In the end, Ashley still paid up.
She had to shell out something for her own whitewashing PR campaign, after all.
After getting Ashley to willingly pay 40 pounds, Chloe also dumped the newspaper sales job on her—if she weren’t a reporter, she would absolutely make a qualified capitalist.
“Tsk tsk tsk, it’s all for your own good. The more papers we sell, the whiter you get—snow-white all over, with only a black heart! The best way to confirm the whitewashing effect is to check it yourself. Go ask the newsstands and paperboys if they want to stock more…”
Following her instructions, Ashley ran around for a full morning and was utterly exhausted.
To her delight, the first installment of the series sold like hotcakes. Every few steps, she encountered someone reading Exclusive Scoop on the Saint Dormer Community Grave-Robbing Serial Murders. There weren’t enough copies to go around, so several people huddled under the parasols of an outdoor café, sharing one.
The newsstands and paperboys all expressed willingness to increase their orders.
Although other papers had coverage too, most of the juvenile offenders were still on trial, so they could only interview peripheral figures who didn’t know the specifics. Their articles had low information density and couldn’t compete with Fountain News’s detailed reporting.
The opening of the series proved highly effective at drawing traffic, and the follow-ups would likely sustain the momentum, keeping the hot topic burning. As a result, advertisers swarmed in.
At noon, the paper met with advertisers for business talks at a fancy business banquet, where Chloe finally savored the dry-aged steak of her dreams.
After enjoying an appetizer of mozzarella salad and tomato-cooked lobster bisque, a sizzling dry-aged ribeye steak was served to the reporter loli.
Her knife and fork moved gracefully, thin lips parting lightly.
“It’s so-so,” Chloe said nonchalantly, squinting her eyes as her little mouth worked a few times, her pretty brows furrowing. “Was it aged long enough? Why does it taste sour?”
Ashley chewed on the medium-rare dry-aged ribeye, its rich, sweet aroma filling her mouth without a hint of sourness. She thought to herself, You little rascal, one day someone’s gonna beat you to death.
The pint-sized reporter loli had a silver tongue, describing the subsequent case developments in a twisty, captivating way—even Ashley, who had lived through it, found it more thrilling than her actual experience.
In the end, Chloe sold a full-page ad spot on the spot for 550 pounds, with smaller spots to be negotiated later, totaling an expected 1,000 pounds.
One thousand pounds!
Ashley grumbled inwardly. Those juvenile offenders had risked their lives committing crimes just to split a few hundred pounds. Glancing at Chloe, who was eating her steak, she earned a thousand pounds effortlessly with just a few words.
The most infuriating part was that it had nothing to do with her.
“You think that’s a lot? Hot poets these days charge 10 pounds per word for their nonsensical little poems!”
Chloe picked up her napkin, elegantly wiped her lips, and tossed it aside before continuing:
“This money will soon buy a new printing press, doubling your whitewash. I’ll even turn coal briquettes into soup dumplings for you.”
Hearing this eased Ashley’s frustration a bit.
—
[Training Base]
Ashley’s feet shifted as she constantly changed her center of gravity. Suddenly, her left hand shot out a side punch and retracted instantly.
Thud!
The sandbag swayed slightly.
Ashley loved the sense of identity that came with being a Tribunal agent, but it was on a countdown—it wouldn’t last much longer.
She hopped side to side, occasionally throwing punches. As her whole body exerted force, sweat shattered into tiny, glistening sparkles in the air.
At that moment, Amber approached from behind and called her name, but her tone felt distant.
Ashley turned her head. The two stood far apart, neither making a move to close the gap.
“Have you given it back?” Amber asked bluntly.
“Given what back?” Ashley feigned confusion.
Amber’s gaze grew increasingly disappointed, her lips trembling as she struggled to speak.
“I didn’t take that relic. Don’t slander me without evidence,” Ashley said, looking away.
Amber said nothing, just stared at her, but Ashley stayed silent too. The atmosphere grew tense.
Amber suddenly felt waves of cold wash over her body. The world ahead, including the blue-haired loli, turned unfamiliar. Tears welled up involuntarily, her nose stinging. She bit her lip hard to hold back the sobs.
No crying…
She was supposed to be strong, rarely crying, but ever since meeting her, she’d become a crybaby.
Amber knew this was weakness—unable to get what she wanted, she could only cry to garner pity…
“I’m so disappointed in you! I won’t come find you anymore!”
After shouting this with all her might, Amber turned and ran off, tears in her eyes.
Ashley didn’t chase her. Instead, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.
Once she’d locked in the logic of “I’m the prettiest, so I can’t chase,” she couldn’t lower herself to do it.
So, was Amber important, or was the Angel’s Kiss Mark important?
Neither.
What mattered was herself.
Ashley disliked Amber’s lecturing attitude. Irritation and grievance mixed in her heart as she turned and unleashed a combo of punches. Thud thud thud—the sandbag shook violently.
“Hmph, because I’m the prettiest, stupid lolis coveting my beauty will keep flocking to me like moths to a flame. I don’t lack them,” Ashley thought disdainfully.
She’d planned to train with Amber, but now she had to do it alone. It felt lackluster; her little fists smacked the bag weakly. She ended it hastily, showered alone, wandered the market with her dirty clothes, then took a cab back by herself.
What a rotten day. But what warmed her heart was Flora’s enthusiastic welcome.
“You look so happy,” Ashley said, blinking.
“The moment you open the door is the happiest part of my day,” the golden-haired loli replied, head lowered, cheeks flushing.
“Mine too.”
Ashley sat down, lit the stove, and set up the pot. She took fresh meat and vegetables wrapped in paper from the basket.
While Flora washed the veggies, Ashley dropped a pat of butter under the pot, watching it swirl and melt before laying in thin slices of beef. Sizzle—the aroma rose instantly.
Then, methodically, she added sauce and water, followed by vegetables and meatballs. The two lolis knelt by the pot, hands on knees, staring intently until it bubbled vigorously.
“I have a question,” Ashley said suddenly.
“Hm?” The golden-haired loli tilted her head, looking puzzled.
“If I became a street rat everyone wanted to beat, would you still stay with me?”
“If you’re a rat, I’ll be a rat too. We’ll steal cheese together, scurry along walls, live in a rat hole, huddle close—you squeeze me, I squeeze you, keeping each other warm. I’ll lick your fur with my little tongue, nibble your tiny tail with my little mouth, pet your little head with my paws. As little animals, that’s totally normal…” As the golden-haired loli spoke, her eyes sparkled with longing; she actually started looking forward to it.
Ashley’s lips curved into an involuntary smile. A stupid loli could never say something like that.
Over the next few days, she trained alone, attended criminal investigation lectures alone. She occasionally ran into Amber, but they passed like strangers, not speaking.
The last time, Amber stopped and called her name from behind.
Hmph, can’t even last a few days? Stupid lolis just can’t cut it.
Ashley suppressed her smugness but didn’t turn right away, quickly wiping the grin from her face.
When she did turn, she faced a calm, indifferent little face. It was like a bucket of cold water doused her; she couldn’t smile anymore.
Amber raised her wrist and pointed to the wristband. “The teacher says you don’t need to wear it anymore.”
Ashley gaped in shock. She felt no joy or relief—only panic.
“Th-then… what about the psych evaluation? Do I still need to go to your house?” Unaware of the humble tone in her voice, she asked.
“It’s over, Ashley. Everything’s over. Keep stealing, and we’ll meet in the interrogation room.”
Click. The wristband snapped open from the middle.
As relief washed over her wrist, Ashley felt as if something important had left her forever.
“Hey… don’t walk away so fast… I have things to say… Amber! Amber!”
