The orders from Headquarters, especially those directly issued by the “General,” left almost no room for negotiation.
“Tian Aixing, first follow the procedure to release a bounty notice. Remind the citizens to watch out for any abnormal water traces or blue mucus-like substances, but do not cause panic. Emphasize that the target may be deceptive and recommend reporting immediately if found. Under no circumstances should anyone touch it themselves.”
“Understood,” Tian Aixing replied.
After hanging up the phone, Su Li looked at the three juniors before her, her expression grave.
“You’ve all heard the situation. Headquarters has issued an urgent order. Aoi Hoshino, Tian Aixing, and I must depart for Yun Jing immediately, for about a week.”
“A week?!” Lin Wan exclaimed. “But what about that strange Calamity?”
“That’s exactly what I need to entrust to you,” Su Li’s gaze swept over the three. “While I’m away, the alert and patrol duties in Tongmen City will mainly be handled by your ‘Nightingale’ squad.”
“Lu Yuan, this is on you.”
“I…?” Lu Yuan wanted to refuse at first, but she felt she couldn’t keep running away.
“Alright,” she agreed.
“Your mission is surveillance and tracking, not annihilation,” Su Li emphasized solemnly. “If you find any trace of that special Calamity, report it to me and Tian Aixing immediately.”
“But absolutely, absolutely do not provoke or try to capture it. This is an intelligent B-level Calamity with unclear intentions. Your top priority is ensuring your own safety and the safety of the citizens.”
“Yes!” Lin Wan and Chen Lianxue answered in unison.
Su Li then looked at Lu Yuan. “Lu Yuan, you have the strongest ‘feeling’ about it. Stay alert. If it tries to contact you again… attempts communication, do not get drawn in. Inform everyone immediately.”
Lu Yuan nodded firmly. “I understand.”
“I’ll finish up at Headquarters as soon as possible and return. In the meantime, contact me anytime if there’s an emergency,” Su Li said, turning sharply. “I’m going to meet Tian Aixing now. Take care of yourselves.”
Watching Su Li’s hurried departure, the atmosphere in the break room grew heavy.
***
Meanwhile, somewhere in the city.
Deep within the dark, damp sewer, a mass of faintly blue, viscous liquid quietly clung to the cold pipe walls.
It no longer flowed; its form had solidified, as if entering a dormant or contemplative state.
【Learning, requires more data, requires understanding, requires… form.】
Its body began to slowly writhe, delicate tendrils sweeping through accumulated sludge.
Suddenly, one tendril curled around something. Raising it up, it found a piece of semi-rotted, slightly stiff paper soaked by sewage.
【Foreign object, information carrier…?】
It pulled the paper closer.
Though blurred and faded, the patterns on the paper were still discernible: a human female with a bright smile, dressed in colorful clothing, against a backdrop of bright stage lights, alongside large printed words:
“New Model Competition Registration Open! Bloom with Your Beauty!”
【Standard human female, popular? Being watched?】
The slime carefully scanned every detail of the model on the poster: body proportions, hairstyle curves, facial features.
【Imitate, optimize, reorganize.】
The mucus composing its body gradually changed—its color fading from deep blue to warm human skin tones. Its form stretched out into the tall, slender curves of the model on the poster. The viscous texture solidified, mimicking silky hair.
After several minutes, a girl who looked about eighteen or nineteen stood in the sewage.
She had slightly messy, light green long hair, bright features, and a well-shaped figure, a perfect copy of the model on the poster. Only her eyes were hollow and unhuman, her skin too flawless—as if a delicate porcelain doll.
She looked down at her bare body, then compared herself to the fashionable clothes worn by the human on the poster.
【Incomplete, lacking external covering.】
Her gaze fell on a discarded black plastic bag in the distance.
The Disaster Girl walked over and rummaged through the bag for some discarded old clothes.
There was an oversized men’s T-shirt and a worn pair of jeans. She clumsily put them on. The clothes obviously didn’t fit, but provided the most basic coverage.
After some thought, she moved to a relatively clean puddle, raised her hand, and a sharp blue Water Blade shot out from her fingertips.
Using the reflection, she carefully trimmed her overly long and uneven hair, mimicking the hairstyle on the poster.
Snip by snip, strands of hair silently fell into the sewage.
Once finished, the Disaster Girl glanced at the flyer tossed into the sewage. After pondering, she picked it up and absorbed it into her body.
Then, she climbed up the maintenance ladder in the sewer, pushing open the heavy manhole cover.
The noisy city sounds and sunlight rushed in, momentarily making her squint.
The Disaster Girl emerged, standing at the bustling street corner, dazedly watching the flow of passersby.
Her oversized men’s T-shirt and slightly wet hair made her look like a lost, homeless girl, but her exceptionally beautiful face caught the attention of onlookers.
***
“New running shoes! You deserve them…” An adjacent big screen played a running shoe commercial, drawing her attention.
The Disaster Girl imitated the pose of the figure on the billboard, cautiously lifting a leg and trying to take a step.
Her movements were stiff at first, like a marionette stumbling, but soon grew smooth and natural, indistinguishable from an ordinary girl.
While she was still focused on practicing walking, her too-perfect appearance paired with the ill-fitting old clothes created a stark contrast—like a pearl mistakenly thrown into a wasteland, inevitably drawing various gazes.
Among those gazes were several young men lurking in the shadows of a street corner. Their eyes roamed over her with ill intentions.
“Hey, look over there, new face?”
“Not bad looking, just dressed shabby.”
“Let’s go, guys, show some ‘concern’ for the little lady.”
Three punkish youths with brightly dyed hair swaggered over, blocking the Disaster Girl’s path.
The leader, smoking a cigarette, struck a pose he thought was cool and cornered the girl against the wall.
“Hey, beautiful, alone? Never seen you before, you from out of town?” The punk looked her up and down with lecherous eyes.
The Disaster Girl only stared quietly at them, her hollow eyes showing no fear or disgust, only a pure, observational blankness.
She slightly tilted her head, as if trying to understand this new kind of social interaction.
Seeing her ignore them, another punk grinned and leaned closer. “Why so quiet? Mute? Tell us your name, make some friends?”
【Name?】
The Disaster Girl realized that humans seemed to have a code name, and she now needed an identifier for this new body.
She looked at the phone in the punk’s hand.
【Information input-output device.】
She reached out a slender finger and pointed at the phone.
The punk was momentarily stunned, then smirked. “Oh? You want brother’s number? Should’ve said so!”
He unlocked the screen and flaunted it in front of her.
The Disaster Girl didn’t respond to his flirtation, just took the phone.
Her movement was light, fingertips sliding across the screen, leaving a wet streak.
After thinking for a moment, she slowly and clearly typed a single character into the new contact name field:
【Qing】
Then she handed the phone back to the dumbfounded punk.
The gang exchanged glances, unable to process this.
This reaction completely defied their expected script—the girl didn’t scream in fear, didn’t scold in disgust, nor put on a cold attitude. Instead, there was only an eerie calm and a baffling name.
“Qing? What kind of name is that?” The leader frowned, feeling a bit played with. “And you didn’t even put your number! Hey, you messing with us?”
Qing just quietly stared at him, those too-beautiful but emotionless eyes making him inexplicably uneasy.
It seemed the Disaster Girl had completed the “name notification” social task and no longer chose to acknowledge them, turning to walk past the punks without a backward glance.
The punks watched her leave, momentarily forgetting to block her.
“Damn… weird,” muttered the punk holding the phone. He looked down at the lonely “Qing” on the screen, feeling like he had touched something completely beyond comprehension.
“Bad luck.” Shaking, he deleted Qing’s contact.