Chapter 59: The Crucial Badges and Lingering Premonitions

Su Qingyao reined in her runaway thoughts, refocusing on the more pressing matters at hand.

In fact, near Xu Yanqing’s position, at the front of the assembly queue, a silver trolley laden with a large tray stood silently behind her.

One might have even unconsciously overlooked its presence if not paying close attention.

However, Xu Yanqing’s very first words after completing the roll call were about this item.

“Everyone, please look,” she announced. “This is what each of you will receive during today’s training.”

As she spoke, Xu Yanqing reached back and plucked a small object from the trolley.

Su Qingyao rose onto her tiptoes, peering at the tray on the trolley. It was densely packed with identical items.

To be precise, they appeared to be ‘badges’.

Su Qingyao paused, recalling its origins and purpose in her mind.

“For every single one of you, this will be your most crucial item today—”

“The kind that concerns your very lives.”

This explanation, naturally, had come from Xu Yanqing.

Su Qingyao, with a hint of helplessness, simply nodded in affirmation to Su Muxue, who had turned to look at her.

‘Regardless, it’s probably best to keep it on.’

Xu Yanqing picked up a badge and gestured for everyone to gather closer.

Only after Su Qingyao found herself a partial ‘window’ behind the throng of people did Xu Yanqing resume speaking.

“These badges are distributed by the Tower,” she explained. “They serve as tools for positioning and emergency contact.”

Within the entirely silver-grey metal plate, countless magic circuits and electrical pathways were etched. On its surface, a single blue crystal pulsed with a soft, breathing glow.

“It requires only an extremely faint amount of magical energy—in most cases, even the ambient magical concentration in the air is enough to power it, allowing it to send signals to repeaters and within the Tower.”

Xu Yanqing, at that moment, wore a dark ink-colored badge pinned to her chest. Compared to the unpainted ones, hers appeared significantly more profound.

Su Qingyao recalled seeing similar items on the patrolling magical girls who had arrived at the scene earlier, when she was with Xiaohua.

Comparing them to her memories, Su Qingyao confirmed that while their overall appearance was similar, there were distinct differences in the details.

‘It seems,’ she mused.

Su Qingyao glanced down at the badge in her hand. The badge she had received, though a repeater type, was also unpainted.

It appeared these were specifically for temporary use.

“The cost of producing one of these badges is considerable,” Xu Yanqing stated, tapping it. “Therefore, please ensure you take good care of them.”

As the woman’s words faded, a faint halo of light shimmered on her ink-colored badge.

Then, a faint, curved ribbon of light emerged from her badge, pointing directly towards the badge in Xu Yanqing’s hand.

“Oh—”

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

Xu Yanqing remained expressionless, shifting the orientation of the badge in her hand, and the light ribbon naturally followed suit.

“This function is bidirectional.”

Xu Yanqing tapped her own badge again, causing the light ribbon to vanish.

“However, aside from the repeater badges of the three team leaders, your badges require separate ‘permission’ to track each other.”

“You can explore this particular function on your own.”

“Now, for the next function.”

“If you are unsure of being able to quickly rendezvous with others, or if you are forced to relocate, you can then utilize the second function.”

Xu Yanqing unpinned her badge and cast a simple spell into it. “Test, test,” she murmured.

For the single second the spell lasted, the breathing light abruptly extinguished.

When Xu Yanqing then touched it with a contact point on the other side, her voice from moments ago emanated from the badge, albeit somewhat distorted.

Guidance, recording, and then, as Xu Yanqing demonstrated in similar fashion, features like waypoints, instant playback, and indicator lights.

Functionally, this badge couldn’t replace a communication device. What it offered instead, however, was unparalleled ‘stability’ and extremely low energy consumption.

The natural magical energy dissipated by a magical girl in her transformed state was almost enough to power the badge’s operation.

“Quite well done,” Su Qingyao remarked.

Su Qingyao gently rubbed the badge with her fingertips before pinning it to her chest.

By the time this ‘repeater’ badge was distributed to the girls, it was nearly lunchtime.

There was only enough time remaining to verify that no ‘backdoor’ programs existed, preventing any baseless conspiracy theories from coming true.

After that, Su Qingyao was swamped, following the arrangements laid out in the plan.

While Su Qingyao was pinning her badge, Xu Yiyi had already carried a tray around, distributing badges to every magical girl.

This included Jiang Jiuli, who clutched her phantom-pain-ridden arm with a pained expression; thankfully, Su Muxue helped her pin it on.

Standing at the back of the queue, Su Qingyao couldn’t discern the children’s exact expressions, only vaguely inferring their feelings from their movements.

However, amidst the chattering voices, Su Qingyao couldn’t detect any overt signs of nervousness.

Su Qingyao poked her badge, causing the guiding light ribbon to point towards Su Muxue, who had just turned around.

Even amidst the vibrant cluster of youthful girls, the little white cat remained a strikingly conspicuous presence.

Or rather, that was how she appeared in Su Qingyao’s eyes.

‘Hm-hm-hm-hm.’

The girl hummed a melody with ease.

A tune once born from a certain magical girl’s exclusive magic now served as Su Qingyao’s impromptu lingering melody.

“So, Mama won’t lose me this way, will she?” Su Muxue asked, seeing the light ribbon on Su Qingyao’s chest and smiling brightly as she spoke.

“Mm-hmm,” Su Qingyao affirmed, stepping forward to gently ruffle her small head. “Even without something like this, I would never lose you.”

“I promise.”

****

Inhale, exhale.

Her chest rose, then slowly relaxed.

‘Xu Yanqing, Xu Yanqing,’ she thought. ‘You remember what you need to do, don’t you?’

I struggled to keep my eyes wide open, a consequence of insomnia and anxiety tormenting me in turns.

The children before me were cheering and laughing, showing no semblance of preparing for a battlefield.

Indeed, after such prolonged protection, it was only natural for them to become desensitized to danger.

‘But still,’ she mused.

Lately, I’ve been experiencing inexplicable palpitations.

‘Hmm… psychologically speaking, these symptoms are entirely normal after losing a friend. By all accounts, I shouldn’t be so confused by them. Yet.’

Occasionally, I’m struck by a sudden, inexplicable premonition of ill omen, like silently spreading spider silk.

They cling, they knot, ultimately encasing my hollow and trembling heart.

‘Is sending these children to the very battlefield where my dearest friend was laid to rest truly the right thing to do? Or am I simply worried that today’s training won’t end so simply?’

My gaze swept over each young, innocent face, and rationality etched them into my memory.

I remember every single one of them.

‘No matter what,’ I thought. ‘I must protect them all—’

….

‘So. Please. Don’t let me see you, okay? Don’t be like what I saw in my nightmare, okay?’

‘Lin Xiaobai. No, that’s wrong. You were the victim. And I… I shouldn’t see that person as you.’