Ran Jiuyi is stubborn with her words, but her actions are honest.

While Meng Shan and the three girls were neck-deep in frantic preparations, Ran Jiuyi was enjoying the most leisurely period of her recent life.

The salary Meng Shan had set for her was far higher than she’d imagined—enough to book a single room for two weeks in a hotel with excellent service and ambiance.

One might wonder: how does a “human stump” book a hotel room? Did she stay in her Ascent form the entire time? Of course not. Maintaining that form was a massive drain on her mana; she had a much simpler solution. By piercing her torso and neck with Erosion Needles, she could suspend her body in mid-air. As for her limbs, the answer lay in a stack of wooden branches she had casually tossed into the corner of her hotel room.

Using her needles, she easily harvested branches from trees that matched the size, thickness, and length of her original limbs. With a bit of sanding by the needles and then inserting them to control the movement, her DIY prosthetics were complete. She couldn’t actually walk on them—it was far more efficient to just use the needles to drag her body along—but with some fabric draped over them to camouflage the wood, they worked well enough as a disguise.

From there, all it took was a little bit of acting. She played the part of a pitiful, helpless woman who had fled home in a fit of grief after her newlywed husband’s heartless infidelity. Combined with her high beauty marks and the occasional “slip of the tongue” about having a wealthy family she currently couldn’t access, she easily won the sympathy and assistance of the hotel staff.

While the young employees might not have covered her room bill, they were more than happy to help with smaller tasks like free room service or picking up deliveries—driven either by a hunger for the opposite s*x or genuine pity for her “tragic” circumstances.

The masterstroke was a single, tearful request: “If my husband comes looking for me, please drive him away. I don’t want to see him.”

Whenever Meng Shan would eventually come looking for her, these hotel employees—whom Ran Jiuyi had successfully hoodwinked—would serve as sentries, obstacles, and most importantly, deliver a barrage of judgmental glares his way.

Ran Jiuyi knew perfectly well that since she wasn’t actively hiding, it wouldn’t take Meng Shan long to find her. Her goal was simply to have the staff despise him and make his life difficult for “poking at her sore spots.”

Her plan was sound, but from an outsider’s perspective, there was one obvious flaw: wasn’t this just a loud, public way of telling Meng Shan exactly where she was? Perhaps she didn’t realize it; perhaps she didn’t care; or perhaps, deep down, she didn’t actually object to him finding her.

Regardless, she was currently lying on a wide, plush bed, tucked under a soft, warm duvet, happily watching a horror movie. Fittingly for her Magical Girl persona, Ran Jiuyi was a hardcore horror fan; she’d watched nearly every decent horror film on the market. The scares were child’s play to her; the way she looked when she fought was far more terrifying than most ghosts on screen. What truly interested her were the creative sparks—ghosts that could only be seen from specific angles, or people being chopped into dozens of pieces and turned into candy to the sound of cheerful music.

Truly, Ran Jiuyi had no right to complain when people didn’t treat her like a typical Magical Girl. After all, what kind of Magical Girl watches horror movies to relax?

As the movie reached its climax, Ran Jiuyi used an Erosion Needle to skewer a grape, peeled it with two quick flicks, popped it into her mouth, and continued to enjoy her show in total comfort.

A phone call interrupted her fun—specifically, a call she already knew the nature of. After a week of recovery, her hands were fully restored. She snatched up the receiver. “Hello? May I help you?”

The voice of a young waiter came from the other end. “Hello, Miss Ran. A young man named Meng Shan was just here asking about you. Is he… your husband?”

Ran Jiuyi knew it was showtime. She instantly broke into a tearful sob. “Yes… that’s the heartless man! Waaaah… Please, drive him away! I don’t want to see him!”

“Hey, hey! Miss Ran, please don’t cry!” The waiter comforted her while shooting a sharp look at his colleague.

Taking the cue, the colleague turned to Meng Shan and said sternly, “I’m sorry, sir, but we have no guest by the name of Ran Jiuyi staying here.”

Meng Shan pointed to the waiter still on the phone. “But he just said ‘Miss Ran’ out loud.”

“You must have misheard, Mr. Meng,” the receptionist said, his gaze shifting from stern to pure contempt—as if Meng Shan were a monster. “My colleague said ‘Miss Ran‘, but it’s a different character. Please leave immediately and stop interfering with our work.”

“Fine. Sorry for the trouble.”

Confused, Meng Shan walked out of the hotel. He was now certain she was there, but why had the waiter looked at him like he was a criminal? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Did she do something?

Watching his retreating back, the waiter said into the phone, “It’s alright, Miss Ran. We’ve driven him away.”

“Really? Sniff…” On the surface, she was a weeping willow, but inside, she was howling with laughter. “Thank you so much… give me some time, I need to calm down.”

“Of course, Miss Ran. Just let us know if you need anything.”

As soon as she hung up, Ran Jiuyi burst out laughing. “Hahaha! That’s what you get for having a big mouth! That’s what you get for making me mad! Hahahaha!”

Truth be told, Ran Jiuyi could be incredibly childish and bored at times.

However, her laughter died down quickly. She saw a slip of paper slide through the gap under her door. Using a needle to bring it to her eyes, she saw only three words: I am sorry.

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her. Her good mood vanished instantly, and she felt a sudden urge to rush out and argue with him. But when she threw open the door, the hallway was empty.

Fuming, she slammed the door, flopped back onto the bed, and sulked.

Sorry?! What did Meng Shan mean by that? Did he think a simple “sorry” would make everything okay? And did he look down on her that much—thinking she was some cold-hearted creature who wouldn’t help unless he apologized?

“What an annoying guy. Just you wait, I’m not helping you at all!”

Despite her words, her actions were quite honest. She briskly got dressed and attached her “limbs.” Before leaving, she glanced back at the big bed that had been her companion for a week. She likely wouldn’t be lying in it again for a while.

The truth was, she had been “hard-mouthed” from the start. How could she possibly stand by and watch while Meng Shan and the others faced such a threat? She had been angry, yes, but anger alone wouldn’t have made her leave. She had done it for a simple reason: to use the opportunity to see how far Meng Shan and the girls could go. Would Bai He’an run again in the face of a powerful foe?

And most importantly: Meng Shan was willing to die for those girls, but would they do the same for him? Meng Shan claimed they would, but Ran Jiuyi needed to see it with her own eyes to believe it.

In another corner of the city, inside a long-abandoned warehouse, a massive ball of flesh throbbed like a giant heart.

A steady stream of mana surged from the ring above it, being absorbed and devoured by the mass. This flesh-sphere was what Ken the Werewolf had become; he was inside, frantically gorging on the ring’s power to fuel his evolution.

It was the final moment.

The throbbing grew violent, and the thick outer skin became increasingly translucent. Beneath the glowing surface, a monster of immense power was being born.

Finally, the evolution hit its critical threshold. The sphere stopped throbbing and began to shrink rapidly. As it contracted, the mana within solidified and compressed until it reached its limit, finally condensing into a humanoid monster.

“Ahahaha… finally… finally, my evolution is complete!”

Ken the Werewolf roared with laughter, the gloom of his days as a fugitive vanishing instantly. He had surged from two meters tall to a staggering five meters. Though his physical size had increased several times over, his body’s density and mana concentration had leveled up even more.

His appearance hadn’t changed much—he was still the classic image of a legendary werewolf, just scaled up. If his creator, Cheng Ya, were here, she would have spotted the problem immediately. It wasn’t just his looks; his entire physiological structure and mana flow were identical to before.

This wasn’t evolution; it was reinforcement. He had simply used external mana to bloat himself, forcing his power level into the next stage. While this provided a massive boost in a short time, it stripped him of any further potential. Cheng Ya would have hated it—to her, it was a pathetic waste of resources.

But Ken didn’t know that. He felt that keeping his original form was a good sign; it meant his body had already reached perfection and didn’t need to change. Feeling the overwhelming power surging through him, he felt a confidence he had never known.

Organizations like the Research Institute meant nothing to him now. And that woman, Cheng Ya… she had looked down on him even though he could possess such power, telling him he was only fit to be her “little pet puppy.”

What a humiliating insult to the pride of a werewolf. Just you wait, Cheng Ya. I’ll kill you soon enough.

But first, he would fill his belly with the people of this city and test his new strength on those Magical Girls. Oh, and that woman who had chased him all this way? He’d kill her too, while he was at it.

A crisp snap interrupted his thoughts. It was the ring.

Ken picked up the ring, now drained of all its mana, and tossed it carelessly into the distance. He didn’t know why it had held so much power, but it was useless now.

“Now… the hunt begins.”