After skipping the headache-inducing weekend blind date, Feng Ling’s delivery speed picked up considerably.
“Women just slow down my money-making speed…”
Feng Ling said, humming lightly.
She placed the delivery bag on the railing of a security window and knocked.
Soon, a young woman in glasses poked her head out.
“Wow, it’s Magical Girl Feng Ling! I’m so lucky today.”
“It’s me. I’m taking a break to eat after this delivery… then I have to keep delivering tonight. So tired.”
Feng Ling was still playing the sympathy card, still wearing her payment QR code around her neck, still heavily hinting for tips.
“My little cutie, I’ll send you some money. Take the night off, don’t work too hard.”
Who could resist tossing coins at such a pitiful magical girl?
“Thanks, sis! I can finally rest well tonight.”
After receiving the tip, Feng Ling finally left, satisfied.
Weekend deliveries really paid well—tips included, she’d already earned nearly two thousand.
Too bad the Magic Girl Association was cutting her off; she could only make a little on weekends.
If only she could earn this freely every day.
Feng Ling stretched in the air.
After flying for hours, her magic power was almost depleted—time to head back and rest.
She turned and drifted lazily toward her rented room.
Eyes closed, floating midair, she went home by instinct.
She’d been zoning out, but the commotion on the ground made her open her eyes.
Looking down, a magical girl was fighting a demon beast.
The magical girl wielded a red longsword, locked in combat with the beast.
She wore a form-fitting black-red short robe with a dark red tactical belt at her waist.
Her long hair was tied in a high ponytail, and she kept deflecting the beast’s attacks with her sword.
Feng Ling recognized her—Magical Girl Chiyun.
She had more seniority than even Lian Ge, practically a veteran.
But she shouldn’t be on duty today.
Weekends were for student magical girls.
A veteran like her had no reason to be here.
Still, since the fight was on, Feng Ling couldn’t help but focus on the demon beast.
It was a giant rat, about the size of a small car—likely an ordinary rat turned into a beast by the concept of “Giantification.”
Its size was intimidating, but at heart it was still just a rat.
Its strength and speed were bottom-tier among demon beasts.
Feng Ling figured she could win easily.
Surely a veteran could too, right?
Having nothing better to do, she landed on the roof of a nearby apartment building to watch and learn.
But she quickly realized this Chiyun was much weaker than expected.
Against a giant rat with nothing but size, she was stuck in a stalemate, sweating buckets after fighting so long.
The battle dragged on.
The giant rat squeaked, dug its claws into the ground, and charged at Chiyun head-down.
Chiyun didn’t dodge.
She gripped her sword, bracing for a head-on clash.
Feng Ling thought she’d be like Lian Ge, able to tear down buildings with bare hands—so confident in melee.
But the moment they collided, Chiyun was sent flying, bouncing twice on the ground before stopping.
Her black robe was covered in dust.
Her red sword flew out of her hand and stuck into the ground three or four meters away, vibrating with a hum.
Seeing a colleague injured, Feng Ling leaped into the air to help.
But her peripheral vision caught something beyond the crowd control line, and she immediately sensed something off.
Behind the line was a dense crowd of Chiyun’s fan club, holding flags, banners, and glow sticks.
They were organized and disciplined, nothing like ordinary onlookers.
And despite Chiyun losing ground, the fan club wasn’t panicked.
No one frantically called for backup.
Instead, they cheered louder.
That made Feng Ling suspicious.
How could a magical girl this weak have so many fans?
Even weaker than me, yet way more fans.
Even a veteran shouldn’t have this many.
Sure enough, as Feng Ling was still on her way to assist, Chiyun, who’d rolled a few times on the ground, wobbled to her feet.
She stumbled two steps, lifted her head, and shouted toward the crowd control line in a hoarse but powerful voice:
“Everyone, can you lend me your strength?”
The fan club behind the line exploded like a powder keg, roaring like a tsunami.
“Go Chiyun!”
“We’ll always support you!”
“Lend you our strength!”
Their shouts rose one after another, and the red glow of their light sticks undulated like waves.
Chiyun took a deep breath.
Her black-red combat suit began to glow faintly red.
She straightened her back, flicked her loose hair back, and declared in a tone that sounded fully charged:
“Thank you all for your support. I feel… full of confidence!”
As she finished speaking, the red light on her body burst out, turning into blazing red flames.
It was as if the crowd’s shouts had enabled her to unleash such a big move.
Then, an instant later, Chiyun’s figure vanished from her spot—too fast for the naked eye to track.
Feng Ling only caught a dark red blur flashing across her vision.
Then Chiyun appeared behind the giant rat, back to the massive beast, making a motion of sheathing her sword.
The red sword that had been knocked away was somehow back in her hand, and she slid it into the scabbard.
With a soft click, a wound sliced clean through the giant rat’s midsection appeared.
A blinding red light flared at the wound’s edge, then flames erupted violently, spreading along the fur and engulfing the entire body.
The giant rat didn’t even let out a squeak before being burned to ashes in an instant.
The battle ended.
Chiyun turned around and waved at her fan club beyond the line, wearing a calm and modest smile.
She walked into the crowd, surrounded by fans, celebrating together.
“So she was acting.”
Feng Ling figured it out.
The girl was putting on a show.
After all, compared to effortlessly one-shotting a demon beast, a script of a hard-fought struggle, a tough battle, and a comeback fueled by fans’ cheers—that would generate way more buzz.
Not to mention the former might come off as bullying the weak.
Feng Ling wasn’t just projecting malice or spinning conspiracy theories.
But a veteran magical girl like Chiyun, skipping her weekend rest to fight a low-level beast like this—it was hard not to suspect it was a staged performance.
Having reached that conclusion, Feng Ling didn’t bother hiding her contempt.
“Two scabs, huh? One inflating her salary, the other inflating her performance?”
That was how it was among peers.
Feng Ling couldn’t help but sneer, lumping Chiyun in with Lian Ge.
But complaints aside, professional instinct made Feng Ling notice a practical issue.
Chiyun had so many fans—how did she monetize them?
Feng Ling’s own method was selling autographs and photos on the spot.
The benefit was fast popularity growth, but it was easily targeted by Lian Ge and the Magic Girl Association.
Chiyun clearly wasn’t on the same route.
Feng Ling pulled out her phone and searched Chiyun’s name online.
The first result was a link to a live streaming platform.
She clicked in.
The camera was positioned outside the control area.
Chiyun walked from the distance toward the lens, then stood in front of it and eagerly greeted the audience.
Her combat suit still bore traces of the fight—black-red fabric covered in dust.
But she patted it off casually, quickly getting into the groove.
She reported on the day’s demon beast extermination, repeatedly thanked her fans for their support, saying that support was what allowed her to defeat the beast.
Occasionally she glanced at the comments, picked a few questions, and interacted.
She had the vibe of a streamer.
But soon, Chiyun revealed her true intentions.
“Many of you have asked what to do when you get hurt fighting demon beasts. Well, I’d like to recommend an ointment to everyone.”
She pulled a white round jar from a small pouch at her waist and held it up to the camera.
“This is the Momo Ointment I use daily. It’s made with the latest magic technology, with quality control good enough for magical girls. It’s great for muscle soreness and minor injuries. I always use this after fighting demon beasts, and by the next day I’m almost fully recovered.”
She unscrewed the lid, dabbed a bit of the semi-transparent ointment on her finger, applied it to her scrape, then showed her clean hands, pointed downward, and said:
“The link is below the stream. If you need it, feel free to check it out.”
Feng Ling watched the real-time sales numbers next to the shopping link skyrocket, and couldn’t help but sigh:
“So she’s going the influencer product-promotion route, huh?”