Facing challenges bravely is very difficult.

Meng Shan’s lecturing didn’t last long; he had more important matters to attend to.

“Regarding the possibility of Ran Jiuyi being ‘Bian’—have you mentioned this to anyone else?”

Jiang Yunshu replied, “No. Since it was just a hunch, we haven’t told a soul. The only people who know are the three of us and you, Brother Dashan.”

“Good. Keep it that way. Don’t speak of this to anyone else in the future. Even if it’s confirmed that Ran Jiuyi really is Bian, you must remain silent.”

“But why?” Yi Ziling asked, puzzled. “Wouldn’t it be better if more people knew? We could even get Magical Girls from other cities to come and support us.”

“I’m saying this for your sake, and for the safety of the civilians in this city,” Meng Shan explained. “Judging by Bian’s current movements, she seems to be looking for something here. But whatever she’s after, her goal isn’t the destruction of this city. Given her combat power, if that were her aim, half the city would have been reduced to rubble by now. Therefore, our current strategy is to stay put. We observe how things develop before we act.”

The excuses Meng Shan spun wouldn’t hold up under close scrutiny, but they were more than enough to hoodwink these two inexperienced Magical Girls who trusted him implicitly.

To his surprise, Jiang Yunshu actually used her head for once. “Then should we use a different excuse to call for backup? There must be some Magical Girls in other cities with time on their hands who would respond, right?”

Meng Shan couldn’t help but shoot Jiang Yunshu a few extra looks. It wasn’t easy—Jiang Yunshu was actually starting to think critically about his words.

“That’s even less of an option. You’ve never handled clerical work, so you wouldn’t know the nightmare of it. First, to bridge a Magical Girl from another city, you need to file a formal written application. Once that’s submitted and approved, you have to personally communicate with the city in question and sign a series of inter-city agreements before re-submitting. Then, when the girl actually arrives, there’s a mountain of miscellaneous paperwork and more approvals to wait for. Finally, even after she’s here, every single action requires a pre-filed mission plan to be submitted to the higher-ups for review. They have to agree before anyone can move.”

He sighed. “Without a powerful backer to grease the wheels, this process takes at least two or three months. If any link in the chain breaks, who knows how long it’ll take? By the time backup arrives, Bian will be long gone. She isn’t some villainous organization rooted in the city; at the first sign of trouble, she’ll vanish into thin air.”

This was the honest truth—precious experience Meng Shan had gained over the past six months fighting a battle of wits against the “vermin” in the bureaucracy.

Hearing this, Yi Ziling looked distressed. “Then what should we do? Are we really just going to let Bian do whatever she wants?”

“Precisely. What else can we do? A Magical Girl’s true duty is to deal with transcendent troublemakers while maintaining social stability and public safety. Since Ran Jiuyi hasn’t caused any actual loss to the city yet, we have no grounds to interfere. It would be fine if you could resolve the situation without collateral damage, but with the strength the three of you have now? You can’t.”

He added, “Of course, if Bian actually starts making trouble, don’t be afraid. I’ve already designed a plan specifically for her. I guarantee she’ll suffer a crushing defeat.”

Under Meng Shan’s smooth-talking, the “two little ones” were left dazed, believing every word without suspicion. Seeing they had no more questions, Meng Shan looked around, still seeing no sign of Bai He’an.

“Speaking of which, it’s been quite a while. Hasn’t Bai He’an arrived yet? I have some important things to discuss with all of you.”

Jiang Yunshu stood up. “Should I go look for her?”

“No need.” Meng Shan glanced at his phone. The GPS showed Bai He’an was still inside her home. “That matter isn’t something that can be settled quickly, so I’ll go find her myself. You two go back and rest. You’ve just finished a major battle; focus on recovering your strength first.”

Elsewhere, Ran Jiuyi lay alone on her bed, occupied with an urgent task.

The communicator she used to contact Chifuri had been damaged during her fight with Cheng Ya, and the time for her scheduled check-in was approaching. She had to get in touch quickly to prevent Chifuri from doing anything unnecessary.

Ran Jiuyi never carried just one of something so vital yet fragile. Using her Erosion Needles, she skillfully manipulated her computer, unscrewing the casing and assembling several inconspicuous components into a secondary communicator. Her movements were fluid; clearly, this wasn’t her first time.

Linking the communicator to her phone via the needles, she dialed Chifuri.

The call connected almost instantly. Chifuri’s voice came through: “Look who it is. Our busy little ‘assistant.’ How do you have time to chat with me? How’s life lately?”

“Terrible,” Ran Jiuyi replied, her voice sounding drained. “Someone from the Research Institute showed up—insanely strong and a total masochistic freak. We fought, and I got trashed. I’ll probably be bedridden for a week or two.”

Chifuri sounded confused. “A masochist? There are fewer than thirty people in the world capable of defeating you, and none of them fit that description.”

“Her name is Cheng Ya. Her abilities seem to be high-speed regeneration and functional redistribution. She looks like a white-haired onee-san type and claims to be a genius in biological research. She took my spine, saying my ability could help her ‘evolve.’ Does any of that ring a bell?”

Chifuri thought for a long moment. “No. I’m certain none of the people I know fit those traits. Do you want me to investigate?”

“Forget it. She’s with the Research Institute, and likely high up. Investigating blindly might get you flagged by them, which does you no favors. Besides, I suspect she’ll come to see me again. I’ll ask her myself then.”

“Is that wise?” Chifuri asked, worried. “Are you sure she won’t go for the kill?”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry,” Ran Jiuyi said confidently. “Though, I’m surprised the information blockade is so tight. We caused such a massive scene, and even you didn’t hear about it.”

“It can’t be helped.” Chifuri shrugged on the other end of the line. “The Institute’s influence is vaster than you imagine. I’ll send you all the intel I’ve gathered on them later. As for Cheng Ya… since you’ve made up your mind, I won’t pry further. Just be careful.”

The call ended, and Ran Jiuyi tucked the communicator back into the concealment of her neck.

Meanwhile, Meng Shan stood before Bai He’an’s front door.

He had been knocking intermittently for over ten minutes, but there was no response. She didn’t answer her phone, and she wouldn’t answer the door. If the signal hadn’t confirmed she was safely in her bedroom, Meng Shan would have kicked the door down by now.

He couldn’t wait forever. He looked over the door frame and noticed the top was slightly more prominent than a standard frame. Reaching up to the center, he felt very little dust. He began to feel around confidently. Within seconds, a key was in his hand.

The apartment was small. A few steps later, he was at her bedroom door. He knocked again. “Xiao An? Are you in there?”

After a long silence, a weary, fragile voice came from inside. “I’m here. Is that… Brother Dashan?”

“Yeah. It’s just me out here. Can you open the door for me?”

Silence followed again.

This time, Meng Shan didn’t intend to waste more time. He pulled a wire from his belt, shaped it with a quick squeeze, and inserted it into the lock. With a few deft clicks, the door swung open.

Stepping inside, he saw a relatively tidy room: a wall full of robot models, Gundam posters everywhere, and Bai He’an, curled up under her blankets like a turtle refusing to peek out of its shell.

“Alright, the door’s open. Come out and see. It really is just me.”

Hearing this, Bai He’an poked her head out. Just as he said, he was alone. But she was still terrified. “Where’s Ran Jiuyi? Where’s Bian? Is she here?”

From the deep dark circles under her eyes, it was clear she hadn’t slept since returning home.

“Relax. Neither Ran Jiuyi nor Bian is here.” Meng Shan walked over and sat in the chair by her desk. “And I’m right here, see? All in one piece.”

Suddenly, Bai He’an lunged forward and hugged him, tears falling like rain. She held him with a desperate strength, as if he might vanish if she let go.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t…”

“Don’t say it. It’s not important,” Meng Shan said, stroking her hair to comfort her. “What matters is that you’re okay. I’m okay, and Xiao Yi and Xiao Yun are okay, too.”

Bai He’an cried even harder. She knew her two companions had summoned their courage and stepped onto a path they might never have returned from. Only she had been a coward, huddled under her covers, waiting for word, praying for a miracle that might never come.

And even when Meng Shan stood right outside her door, she realized she couldn’t even manage the simple task of opening it.

Overwhelming guilt and shame flooded her heart, turning into tears that soaked through Meng Shan’s shirt.