Chapter 20: The Killing Intent of Her Own Kind

She lifted her head and looked at the backs of those girls, who had already turned and were laughing as they were about to disappear around the corner of the corridor.

“Wait!”

Her voice was much louder now, echoing clearly through the empty hallway.

The girls’ footsteps faltered.

They turned back with looks of surprise.

Su Yuan forced herself to meet their eyes, even though doing so made her heart pound so wildly it felt like it might leap out of her chest, and her cheeks burned with heat.

“I have something important to do today too.

I can’t help you.”

She spoke each word deliberately, as if prying them out from between stones.

“Eh?

Something that important?”

Meng Qiu raised an eyebrow, her smile fading slightly into a more appraising look.

“Su Yuan, you’re not just saying that because you don’t want to help us, are you?”

Su Yuan was past caring.

Her fingers gripped her backpack straps tightly.

“I have to meet a friend today too.”

Uttering those words had taken every ounce of her courage.

A thin sheen of cold sweat was already forming on her forehead.

For someone with social anxiety, such a direct refusal was no less than a fierce battle.

“Huh?”

Meng Qiu looked as if she had heard the most ridiculous joke.

She lightly touched her lips with one hand, smiling mockingly at Su Yuan, her eyes carrying undisguised contempt.

“You’re kidding, right?

Su Yuan… has friends…”

But as she spoke, Meng Qiu seemed to sense something was off.

Her scrutinizing gaze lingered on Su Yuan’s face for a moment.

Su Yuan didn’t have friends?

No.

In the past, Su Yuan had indeed kept to herself, like a silent shadow.

But recently, something seemed different.

Could it be that the “very important friend” Su Yuan mentioned was…

Her train of thought was interrupted by a clear voice.

It wasn’t loud—calm, even—but it made the smile on Meng Qiu’s face freeze instantly, the mocking smirk solidifying at the corners of her mouth.

“Do your own cleaning duty.

Meng Qiu, and the rest of you.”

Su Yuan and the others looked up simultaneously toward the source of the voice.

At the shadowed corner of the corridor, a figure stood silently.

The setting sun streamed diagonally through the window behind her, gilding her tea-brown hair and white school uniform shirt in a warm golden rim.

Bai Shimo stood there, poised and serene.

Her amber eyes swept calmly over the girls frozen at the doorway, finally landing on Su Yuan.

“C-class president…”

The expression on Meng Qiu’s face instantly turned awkward and flustered.

The bravado she had been clinging to evaporated like dew under the morning sun beneath Bai Shimo’s placid gaze.

She opened her mouth, wanting to defend herself, but when she met Bai Shimo’s eyes—which seemed to see through everything—she swallowed all her words.

Biting her lower lip with a hint of reluctance, she shot a glare at her two companions, who had also fallen silent.

The group shuffled back dejectedly, brushing past the frozen Su Yuan, and returned to the messy classroom to resignedly pick up brooms and rags.

Only after watching their figures disappear behind the door did Su Yuan finally let out a long, silent breath.

Her tense shoulders sagged slightly.

She adjusted her backpack and trotted over to Bai Shimo.

“Th-thank you,” she said, head lowered, voice soft.

“I should be the one apologizing,” Bai Shimo shook her head, a note of regret in her voice.

“I failed as class president—I didn’t manage them well, and it made you suffer this kind of treatment—Xiao Yuan, have you always been ‘asked’ like this by them?”

Su Yuan was silent for a moment before slowly nodding, her voice barely audible: “S-sometimes…”

She lifted her gaze to the dusk settling outside the window, her eyes somewhat distant.

How many clumsy hardships she had endured to fit in, to disguise herself better as “human,” how many silent grievances she had swallowed—only she knew.

Bai Shimo looked at the slender figure before her, at those red eyes tinged with confusion and forbearance, and something soft in her heart was gently stirred.

She reached out and lightly squeezed Su Yuan’s slightly cold fingers, her face breaking into a warm, determined smile.

“Not anymore,” she said softly, her tone carrying an unshakable promise.

“I won’t let you suffer like this again.”

Outside the school gates, the streetlights had already come on.

The streets were painted by the mingling hues of dusk and neon.

Snack stalls and convenience stores bustled with activity—students leaving school, office workers hurrying home, leisurely pedestrians—all merging into a lively tide of sounds.

Bai Shimo naturally walked beside Su Yuan, chatting about trivial school matters—and occasionally, she would casually mention snippets of her life as “Magical Girl Molly.”

“…Besides attending classes here, I have to go to the Security Bureau base regularly for training, to stay in form.

My phone has to stay on 24/7, tuned to a special frequency.

See?

Like this.”

She pulled out her phone and waved it.

On the screen was an inconspicuous snowflake-shaped icon.

“Whenever a district detects abnormal mana fluctuations or signs of magical beasts—our team—Azalea, Lotus, Thorn, Sunflower, and me—no matter where we are, we have to drop everything, assemble immediately, and rush to the scene…”

Su Yuan listened, nodding occasionally or murmuring a soft response, but most of her attention was fixed on the surroundings and the crowd.

Her gaze swept casually across unfamiliar faces.

Her ears filtered through the blended noise.

Her intangible perception unfurled like the most precise radar.

If Sinor had been telling the truth, then their “revenge” against Bai Shimo might already be underway.

Among these hundreds of ordinary human faces, each reflecting joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness—amid the clamor of conversations, street vendors, and footsteps—there might be one or two unusual faces hidden.

Her demon kin, carrying killing intent, were watching this unsuspecting “strongest magical girl” chatting beside her, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

To be honest, Su Yuan had witnessed Bai Shimo’s strength firsthand.

The earth-shattering arrow at the concert backstage, and the combat prowess she displayed afterward, made it clear that ordinary low-rank demons—even in numbers—would hardly pose a real threat to Bai Shimo.

But… she didn’t dare gamble.

What if Sinor’s group had special methods?

What if they caught Bai Shimo in a moment of carelessness?

What if… they didn’t care about sacrifices at all, and used swarm tactics or even more insidious traps?

Transformation required preparation time.

A magical girl in her untransformed state was vulnerable.

She didn’t want to see Bai Shimo hurt.

Not at all.

Just as the two of them crossed a busy intersection and waited with the crowd for the light to turn green, Su Yuan’s perception suddenly caught a flicker of anomaly.

At the edge of the crowd, about ten meters away, two men in dark suits carrying briefcases—looking like ordinary office workers—were murmuring to each other.

Their behavior seemed unremarkable, but under Su Yuan’s focused perception, the faint demonic fluctuations concealed beneath the human auras and urban grime emerged like submerged reefs beneath the surface.

Their gazes, seemingly casual, would linger on Bai Shimo for the briefest of moments before moving on.

Found them.

Su Yuan’s heart sank slightly, her fingertips curling subtly.

She didn’t alert anyone.

She simply committed the two figures’ subtle magical signatures and appearances to memory.

When the light turned green, she seamlessly closed the distance to Bai Shimo, walking almost shoulder to shoulder.

She subtly positioned her body as a shield on the likely attack side, while steering their conversation and path toward the upscale residential area where Bai Shimo lived—known for its stringent security.

No matter how bold demons might be, they usually wouldn’t attack openly in densely populated, heavily monitored, and patrolled gated communities.

If she could get Bai Shimo home safely, tucked inside, at least tonight should be safe.

The rest of the journey went without incident.

Only after she had seen Bai Shimo to the entrance gates, watched her swipe her card and disappear into the tree-lined path beyond, did Su Yuan’s tense heart finally settle slightly.

“Shimo,” she couldn’t help but reiterate seriously before parting, her brow slightly furrowed, “remember what I said?

Things aren’t safe lately.

Please be careful when you’re out.

Try not to go out alone.”

“Mm, I know.”

Bai Shimo nodded obediently, though inwardly she found it a little amusing.

Su Yuan looked far more delicate and in need of protection herself…

But this overwhelming concern felt warm, and she didn’t dislike it—it gave her a strange sense of satisfaction.

She attributed it to the care of a “friend” and didn’t have the heart to say, “You’re the one who should be more careful.”

“Then, see you tomorrow.”

Bai Shimo waved and turned into the corner of the neighborhood.

Only after her figure had completely disappeared did the forced ease on Su Yuan’s face vanish, replaced by a solemn vigilance.

She didn’t leave immediately, nor did she look back in the direction Bai Shimo had gone.

Her full attention was locked onto those two lingering traces of demonic presence—her own kind—that hadn’t strayed far since they arrived.

They were still nearby.

As if confirming the target’s final resting place, or waiting for the next opportunity.

Standing at the boundary between the bright lights of the neighborhood and the bustling street, Su Yuan half-concealed herself in the shadows of the roadside trees, her red eyes narrowing slightly like a nocturnal feline.

Now, it was her turn to “look after” these uninvited “kin.”

📚 Also on NHV Novels

Our Guide to the Second World

CapableDevotedGuideverse

Read Now →
Not interested