Ran Jiuyi’s Past

In their daily life, it was Ran Jiu’yi who took care of the domestic-disaster known as Suzuki Tetsuya. But in battle, it was Suzuki Tetsuya who had to drag along Ran Jiu’yi—a “mob-tier” fighter who initially struggled to even beat a low-level lackey.

When they first started taking missions as the Nine-Tailed Fox Squad, far from helping, Ran Jiu’yi was lucky if she didn’t trip over her own feet. In every fight, Tetsuya spent half her time battling illegal superhumans and the other half rescuing Ran Jiu’yi from various self-inflicted crises.

Fortunately, the squad only took simple missions back then, and the enemies were weak. Between battles, Tetsuya had enough energy to teach Ran Jiu’yi how to channel mana and increase her strength. Under this relentless tutoring, Ran Jiu’yi improved rapidly. One month in, she could control her Eclipse Needles; three months in, she learned to absorb and transfer life force; by six months, she could convert raw mana into vitality.

However, as Ran Jiu’yi grew stronger, a new problem emerged: her near-total lack of social etiquette and her “zero-limit” combat methods.

For example, when facing a criminal holding a hostage, Ran Jiu’yi wouldn’t negotiate to stabilize the situation. Instead, she’d shout, “You’re the one holding him, what’s that got to do with me?” while launching an indiscriminate attack on both the hostage and the criminal.

Or, when faced with civilians demanding compensation for property damage or reporters asking malicious questions, Ran Jiu’yi would decisively flip them off and yell: “I just saved this city and countless lives, and this is the attitude I get? Believe it or not, next time I’m not doing a damn thing!” Then she’d walk away with “swagger,” leaving everyone in stunned silence.

“So you were that wild back then? It turns out you’ve actually mellowed out quite a bit. I really couldn’t tell.”

Ran Jiu’yi looked highly displeased with Meng Shan’s observation. “You have a problem? Tetsuya lectured me for a long time about those things. I don’t do stuff like that anymore.”

“No problem, it’s just that whether it’s then or now, you don’t really seem like a Magical Girl. Most of the ones I’ve seen are gentle, cute kids—like Yi Ziling. At most, they have strong personalities, but they’re still ‘good girls’ at heart.” Meng Shan scanned her from head to toe. “Someone with your… let’s say, ‘fiery’ personality… I’ve truly never seen the like.”

Ran Jiu’yi gave him a deadpan look. “Stop beating around the bush. You’re just saying I don’t look like a Magical Girl. Say it if you want; ever since I became one, basically no one has ever recognized me as a Magical Girl the first time we meet.”

As she spoke, she transformed. The familiar evening-gown battle suit materialized around her once more.

“I’m asking you: do I really not look like one? The transformation, the outfit change, the beautiful girl—how is this not a Magical Girl?”

Meng Shan studied her carefully. The form-fitting gown was clearly made of high-quality material, tracing her curves perfectly while the multiple leather belts around her waist drew the eye. The ruby hanging from a thorn-collar at her neck, the crystal ornaments in her hair, and the spiked gauntlets and pauldrons created an aura of profound danger. Combined with her cold, elegant features and dark purple-black hair, that danger transformed into a unique kind of allure.

However, none of that was as distracting as the stark contrast of her skin against the dark fabric, or the sight of her “legs”—the swirling, shifting mass of Eclipse Needles peeking out from beneath the waist-high slit of her skirt.

Actually, it’s not bad at all.

Ran Jiu’yi sighed. “Stop staring at those two spots. I know you’re a chest and legs guy. And I have to say, your ‘XP’ is weird—who likes looking at a cluster of needles?”

Meng Shan looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry, sorry. You’re beautiful enough normally, but I didn’t expect you to look even more stunning after transforming. Plus, your legs right now… they have a certain ‘unique flavor.'”

The compliment was decent, but Ran Jiu’yi wasn’t buying it. She asked bluntly, “It’s normal for men to be horny. So, top or bottom, which do you prefer?”

“Do I have to say?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… I like both.”

Ran Jiu’yi looked at him with contempt. “Greedy bastard. You really need to fix that weird fetish of yours.” Then she chuckled. “But you told the truth, so I don’t hate it.”

“So, I’ll tell you some truth too: when I said I don’t do those things anymore, I meant I don’t curse as much. But in other ways—like how I treat my enemies—I’m much more vicious than I used to be. You’ll see eventually.”

A year passed. Under Tetsuya’s guidance, Ran Jiu’yi grew tremendously in both power and professional capability. She could now handle simple missions solo. The Nine-Tailed Fox Squad gradually made a name for itself, attracting many superhumans who wanted to join.

However, both of them could see that most applicants were either after Tetsuya’s beauty or Ran Jiu’yi’s “charms.” After weeding out the obvious creeps, few suitable candidates remained. By the end of the year, they had only expanded to five members instead of the planned seven. The three new recruits were average—they couldn’t beat Ran Jiu’yi one-on-one, and it took all three of them just to hold their own against Tetsuya. Still, for a rookie squad, it was a solid start.

The only flaw was that after a year of Ran Jiu’yi’s meticulous care, Suzuki Tetsuya had become a complete vegetable in terms of self-care. She didn’t just stop doing chores; she needed Ran Jiu’yi to help her with basic things like dressing and washing.

As the squad grew, their field missions were split among the new members. Combat time decreased, replaced by more image-endorsement deals with the government and private corporations. Normally, this should have been handled by Tetsuya, who had a more “approachable” appearance, but she was lazy and a shut-in. Since the others were too green to represent the team, most of these duties fell on Ran Jiu’yi.

Faced with no choice, Ran Jiu’yi was forced to learn how to dress formally and develop basic literacy. You can’t sign a business contract if you can’t read the fine print or look the part.

What annoyed Ran Jiu’yi most was that while she was working herself to the bone, Tetsuya had completely checked out. Unless it was a mandatory combat mission or a major gala, Tetsuya spent almost all her time at home, gaming in her underwear.

Every day when Ran Jiu’yi returned from work, she still had to cook dinner and clean. After a couple of months, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Enough, Tetsuya!” Ran Jiu’yi snapped. “I can’t watch you rot like this. From today on, you are doing chores!”

Tetsuya shrank back. “But… this is how I was at my old house.”

“That was then! You’ve left your family. I can’t take care of you forever. You have to learn to look after yourself.”

Realizing Ran Jiu’yi was serious, Tetsuya brainstormed a “brilliant” idea. “How about this? I’ll give you my entire salary as payment, and you keep taking care of me. What’s that job called… a Chief Maid?”

Ran Jiu’yi sighed. “No. That’s not how this works. I’m not negotiating; I’m notifying you. Since you won’t do chores, I’m sending you to school.”

“Ah! I don’t want to go to school! School is exhausting!”

“Precisely because you don’t want to, that’s why I’m doing it. Starting next week, you’re going.”

And so, using money and connections, Ran Jiu’yi enrolled Tetsuya in a top-tier high school. Having never gone to school herself and suffering for her lack of education, Ran Jiu’yi viewed Tetsuya as a younger sister and refused to let her endure the same hardships. She took on all of Tetsuya’s work responsibilities so the girl could enjoy a relaxed campus life.

Thankfully, her efforts weren’t in vain. After starting school, Tetsuya made friends and became much more outgoing. She stopped moping at home and spent her free time playing with friends and joining activities.

For Ran Jiu’yi, that was probably the happiest period of her life.

Meng Shan remarked, “Who would’ve thought? You’re actually ‘good wife and mother’ material. So young, yet you already had that ‘mom energy.'”

Ran Jiu’yi shot back instantly, “I can’t compete with you. Not even thirty yet, and you’re already a ‘dad’ to three teenage girls.”

“No, I wasn’t mocking you,” Meng Shan said softly. “I just meant… whatever man marries you in the future will be very lucky.”

“Oh… is that so? Sorry,” Ran Jiu’yi apologized quickly. Then she murmured, “But with my personality, I don’t think anyone would want to marry me.”

“Not necessarily. There might be someone… right in front of you.”

“…You old creep. Be serious for once.”