Chapter 127: Order to Cause Trouble

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“Welcome back, you beautiful and enchanting witch ladies!”

Tunzuo had just stepped onto the deck of the Willy when, before she could even find her footing, Mickey’s passionate and energetic greeting reached her ears.

His high-spirited tone made it seem less like Tunzuo and her companions had just finished a collection mission in the shallow sea and more like they’d returned from a legendary journey written in poetry and distant horizons.

Mickey’s exuberant demeanor made Tunzuo marvel at how cartoon comedy characters always seemed to exist at one of two extremes: either perpetually aggrieved and world-weary, or bursting with boundless positivity and energy.

Whichever type they were, they always managed to draw the audience’s eyes to themselves, turning the most mundane of daily routines into a stage show full of lights and applause.

And, of course, the obligatory Disney singing number.

Though Mickey’s customer-service attitude was a bit over the top, Tunzuo was more than happy to accept such heartfelt enthusiasm welcoming her back.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she flashed Mickey a bright grin and waved vigorously in response.

“We’re back, Mickey!”

“Ohoho, by the looks of it, I take it you three lovely ladies are returning with quite the haul?”

Mickey chattered while trotting on his stubby little legs, waddling over to the ship’s railing to help pull the collected materials aboard the Willy.

But the moment his gaze landed on the white bundle growing from Shub’s back, a distinctly visible stiffness crept into the smile he’d been wearing.

The stiffness on Mickey’s face came and went as quickly as a laggy video frame skipping.

In the blink of an eye, Mickey was back to normal, leaving the witches completely unaware of the fleeting anomaly.

Since Tunzuo and the other witches were busy cleaning themselves up on deck, they naturally didn’t notice Mickey’s subtle change in expression.

“Hoho, looks like the Willy has a new passenger aboard.”

Having composed himself, Mickey cheerfully welcomed Guocha aboard.

He first released a rope and, with nimble precision, lowered Guocha onto the deck before turning his attention to hauling the heavy material crates off Shub’s back, one by one, onto the Willy.

Hearing Mickey welcome Guocha, Tunzuo felt it was her duty to explain Guocha’s origins to him.

After all, the extra witch was someone they’d picked up.

If having another witch on board somehow triggered a new mission, that would be a loss outweighing any gain.

“Guocha’s basically a prisoner of war we’ve taken in. Leaving her to drift alone out at sea wasn’t really an option, so we just brought her along for the ride. Maybe we can negotiate some terms with other teams later. As long as she behaves herself on the ship and doesn’t cause trouble, that’s good enough.”

Tunzuo waved her hand dismissively, her tone casual, not taking Guocha too seriously—as if she’d simply fished a stray cat out of the ocean and brought it home.

Once aboard the Willy, Guocha didn’t panic or pull any stunts.

Instead, she familiarized herself with the ship’s scent like a seasoned veteran, then found a warm, sun-drenched spot on the deck, curled up comfortably, and settled down.

Her two fluffy tails wrapped around her like a soft blanket, turning the whole witch into a single ball of snow-white fur.

A moment later, a contented, rhythmic purring drifted out from the furball, completely devoid of any tension.

Mickey looked at the white furball sunbathing on the deck as if it were home, unconsciously scratching his pitch-black scalp.

A hint of deep, inexplicable worry flickered in his eyes as he muttered under his breath:

“Not cause trouble? That might be a tall order.”

Since Mickey’s muttering was only audible to himself, Tunzuo didn’t pick up on it.

Once she’d dried off again, she pulled out the material checklist and asked Mickey:

“By the way, Mickey, don’t just stand around chatting. Do a count and check whether all the materials needed for the shallow sea area are accounted for. If everything’s in order, we’ll get ready to head down to the ‘deep sea.'”

Hearing this, Mickey immediately dropped his troubled expression, pumped his fist, and assured Tunzuo with a grin.

“You got it! Leave it to me, I’ll take a look right away.”

Mickey crouched down and, with practiced ease, opened each material crate and cross-referenced every item.

His short, stubby fingers in white gloves flew across the checklist.

Though the smile remained on his lips, the look in his eyes was dead serious.

A moment later, Mickey folded the checklist in half, turned around, and shot Tunzuo a crisp thumbs-up.

“Perfect, Lady Tunzuo! All materials for the shallow sea area have been collected with nothing missing. You’re clear to proceed to the next step!”

Tunzuo nodded as she submitted the shallow sea materials.

Phase one of the plan was complete.

Her gaze then drifted past the ship’s railing and settled on the silent sea stretching out before her like an abyss.

The empty, desolate waters silently proclaimed their own terror.

The murky seawater resembled thick, viscous ink, making it impossible for the witches to see what lay beneath the surface.

The entire area was devoid of wind and waves, silent and still—like a stagnant pool that had sat undisturbed for ages.

A single glance revealed nothing but lifelessness.

“Sigh, the road ahead is always fraught with hardship.”

Tunzuo let out a long, drawn-out sigh, her voice thick with helplessness.

If she had a choice, Tunzuo truly didn’t want to deep dive in the Silent Sea.

Why?

Simple—this stretch of ocean was created by Antuxi.

The moment she entered the water, there was a ninety-eight percent chance of being ambushed by all sorts of bizarre creatures.

And once they latched onto you, they’d chase you to the ends of the earth, refusing to let go until one of you was dead.

Tunzuo didn’t like that feeling.

The darkness all around wasn’t the issue—as a Ghost Witch, she was long accustomed to that.

It was the constant threat of ambush and relentless pursuit that rubbed her the wrong way.

But there was no help for it.

What was done was done, and the arrow had already left the bow.

Tunzuo had no choice but to swallow her complaints and begin mentally preparing for the deep dive.

Before setting out, though, she glanced up at the sky.

“Mickey, how much time has passed since we came aboard?”

The blue sky was shrouded in thick cloud cover, yet the sun’s light and heat hadn’t been diminished in the slightest.

It poured down without restraint, bathing the entire sea in a blinding white daylight.

The harsh brilliance made Tunzuo feel almost unreal.

In response to her question, Mickey glanced down at the watch drawn in pencil on his wrist, then quickly looked up and reported faithfully.

The soul fire in his hollow eye sockets flickered.

“Not a minute more or less—exactly nine hours, milady.”

Tunzuo stared at the milky-white sky, her expression unreadable, her emerald-green pupils drifting from within the spatial rift.

Up until now, nothing about this sea seemed to have changed at all.

It remained frozen in daylight—no dusk, no night.

The hands of time had simply stopped.

If not for her biological clock frantically reminding her that it was time to sleep, Tunzuo—whose heightened mental fortitude had raised her fatigue threshold—might not have noticed this anomaly at all.

“Nine hours, huh…”

Had time stopped flowing? Or had this entire sea been cleanly split into two realms by some rule?

The surface world locked in eternal day, while the world beneath the waves was its opposite—eternal night.

From what Tunzuo knew, Antuxi had a near-pathological obsession with what she called “symmetry.”

She was entirely capable of slicing the world apart like a cake—half light, half dark, starkly divided.

But why would the Bad Mommy do such a thing?

Purely for her own aesthetic sensibilities?

Something told Tunzuo it wasn’t that simple…

After mulling it over without reaching any conclusions, Tunzuo simply shook her head, clearing away the irritating thoughts swirling in her mind.

Though she didn’t know what Antuxi was scheming, she abided by the principle that “practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.”

One dive into the water, and everything would become clear.

“Yuge, you stay on the ship and keep an eye on Guocha. I’ll take Naiya and Shub down for a look.”

Tunzuo scanned her three familiars before quickly making the arrangements.

In truth, Tunzuo would have preferred to leave both Yuge and Naiya on the ship.

After all, Guocha’s threat level was still unknown, and keeping more hands on deck was never a bad idea.

But considering Naiya, who was currently clinging to her, would almost certainly refuse to come down from her head, combined with Naiya’s naturally troublesome personality—if she were forced to stay behind, she’d probably cause even more chaos.

And who knew?

Maybe bringing Naiya along would prove unexpectedly useful.

After weighing the pros and cons, Tunzuo ultimately decided to bring Naiya along.

“As you command, Young Master.”

Without wasting a single word, Yuge’s figure blurred, and the Skeleton Gentleman was suddenly standing beside Guocha.

His posture ramrod straight, hands clasped behind his back, looking every bit the stern, dependable butler.

Seeing this, Tunzuo nodded in satisfaction, then turned to ask Mickey if there was any additional assistance available.

“Mickey, do you have a Material Distribution Map for the Silent Sea? If you do, it would save us a lot of trouble.”

“Sorry, milady. The Material Distribution Map—you’ve got the only copy in your hands.”

“Is that so? Then we’ll have to make do.”

Tunzuo felt a pang of regret.

Looked like she was out of luck when it came to taking shortcuts.

With no other option, she turned and called out to Olivia and Hai Lanyue, preparing them for the deep dive into the Silent Sea.

But just before they departed, Mickey suddenly called out to Tunzuo, who was about to jump.

“Ohoho, hold on, ladies! Before you dive in, we need to take some safety precautions. The Silent Sea isn’t like the shallow waters—down there, even light itself gets lost.”

With that, Mickey cleared his throat.

Like a magician about to reveal his grand finale, he swept his hand through the air and cried out:

“Meeska, Mooska, toolbox!”

As the whimsical little spell was uttered, ripples of sound spread through the air in concentric waves.

The next second, a round-headed, retro-styled compass rang out with a crisp alarm chime, flying out from the cabin and wobbling to a halt in front of Mickey.

Mickey swiped at the compass’s surface a few times, as if debating what to choose.

After a few minutes, his eyes lit up, and he plunged his hand into the compass—somehow pulling out a long rope from its impossibly smooth surface.

“This is the Willy’s rescue rope. It can extend infinitely and is nearly impossible to cut. Tie it around your waists, ladies. If you ever run into danger you can’t handle, give the rope a tug, and I’ll reel you back to the ship at top speed. Don’t underestimate it!”

Tunzuo reached out and took the rope Mickey offered, the corner of her mouth twitching as she struggled to find the right words.

Well, there it was—quite literally possessing a magical marvelous tool.

Though Tunzuo felt the rope Mickey handed her was about ninety percent unreliable, she remembered the absurd feats ordinary objects performed in cartoons and silently swallowed her doubts.

Might as well trust it.

An extra layer of protection never hurt.

The laws of cause and effect were beyond explanation anyway.

“Thanks, Mickey.”

Tunzuo secured the rope firmly around her waist.

Olivia and Hai Lanyue followed suit without hesitation, tying the ropes around their own waists.

Once everything was ready, Tunzuo cast her water-breathing spell.

A pale blue glow enveloped her body, allowing her to breathe normally underwater and negating the pressure changes.

Then she stood at the ship’s railing, peered down at the pitch-black, murky Silent Sea, and took a deep breath.

“Let’s go!”

With a resounding shout, Tunzuo dove into the water first, Olivia and Hai Lanyue close behind.

No splash.

No ripples.

As if nothing had happened, the three figures vanished into the murky depths in an instant, leaving not even a trace on the surface.

Watching them leave, Mickey picked up his mop and resumed his routine of cleaning the deck.

Only this time, he had someone new to chat with.

“Never thought Her Highness would actually let you out, little mischief-maker. Isn’t she afraid you’ll turn the folded space upside down?”

Mickey whistled as he lazily mopped the deck, the rhythmic scraping against the wooden planks carrying a hint of deep-seated concern beneath his cheerful tone.

Guocha, sunbathing on the deck, cracked open one eye.

Her mismatched gold-and-blue pupils reflected Mickey’s busy figure.

Her eyes curved into crescent moons, and her soft, syrupy voice now dripped with playfulness.

“Don’t say that, Uncle Mickey. After all, you watched little me grow up. It’s not like I can pull off anything big, you know that.”

Her half-lidded, mismatched eyes sparkled with mischievous light as the tip of her tail lightly swept across the deck, switching it between spotless and messy states.

“I’ve already stirred up the entire Fairy Tale Kingdom—done all the things I was and wasn’t supposed to do. It’s not like I can go have tea parties with the Mad Hatter and the March Hare, right? That’d be so boring, meow.”

Guocha rolled over, curling her paw as if batting at the sunlight streaming down from above, like playing with an invisible ball of yarn.

Her languid tone was tinged with sheer ennui.

“The Headmaster’s always worried I’ll delete something by accident, so he never lets me come play in Duonayongla. Honestly, I always know my limits, okay? A little mischief here and there—nothing that’d cause a big fuss.”

Guocha pouted unhappily, as if she’d suffered some great injustice.

In response, a giant question mark floated over Mickey’s head.

Guocha causing trouble without serious consequences?

Then Mickey should go ask Donald Duck—who’d been plucked bald—or Goofy—whose teeth had been glued together by candy she’d given him.

“Since the Headmaster finally loosened the reins and let me come play in the Academy Tournament, and I’ve met such interesting classmates, of course I’m going to cherish this opportunity~”

Guocha’s cat-like grin kept widening.

Clearly, several mischievous plans were already taking shape in her mind, her expression glowing with excitement like a cat eyeing a fish tank.

But amid her playful antics, Guocha cast a meaningful glance at Yuge, who was monitoring her.

“Hehe, Mister Skeleton, don’t go tattling on me to classmate Tunzuo, okay? This time, I’m here to cause trouble on official orders, meow.”

Guocha deliberately drew out her words, biting down extra clearly on “official orders.”

Her tone practically radiated the smugness of a fox using the tiger’s might.

Guocha’s words left Yuge silent, the ghostly blue flames flickering in his hollow eye sockets.

No need to guess—it was obvious whose orders she was referring to.

He wondered what deeper purpose Lady Antuxi had in arranging such a character to get mixed up in this affair.

After a moment of deliberation, Yuge spoke slowly, his voice carrying a strange, rhythmic cadence entirely devoid of inflection.

“I shall decide based on the situation.”

“Hehe, then I’ll just take that as you agreeing, Mister Skeleton.”

Guocha giggled, then curled back into a white furball, resuming her sunbathing as if the entire conversation had merely been a midday daydream.