Chapter 72: Is It Necessary to Hide the Truth?

On the TV screen, the news anchor reported with a serious expression.

“Recently, due to continuous heavy rainfall, Yunxi Village in Linxi City has experienced a severe landslide and mudslide disaster. According to relevant authorities, the entire village has suffered significant damage, and search-and-rescue operations are still ongoing…”

Listening to the report, Kexin held the remote, unsure whether to change the channel or continue watching.

At this moment, a complex mixture of emotions surged in her heart. She didn’t feel this way during missions, but now, a heavy weight pressed down on her chest.

The three people in the dining area were also drawn in by the news, quietly stopping their chatter to listen.

Nekoza even forgot to chew the bread in his mouth and swallowed it whole.

“Here are live footage from the scene.”

Following the anchor’s words, the screen switched to aerial shots of Yunxi Village. Almost the entire village was buried under mud and debris, with only a few broken rooftops peeking out, faintly recognizable.

Construction machinery and emergency vehicles were scattered across the site. As the camera zoomed in, rescue workers in reflective vests could be seen trudging through the mud, their faces serious and exhausted, yet they continued their work.

If one had not experienced it firsthand, Kexin might have believed it was just an unfortunate natural disaster.

The aftermath work conducted by the Special Investigation Bureau (SIB) was flawless. They even falsified geological changes so perfectly that anyone visiting the site would find it hard to spot discrepancies. In cities, such incidents were usually covered up as gas pipeline explosions or other accidents.

Thinking back, Kexin recalled how, after defeating the monster yesterday and confirming the area’s safety, SIB’s professional team quickly arrived. Each department performed its duties with precision, using equipment so advanced it dazzled Kexin, collecting data, removing traces, and finally simulating a natural disaster.

They also coordinated with local emergency management. The rescue workers shown on TV were not SIB personnel pretending to be rescuers.

“…Authorities remind that recent rainfall has exceeded the average levels for this time of year. Viewers should be cautious of geological hazards…”

The anchor’s voice pulled Kexin back to reality.

As the news shifted to other topics, everyone’s attention gradually drifted, treating the broadcast as background noise.

At this moment, Nekoza lightly jumped onto the sofa. “Looks real enough. SIB’s disaster response is getting more skilled, meow.”

Bai Xihan, who had taken on dishwashing duty, peeked out from the kitchen, holding a half-washed plate covered in soap bubbles, chewing on something as she mumbled, “After all, covering up the massacre of an entire village by a monster isn’t something you can handle with normal methods. Many passersby were also taken to the local police for questioning, and when they return, they’ll likely only remember being safely evacuated.”

“That’s really unlucky,” Kexin muttered, placing the remote back on the coffee table. “Before this, I couldn’t even have imagined memory-manipulation technology existed.”

“Strictly speaking, it’s not manipulation,” Nekoza explained. “It’s more like a strong psychological suggestion to make people believe a fabricated reality. In the past, some people whose memories were erased suddenly recalled everything.”

Shizuki Hime, with her gentle, soothing voice, added, “It’s also to protect ordinary people’s daily lives. If the truth about monsters were revealed now, it would likely cause widespread panic.”

She unconsciously twirled a strand of her pale pink hair around her finger.

This was, in fact, the standard explanation given to all SIB recruits, including Kexin.

Whether an ordinary SIB agent or a magical girl, everyone fought monsters in secret, and even if they perished, it would be without recognition.

“Speaking of which,” Bai Xihan said as she finished washing the dishes and joined them in the living room, casually hugging her knees, “doesn’t that mean a lot of people face monsters without knowing? If they had prior information, they could protect themselves better, maybe even avoid areas monsters might target…”

The question brought a brief silence.

The TV switched to the weather forecast, the anchor’s voice contrasting sharply with the quiet in the room.

“I don’t think it would work,” Kexin spoke first.

The topic reminded her of her own awakening as a magical girl—a recent, unforgettable memory.

Thinking back to that desperate moment, if she hadn’t mysteriously gained magical powers, she would likely have ended up like the other victims, discovered dead in some strange manner, with SIB providing a convenient excuse for the cause of death.

It sounded grim, but even with weapons, would it have made a difference?

Not really. Even if one tried to avoid monsters, they actively targeted their victims. Simply hiding didn’t help.

Giving ordinary people knowledge about monsters and some weapons would only increase their ultimate despair.

Kexin shared her thoughts, and the others agreed. Continuing this topic would only bring up unpleasant memories, so by mutual understanding, they dropped it.

They chatted about trivial matters as time slowly passed.

“Already past eight o’clock?” Bai Xihan suddenly exclaimed, hurriedly checking her phone and rushing to her room, knocking over a sofa cushion in her haste.

Kexin looked at Shizuki, confused, unable to understand what had suddenly come over her.

“I think Little Bai had plans to hang out with Shion, if I remember correctly,” Shizuki said, her tone uncertain.

“Shion is—” Kexin searched her memory and recalled the magical girl with the codename Polar Bear, whose real name was Kumano Shion, a member of Bai Xihan’s team.

Other than periodic meetings, Kexin rarely saw her; even during meetings, Shion sat quietly in a corner. Compared to her, Lo An Ying was much more talkative.

“Polar Bear hardly ever goes out, meow,” Nekoza explained, tilting his head thoughtfully. “She spends most of her time in the lab or writing incomprehensible code. It’s rare that Little Bai can get her out, meow.”

At that moment, a commotion came from Bai Xihan’s room—wardrobe doors banging, hangers clashing, drawers being hurriedly opened and shut.

Someone unfamiliar might think a burglar had broken in. But it was just changing clothes, though Kexin couldn’t help but wonder why it had to be such a production.

“It’s probably a date,” Shizuki whispered with a mischievous smile.

“Oh?” Kexin’s eyes widened, but after a moment’s thought, she had to admit the explanation made sense.

Suddenly, Bai Xihan’s bedroom door slammed open.

Dressed and ready, Bai Xihan stood at the doorway, glaring at Shizuki with a hint of anger.

Shizuki held her breath, nervously clutching her clothes, glancing at Kexin with a faintly trembling voice: “Uh, Kexin, I’m heading to the library first. See you later.”

She slipped toward the door.

“Wait!” Bai Xihan raised her voice to stop her.

Shizuki stiffened.

She braced herself for a lecture, eyes closed, ready to face the storm.

“Uh… do you think this outfit is okay?” Bai Xihan suddenly softened, asking shyly, her eyes darting between the three, ears faintly red.

The sudden change left them all stunned. Kexin examined her outfit: a plain white long-sleeve hoodie with an inexplicable graphic on the chest, slim black casual pants, brand-new white sneakers, neatly styled hair, and faint lip gloss.

“You…,” Kexin opened her mouth but swallowed the words, continuing to scrutinize her.

Nekoza snickered: “So Little Bai is treating this like a date, meow, but it’s too casual, meow.”

“Huh?” Bai Xihan frowned, pouting slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Too ordinary, meow. If it’s a date, meow, you should dress up a bit more, like a dress, meow.”

“I didn’t say it’s a date!” Bai Xihan’s face flushed red as she flailed to deny it.

Nekoza gave a knowing wink.

“Since we’re all familiar, no need to overthink clothes. But,” Shizuki cautiously approached, letting Bai Xihan spin once, “you should fix your hair.”

Shizuki produced a comb and skillfully styled Bai Xihan’s hair, smoothing frizz and tucking stray strands, revealing her forehead and making her look more lively.

“Add this too.” Shizuki attached a teddy bear hairpin to the side of Bai Xihan’s hair.

Kexin watched closely, and when it was done, she couldn’t help but slightly gape. It really looked like magic.

A few months ago, she was still an ordinary high school boy, incapable of managing long hair. Now, with this body’s amazing hair quality, she could style it effortlessly.

Bai Xihan checked herself in the mirror, satisfied, before remembering she was already late. She grabbed her backpack and dashed out.

Watching her rush off, Kexin and Shizuki exchanged a smile.

They really got along well, Kexin thought for a moment.

As the apartment door closed, sealing out the outside noise, a sudden quiet filled the living room. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting dappled patterns on the wooden floor. Dust particles drifted slowly in the beams.

Kexin stared at the floating dust, suddenly feeling a strange emptiness, even though she wasn’t alone.

The kitchen still smelled of breakfast; cushions were scattered on the sofa; light morning TV played in the background. Everything exuded warmth and life.

Yet Kexin felt like an outsider, standing outside a transparent glass dome, observing the lively world inside.