Chapter 31: Change into a Skirt and Increase Attack Speed!
“Hello, Rin!”
The girl in sportswear who was just complaining about her feet hurting is now energetically greeting the woman behind the counter. Upon hearing her melodious voice, the usually calm Rin rarely shows a hint of a smile.
“It’s Lemon, long time no see.”
Her footsteps create clear tap sounds on the wooden floor, but it doesn’t seem noisy; each step is like precisely hitting a note, producing a lively rhythm that seems to energize the surroundings and seamlessly blend into them.
In contrast, Moti Si still has her brows furrowed, seemingly entangled in the issue of her foot pain.
She appears to be the type who is not used to expressing herself, as even after Lemon walks several thousand steps in her boots, she remains silent. However, this discomfort is clearly reflected in her expression.
As the two approach the stairs, they quickly attract attention from below; the café usually has no customers, so these unexpected visitors are immediately noticed.
Ye Wanjing, whose mouth had just been feigning a carefree smile, now slightly stiffens, then coughs softly twice and puts on her heavy black frame glasses.
“Moti Si-senpai, and Lemon, you came at just the right time.”
“Uh, this is the so-called newcomer… Irina, right?”
Moti Si gently nods towards Ye Wanjing, then points her finger at Sumu, her dull pink eyes lacking any vibrancy.
“That’s right.”
Ye Wanjing adjusts her glasses and discreetly elbows Sumu.
Finally seeing all the female leads from her pen gathered together, Sumu feels a peculiar sensation; she takes a deep breath and prepares to introduce herself, but as soon as her gaze meets Moti Si’s, an unsettling chill runs up her spine.
An ominous premonition inexplicably arises; she feels like what’s reflected in the other’s pupils is not just a simple reflection but her own death.
“You, come here, to this place.”
Moti Si says this with an unemotional tone, pointing towards the dining table, and a faint flush suddenly appears on her otherwise pale cheeks, as if she’s forcing her inner excitement to show.
What does this mean?
Sumu’s sense of unease grows stronger. Her rationality tells her that if she really goes over, something bad will happen, but her instincts lead her to obediently stand up and weakly step forward.
If she doesn’t comply, something even more terrifying will surely happen.
Magical Girl Moti Si rarely appears in people’s sights, and even when she does, she mostly remains silent and expressionless.
The scenes of defeating monsters usually happen within a single frame, where a flash of red light appears, and the previously threatening monster immediately freezes, only to be shattered into countless neat little pieces with blood splattering everywhere.
What she possesses—such beautifully aesthetic looks—grants people infinite room for imagination.
She exists at a distance that can create beauty, with Moti Si being the farthest magical girl from the people.
Like a snow-white flower that can only be gazed upon from across a long river, pure, melancholic, and inevitably evoking expectations for its moment of becoming blood-colored beauty.
Sumu not only imagined similar scenes but also put them into writing, receiving overwhelming praise; the theme was incredibly simple.
The magical girl Moti Si, who refrains from desire, has a hidden side not known to the public!
Just the title is enough to ignite imaginations; people love contrasts, like monks breaking their vows, children in big cars…
“I remember you wrote about liking my unique side, didn’t you?”
It seems she harbors deep resentment for what Sumu wrote back then.
The current Moti Si is indeed behaving completely differently, saying things she might not have even said in a day before, but Sumu just feels scared.
“Sorry, I was wrong…”
Before the situation slips into a disadvantageous abyss, Sumu shows a contrasting side to her online persona—like a female demon finally yielding after being locked in a room day and night until her legs are weak and her body is faint.
“I know you were wrong, but wrongs must face punishment.”
At these words, the flush on Moti Si’s cheeks gradually spreads, her speech becoming smooth as she stubbornly continues to point towards the dining table, indicating Sumu to step forward.
Irina, I’m about to resemble you, save me!
Nervously, Sumu closes her eyes and steps forward cautiously, inching closer to the dining table, resembling a chopping board, and under Moti Si’s guidance, she leans over, arching her tender rear.
Unexpectedly, Sumu receives a reassuring reply.
“Let me do it, you step down.”
This substitution, Irina, what are you doing…
Wait, what are you here for?
“Don’t worry, I’m here to protect you.”
Protect?! You must not—
“An apology should have some sincerity, Little Sumu, just watch how I do it.”
Yet, Irina doesn’t change her gaze; she merely lies there obediently, even pressing herself tighter against the dining table, squishing her chest to deformation, further raising her rear into a very shameful posture.
“This is how an apology should look, not hesitating, worried about punishment; that’s just avoidance. This is the way, um—”
Smack!
With a sharp crack, a long object hits Irina’s rear heavily with a crisp sound, causing her to gasp in pain, her pupils suddenly shrinking to pinpoints.
“Ah…”
With just one hit, Irina’s thoughts are interrupted, generating an impulse to roll on the floor.
So painful! It feels like having a layer of skin scraped off by thorns, leaving a burning sting at the point of impact.
If one were to pull down her pants now, they would find a distinct red mark that is swelling up on her rear.
She can’t help but reach back with her hand to protect her posterior, but Moti Si seems quite displeased with this and forcefully grabs her hand, pressing it to the side, securing it with something unknown.
“Be good, don’t move around. Let’s get this punishment over with sooner; otherwise, when Nai sees it later, we’ll have to keep count for next time.”
Irina clenches her silver teeth, struggling to ask:
“How many strikes will it be?”
Moti Si’s blood-red ruler pauses slightly, seemingly contemplating the matter.
“One word for one strike sounds good. I’ve counted—without punctuation, there are a total of two thousand eight hundred seventy-three words. Uh, it seems I can’t finish it all today, so let’s stop at twelve and continue the rest at midnight.”
Did she really count? Over two thousand strikes? Even a magical girl wouldn’t be able to bear that; her rear would be ruined!
Just then, Tang Nai’s voice like a heavenly sound interrupts, stopping Moti Si.
“Don’t hold such a grudge, Little Moti. After all, two thousand strikes is still too exaggerated. No one would believe those things she made up…”
Moti Si looks forlornly at Tang Nai, remaining silent, and the latter deftly changes the subject.
“Anyway, considering her recent performance has been good, let’s ease up a little and change it to one sentence per strike.”
One sentence per strike isn’t right either!
Moti Si knits her brows slightly, thinks for a moment, then nods.
“Then it should be 191 sentences; we can finish before dinner today.”
Hearing this still outrageous number, Irina silently buries her head among her plushies, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
If only she hadn’t listened to Miti’s nonsense about writing that thing!
At this moment, Tang Nai enters Irina’s line of sight holding something, and her eyes briefly light up before trembling slightly.
Before her is a dark purple skirt that perfectly complements her one-of-a-kind witch hat.
Tang Nai’s eyes sparkle with cunning, seemingly tinged with a hint of… anticipation?
“Why don’t we change into skirts and continue?”
