could give volunteers the ability to become magic girls, and pay a reward. Sitong should sign up.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Fill it out.”
“How old is Sitong this year?”
The girl silently stood outside, overhearing.
The next day, she was sent to the experimental site, a spacious facility in the city center.
Inside a factory building, a line of female volunteers stretched long.
Though called volunteers, all were desperate and worn, their faces drained of youthful vitality, replaced by lifeless exhaustion.