When Ashley left Lodanmi Street 148, she did not take the Black Bone Vial with her.
From the perspective of acquisition difficulty, its importance was not that high.
She intuited that this was the family’s obedience training, a method they used to confirm control over their members.
Of course, Ashley would not foolishly obey others blindly.
Moreover, she realized that becoming stronger was more complex than she had thought, with “costs” that were an insurmountable hurdle.
Whether it was the sacrifices demanded by Singularities or the inhuman biological traits on Letisia and the Twin Stars, all indicated that power enhancement did not always bring positive psychological feedback.
One of the three fears—bodily destruction—included this kind of alienation. Why abandon being a soft, fragrant little loli to become an alien? It was a double blow to rationality and sensibility. Harder than getting stronger was convincing oneself to accept bodily destruction and overcome inner fears.
Was there a way to preserve a loli’s traits while growing stronger?
To resolve her doubts, she could only turn to learning.
In this regard, Fountain City housed the world’s largest library—the Miles Grand Library, a white-domed building on Toona Street with eight floors, all exterior walls made of floor-to-ceiling windows for excellent natural light, quiet and serene when not crowded.
After getting a library card, one could pay to rent books, increasing the borrowing limit with a deposit, up to twenty books maximum.
—
As Chloe had predicted, two days later, the Jenkins Family’s attack on the famous meteorological station and Ashley’s status as a Tribunal probationary investigator broke simultaneously.
A crime family member serving in the Tribunal was headline gold, fueling rampant conspiracy theories.
Someone raised the issue at the Hundred People Assembly, but the response was muted.
Though it stirred society into a frenzy, Union City was ruled by elites. All voting rights in the Hundred People Assembly were held by the top hundred airship captains, and in the eyes of these extraordinary powerhouses, the Jenkins Family matter had not yet warranted standalone discussion.
But Ashley suffered for it.
She had planned to sneak into the Tribunal to replace her tainted label, only for the family to pull off a massive stunt overnight, dragging her reputation down with them. Life was like that—absurdly comical.
Weather forecasts were usually ignored, but their absence was acutely felt. One couldn’t even time laundry properly; if rain came unexpectedly, wet clothes soured quickly, not to mention disruptions to work, travel, construction, banquets, agriculture… every industry felt the impact.
Ashley’s photo had appeared in the papers alongside Flora’s during the Onna Case, and she was strikingly beautiful, standing out in crowds with her highly recognizable cascade of sky-blue soft hair.
Now, she had to wear a hat outdoors, slinking along walls in shadows; exposure meant enduring passersby’s pointing fingers and dirty looks.
The Training Base was off-limits amid this storm; she could only hide.
—
Amber began to regret ignoring Ashley’s calls that day.
She had felt a secret thrill at the time, but upon reflection, she felt cruel. Even if Ashley had stolen something, she should have urged her to correct it, not tormented her with the silent treatment.
Those final shouts had carried panic and helplessness, but Amber was caught up in vengeful pleasure—the less she responded, the better it felt, and she overdid it without looking back.
Later, out of curiosity, she asked her teacher if Ashley had definitely stolen the Angel’s Kiss Mark.
Letisia replied that there was no conclusive evidence; they had to question all the juvenile offenders first. Until then, Ashley was merely a suspect, and not even the prime one.
The reversal slapped Amber across the face, burning with shame.
What if Ashley was innocent…
Unthinkable…
How heartbroken and helpless she must have felt that day, abandoned by her friend when she needed one most…
Amber paced like an ant on a hot pan.
“I’m going to lose her… I’m going to lose Ashley…”
She spread her trembling fingers, as if watching mystical, gorgeous blue fine sand slip through the gaps, or a dreamlike blue butterfly perched on her fingertip fluttering away…
She wanted to test Ashley’s attitude, but the girl hadn’t shown up at the Training Base for days.
Several times, she approached the community to see her but hesitated at the door, standing for ages without the courage to step inside.
—
Ashley did not resent Amber out of pettiness; rather, anyone associating with her now would get caught in the public’s wrath via splash damage.
Most critically, she had taken the Angel’s Kiss Mark, so she couldn’t stand tall psychologically.
But these were minor issues. The priority was restoring her reputation.
From her past life’s gaming experience, though her regional reputation was now pitch-black negative, it wasn’t irredeemable hostility; it could be grinded back up.
—
[Newspaper Lounge]
Chloe propped her chin on her small hands, eyes narrowed in sly amusement, gloating:
“Yo, isn’t this Ashley? Haven’t seen you in days, and you’ve tanked this hard?”
“Ironically…”
Though she wanted to give the reporter loli a good scolding, Chloe was one of the few still willing to help.
Fine, endure it.
After Ashley shared her reputation-grinding idea, Chloe pondered with her head down for a long moment before looking up:
“To boost favorability, helping grannies cross the street citywide won’t cut it—too ordinary, too common, no one notices. You need ‘bizarre good deeds’ for marketing impact.”
“Bizarre?”
“For example, two filial people: one buys a fish to stew soup for mom; the other strips naked, melts a hole in the ice with body heat, fishes one out, and takes it home to stew for mom. Which spreads farther?”
“So, do good deeds with marketing flair? Sounds a bit unscrupulous.”
“Listen,” Chloe leaned forward, hands on her chair, “the world is full of fame-chasers. Yield an inch, and they’ll swarm like monkeys grabbing fruit—ugly as it looks, once they snag it, they strut like kings of the jungle, becoming social elites and premium citizens, while you get stuck with a ‘fool’ hat and nothing else.”
The reporter loli was born with gifts for rhetoric and sophistry, silver-tongued and mischievous.
Ashley had no doubt that with her tongue’s dexterity, Chloe could extract the glass bead from a Pop Soda.
Chloe’s info network was vast; soon, she dug up a chance for a bizarre good deed.
“The farms in the southern Red Rock Wasteland were attacked by a giant Mutated Wriggler. Several hunting teams failed to take it down and lost members instead. If you slay it and haul the corpse back for display at the Slanted Street Museum, it’ll cause a sensation. You know city folk—pigs with nothing better to do, loving freakish tales, the weirder the better. You’ll ride the hype wave, split museum ticket revenue, and I hear this worm’s head is a rare shield-machine shape, perfect for tunneling. Turned into a Cadaver, its value is unimaginable!”
Ashley considered it—a solid idea, and she knew the Slanted Street Museum’s Curator, Mavis Spind.
But she didn’t act rashly. First, she retrieved potentially useful relics from the family secret room, like 0092 “Insect Bean,” 2217 “Alarm Cicada,” and others.
Insect Bean was made from algal plant fibers; pressed on a wound, it ruptured on contact with blood, rapidly expanding its fibrous layer, delving into the wound edges to staunch bleeding and protect the injury.
Alarm Cicada was a warning device; buried in soil, it emitted a piercing high-frequency buzz at the slightest ground vibration.
“You’re coming too?”
Ashley looked at Chloe in surprise. The reporter loli had changed into a practical vest, jeans, laced boots, and a baseball cap—obvious intent.
Her hair was already short; under the hat, only curled strands dangled by her ears and forehead, accentuating her delicate, refined little face. Without the sidelong smirk, she looked pretty cute—a lively, energetic loli full of vim.
“Of course! Gotta experience it firsthand for killer news.”
“Hmph, I won’t have energy to protect you. Get swallowed by the Mutated Wriggler, and you’ll end up as unrecognizable chunks in its shit, just a mouth left.”
“You jerk, mocking me! Notorious Ashley! Short for Stinky Ashley! That’s your nickname from now on!”
“Aren’t you the scandal-ridden Chloe? Pot calling the kettle black.”
“Heh heh heh, then let’s gleefully team up as partners in crime!” Chloe covered her mouth, smirking sidelong, wiggling nonstop.
Though the bratty girl was annoying, Ashley found her far easier to deal with than Amber. No one policing from the moral high ground—just two lying flat in the depraved pit together. Comfortable. Maybe that was the appeal of bad lolis.
