Identity Exposed (Part 2)

Could it be… You Dong is the magical girl Tidal?

“No way…”

Chen Xi shook her head violently, trying to shake the absurd idea from her mind. But the harder she tried to deny it, the clearer the evidence became.

Take the timeline: You Dong staged his own infidelity and broke up with her—right around when Magical Girl Tidal suddenly appeared. Too much of a coincidence? Maybe. But what about that day on Jixiang Street?

Chen Xi had seen You Dong disappear into a dark alley—then moments later, Tidal soared across the sky above her. Was that a coincidence too?

And if it was… why would an ordinary person rush to the scene the moment an aberration appeared? What was that flash of white light she saw before You Dong vanished?

Why was Tidal always near Raging Flame—aka You Xi? Why had she just called her “Xianjie”? Was it because the situation was so urgent that her old habit slipped out?

The more Chen Xi thought about it, the more certain she became. Finally, one decisive detail sealed it in her mind.

It was from that first time they’d met here, when the three of them had eaten together.

When Chen Xi made up an excuse and didn’t tell You Xi the truth about the breakup, she clearly remembered Tidal—until then silent, just eating fries—suddenly looking up at her.

Afterward, Chen Xi couldn’t recall Tidal’s expression. But for some reason, that moment had stuck with her.

Now, looking back, it was like a sixth sense guiding her toward the truth.

And now, with this revelation, that glance from Tidal slowly came into focus—like clouds parting.

It was a look of guilt and gratitude.

Tidal—no, You Dong—felt guilty for deceiving her.

And grateful… because she hadn’t exposed his “affair” in front of You Xi, sparing him humiliation.

…It all made perfect sense.

As the pieces fell into place, Chen Xi felt her mind go blank, a hollow whoosh in her head.

With disbelief, she stared at Tidal—fighting the aberration in the distance.

Tidal swung her weapon.

At the tip of her magic wand, magic particles coalesced into a one-meter-long beam of high-energy plasma. Like a lightsaber through tofu, it effortlessly sliced incoming tendrils in half.

This was a new technique she’d developed recently—same principle as her beam attack. But instead of firing the magic outward, she concentrated it on the crystal, creating a blade-like tool as precise and powerful as a high-pressure water cutter.

Using this for close combat allowed her to control the range and precision of destruction while conserving stamina and magic.

…All of that was a lie.

The real reason this technique was so great? It was incredibly, extremely, ridiculously cool.

Swinging this lightsaber made her feel like a Jedi Knight from Star Wars. Her inner middle-schooler roared with joy.

Tidal darted through the air, performing acrobatic aerial maneuvers like a dance. She dodged tendrils attacking from every angle, slicing each one down with precision.

Root-like tendrils fell one after another, the car display area drenched in foul-smelling green fluid—like a green hellscape.

“Can’t these things just die?”

Soon, she noticed a troubling fact.

No matter how efficiently she cut them down, new tendrils kept emerging from below. At this rate, she’d be the one to run out of energy first.

She quickly shifted tactics.

If the tendrils were rising from underground, the core was likely directly beneath this spot. If she fired a beam straight down, she could damage or destroy it.

With that plan, Tidal stopped engaging the tendrils and ascended higher.

The shopping plaza had a classic open-center ring design. For a flying magical girl, she could rise from the first floor all the way to the steel framework at the top.

Tidal estimated the average tendril only reached the third floor. If she flew higher, she’d have safe space to charge her attack.

But she underestimated the enemy.

As if reading her mind, the creature below sent up a dozen new tendrils—thin, long, and fast.

Only as thick as an adult’s arm, but longer, more flexible, and quicker. Even at the sixth floor, they caught up.

—…!

She felt her ankle wrapped, then her thigh, waist, arms.

The slimy, wet sensation on her skin reminded her of eels coated in mucus.

The physical and psychological discomfort triggered a massive magic release. She erected a high-cost magic barrier.

Instantly, the thin tendrils were vaporized by intense heat. But it wasn’t over. New ones surged from below, launching endless suicide charges.

At this rate…

Tidal felt a rare moment of frustration.

While the barrier made her untouchable, it also drained too much magic to charge a ground-piercing strike.

Attack or defend—it was a choice.

Just as she hesitated, Huangxing arrived with Lao Lin.

“Senior! I’m here to help!”

Huangxing called out as she entered the battlefield.

But she didn’t attack immediately. Instead, she scanned the area—searching for someone.

Most civilians had already fled. The first floor was empty. She quickly spotted her target.

You Xi sat on the ground, untransformed, eyes blank, lost in despair.

Seeing this, Huangxing’s face darkened—but she quickly composed herself and fired.

“Huangxing.”

During a lull in battle, Tidal called to her.

“Senior?”

“I need time to charge. Help me hold them off.”

Tidal hovered midair, glancing down.

Understanding her intent, Huangxing nodded.

“Got it! Leave it to me!”

Soon, three yellow, electrified arrows formed in her hands—her signature move from that night, the one that trapped Bai Mian in a lightning net.

“Hyaah—!”

She fired all three at the ground. But halfway, they exploded mid-flight.

A cloud of charged mist spread beneath them, forming a layer of yellow storm clouds.

The thin tendrils touched the mist—and were instantly fried by crackling electricity, collapsing lifelessly.

Seeing this, Tidal lowered her barrier and gave Huangxing a thumbs-up.

“Nice work.”

Now…

She raised her magic wand.