A Wretched Person

"Su Qing'an didn't hear that, did he?" Kiana muttered guiltily, suddenly struck by a bad feeling as she touched her well-developed chest.

"Whatever! So what if he heard? Su Qing'an can't beat me anyway. Countless Honkai Beasts have fallen beneath my twin guns. What can he possibly do to me? At most... at most, he might dock a little from my pay. I, Kiana Kaslana, would never bow for fi... fi what was it again? Right, I would never bow for the sake of five pecks of rice."

Using an idiom from Shenzhou that she had learned from Su Qing'an, Kiana nodded her little head and smiled with inflated confidence.

Then, having finished talking to herself, the girl headed toward the department store in high spirits.

In a dark alley barely wide enough for four people.

"Ugh..." Why had it come to this? She had already transferred schools and fled, yet the girl desperately suppressed the sobs in her voice. She turned her head to the side, unwilling to look at the man pinning her against the wall.

"Did you think transferring schools and running to another academy would let you escape?" The man's face was twisted into a ferocious mask by his sadistic urges and ugly malice. He laughed gleefully, as if watching a rabbit caught in a snare. "A doll should obediently continue being a proper toy!"

The man's breath, winding around her like a venomous snake, was especially clear against the girl's earlobe. She understood what she was about to face, and her body began trembling involuntarily with fear.

Then, the girl felt the world spin. A sharp pain shot through her back as the man violently slammed her to the ground.

"Riiip." The uniform of Senba Academy was torn almost completely open. The exposed pale skin made the three men's breathing grow heavier, and their unrestrained animal lust was chilling.

Tears spilled from her eyes. Unable to suppress her sobs, the girl began to pray. "Save me." Even those three simple words were so timid that she only dared pray them in her heart, not daring to say them aloud.

"Bang." It was the dull sound of something heavy striking the ground. The man pinning the girl down turned his head, only to see his companion already lying on the ground with someone's foot planted on his head.

She was a foreign girl with white hair and blue eyes. Standing around one meter sixty, she looked especially petite compared with the men, making the sight of her stepping on a man's head seem almost surreal.

Some idiot who likes playing the hero? the man sneered inwardly. Even after seeing his companion knocked down, the girl's beautiful face still dulled his senses. The object in his pocket made him feel completely at ease, certain that he couldn't lose.

"What a great day. I can't believe this kind of merchandise came right to my door."

So weak. Watching the several men charge over while cursing, the expressionless girl sighed inwardly.

Unhardened bodies. Discipline with no trace of training. Dagger swings thrown around without the slightest technique.

Third-rate.

No, they couldn't even be considered third-rate.

The weak only used violence against those weaker than themselves. The people before her were weak and ugly, both in body and in spirit.

She casually raised her foot and kicked one man precisely in the chin. The tremendous force and pain knocked him unconscious instantly.

"Bastard!" One of the men charged in and brought his dagger down with a savage expression.

The girl caught his arm without changing expression. Her seemingly delicate hand twisted with frightening force, and the crisp sound of breaking bone rang out. Before the man could react and begin howling, the girl's fist struck him squarely in the throat. Temporarily rendered voiceless, he lost the will to fight from the pain. After lightly adding a kick to his abdomen, only two people remained standing in the alley.

Shaken by the girl's strength, which lay far beyond the bounds of common sense, the man hurriedly drew a pistol. It was the only thing that could make him feel safe now.

"Don't come any closer... or I'll..." His words abruptly stopped. A blur was all that flashed across his retinas—the girl's leg.

The agony in his wrist told him that the only weapon leading to victory had already been knocked away.

The girl, her expression impassive, easily caught the spinning pistol in midair. Its hollow muzzle pointed at the man's head as she spoke her first words since entering the alley.

"Do you know how a gun is used?"

"Like this."

"Bang!" Without hesitation, the girl smoothly thumbed off the safety and fired.

The bullet tore into the wall beside the man's head. The sharp rush of air as it skimmed past his hair seared itself into his memory.

The girl's cold expression and utterly unhesitating movements conveyed one thing without a doubt:

She had no qualms about killing.

That beautiful face looked like a rakshasa come to claim his life, shattering his mind. But then the pistol grip slammed heavily into his temple, putting an end to his troubles.

"Clack." She casually tossed the pistol onto the ground.

Kiana picked up the shoulder bag she had thrown aside. After glancing at the disheveled girl in her torn clothes, she helplessly took off her hoodie and threw it over her, saying, "You should leave here as soon as possible too."

With that, she turned and left without looking back.

The girl instinctively hugged the hoodie, which still carried Kiana's scent. She stared at that retreating figure beneath the evening sky, dazed.

After a long while, Asakura Miyuki seemed to finally realize what had happened.

"I still don't know your name."