Chapter Thirty-Two: Lemon, the Hope of the Magical Girl!
The dress was free of any wrinkles, smooth and delicate, far surpassing the level of craftsmanship achievable by humans, clearly crafted by Tang Nai.
The deep purple hue was adorned with vibrant patterns, resembling the splendid nebulae of an infinite deep space, captivating to behold.
When it appeared on Irina, it instantly transformed the youthful aspects belonging to Sumu, replaced instead with a strong air of mystery.
If it weren’t for her flushed cheeks and the shy position of her leaning on the dining table, it might have seemed more fitting.
Moti Si’s breath grew increasingly hurried, her reaction becoming even more evident as her gaze wandered to Irina’s hips.
She gently brushed aside the obstructive hem of the dress, revealing Irina’s pink skin with red marks, cold air pouring in briefly soothing the latter. Still, she grew more nervous because—
Smack!
The sound was even crisper than before, accompanied by more intense cries, echoing throughout the entire café.
“Xiao Mo, why are you using magic? She can’t handle it.”
The teaching wand in Moti Si’s hand glowed eerily, appearing quite intimidating.
Unexpectedly, the delicate whip marks on Irina’s butt quickly faded, the area returning to a rosy hue as if she hadn’t suffered any blows at all.
“Hehe, it’s for healing.”
Ecstatic, Moti Si unconsciously covered her flushed cheeks, her speech once again becoming tongue-tied.
The crimson measuring rod had been discarded; filled with excitement, Moti Si instinctively summoned her magic weapon—now manifested in the form of the punishing wand.
“Everyone, let’s give it a try, after all, it’s not just me…”
Upon hearing Moti Si’s words, Lemon stretched her arm, eager to try, while Ye Wanjing secretly worried for Irina, her eyes flitting nervously.
I’m sorry, Wooden Mouse, I’ll try to be gentler later.
Smack, hiss…
Smack, um…
Smack! Ah!
Similar sounds began to ring non-stop, while Sister Lin on the first floor quietly closed the café door, preventing the commotion from leaking out, fearing it might be reported as domestic violence by the unaware.
Light, light, and heavy, alternating back and forth, Moti Si’s actions remained astonishingly rapid, while Lemon was merely playful and Ye Wanjing, filled with guilt, actually struck harder than Lemon.
Irina shot a resentful glance at Ye Wanjing, puffing her cheeks out.
Miti, just wait for me!
Suddenly, Sumu spoke up:
“Let me take a turn, you look like you’re struggling.”
“No need, just watch quietly… Ah!”
The punishment finally came to an end before dinner, and Irina lay there like a field plowed back and forth by a few sturdy buffalo, her entire body limp and her eyes blankly staring ahead.
“Alright, it’s your turn.”
Irina’s voice was as thin as a thread, softly leaving behind one last sentence before she vanished.
Sumu blinked and instinctively reached to touch her backside, but at that moment, all she felt was a chilly sensation, with not even a hint of lingering pain, as if everything had been taken away.
Irina…
Tang Nai suddenly popped up, gleefully giving Sumu’s backside a slap. The latter quivered and then bounced up, playfully pouting:
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing much, just thought that Sumu’s reaction would certainly be more interesting.”
That person definitely took the opportunity for a hit or two; could it be that the loudest cry from Irina was caused by her?
“Now, I forgive you, calling you Irina.”
Moti Si’s magic finally retracted, her expression returning to normal, and with her pink eyes even hinting at a touch of gentleness.
It was hard to associate her with the earlier demeanor.
“I’m Sumu, Irina is just a nickname…”
“Sumu? Sounds quite memorable.”
The person capable of counting and remembering how many words, sentences, and even punctuation marks Moti Si wrote is actually concerned about such things…
“I’m Shen Meling. The character 涼 is written like this, not very memorable.”
Shen Meling gestured, barely allowing Sumu to understand, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
The contrast is too stark!
“Hello, Xiao Sumu, I’m Lemon, my name is Gu Xiaobei.”
Saying this, Gu Xiaobei suddenly popped out from the side, extending her hand to Sumu, indicating a handshake.
Sumu dazedly took her hand, which was gently squeezed, making her blush unexpectedly.
After releasing her hand, Gu Xiaobei sported a mischievous smirk, her beaming smile leaving Sumu momentarily stunned.
The warmth of this lively girl lingered in her palm, making her feel uplifted.
Just like what I see on TV, she’s a comforting magical girl.
To be honest, from what I’ve seen so far, Tang Nai is a scheming bad woman, Miti is double-faced, and Moti Si is a headache… In short, none of them resemble what a magical girl should be.
L and Lemon serve as a refreshing stream among this group, firmly defending the last image of the magical girl.
No longer choking up, there’s still hope for our magical girls!
Wait, is there really hope? If I count myself, um, I probably wouldn’t qualify just yet…
“Having come back after such a long time, let’s treat you all to a nice meal.”
Tang Nai suddenly spoke, drawing everyone’s attention to her.
“But didn’t L say she wanted to stay alone for a while and then go back?”
“Then we can buy some ingredients and bring hot pot to her place.”
With a martial arts hall that large, there shouldn’t be any problem.
But Sumu quickly recalled that “Tang Nai” hanging in the middle of the main hall, battered and worn. She hurriedly bit her tongue, stopping herself from agreeing.
“No, no, let’s not do that. Eating over there would mean she has to clean up alone; it’s better to just call her over.”
If a few people just walked straight to the martial arts hall and saw L brutally attacking “Tang Nai,” it would definitely be quite awkward.
Upon hearing this, a meaningful smile crept onto Tang Nai’s lips, but she didn’t point it out, simply continuing.
“Then let’s find a good place.”
Meanwhile, at the martial arts hall, Luo Jialan was indeed pummeling the sandbag, but the simple face drawing taped to it was not of Tang Nai this time.
It depicted a woman with faint scars on her face, the art style appearing more juvenile compared to Tang Nai’s, the paper already tattered and fixed with tape many times, suggesting it was drawn much earlier.
“I didn’t expect you not to have completely rested yet.”
Luo Jialan held her breath, angled her body, and unleashed a powerful punch, sending the sandbag flying heavily.
“This time, I will personally obliterate everything that remains of you.”
