“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
“And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:”
Xia Lan traced the words on the page like a mother handling her child raised through hardship.
Shakespeare’s poetry was always romantic and intoxicating—
The meticulous, symmetrical prose would surely make even Apollo atop Mount Olympus swoon over these lines.
The air in the literature club was always light and pure; the books on the shelves freely exuded the thick, woody scent of their spines.
Sunlight spilled through the glass windows, painting patches of golden mottle on the floor.
“Good afternoon, President.”
The door swung open, and a figure slipped in nimbly.
A waterfall of long hair cascaded behind her, the strands leaping through the air like a flock of excited little fairies dancing.
“Xiaoqing, you’re here.”
Xia Lan set down the poetry collection, the corners of her lips curving into a gentle smile.
“Sorry, I ran into a teacher and got held up. He talked to me about the recent safety issues.”
Xiaoqing sat down, an apologetic expression on her face.
“You know, there’s been a string of disappearances on my street lately. My mom told me not to come home for now, so I’m going to stay overnight here in the club room.”
“A string of disappearances… The one on the local news in Lianshan last night?”
“Yeah. The victims are all 17-year-old students, both boys and girls.”
Xiaoqing sighed.
“I was looking forward to eating hotpot at home.”
“Be careful, okay.”
“Alright, enough about that. President, I brought the book you wanted.”
Xiaoqing suddenly turned sly and mysterious.
Like an experienced underground operative, she cautiously glanced around the room, confirmed there was no one else, then crept closer to Xia Lan, turned her back to the surveillance camera, and pulled a book out of her backpack.
The Daily Life of a Magical Girl Falling into Love’s Corruption
A title that would shock any literary enthusiast.
On the cover, a magical girl with turquoise hair looked pitiful and dazed, held from behind by a faceless man.
It was as out of place in this literary club room—
Brimming with artistic atmosphere and romantic flair—
As a wall-facing Trump trying to speak to the Trisolaran world.
For a moment, you’d wonder if your eyes were playing tricks on you, or if there was some hidden depth to it.
But when Xia Lan saw that book, the corners of her mouth lifted.
Her fingers trembled, yet she feigned restraint as she took it and immediately flipped it open.
[“Uncle, don’t… Sister Long will be sad…”]
A thunderbolt from the first line.
The book snapped shut.
‘I shouldn’t read this in this “form.”’
A flicker of barely perceptible self-reproach passed through her eyes.
Xia Lan tucked the book into her canvas bag, which already held several world classics.
They were like miniature literary palaces, their warm, ancient ink scent seeping from the gaps between pages.
That little porn book about the magical girl was carefully wedged between Don Quixote and Lolita.
Now, Mr. Don Quixote on the cover didn’t just face a giant windmill—
He faced a wicked succubus.
No doubt Sancho would still tell him it was just a magical girl who liked being eaten by an uncle.
“I didn’t expect the President to be into this kind of book too.”
Xiaoqing blinked, a sly glint in her eyes.
“It’s only human.”
Xia Lan’s gentle smile made Xiaoqing blush for no reason.
“But why did you specifically ask me to bring the green one? The pink magical girl one is way more erotic and better.”
Xiaoqing twisted her body, lost in ecstasy for a moment.
“Xiaoyuan was the strongest magical girl, but she was ostracized by everyone.”
The villain boss disguised himself as a transfer student and took advantage of her vulnerability.
Two people of such unequal status, through constant interaction, fell in love with each other, heart for heart.
“In the end, under the beautiful moonlight, the boss told Xiaoyuan everything. Torn between her lover and the justice she once swore to uphold, Xiaoyuan resolved to abandon everything and choose love. She was so humble she even said, even if the boss’s feelings were a lie, she hoped he would lie to her for a lifetime. A story that falls not for smut but for love—how thrilling!”
Xiaoqing was already a complete pervert.
“Xiaoqing, you’re drooling.”
“Ah, sorry! I can’t stop myself once I start talking about what I love.”
Xiaoqing snapped back to reality, hurriedly wiping the corner of her mouth, laughing awkwardly.
Xia Lan couldn’t help but chuckle, amused by Xiaoqing’s expression.
Just then, a pink butterfly flew in through the window.
Its wings looked like they were made of cherry blossom crystals, refracting dreamlike luster under the amber sunset.
It fluttered lightly around the room.
“What a beautiful butterfly.”
Xiaoqing adjusted her glasses and sighed in admiration.
The butterfly drifted in circles, then finally landed steadily on the slender index finger of Xia Lan’s hand.
“President, it’s not afraid of you.”
Xiaoqing leaned in to stare at the butterfly.
“…Well done.”
Xia Lan gazed at the butterfly, as if receiving some silent message, a satisfied expression on her face.
The fingertips of her other hand gently stroked the butterfly’s tiny head, the motion as soft as caressing the finest fleece of a lamb, full of praise and affection.
The butterfly seemed overjoyed.
It flapped its wings, circled Xia Lan a few times, and then flew away.
“President, what did you just say? ‘Well done’?”
Xiaoqing was curious.
“It’s so close to me—I had to give it some praise, didn’t I?”
Xia Lan picked up her canvas bag, straightened her school uniform, and started walking.
“I’ll head back first. Don’t mess around alone in the club room.”
“I know, President. You’re just like my old grandma.”
Xiaoqing pouted, waving at Xia Lan as she watched him leave the literature club.
“Sigh, the President is unrealistically beautiful. How can a boy be more delicate than a girl? Is it natural? Damn it, comparing people only makes you mad…”
—
In the dim, cold, and damp basement, only the candle on the table by the wall flickered, casting wavering light around it.
Its body could barely hold on much longer, as if the darkness was about to devour it with insatiable hunger.
Mysterious figures in white robes surrounded the central magic circle.
The circle was about five meters in radius, drawn with chalk.
On the outer edge was a circle, flanked on both sides by small hexagons.
Three equally spaced small circles on the main circle were connected to form a triangular pattern.
At the center of the pattern was a half-open eye.
Against the wall, several emaciated young men and women were bound hand and foot, staring in terror at the robed figures around them, sobbing and whimpering.
They were the victims of the recent disappearances.
“Today, we gather here for a matter of celebration.”
The tallest among the robed figures raised his hands and shouted.
He seemed to be their leader.
“After years of preparation, finally, finally! Our great Light Angel Asalik is about to descend upon the mortal world!”
“OOOOH!!!”
The white-robed crowd erupted in cheers.
“For years, the Leonard Corporation has been hunting down our brethren and obstructing the path to the god’s resurrection. They are so afraid that once the Light God returns, it will threaten their ambition to unify the world!”
“Because of this, how many of our kin have been persecuted, how many believers have been killed by those Magical Girls! Our hearts ache! Their stupidity will hinder humanity’s evolution to a higher plane!”
“Today, let us mourn the fallen believers. Tomorrow, we will be even more united! Be the best believers and make our Magical Girl friends pay the price!”
“PAY THE PRICE!!!”
The white-robed crowd was frenzied, causing the bound boys and girls to tremble even more in fear.
But at that moment, one of the boys ground his teeth and shouted, “You lunatics! You won’t come to a good end!”
The white-robed people suddenly fell silent.
The leader’s gaze whipped over, making the boy instinctively shrink back, but he still returned the glare with stubborn eyes.
He was obviously terrified, yet a fire burned in his gaze.
“What a brave little one.”
The leader walked over, crouched down, and lifted the boy’s chin.
“What’s your name?”
“None of your damn business!”
The boy shook his head like a dog, shaking off the stinking hand on his chin.
“F*cking cult! Just wait to go to hell! Your so-called ritual is nothing but a hollow shell of your imagination!”
The white-robed figures froze, then burst into laughter.
Some even doubled over, as if they had just heard the funniest joke in the world.
“Ha ha ha! Look at this—the ignorance of humanity before receiving the enlightenment of the Light God! Haha, I’m dying of laughter!”
The leader pointed at the boy, laughing so hard he almost choked.
“In that case, let you be the first sacrifice of the ritual! Ralu!”
At the leader’s command, a burly white-robed figure hoisted the boy up like a toy, took a few strides to the center of the circle, and threw him inside.
The boy cried out in pain.
Before he could get up, he found the white robes had closed in, surrounding the magic circle completely.
“You… you…”
The boy’s voice trembled.
All the white-robed people raised their hands and began chanting an incomprehensible whisper.
The whisper seemed to come from primordial times, fading into the ethereal and boundless.
It belonged to no language known to mankind.
Every syllable, every tone seemed to sketch the true form of the unknown, as if to force the sun to close its eternal, unchanging eye, and to make the moon retract its trembling heart.
The chant invaded the victims’ minds, making them dizzy—
An invisible poison seemed to seep into their nerves and every cell of their bodies along with the sound.
The boy chosen as the first sacrifice felt his skull splitting as if countless knives and forks were prying it open, feasting on his brain.
The air grew hot, as if the sun’s heat had been transferred here.
The chalk-drawn magic circle began to emit a blinding white light.
“No, no, that’s impossible!”
The boy in the center was horrified.
The reality that defied comprehension shattered his inner defenses.
Was the ritual real? Was he really going to die?
No, I don’t want to die!
Tears streamed from the boy’s eyes, falling onto the dry concrete floor.
He remembered the Magical Girls the white robes had mentioned earlier.
Magical Girls…
If such things really exist in this world, please come save me!
Save me!
“I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!”
With the boy’s heart-wrenching scream, as if heaven itself couldn’t bear to watch, the light of the magic circle suddenly cut off, extinguished as if by an invisible hand.
The white-robed figures stopped chanting, looking at each other in confusion.
“What’s going on! The ritual procedure wasn’t wrong!”
The leader demanded sternly.
No one could answer his question.
Maybe only their god knew.
In the dead silence, a dainty pink butterfly made of crystal—
Jarringly out of place in its surroundings—
Appeared silently above the crowd.
It fluttered gracefully, as if calmly observing everything.
A pink butterfly?
Shit!
The white-robed leader’s face changed drastically.
“Retreat!”
But it was too late.
The ground violently shook.
Countless ugly, fat, wriggling maggots burst through the concrete floor like a volcanic eruption of filth, instantly swallowing all the white-robed people.
They piled layer upon layer, squirming madly, wrapping the white robes into disgusting nests of maggots.
The rest of the maggots turned into a surging wave of insects that quickly flooded the magic circle and swept past the still-unconscious boys and girls, consuming the ropes binding them in a flash.
The students screamed at the sudden change, scrambling on their freed limbs to get away from the squirming maggots.
These filthy, dirty, abominable things stirred up even more disgust and revulsion in them than the white robes had.
But the boy in the center seemed to realize something.
Though equally terrified and nauseated, he stared incredulously at the wave of maggots.
The swarm began to converge on one side, layering and stacking, forming the outline of a human figure.
Dense enough to make anyone with trypophobia faint.
Under their shocked gazes, the aggregate gradually took on the shape of a person.
Delicate, smooth skin, flowing dark green hair, exquisite jade-like collarbones, slender and sexy legs, and shiny flesh-colored stockings reflecting the faint candlelight…
In just a few breaths, a green-haired girl in a magnificent white-and-green gown, graceful in figure, was born from the endless filth.
The extreme contrast of filth and beauty stunned everyone present.
The green-haired girl slowly opened her brilliant golden eyes.
Her gaze swept over the rescued students and finally landed on the white-robed figures now completely buried under the maggots.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen of the Light Cult.”
The girl’s voice was soft, and she even elegantly lifted her skirt in a curtsy.
Of course, no one could answer her.
In just a moment, all the white robes were gnawed into a mess of debris under the maggots’ maws, looking utterly pathetic in the flickering candlelight.
Having completed their task, the maggots gleefully surged toward the girl, like children running to their mother.
They circled her affectionately a few times before reluctantly merging into her skin, disappearing without a trace.
“It’s all right now.”
The green girl smiled gently at the students, but they only responded with fear and recoiling.
The green girl didn’t mind.
Humming a little tune, hands clasped behind her back, she walked briskly toward the exit, the clack of her high heels echoing lightly.
“Wait!”
The girl stopped.
The boy from the center struggled to his feet, his gaze burning on her back:
“You… are you a Magical Girl?!”
The green-haired girl was silent for a moment.
She turned her head and smiled.
“Have you ever seen a Magical Girl fight with disgusting bugs?”
“I don’t care!”
The boy said firmly, almost shouting, “At least you saved us—that’s indisputable! What matters is the heart, not the form of your power!”
The green magical girl’s expression flickered slightly, then she gave a helpless smile.
“There’s no getting through to you. The police will be here soon; they’ll take care of you.”
“That’s not what I mean! I want to know your name! Something like Viridian, Crimson, Azure—any nickname will do! What’s your title?”
The boy stepped forward, pressing urgently.
“A name, huh.”
The green magical girl thought for a moment, then winked playfully.
“Though my power is related to ‘Life,’ my enemies seem fond of calling me—”
“The Magical Girl of Nurgle.”
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