Ran Jiuyi’s Past

“When I first heard the news, I went mad, searching everywhere for any word of Suzuki Tetsuya.”

“Do you know what they told me? They said she died during childbirth. But I didn’t believe it. How could a superhuman, with vitality so much greater than an ordinary person, die in childbirth?”

As she spoke, Ran Jiu’yi’s tone was calm—as calm as the dead.

“But I couldn’t find any other information. It was then I realized: to know the truth of her death, I had to go to the Suzukis. Ideally, a direct member who knew the inner secrets.”

“I was lucky. It didn’t take long for someone who knew the truth to find me.”

“I was also unlucky. The people who found me were Tetsuya’s parents.”

“From their words, I learned how she died. The reason was simple: because the child she bore had a bloodline concentration that was too low, the enraged Suzuki Ritsu killed her on the spot. The infant didn’t survive either; it followed Tetsuya into the void.”

“But their bodies weren’t buried. On Ritsu’s orders, they were secretly moved to a laboratory for research. Tetsuya’s parents came to me because, in the family manor, she never stopped murmuring my name.”

“They felt I must have been someone very important to her. So they came specifically to tell me of her death. And to warn me: Suzuki Tetsuya is dead. Don’t try to find her. You will only die.”

At this point, Ran Jiu’yi suddenly laughed, but the expression was more sorrowful than any weeping.

“It’s just too funny. They were worried about that. Before she died, I hadn’t gone to look for her even once. How could I have been in any danger?”

“In that moment, I realized that compared to the pain of losing a friend, physical agony was nothing at all.”

“Three months! Three months! I had three whole months to go find her, but I didn’t because I was afraid of being tortured again!”

Crack. Crack.

One by one, Ran Jiu’yi snapped her own fingers. Blood-stained bone shards ruthlessly pierced through her skin.

“Just because I was afraid of a little pain, I didn’t go to her!”

“It’s hilarious, isn’t it? Isn’t it just too funny?!! All because of this little bit of pain! Just this much!!”

Meng Shan grabbed her hands, stopping her self-mutilation. “Enough. Stop it. You’ve endured enough.”

“It’s not enough! It’s not! Compared to what Tetsuya went through, this is—”

Slap!

Meng Shan struck her across the face. “Get a hold of yourself. Don’t tell me that you, who survived all this and grew this strong, lose control this easily.”

“…Sorry.” The sting on her cheek brought her back. “I lost control for a moment. My apologies. I thought I had mastered my emotions. Clearly, I haven’t.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have made you tell this story. Let’s stop for today.”

“No. You should hear the rest. We’ve come this far; let’s not leave things half-finished.”

After sending away Tetsuya’s parents, Ran Jiu’yi’s heart was consumed by rage and grief. She swore to give Suzuki Ritsu the most agonizing death possible. She changed her name back to Ran Jiu’yi, as it was the one thing she felt truly commemorated her friend.

But revenge isn’t built in a day. From their single encounter, she knew that in terms of raw power, Ritsu could kill her without lifting a finger. She needed strength—strength that would make her capable of killing him in a short time.

But that was easier said than done. It had taken her a year just to rise from cannon fodder to a regular soldier. At that rate, it would take decades to match him. She couldn’t wait that long. If she couldn’t kill Ritsu yet, she would start with the rest of the family.

After three months of hellish training, Ran Jiu’yi targeted her first victim: one of the four bodyguards who had surrounded her the day she met Ritsu.

She expected an easy fight, but it was far harder than she imagined. The guard could summon multiple fox-demon illusions and possessed martial skills that outclassed her own. It was a nightmare for her unrefined control over the Eclipse Needles. By the five-minute mark, she was on the verge of collapse, holding on by pure willpower alone.

Damn it. If only I were faster… if I had more power. Wait…

Looking at her needles, a mad idea took hold. The needles moved faster than her body. If she drove them into her own flesh and let them pull her limbs, she could force her speed and strength far beyond their natural limits.

Without a second’s hesitation, she did it. She won the fight, and in doing so, she found the path to rapid growth.

“Actually, I wanted to die from the pain. Having dozens of needles rattling around inside your body is a terrible sensation. After that fight, I was bedridden for a week. But it worked.”

Ran Jiu’yi controlled the needles in her right arm, forcing them to pierce out through her skin before retracting. “I’ve used it so much now that I’m used to it. That fight taught me I wasn’t nearly strong enough. So, I traveled the world, seeking out enemies who were stronger than me—but not too much stronger—and fought them to the death.”

“I pushed my mind and body to the absolute limit. It was the only way to get strong fast. And it cured my fear of pain. See? By now, normal pain doesn’t even register.”

Meng Shan rubbed his forehead. “I suspect ‘normal’ pain has a very different definition for you. Your past is even more insane than I thought. Honestly, I’m starting to regret asking.”

Ran Jiu’yi shrugged. “Your choice. Now keep listening.”

Under this suicidal regimen, her growth accelerated. A year and a half after Tetsuya’s death—her third year as a Magical Girl—Ran Jiu’yi awakened her Ascension Form during a life-or-death struggle. She became one of the most powerful Magical Girls in the world.

In this form, she was many times stronger than before. She easily slaughtered the opponent who had nearly killed her. Feeling this hard-won power, she knew: the hour of her vengeance had finally arrived.

“I started with the branch families. One by one, bit by bit, I crushed every person named Suzuki. I tried every torture ever recorded in history—and some that were only legends—on their bodies.”

Ran Jiu’yi looked at her hands, as if the blood she had spilled then would never truly wash away.

“I don’t enjoy killing. I don’t enjoy torture. But every time I wanted to give one of them a quick death, a voice in my head would scream: Don’t let them off easy. Have you forgotten Tetsuya?“

“Every single time, that voice won. And the revenge grew bloodier.”

“Did you ever feel… excited?” Meng Shan asked.

She shook her head. “No. Not even a shred of pleasure. In fact, I loathed myself. What is there to be happy about, watching someone suffer because of you?”

“Did it at least quiet the guilt?”

Ran Jiu’yi was silent for a long time. “Yes. Every time I killed a Suzuki, the guilt would quiet down for a few moments. As if, by doing so, Tetsuya might forgive me.”

“I see. Please, continue.”

Her bloody crusade quickly drew the attention of the Suzuki main house. But the arrogant family didn’t take her seriously. They didn’t believe the “ant” from a year ago could have become a threat. They sent two capable direct-line members to eliminate her.

The next day, their heads and limbs were found abandoned in the wilderness.

Enraged, Ritsu sent more. They were all systematically slaughtered, their bodies discarded like trash. Only after the third failure did Ritsu admit she was a grave threat.

The family mobilized everything: money, connections, mercenaries—all to kill one woman. It all failed. Faced with her overwhelming power, the Suzuki legacy meant nothing. Instead, she used the opportunities to trace their assets and allies, destroying them one by one.

The once-mighty Suzuki family began to wither. At a family council, looking at the half-empty seats, Suzuki Ritsu finally realized that his contempt for Ran Jiu’yi had brought them to the brink of ruin.

To fix his mistake and save his lineage, he decided he had to step onto the battlefield himself.