Chapter 39

Chapter 39

How vast is this universe?

No one truly knows the answer, for the spiral arms of dimensions stretch into immeasurable distances. Yet, all intelligent species share the common understanding that the universe comprises nine star domains and eighty-eight star systems. Three of these domains belong entirely to the Empire, one to an independent kingdom, and two to the Alliance. One domain is inhabited by non-human species, and another is known as the Divine Realm—home to the universe’s sole six-star alchemist. The entrance to the Divine Realm has long been veiled by intricate alchemy, rendering it undiscoverable by ordinary beings.

The last remaining star domain, once part of the Empire, declared independence during the great rebellion eight centuries ago. Over long years of ceaseless conflict and conflicting humanitarian ideologies, it fractured completely. Today, this entire domain suffers from economic backwardness and political instability.

Alice, the protagonist of the original novel, was born in this very domain. Her family circumstances weren’t the worst, but as part of a blended family, Alice’s plight was infinitely more tragic than Eve’s. Her biological father was an alcoholic, verbally and physically abusive, while her stepmother deliberately mistreated her. Due to her striking beauty, they even attempted to marry her off to the wealthy but cruel son of a merchant.

At fifteen, through meticulous planning, Alice successfully escaped her suffocating home. She boarded a cargo ship and arrived at Planet 123 in the neighboring Carol star system.

Though not far, the Carol star system was under Imperial jurisdiction. Even as a notorious black market planet, it felt like a heavenly sanctuary to Alice. Like a bird fearlessly landing on an unknown island, she embarked on her journey here, eventually rising to become the Empire’s legendary first commander.

But I digress.

The journey was so tedious that Eve could only pass the time by recalling these plot details.

The Cardew family enforced military-grade discipline even on their supply ships. Eve roamed the vessel but couldn’t spot a single dozing crew member; once work began, they didn’t even exchange a word.

Eventually, Eve resigned herself to staring blankly out the viewport. The ship entered jump mode, and outside, it was pitch black, devoid of light, making it impossible to gauge the time. Having left in a rush during the field project, she hadn’t even brought her personal terminal—not that it would have mattered. The black hole passage contained no transmissible particles, making it one of the few places where even alchemical devices couldn’t send signals.

Fortunately, after three jumps, the outline of their destination became visible.

Carol 123 was one of the Carol star system’s most prominent large planets, appearing from space as a completely black, steel fortress-world.

As soon as the ship’s hatch opened, Eve eagerly stepped out, her cloak swirling around her.

She didn’t immediately use any alchemical devices to contact her companions on the capital planet. Counting the days, those who had participated in the practical project should have returned home by now. It was likely a chaotic time, so it was best not to alert anyone prematurely.

She exited the port and headed directly to the customs hall to complete her procedures.

Entry to any planet under Imperial jurisdiction required identity registration. Eve was currently undocumented, but that hardly mattered—rules on these remote black stars were largely nominal.

Eve temporarily used *Mirage* to create a new appearance, not drastically different from her original. She only changed her hair and eye color to black, leaving her facial features and height largely untouched. This way, she could simply visit a salon to dye her hair and buy colored contacts, seamlessly maintaining her disguise later.

*Mirage* was inconvenient to recharge, requiring expensive energy stones. Money was hard to come by, so it was best to use such costly items sparingly.

After her adjustments, Eve looked in the customs bathroom mirror and was surprised to find that, with her somewhat unnatural silver hair and blue eyes replaced, her face bore a resemblance to her appearance before transmigrating.

However, the similarity was only about fifty to sixty percent. While the facial structure was somewhat alike, the features of her current body were far more refined, elevating her beauty by several levels.

Eve curiously examined her new look a few more times before pulling up her hood and stepping back out.

The customs inspection was incredibly lax. They didn’t even check for dangerous items—all that was required was scanning one’s ID card on a machine and recording permission information on the card to avoid being shot as a stowaway by the omnipresent patrol drones outside.

A staff member in a dark blue uniform extended his hand toward Eve, his eyes half-lidded and voice devoid of emotion: “ID card.”

“I lost my ID card on the way, due to an accident,” Eve blinked and asked, “Brother, do you know where I can get a new one here?”

The worker lifted his eyelids to scrutinize Eve, seemingly assessing whether this person, shrouded in a cloak, was worthy of entering the black star. Honestly, their black star didn’t open its doors to just any riff-raff, especially since her excuse was one of the top three most common and worn-out lies used by stowaways.

However, her voice sounded like that of a young girl, with a refined air that suggested a stable upbringing. He glanced at the material of her cloak—thick, dense, and smooth.

“You need to go to the Security Office to get an ID card, but without identification, you definitely can’t go there. I can process a temporary one for you here through a special channel. Later, you can go to the Security Office and pay fifty credits to get a full one.”

He raised two fingers and said slowly, “But, doing it temporarily at customs will cost a bit more.”

How was she supposed to know how expensive it was with just two fingers raised?

Eve tentatively asked, “Two thousand?”

“Twenty thousand. Final offer.”

“…” This was highway robbery!

Eve scowled and took out her unregistered credit chip to pay. Money makes the world go round—after forking over twenty grand, everything else went smoothly.

The worker switched to another machine for registration and asked, “Name? Age?”

“Lu Qing,” Eve didn’t dare use her current name and instead gave her previous life’s name. As for age, she certainly couldn’t fill in her actual minor status. She lied without blinking, “20 years old.”

“…”

The average lifespan in the interstellar era was 150 years, and legal adulthood began at 18, though the body barely met the baseline adult standards. Besides, Eve’s actual age wasn’t even 18 yet.

The worker gave her clearly underage figure a knowing look but, with professional restraint, entered the obviously fake information.

After a few operations, a temporary ID card was freshly issued, and Eve was smoothly admitted into Carol 123.

Standing at the customs exit, Eve touched her stored-value card containing all her savings, and a somewhat horrifying thought crossed her mind.

Burning through five figures in just twenty minutes—would her stored money really be enough?

…Why did it feel like she’d probably have to keep working after all?

Sighing heavily, Eve bought a black umbrella from a vending machine at the exit. The quality wasn’t great, but it was large when opened and usable enough.

The Luna Butterfly had long since returned to her mental sea to rest. Alone, she held the large black umbrella and stepped into the slanting wind and drizzle just beyond the customs hall.

Carol 123 was a standard cyberpunk city. Unlike the privileged and open capital planet, this planet—a melting pot of hustlers and lowlifes, lacking effective governance—had extremely pronounced class disparities.

Looking up from the dilapidated apartment buildings and shantytowns where the poor lived, one could see tall, cold black alloy skyscrapers in the distance. Garish neon lights swept down seductively from the rooftops. The sky tracks carried a scarce number of sleek hover cars, while the ground traffic was locked in gridlock. The gloomy weather seemed perpetually overcast, with a steady drizzle of acid rain falling to the ground, only to be splashed into filthy water by passing tires, provoking curses from pedestrians.

After just two steps, the hem of Eve’s cloak was soaked and filthy beyond recognition. She looked down at the clean slice on her robe’s edge, stunned.

She considered herself fairly capable—who could have possibly cut away a large piece of her cloak fabric without her noticing?

Eve almost barked a laugh, taking it as her first harsh lesson about black stars. In a way, this place was indeed a den of hidden masters.

When you have money, there’s no need to endure the hardships of being penniless. She simply closed her umbrella and went straight into the nearest electronics store, picked out a stylish personal terminal, activated it, inserted her temporary ID card, and then began—hailing a ride, and a hover car at that.

Half an hour later, Eve found a high-end image salon, dyed her hair, bought colored contacts, and finally allowed *Mirage* to power down.

An hour later, she arrived at the Security Office and, by paying extra for express processing, obtained her new ID card.

Two hours later, she booked a week’s stay in a premium room at a hotel in the central district and asked the front desk about the best spots to grab a bite and unwind in the city.

Having traveled so far, of course she needed to relax first. Even the hardest-working mule deserves a carrot.

“For good food, just head to the expensive restaurants—they won’t be too bad, and they’re safer. Those cheap places are mixed bags, and a young, innocent kid like you would be eaten alive,” the front desk clerk said.

She was a talkative young girl with a cookie-cutter beauty, suggesting she’d undergone a little surgical help. “But as for fun places…”

She looked Eve up and down. With her hood down, Eve appeared elegant and calm, seeming mature for her age, but it was obvious she’d grown up in a gilded upbringing. The clerk smiled ambiguously, covering her mouth, “Hey, our black star has plenty of fun—pretty synths, all sorts of stimulating drugs, and the latest gadgets that haven’t even hit the market on other planets yet. But you look like you’re still underage, dear. Good kids shouldn’t go to those places.”

The front desk clerk spoke with lively expressions, displaying a street-smart edge absent from the capital. She teased with perfect balance, being enthusiastic without provoking dislike, much like a cunning animal with smooth fur.

Eve liked this raw vitality—it made her feel she had truly left the capital planet and the control of its people. So, when she left, she gladly tipped her 200 credits as a token of appreciation.

"Thank you, valued guest." The front desk clerk giggled and blew her a kiss. "Want to swap contacts? If you have any questions, be sure to ask me first—no scams, I promise."

The proposal sounded good; it would also help fill up her barren friends list. So Eve nodded in agreement and exchanged contact details with the front desk clerk, whose name was Mary.

A highly-rated bar on the rating app wasn’t far from here, so there was no need to take another cab. The road conditions in the central district were much better than in the outer slums—the city area was relatively tidy and clean, and the acid rain was blocked by energy barriers, leaving only the overcast sky. So Eve decided to walk.

The bar wouldn’t open for a while yet. Taking advantage of this time, Eve first ordered several sets of new clothes online, then returned to her room to take a shower. After soaking in hot water, every cell in her body tingled with relaxation, her fatigue vanished, and the damp, rainy chill seeped out of her bones.

Just then, the clothes she’d ordered earlier arrived. Eve picked out a black T-shirt that was easy to move in and a pair of camo cargo pants, pulled on some combat boots, and stood in front of the mirror to check herself out. After a moment, she took a pair of scissors and cut her waist-length hair to just past her shoulders. She removed the oversized bow hair tie and replaced it with a simple black hair tie that came free in every hotel room. Instantly, her whole look was refreshed—sleek and tough.

She had long been somewhat fed up with the Medici family’s style, where everything from objects to people was excessively refined, with a rather old-school, fussy vibe that paid no mind to practicality.

Now, having returned to her everyday look from before she transmigrated, she felt clear-minded and rejuvenated, along with a guilty thrill, like a kid sneaking junk food behind the adults’ backs.

"This looks about right," she murmured.

Smirking at her reflection in the mirror, Eve headed out satisfied to find food.

The bar had a nice atmosphere—it was a chill bar on the 35th floor of the neighboring building. Inside, the decor was mainly brown and dark blue, with dim, trippy lighting. By the window, you could look down and enjoy the city’s night view. The air was filled with the rich aroma of alcohol, and the music playing had a distinct jazz style.

It had just opened, and it wasn’t even time for its main customers—the white-collar workers from nearby companies—to get off work yet, so the bar was pretty dead. Eve directly claimed a four-person table for herself and quickly ordered a spread based on online reviews.

It felt great to order without even looking at the prices.

Eve had already been so discouraged by prices on Black Star that she’d given up on saving money. Instead of cutting back, it was better to earn more—after all, this kind of spending could be covered by a single black market job. So she couldn’t be bothered to check her balance.

No wonder mercenaries preferred to spend what they earned the same day. There was no point in saving when it was so hard to accumulate; might as well live in the moment.

But speaking of the black market, on a major Black Star like Carol 123, it had brick-and-mortar locations. This meant Eve might be able to try some on-the-ground missions.

Come to think of it, if she were to take on offline missions, should she try to join a team? Eve pondered.

While she was considering, the server had already brought the food she’d ordered earlier. There weren’t many customers in the shop, so the service was quick.

The order included a perfectly grilled monster steak drizzled with hot cream—she didn’t know what kind of beast it was, but it was tender, juicy, and bursting with meaty flavor, somewhat like lamb chops, garnished with some blue plant. There was a dreamy purple cocktail, low in alcohol and tasting sweet, along with smooth milk pudding and fresh, melt-in-your-mouth fruit.

While taking a couple bites of her dinner, Eve logged into her black market account.

She’d come a long way; she was no longer the newbie who had to scrape for low-level missions when she first entered the black market.

Alchemists were rare gems to begin with, and since Eve was diligent in both taking missions and running her stall, in just over a month, her completed mission count had reached three digits with a 100% completion rate. She leveled up quickly, aced her online cert for Three-Star Alchemist, and now she generally only took missions starting from C-rank.

She browsed the recruitment section a couple times but didn’t find a suitable team, so she directly posted an LFG post.

"Cash money needed: Looking for a team short-term, currently on Carol 123. Prefer to team up locally. Hope for an experienced team. I can fight and provide potions. Won’t handle anything outside missions. Require freedom to leave the team and choose whether to participate in missions. Pay negotiable. Hit me up if interested."

It was evening, and quite a few mercs were idle. Seeing such a bold post, a crowd quickly gathered in the comments to watch the fun.

"Kid, you’re pretty arrogant: First glance at the conditions—thinking, OP, you’re pretty arrogant, let’s see who’d want you. Second glance, clicking into OP’s profile—Three-Star Alchemist. Sorry, my bad."

"Aaa Street Alchemist Wang Jie: So even Three-Star heavy hitters can’t find a team? Passing by, pulling up a chair."

"Grey Eagle: Grabbing popcorn +1. Anyway, our team definitely can’t afford you, just here for the show."

"Blue Ocean Heart: Why in the Carol star system? TT We’re short on alchemists, but distance probably doesn’t meet requirements. Heading back next month. If OP wants to switch, consider us."

"Kid, you’re pretty arrogant: Damn, that Blue Ocean guy above… seems to be from Cold Star, which ranks in the top ten teams? Bowin’ down to the big shot, let me take a photo with you."

"Atmosphere: Oh? Then I want a photo with the big shot too."

"Grey Eagle: Me too, photo +1."

......

After that member from the top-ten team showed up, the thread gradually went off-topic, with everyone afterward hearing about Cold Star’s presence and coming to take commemorative photos.

A couple teams also slid into her DMs, willing to recruit her, but these teams were only mid-tier and were all just interested in the alchemist title. Eve politely declined all of them.

Those teams probably thought an alchemist who had to post to promote herself was likely bottom-tier among her peers, so they wanted to try their luck at a bargain.

But Eve knew her own worth very well. Alchemists weren’t a dime a dozen; generally, only mid-level crews and up could afford a resident alchemist. Three-Star Alchemists were notable figures in the alchemist hierarchy, considered the core of the alchemist community. Above them were the Four-Star Alchemists who held important positions in various alchemist association branches.

Besides, she could both serve as an alchemist and fight—and fight well at that. By any measure, she was worth a high-level team.

Due to her unstable attendance, Eve wasn’t sure if all high-level teams would be willing to take her on, but since someone from a top-ten team had appeared in her thread, it shouldn’t be that no high-level team was interested in her, right?

She could compromise on pay due to her unstable attendance, but she wouldn’t compromise on team rank. Eve didn’t want to waste time and effort on ordinary missions; the ROI was trash. She was looking for a team precisely to take on A-rank and B-rank missions.

Only high-level missions could earn big money and be challenging enough. Opportunities to gain experience while out and about were rare, and Eve wanted to seize every chance to improve herself.

After waiting a bit and not receiving any suitable invitations yet, Eve wasn’t worried. These things definitely required team discussion. It was only her first day on Black Star, and she wasn’t prepared to start a new job so quickly anyway.

She turned off her terminal and focused on enjoying the food in front of her.

Compared to the Medici family’s cafeteria, this meal on Black Star was clearly cooked in a less healthy way, but it was a flavor she’d never tasted before. Eve took a bite of the milk pudding, and her eyes lit up. It was cool and smooth, topped with fruit sauce—so delicious she felt like she could eat her own tongue.

She took a sip of the cocktail; though it had alcohol, it was well-blended with concentrated fruit juice, not spicy at all.

Eve finished the meal quite satisfied. It was expensive, but worth every penny. She even ordered an extra serving of milk pudding to take back to the hotel as a late-night snack.

The night was long, and she had plenty of time. She planned to explore the nearby streets, then check out the Alchemist Association and the black market’s offline location. It would be convenient to know where they were for future reference.

To be honest, she was also a bit curious about those places the front desk’s Mary had mentioned—the ones "good kids shouldn’t go to."

Her ID said she was an adult, and her soul was an adult too—how could that count as a kid?

Eve: Righteously stepping toward the entertainment district.

The server brought the carefully packed milk pudding to her table, and Eve picked it up and left.

The nearest place was the Alchemist Association. She turned on the navigation app on her terminal and walked there at a leisurely pace.

Black Star was completely Gotham on steroids, fully living up to its reputation as a den of sin. Even the central district was only slightly better than the slums—in reality, it was still a chaotic zone where conflicts could erupt anytime, anywhere.

Along the way, Eve lost count of how many people she saw brawling, even gunfights. One person was laughing maniacally while firing a gun, only for a passerby in black to summon a man-eating flower spiritual entity that swallowed him whole.

Eve, who witnessed it all: "..."

What the hell? She had no idea how Black Star could still function with public security like this. She found it utterly bewildering—did the people here think they were living in some intense online game every day?

But then she remembered that the female lead actually was in her element in this place. Although that was mainly due to her terrible original family—after all, happiness often comes from comparison—Eve still deeply admired the female lead’s adaptability.

Especially growing up in a place like this, yet the female lead’s nature remained tough but kind-hearted, like pure white jasmine growing out of black mud—it was truly remarkable.

Night gradually fell. Eve took a shortcut, turning into a semi-underground alley. The light bulbs on the roadside flickered on and off, as if the circuit was faulty. She sighed inwardly, missing the clean, advanced avenues of the capital star for what felt like the umpteenth time, when she saw a drunk man walking toward her.

The man reeked of alcohol, a yellow leather jacket hanging loosely over his shoulders. He had dark circles under his eyes and a stubbly beard. Though he swayed as he walked, his build looked sturdy. His smile was unpleasant, and just being stared at by him felt invasive.

Eve watched without surprise as he wobbled deliberately to stand in front of her, ogling her with a sleazy grin, and reached out to her with a creepy smile, hitting on her: "Little girl, alone at night, no one to keep you company? How about coming with me..."

—A common drunkard, often lurking at night to randomly harass girls. In the world before she transmigrated, this was a very dangerous and hard-to-guard-against creature, she thought.

Eve had experienced this in her previous life as well, on a cold night when she had to work overtime until late. Hugging her briefcase, she walked home cautiously. It was then that a man reeking of alcohol suddenly appeared before her, emerging from the inky blackness of night with a terrifying grin that made her heart tremble, like an evil spirit blocking the path of a woman walking alone at night.

Fortunately, she was lucky that day. Before she could even respond, a police officer also getting off night shift happened to pass by. Sensing something amiss, the officer approached and presented her police badge. The man, as if suddenly sobered up, gave a dry, awkward laugh and scampered away shamefacedly.

However, she was now in the world after transmigrating into the story, and this was a world where strength was respected above all.

Eve avoided the drunkard’s hand and said calmly, "No thanks, mister."

An ending that never occurred in her memories was unfolding now—

The drunkard became enraged, raising his hand to slap her while cursing vulgarly, "You ungrateful little..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Eve, who had already charged her spiritual power, threw the first punch. A heavy blow landed on his face faster than the eye could see, followed by a loud "thump!" The drunkard was sent flying backward, crashing into the wall before sliding down limply.

If his head hadn’t been reinforced with alloy, Eve was certain she would have shattered his face bones.

In truth, the drunkard from her memory wasn’t as strong as the one tonight. She vaguely recalled him being a middle-aged man, his face etched with the resentment of long-term frustration and the outward toughness of someone lost in alcoholism—all masked by the hazy darkness of that fearful night.

Eve wiped her hand on her clothes after throwing the punch, then hopped lightly over the drunkard, who was lying on the ground unable to get up, his face filled with terror—as if stepping over an unpleasant memory.

"I thought it was basic knowledge that the most dangerous people in a place like this are those who seem harmless, like women and children. But it seems you were missing that common sense, old man," her voice, tinged with amusement, faded into the distance. "Then again, people with common sense wouldn’t try to drag passing young girls off for drinks."

She waved casually behind her and said coldly, "Count yourself lucky today because I haven’t learned to kill yet. But if you harass another woman on the street, you won’t be so fortunate next time. After all, not everyone is as kind-hearted as I am..."

A thin blade flew toward the drunkard’s private parts, and a faint, foul odor filled the air as he let out a piercing shriek like a slaughtered pig.

"—But just to be safe, I’ll confiscate your 'means of crime' for now."

Violence was indeed thrilling—Eve had to admit that. In the moments she threw the punch and flung the blade, she felt a sense of relief and joy.

As long as she was strong enough, she could freely determine others’ fates. Whether it was the drunkard who had just offended her or some future passerby who might displease her, she could punish them as she pleased.

But Eve had no intention of indulging herself in such violence.

The decadent Planet of Sin amplified all fixations on violence, desire, and lust to the extreme. Indulgence was easy, but staying clear-headed was difficult.

If one lived in such a place forever, adhering to this law of the jungle might be understandable. But she was merely a traveler here, and thus, she needed to exercise even more self-restraint than others.

Unless absolutely necessary, she would not cross the line into killing. This was the boundary Eve set for herself.

......

But one should never jinx it. To Eve’s surprise, just around the corner, she ended up in a situation where she had no choice but to kill.

A group of people were brawling at the end of the alley—a common sight, given how many fights she’d passed along the way. But this particular group was unusually intense.

Black Star’s only rule regarding city fights was that mechs were forbidden. However, things like Spiritual States or small thermal weapons such as guns were completely not restricted. So even before getting close, Eve saw a bright flash explode, followed by the dark green tail of a python sweeping past the alley’s entrance.

She quickly realized: someone was engaged in a firefight.

And they were skilled—both the sparks and the python were at least B-level in strength.

Remembering that curiosity killed the cat, Eve immediately summoned her Luna Butterfly, concealed her form, and turned to leave quietly.

But she hadn’t expected someone to be faster than her at fleeing. A gray figure darted into the alley, agile as a wild cat on the rooftops, kicking off the walls nimbly as it tried to escape deeper inside. As it passed Eve, it exclaimed, "Huh? There’s actually someone here?"

The figure paused in its flight and kindly warned, "The people outside are from the most notorious human trafficking ring on this planet—the Viper Fangs. They’re savage. You should run too."

"Oh, thanks for the warning," Eve replied instinctively, but soon shifted to astonishment. She was certain her Luna Butterfly was still active. "Wait, how can you see me?"

"Huh? Aren’t you just standing right there?"

The girl tilted her head in confusion. She had smooth brown hair and clear, golden, honey-like eyes, with delicate, refined features that made it easy for people to feel warmly toward her. Even Eve felt an urge to explain herself when she saw the girl’s confused expression.

No! Eve suddenly came to her senses. Why would she want to explain her Spiritual State to a stranger?

She had just warned others about the danger of seemingly harmless people, and now she had almost fallen for it herself. Eve’s vigilance instantly skyrocketed to its peak!

Before she could retreat, a rough shout came from the alley entrance—likely members of the Viper Fangs giving chase: "Hey, she’s here, that little brat!"

"Kill her!"

"But the Young Master said we can’t kill her unless absolutely necessary."

The initially aggressive voice snarled, "Bullshit! She let loose a whole ship of our cargo. Is the Young Master foolish, or are you? Besides, we can just make up a story later and say we had no choice."

"...Fine," someone replied slowly.

In the blink of an eye, a dark green python Spiritual State shot forward like an arrow, aimed directly at the brown-haired girl. Eve, who was standing close, barely dodged the attack by stepping back twice, but the milk pudding she had been carrying in her left hand wasn’t so lucky—it was struck and fell to the ground.

"Plop."

A milky-white, unidentifiable substance slowly spread across the ground.

In that instant, the howling wind, the girl’s panting, the debauched sounds from the entertainment district nearby, the bustling activity outside the alley, the shouts of the Viper Fangs members—everything fell silent. The world seemed to have been muted, and even the python Spiritual State froze.

Only the "plop" and the sight of the shattered milk pudding heart captured everyone’s attention.

The slow-speaking Viper Fangs member exclaimed in surprise, "Oh? Looks like there’s an invisible person here too."

"Find her and kill her along with the other one."

Eve: "......"

She stared fixedly at the girl who had essentially dragged her into this.

The brown-haired girl, crouching on the low wall, finally understood: the other girl had the ability to turn invisible, which was why she hadn’t been in a hurry to leave. Her earlier "warning" had only caused trouble.

She scratched her nose apologetically and whispered, "Sorry for getting you involved. How about this: I’ll hold them off, and you take the chance to run."

"No, I want a different condition."

Eve let out a cold, sinister laugh. "You said they’re human traffickers, right? I’ll help you kill them, and then you come back with me and buy me another milk pudding to make up for it."

"Huh??"

The brown-haired girl was taken aback that the black-haired girl had refused her offer to escape and was instead offering to help. But before she could process it, Eve turned around, flicked her wrist, and drew a slender, sharp lightsaber from her waist.

A silver moon illusion rose behind her as she pushed off the ground with her toes, charging forward at a speed impossible to track with the naked eye. The lightsaber swung high, tracing a cold, moonlit arc. The Viper Fangs members seemed completely unaware, except for their tall, bearded leader, who sensed an impending danger in the air. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he shouted, "Wait! Be careful, behi—"

Before he could finish, an invisible blade sliced down as effortlessly as cutting through tofu. Blood burst forth like a shattered water bottle, and a round head soared into the air before thudding heavily to the ground.

The thick, dark-green, flat-headed python also let out a mournful cry before dissolving into points of light and vanishing into the air.

The remaining members had no idea what had just happened, their pupils contracting in unison.

Ten steps to kill one man, a thousand miles without leaving a trace.

"There’s... an expert," the others stammered, their legs trembling as they screamed and fled madly toward the exit. "Go back and get help! Run!"

But the alley twisted and turned like a sheep’s intestine—where could they possibly run?

The burial site chosen for others ultimately became her own grave.

The brown-haired girl stayed pretty calm. Though she hadn't expected Eve to act so decisively, she was quick on the uptake and shouted, "Senior, I'll help you!" Drawing an alloy dagger, she jumped in, stabbing one person from behind. By the time she turned around, the other two had already lost their heads, their heads rolling from the east to the west end of the alley, their hair still quivering.

"One got away."

Eve stared off into the distance with a hint of surprise, having completely missed the moment someone escaped.

This was a little tricky.

So, it’s true—don’t jinx yourself, or you’ll really face retribution.

Eve flicked the blood off her lightsaber and pulled back her spiritual power. The once-ferocious long sword shrank back into a forearm-length cylindrical form. She’d bought it on impulse at a weapon shop after dyeing her hair, just for self-defense.

Man, Black Star is something else—even regulated weapons are boldly displayed on counters for sale.

She casually slipped the lightsaber back into her waist and strode toward the brunette. "Hey, what’s your name... Wait, what are you doing?"

Her words trailed off as she was startled by the girl suddenly dropping to her knees.

The brown-haired girl lay face down, speaking respectfully, "Greetings, Senior. My name is Alice. I don’t have a last name since I ran away from home—it’s not that I’m intentionally withholding it. I can tell you’re not a bad person; you only killed those people because you heard me say they were traffickers. I deeply apologize for involving you tonight and hope you’ll be big-hearted and not hold it against me. As for the spilled custard, I can go buy another one with you right now—I really didn’t mean to drag you into this, so could you please let me go?"

"......" Now that's a reaction. Talk about being perceptive.

Eve scanned her brown hair, racking her brain to remember what she’d just said her name was.

Alice—oh, she said her name was Alice.

What did the heroine in the original novel look like again?

Warm brown long hair, brilliant golden eyes, purer than a fawn, kinder than an angel, clever and hardworking, like a white flower blooming in the mud.

Forget the other descriptions, but this hair color, these eye colors—they seemed to match a little too well with the person prostrating before her.

—Wait, in this situation, was the heroine kneeling to her, the villainess?

The future plot hit her like a bullet between the eyes. Eve’s legs went weak, and she nearly felt like dropping to her knees right then and there to bow right back to Alice. They might as well kneel facing each other, swap a blood oath, and become sisters.

Using what little rationality she had left, she barely restrained herself from kneeling and instead reached out with trembling hands to help Alice up, uttering stiffly, "Wait, dear, get up first. Uh, I’m not holding it against you, really, it’s fine. I know it wasn’t your fault."

Alice looked up, blinking, looking genuinely touched. "Senior..."

"Don’t call me senior," Eve felt her knees threatening to buckle again. She forced a smile. "My name is... Lu Qing. We’re about the same age. Just call me Lu Qing."

"Okay, Senior Lu Qing."

Eve: "..."

This kid was pretty sharp earlier—why did she go all robot on me?

She gave up dwelling on that and moved on to something else she cared more about. "Alright, Alice, can I ask you a question?"

"What is it? Please go ahead, Senior Lu Qing."

Eve raised an eyebrow, leaning in to scrutinize her, real curiosity shining in her eyes. "Well, just now, I used my Spiritual State, and its ability is concealment."

"But—how could you see me?"