“Help… help me…”
An extremely weak scream leaked out bit by bit through the gap of the half-open door at the end of the hallway.
Su Ruanruan stopped in her tracks.
The pair of white fluffy cat ears that had been slightly drooping from boredom perked up.
The tips twitched very lightly before slowly standing straight.
“What the heck?”
She lowered her head and quietly shuffled closer to the door on her bare, fair little feet.
The oversized T-shirt hem swayed gently above her knees with her stealthy movements.
Su Ruanruan extended a finger, pressed it against the door panel, and gently pushed it open.
Creak—
The moment the door hinge made a soft sound, a stuffy odor unique to a long-unventilated room hit her in the face.
The smell wasn’t exactly foul, but the mix was complex and hard to describe: the leftover spicy red oil from last night’s instant noodles, the artificial flavoring scent from snack wrappers that hadn’t been thrown away, and the stale smell of cotton clothes that hadn’t seen sunlight for a long time.
Su Ruanruan’s small nose wrinkled, and undisguised disgust appeared in her pale pink eyes.
The thick blackout curtains were drawn tightly shut, allowing only a faint, dim ray of light to slip in from the edges.
Under this dim lighting, she could see the full state of the room.
On the wooden floor, three black trash bags sat quietly in the corner like they had taken root there.
Several empty transparent bottles were scattered across the computer desk.
But the most unbearable sight was the gaming chair, with several pairs of discarded black ankle socks hanging crookedly on the backrest.
The bed looked like it had been dug through by a large dog, with the thin blanket tangled up with several crumpled pieces of clothing.
“What is this mess…”
Su Ruanruan couldn’t help muttering softly.
The cat ears on her head flicked backward in clear displeasure.
As a Witch who had standards for quality of life, she felt it was difficult to even breathe while standing here.
Moreover, just half an hour ago, she had already unilaterally decided in her heart that Hoshino Haruka was now her familiar.
A familiar’s territory was equivalent to her own territory as Su Ruanruan.
She could not accept letting her own territory become this messy.
“Whatever. I’ll treat it as digestion after a meal.”
She sighed helplessly, rolled up the loose sleeves of the oversized T-shirt to reveal a small section of her fair arm, and got to work.
She tied up the trash bags and swept the empty cans from the desk into the bags one by one.
After finishing that, Su Ruanruan moved to the bedside and reached out to sort through the tangled pile of clothes.
The moment her fingertips grabbed the edge of one piece of clothing, her movements suddenly stopped.
It was a basic black camisole.
The fabric had a slightly brushed texture, with no lace or decorations.
It probably belonged to Hoshino Haruka.
Seriously, even something like this was thrown around carelessly.
Su Ruanruan pinched the thin strap with two fingers, but her gaze uncontrollably lingered for two extra seconds on the slightly full curves.
The air suddenly became quiet.
The only sound in the room was the faint whir of the PC case fan.
Su Ruanruan slowly lowered her head and looked down at her own chest.
Under the loose T-shirt, it was as flat as a good cutting board.
“…”
Su Ruanruan bit her lower lip.
The tips of her small ears unknowingly turned a faint red.
Without a word, she crumpled the black camisole into a ball.
Carrying a bit of sulkiness and petty revenge she herself hadn’t noticed, she pulled open the wardrobe door and stuffed it fiercely into the deepest, most invisible corner at the bottom.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Just as she turned around, Su Ruanruan’s delicate white toes suddenly stubbed against a hard object on the carpet.
Before she could even hiss in pain, a very faint mechanical whirring sound suddenly came from the silver-black metal laptop on the carpet.
Buzz—
The notebook screen, which had been in sleep mode, lit up instantly.
Whoa!
The sudden cold blue glow hit Su Ruanruan’s pale little face without warning.
She stumbled back half a step in fright and fell hard onto the soft carpet on her butt.
Immediately after, the weak cry for help from earlier blasted out clearly through the external speakers:
“Help—! Heal me! Quick, heal me! I’m gonna die!!!”
Su Ruanruan opened her eyes wide in shock, her gaze focusing on the glowing screen.
It was a colorful pixel-art game screen.
A chibi little character was lying in a pool of blood, twitching wildly.
Above the character’s head, a golden [Use Revival Coin] button was flashing on and off.
Was it you calling for help?
If she just tapped that glowing thing, it could come back to life, right?
Su Ruanruan knelt on the carpet, staring at the dying little character on the screen.
She hesitantly reached out her slender arm, her fingertip hovering slowly above the keyboard.
The faint red backlight of the keyboard reflected in her pupils, flickering.
After pausing for two seconds.
Clack.
A crisp but not particularly loud sound of the lid closing.
Su Ruanruan expressionlessly closed the notebook’s screen.
The blue light instantly vanished, and the scream was abruptly cut off. The room returned to its dim silence.
“Who cares about you.”
She muttered casually. Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, her movements suddenly froze in mid-air.
Su Ruanruan stared at her hand, which was still pressed on the laptop’s metal casing, and blinked.
Wait a minute.
Faced with the desperate cry for help from a weak little life, she not only didn’t lend a hand, but personally cut off its last chance of survival.
This… this was way too evil!
Su Ruanruan slowly withdrew her hand and cupped her gradually heating cheeks with both hands.
Thinking of this, she even felt her eyes sting a little. A tear of self-pity welled up in her eyes.
However.
The moment she raised her gaze.
Because the laptop had been closed, a small object that had been hidden behind it suddenly entered her field of vision without warning.
It was a heart-shaped metal box with an old bronze luster, engraved with intricate rose vine patterns.
The dim light reflected off the metal surface with a cold texture.
“—!”
Su Ruanruan let out a short, strangled gasp.
The smug mood she had been in just moments ago completely shattered the instant she saw the box clearly.
Her pupils contracted sharply.
Her limbs went weak uncontrollably.
Su Ruanruan practically scrambled backward across the carpet until her thin back thumped hard against the cold, solid wall.
The two proud white cat ears on her head were now completely flattened against her hair.
That shape.
That pattern.
It was almost identical to the red heart-shaped object that had transported her to this damned universe!
That was… a Magical Girl item.
Why would something like that—a tool belonging to those brutal creatures—be in the room of an ordinary human who didn’t even have any mana?
Hoshino Haruka… that wooden block who could only cook, was she actually a Magical Girl?
In her mind flashed a terrifying image of Hoshino Haruka wearing a pink lacy dress, expressionlessly reciting lines about love and justice, then punching a hole through her stomach.
Gulp.
Su Ruanruan swallowed hard, feeling cold sweat soak her back.
She pressed herself tightly against the base of the wall, holding her breath.
Trembling, she stretched her arm as far as possible and fished out a disposable chopstick still stained with dried red oil from an empty instant noodle cup on the nearby desk.
She curled herself into a tiny ball and extended her hand to its maximum length.
The greasy tip of the chopstick inched closer, pressed against the edge of the bronze heart-shaped metal box, and gently pried it open.
Click.
The metal clasp opened, and the lid popped up a small gap.
“Waaa—!”
Su Ruanruan threw the chopstick away in fright, hugged her head tightly with both hands, squeezed her eyes shut, and curled up into a trembling white fluffy ball on the carpet.
The room fell into deathly silence.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Su Ruanruan carefully lifted her face from her arms a little, quietly opened one eye, and peeked into the box through the gap.
Inside the metal box.
Two rusty sewing needles lay quietly.
A few tangled strands of black and white thread.
A brass thimble for finger protection tucked in the corner.
And even two one-yen coins from who-knows-when scattered nearby.
“…”
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