Chapter 15: A Mysterious Invitation

Leaving through the passageway reserved for magical girls, Kexin and Qisi exited the Special Investigation Bureau headquarters. Avoiding unnecessary contact with regular staff was part of Bureau protocol.

It was already late, so the two had no choice but to hail a cab back to their apartment. They made a note in their memo app—each month they could reimburse one taxi fare.

Normally, if Agent Guan Mengyao wasn’t too busy, she would drive them home herself. That way they could chat about work-related matters on the road.

But when they took a taxi, any talk of “magical girls” or “monsters” was off-limits. Even if the driver didn’t take it seriously, he’d probably think today’s youth were out of their minds.

The moment Kexin got into the car, she pulled out her phone. She’d long since developed the habit—whenever she had free time, she’d scroll through short videos or check the latest news updates.

Qisi, on the other hand, was completely different. Opening MChat, she was greeted by hundreds of unread messages—all accumulated since school ended that afternoon.

As one of the school’s social butterflies, active in multiple clubs, Qisi had a huge circle of friends. Everyone liked to talk to her, and she seemed to genuinely enjoy replying to every message.

That was something Kexin couldn’t understand at all. Her own MChat friend list had only a handful of people—most of them other magical girls living in the same apartment complex. Even her mother rarely messaged her first.

She had learned one thing, though: her mother wasn’t running some small countryside farm. The fields back home were actually taken care of by her grandparents—well, her mother’s parents.

Kexin had never met her father. Not once. She didn’t even know what he looked like. When she was younger, she used to ask why she didn’t have a dad, but as she grew up, she simply accepted it.

If no one ever mentioned him, maybe it was better to just pretend he didn’t exist. Perhaps he was a terrible person—and knowing that might only make things worse.

Kexin wasn’t good at many things, but she had a talent for rationalizing her reality—always finding a reason to make peace with it.

Like now: not a single unread message in her chat app? Well, it was a new account, after all. She couldn’t exactly use her old one again… not even to glance at the groups she used to be in.

So instead, she switched over to the local news feed. Not that she particularly cared about Muxhou City’s daily happenings—but because sometimes, incidents involving “monsters” were disguised as ordinary tragedies.

A “suicide,” for example, might actually be the result of an encounter with the supernatural.

As a Special Agent Magical Girl, Kexin wasn’t really expected to keep watch like this. Bureau-assigned missions already took up most of her time. Actively hunting for extra cases on her own would be… well, a bit too diligent. Even the monsters would be touched to tears—if they could cry. (They couldn’t. Nor did they feel pain.)

After scrolling for a while and finding nothing suspicious, Kexin exited the app and tapped another icon—a cute anime girl with pastel hair.

It looked like an ordinary gacha game, but it was actually the Bureau’s internal management app for magical girls.

Once she entered her password, a stylized anime map of Muxhou City appeared. The map marked key locations—the Bureau headquarters, liaison points, and other magical-girl bases.

Exclamation marks indicated potential monster activity. Magical girls nearby could choose to accept a commission and investigate.

It was, honestly, a lot like an RPG quest board.

Because Kexin was a Special Agent, her interface differed from those of freelance magical girls. Most notably, she could see the positions of others currently online.

Tapping their avatars revealed basic combat information—but real-world identity details were hidden, even from her clearance level.

No messages for her here, either. She’d already greeted several of the active girls in her district, but none had replied.

Probably no one had opened the app lately. After all, even magical girls weren’t eager to go monster-hunting for fun—especially after what happened last time.

The pay wasn’t bad, but the risks…

Kexin’s mind flashed to that girl’s blood-stained face. Her left hand clenched unconsciously.

If she ever got the chance… she wouldn’t let that thing go.

Just then, a notification popped up on her phone: “Friend request received.”

The avatar was a familiar face—a pink-haired magical-girl virtual idol named Kagura Mafuyu.

She wasn’t the world’s top VTuber, but definitely one of the most popular. Kexin’s old room had been covered in her posters and merch.

It even occurred to her that maybe her own pink hair after transforming had been subconsciously influenced by watching that idol too much.

Still, who would suddenly add her as a friend at this hour? Before she could even react, the system automatically accepted the request—and a chat window opened on its own.

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” Qisi turned to look. Calm, composed Kexin almost never raised her voice.

“My phone… might’ve just glitched.”

“For real? Didn’t you just get that flagship model last month?”

“I’m not sure. I swear I didn’t tap anything—it accepted by itself.”

The phone was Bureau-issued; she didn’t even know the exact model. After a year at Muxhou First High, she barely cared about phones anyway—students weren’t allowed to carry them on campus, and they only got two days off a month.

“Want to take it to customer service?”

“It’s probably fine.”

“Try restarting it. That usually works.”

“Yeah… good idea.”

She’d heard that somewhere—rebooting fixes 70% of problems, maybe even 90%. Probably just a software hiccup.

But when she held the power button for three seconds, the shutdown menu never appeared.

Weird. It shouldn’t be like this.

Maybe she really did need to have it checked—or even buy a backup phone.

No matter how long she pressed, the screen wouldn’t even turn off.

Then, a new notification appeared. The “new friend” had sent her a group invite—to a chat called “Nonsense Cottage.”

That name… sounded so familiar.

And suddenly Kexin realized—she had once been in a group with that exact name.

Her heart skipped a beat. She opened the member list, scrolling quickly.

There they were—dozens of familiar usernames. No doubt about it.

Then, a new message popped up from the group owner—the same account that had just added her.

“Welcome to the group, Magical Girl Xia Kexin.”

Kexin broke into a cold sweat.

Just who… or what was this person?