Chapter 131: Lack of Love

“…P-Pink?!”

The moment she heard that word, Lin Yu froze like she’d been electrocuted.

“H-How should I know?!”

She snapped her fingers shut like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on, crushing the pink glow in her palm as if hiding it could erase her shame.

“Maybe… maybe it’s a bug in the transformation system! Or maybe this phase-spirit body originally came with this setting! Definitely has nothing to do with me personally!”

Her face flushed tomato red, her eyes darting everywhere, her voice getting louder the more guilty she felt.

“I’m a real man! An iron-blooded tough guy! How could my inner color be that?! This is totally unscientific!”

But instead of joking like usual, Manager Qian didn’t laugh at her flustered outburst.

Instead, he slowly folded his hands under his chin.
Behind his glasses, his gaze turned deep—so deep that it felt like he could see straight through this cute façade and stare directly at the trembling soul inside.

“Is that really so, Xiao Lin?”

His voice was calm and quiet.

“Spirit energy is the echo of the soul. It’s more honest than your conscious mind.”

“Pink is usually seen as soft, sweet, and girly.”

“But in spirit-psychology, this kind of extremely pure, even heart-sparkle pink often doesn’t mean the person is happy.”

“On the contrary…”

His gaze sharpened so suddenly that Lin Yu instinctively wanted to retreat.

“…it can also represent—a deep sense of lack.”

“Lack…?”
Lin Yu froze.

“That’s right.
Because those who lack love the most, crave it the strongest.”

“Because reality is bitter, one desperately fantasizes about sweetness.”

“Because someone has never experienced being cherished, being accepted unconditionally… the soul erupts in such vivid, beautiful pink light.”

Manager Qian slowly stood up and walked toward her.

Each sentence was like a hammer, striking straight into the defenses she didn’t even know she had.

“Think back on your twenty-plus years, Xiao Lin.”

“Were you always that transparent person? Average grades, ignored at home, treated like a convenient tool in real life?”

“Did you often feel suffocated at night? Thinking—
‘I worked so hard… I didn’t do anything wrong… so why does life keep grinding me into the dirt?’”

“Did you—because you’re male—carry the burdens of ‘be strong,’ ‘buy a house,’ ‘be successful,’ even when living a life others sneered at?”

“And yet… you envied those girls who could be cute, protected, and cherished without doing anything?”

Lin Yu opened her mouth, but her throat felt stuffed with cotton.

Those repressed memories surged up uncontrollably—
the envy of kids lifted high by loving parents,
the loneliness of watching classmates go out because she couldn’t afford it,
the sting of her boss humiliating her in public while she forced a smile and said “yes, yes, yes…”

Yes… every single one hit home.

“So, Xiao Lin.”

Manager Qian leaned down so their eyes were level.

“When you gained this magical-girl body… when you gained this power… the longing you’d suppressed for so many years finally found an outlet.”

“Your spirit energy is pink not because you’re feminine—”

“—but because more than anyone, you long…
to be treated gently by this world.”

“BOOM—”

Lin Yu felt her entire face ignite. Heat shot from her cheeks to her ears and all the way down her neck.

If a crack opened under her, she would jump in, weld it shut, and never come back out.

What the hell?!
She just got psychoanalyzed—by a balding middle-aged uncle—
and he exposed her hidden “love-deprivation attribute” so thoroughly she wanted to scream.

I-It’s all nonsense!!

“S-Stop talking!”
She clamped her hands over her ears, shaking her head violently.

“I—I’m not that fragile! You’re totally overinterpreting! It’s all superstition!”

Seeing her act like a cornered hamster—clearly hit in the heart yet stubbornly denying it—Manager Qian couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Alright, alright. I’m superstitious. It’s all nonsense.”

He lifted his hands, kindly offering her an escape route.

Lin Yu snatched the chance like a drowning person grabbing a rope, inhaling deeply, trying to cool her burning face.

This topic had to die. Immediately.
One more sentence and she would mentally implode.

Her eyes darted desperately for a distraction—

Then she suddenly remembered the strange feeling she had during the simulation battle.

“T-That!”
She raised her voice, switching topics with all the grace of slamming a car into reverse.

“Let’s talk about something serious!”

“Hm? Go on.”
Manager Qian folded his arms, amused.

“It’s about combat strength.”

Lin Yu squeezed her fist, feeling that overflowing power coursing through her.

“During the simulation… something felt different. Before, I had to chant forever to cast anything, and I’d run out of breath after a couple swings. But today? It felt like I was hacked.”

“Everything was faster, stronger—just better. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

She raised her head, worry creeping into her eyes.

“Is this a side effect of contamination? Are those negative energies controlling me? Am I going to turn into some bloodthirsty maniac later?”

“Become a maniac?”
Manager Qian snorted, waving dismissively.

“Relax, Xiao Lin. Your circuits do have some dirty bits mixed in, but I monitored the entire thing.”

He pulled up a graph on a holographic screen.

“See this green line? That’s your Soul Anchor Index—your self-awareness and sanity. It didn’t budge the whole fight. So no, you’re not losing your mind.”

“Then what caused it…?”
Lin Yu frowned.

“If it’s not contamination, then where did that spike in strength come from? I didn’t suddenly awaken or something, right?”

“Oh, you didn’t open your meridians…”

Manager Qian pushed his glasses, a scholarly glint reflecting off the lenses.

“…you opened something far more important—
your Synchronisation Rate.”

“Synchronization… rate?”
Lin Yu blinked.

“Yes. The core stat that decides how strong a magical girl can be.”

He raised a finger, launching into lecture mode.

“A magical girl uses her soul to drive her phase-spirit body. The more your mind matches this body, the more power you can unleash. That match-level is synchronization.”

He pulled up Chen Bing’s combat card.

“Look at Chen Bing. Trains like hell, excellent tactics… yet stuck at B-rank forever. Even younger girls surpass her.”

Lin Yu nodded. She always thought Chen Bing was just unlucky.

“The cruel truth?
She’s too old.”

Manager Qian sighed.

“19 is still youthful, but in this line of work…”

He shook his head dramatically.

“Being older means the downhill has started.”

“The magical-girl archetype is fundamentally… well, a girl. Full of adolescent possibility and fantasy.”

“Chen Bing’s mind matured too much. She thinks like an adult. That maturity becomes a barrier between her soul and the body. Her synchronization hits a ceiling.”

Then he pointed at Nightfire Ying.

“Nightfire Ying may be gloomy, but mentally? She’s basically a kid. Pure-minded. Perfect ‘girl archetype.’ Her sync rate rises just by existing.”

“In short”—
he clapped his hands—
“the more you match the psychological profile of a magical girl—
the higher your sync—
the stronger you become.”

Lin Yu’s eyebrows knitted so tightly she could crack a walnut.

The theory made sense.

But—

She looked down at her body.

Yes, she looked like a cute JK.
But her soul was a 28-year-old man.

“Wait, wait, Manager Qian—your logic is broken!”

She pointed at herself, expression incredulous.

“By your reasoning, the more someone matches the magical-girl archetype, the stronger they get.”

“So what about me?!”

“I’m a man! An almost thirty-year-old uncle! If anyone is the complete opposite of the magical-girl profile, it’s me!”

“By your logic, my synchronization should be negative!”

But instead of being surprised, Manager Qian smiled in a way that made her scalp tingle.

“Xiao Lin…”

He stared at her meaningfully.

“Have you ever considered—
that precisely because you lacked love, desired beauty, and even subconsciously wanted to escape your stressful, burdensome male identity…”

“…when you finally transformed—
when you wore that cute skirt—
when you tasted the sweetness of youth…”

“…your soul might be more immersed in the magical-girl state—
than any actual girl?”