Chapter 130: The Theory of Psychic Colors

Hearing Manager Qian’s praise, Lin Yu brushed aside the messy bangs in front of her forehead. The corners of her mouth lifted with clear pride.

She had to admit—the thrill of wielding power like this was truly intoxicating. That moment when she blasted the elite monster just now didn’t give her the usual exhaustion. Instead… it felt like chugging a whole bottle of ice-cold cola in one go.

“Heh~”

Even so, when she stepped out of the simulation room, she still tried her best to maintain a calm, composed, “neither proud nor humbled” demeanor.

“Hehehe… Not bad at all. Future S-rank general!” Manager Qian handed her a clean white towel and a bottle of electrolyte drink with a cheerful smile. Her usually stern superior was surprisingly kind today.

Lin Yu accepted the towel and drink with a modest smile, wiping away a bead of sweat that didn’t actually exist.

“Where, where. You flatter me, Manager Qian.” She bowed slightly, speaking with humble politeness: “It’s mainly thanks to the platform the company has provided, plus your continuous guidance. If you hadn’t insisted on giving me this opportunity despite everyone’s objections, I never would’ve been able to discover this potential. Such a tiny achievement—how could I possibly take credit? I merely did… a little bit…”

This smooth combo of polite flattery landed so flawlessly that even the air went silent for a second.

Manager Qian’s mouth slowly fell open as he stared at Lin Yu from head to toe, as if seeing her for the first time. Then he sighed, long and meaningful: “tsk tsk tsk…”

“What?” Lin Yu felt goosebumps from being stared at like that.

“I was just thinking, Xiao Lin…” Manager Qian shook his head with a teasing, playful tone: “Your workplace Tai Chi has gotten really good, huh? Pushing all the credit upward while wiping yourself clean… Who taught you this? We don’t offer that course here.”

“Ahem… It’s just a necessary survival skill in corporate life.” Lin Yu gave an awkward laugh, scratching her cheek. She definitely wasn’t going to admit she learned it from scrolling Douyin.

“Heh… I swear, this stuff is harder to learn than a magical girl’s ultimate move.” Manager Qian put his hands on his hips, shaking his head with a smile. “Alright, enough of those oily corporate tricks in front of me. They really don’t suit you… especially not when you’ve got such a cute face.”

Lin Yu twitched the corner of her mouth, patting her slightly flushed cheeks, deciding to mentally delete that last comment. Hmph. Who’s cute? Can you NOT say things like that?! It’s confusing, okay?!

Filled with complaints, the two walked to the lounge. Lin Yu plopped into a soft bean-bag sofa. Maybe it was the physical strain from the simulation battle…

Or maybe this body had already developed some kind of muscle memory… Because instead of sprawling out like before, she subconsciously kept her legs together, knees leaning slightly to the side. Her feet, in those little loafers, dangled in the air, tapping lightly.

“tap… tap…”

The sound of her heels clicking was exceptionally crisp in the quiet lounge.

Now that the adrenaline had faded, the delicate sensory perception unique to a “magical girl” surged back like a tide.

Lin Yu absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair by her cheek around her finger, while her gaze—no matter how hard she tried—drifted over her newly acquired body.

…The more she looked, the better it looked.

And the better it looked, the more she had to admit it: This “phase-spirit body,” created from high-dimensional energy, was basically a handcrafted masterpiece from god.

Her slender wrists were so pale they were nearly translucent, faint blue veins visible beneath skin like warm jade. Her long fingertips carried a soft, healthy pink that made them look… lickable.

And further down, those thighs wrapped in black over-knee socks—slim, toned, no excess fat, no exaggerated muscles—just pure, youthful curves.

“tch…” Lin Yu clicked her tongue. She looked like someone who couldn’t even open a bottle cap… So how the hell was she capable of that kind of brute force earlier? It made zero scientific sense!

She lifted a hand, palm up, channeling a bit of that still-flowing energy inside.

“Wmm—”

A soft hum sounded as a gentle glow bloomed in her palm. It wasn’t hot like fire. It wasn’t sharp like lightning. Instead… it felt like strawberry-flavored marshmallow.

Pink.

And not just any pink. The purest, softest, sparkliest magical-girl pink, complete with tiny shimmer effects.

Lin Yu stared at the obedient glowing orb bouncing lightly between her fingers—her feet suddenly stopped dangling. She raised an eyebrow and leaned closer, mismatched eyes filled with confusion.

“Manager Qian.”

“Hm? What’s wrong? Confused about the simulation data?”

“It’s not the data…” She hesitated, voice tangled with embarrassment: “I’m wondering… why my energy color just had to be this… pink?”

“Pink is bad why?” Manager Qian lifted a brow. “It’s cute. Fits the magical-girl stereotype perfectly.”

“But… it’s too girly!” Lin Yu finally burst out, full of masculine grief: “Look, yeah, our uniforms are kinda… like that… but not everyone’s abilities are this pink, right?! I’ve seen the seniors. None of them are this pink!”

“Oh?” Manager Qian set aside his mocha, leaning forward with interest. “You’re pretty observant. Indeed—energy color isn’t random.”

He raised a finger and tapped the glow in her palm.

“In energy psychology, color is the projection of the heart.”

“Magical girls draw power from the heart. Each person’s personality, experiences, subconscious desires—they refract color from otherwise colorless energy.”

He opened his terminal and swiped, pulling up a few familiar profiles.

First: Chen Bing, stern-faced, holding a giant shield.

“Look at Chen Bing.” Manager Qian pointed. “Her energy is thick gray-ink, almost metallic. It stems from her extreme rationality and rigidity. It’s the color of order and steel—unyielding will, repressed emotion.”

Swipe.

Next was Night Wildfire (Ye Ye Ying), standing atop a high place, black skirt rustling.

“And her.” Manager Qian spoke softer. “Her color is deep ocean blue. The color of the sea—and loneliness. She’s isolated, hiding many secrets. Like an untouched abyss—dangerous and alluring.”

Lin Yu nodded. Made sense. Chen Bing was basically a rock. Night Wildfire was indeed a bottle of unopened emotional soda.

Swipe.

A twin-tailed sniper—Li Qing.

“As for Li Qing…” Manager Qian chuckled. “She’s bright pink. Standard magical-girl core color. Full of spirit, full of shounen-anime dreams about ‘effort, friendship, victory.’ Pure youthful energy—so of course she’s pink.”

Yep. That tracked. Li Qing was basically a walking “justice partner” character.

“So you see—energy colors never lie.” Manager Qian concluded, turning to Lin Yu with an unreadable look.

Lin Yu blinked. “…What?”

“Well then, here’s the real question, Xiao Lin.” He stroked his chin, eyes moving between Lin Yu’s awkward expression and that bubblegum-pink glow in her hand.

“According to all this—”

“You, Lin Yu. A nearly 30-year-old straight man.”

“Your inner self should logically be… life-beaten gray. Or the salted-fish yellow of someone ready to lie down and rot.”

“So why…” Manager Qian paused, voice turning downright bizarre: “…why is your energy the youngest, brightest, sparkliest—even more vivid than Li Qing’s—and complete with little heart-shaped sparkle effects——‘magical-girl pink’?”