"Tsk, ambushed." Stelle gazed skyward, lamenting her fate.
The age-old dilemma: Hold the bat and you can't embrace the trash can. Protect your friends and you lose the bat. Agony! True agony!
The "Belobog Yeti" Sampo had performed a Houdini-esque escape during the Silvermane Guard's arrival, slipping his bonds with floral-scented smoke bombs. When the pink haze cleared, the Trailblazers stood surrounded—their "prisoner" long gone.
"Ugh… outplayed!" March puffed her cheeks, settling for documenting the moment. At least the photo would immortalize their plight.
"Cheese~!"
The camera flashed, freezing March mid-pout. Flickers of memory danced in her eyes—until Stelle's theatrics interrupted.
"Show some respect for Anming's face! Let us pass!" Stelle struck a CEO pose, chin tilted imperiously.
The guards exchanged confused glances. Who's Anming?
March facepalmed. Damn Anming's trashy web novels corrupting her! Stelle had recently adopted phrases like "Become mine, Pom-Pom! Limitless riches await!"—scaring the conductor into hiding for days.
"Please cooperate with our investigation," Captain Gepard sighed. This mismatched trio seemed harmless enough. Let the Supreme Guardian sort them out.
"At least we're not lost anymore." Stelle winked. Trash cans could wait until they reached five-star accommodations.
March groaned. Compared to Anming—who'd soloed Doomsday Beasts—Stelle's "plan" felt like playing hide-and-seek with fate.
Trailblazer Group Chat
Kafka's Dog:
[Anming replied! He's not "refined" into Stellaron fuel after all.]
Cutest Galaxy Girl:
[Told ya! Now hurry before Stelle adopts more trash cans!]
As Silvermane Guards escorted them through Belobog's Administrative District, Stelle's eyes locked onto a curvaceous, pristine public bin.
"March… I've found true love—"
"No!" March jabbed a finger. "We've hit our romance quota with Anming! Stay chuuni!"
Stelle clung to the trash can like a tragic heroine. "Our souls are entwined! Destiny's garbage binds us!"
It took four guards to pry her loose.
"Wait—is that Anming?" Stelle squinted at a distant figure accompanied by a silver-haired girl.
"Nah," March scoffed. "He's probably still faceplanting in snowdrifts."
Qliphoth Fort Plaza
"Glowbug."
Anming set down a fruit-topped cake. Across the table, Liuying sat primly, cheeks pink, toes scrunching in her boots. Post-reunion clarity brought shyness—Had she been too forward earlier?
"My treat." He fed her a strawberry-laden bite. "I'm a big spender now."
Liuying giggled. "Then I'll rely on you, Mr. Tycoon." She'd happily be his 1-credit sugar baby.
"Silly." Anming brushed crumbs from her lip. "You're beyond price."
Liuying reciprocated with a cream-coated forkful. The mundane dessert tasted ambrosial—sweet as her kiss.
"Messy eater." She leaned in, silver hair cascading as she licked frosting from his mouth.
Anming's eyes widened. Since when did Silver Wolf teach her this?!