Los Angeles Court.
The courtroom atmosphere was somewhat stifling, solemn and heavy, dead silent.
Senator Miller in the gallery frowned, showing slight tension like many upper-class figures witnessing defendant Quincy's interrogation. But as the protagonist, he remained composed and silent, letting lawyers answer everything. After verbal sparring, the judge announced today's trial concluded.
Third time—delays continued. Everyone acutely felt various forces' competition causing court postponements.
As the judge's verdict fell, Gallup immediately welcomed his superior. They left laughing and talking, obviously completely unmoved, even disdainful.
Miller sighed deeply.
His reaction was keenly noticed by Quincy. The military-uniformed man about to leave turned back with a faint smile. State senators and disreputable mercenary companies had long-standing grudges without breaking—this time mutually disgusting each other again.
Leaving the courtroom, Miller met his wife Julia at the entrance.
"Being your longtime opponent definitely takes skill—mere illegal experimentation or kidnapping charges can't topple him."
"This time is different... So you didn't know who commanded this trial?"
Julia shook her head.
"Many unclear guys think it's General Josh establishing authority after promotion—this tests whether news is informed or if you count as insider. Hmph, they don't know post-catastrophic battle victorious Hyacinth pressured military to make magical girl persecutors pay. Result as you see—this became our confrontation opportunity."
Hearing this, Julia was slightly stunned, not expecting such secrets. Salvation Church Leader's single sentence triggered political cases causing serious military-mercenary opposition!
Hard not to suspect whether that prophetic figure deliberately guided things.
"Any investigation results?"
Miller shook his head: "Those advertisers were just shell companies—continuing investigations yielded nothing. Probably my communication with Elsa was inaccurate, causing mistakes. Unfortunately she's not domestic..."
"Better this way, or I can't imagine what happens if our daughter gets threatened." Julia leaned on his shoulder worriedly.
The couple thinking of mercenary group scandals couldn't help breaking—constantly kidnapping or assassinating. No life left? Scholars meeting soldiers can't reason through.
Seeing trials hopeless, they strode away. Currently the courthouse was crowded with numerous staff discussing Quincy's trial case. After all, Mercenary Alliances appointed ultra-luxurious lawyer teams—what should have gone through military tribunals was forcibly twisted to state court trials with prosecution facing difficulties.
"Our defense goal is acquittal—"
Eagle Company's lawyer team leader waved arms at media, swearing confidently and arrogantly.
"Not only that, we'll clear our client's wrongful accusations. Those who splash dirty water with impure political motives will face punishment."
As Miller passed by, the lawyer said quietly—both briefly met gazes then turned away with frosty faces.
Sworn to fight to the end.
They'd staked not just career lives but more importantly case involvement was significant—pulling radishes brought mud. If Quincy's case became precedent, wouldn't that mean prosecuting large mercenary companies one by one into prison? Was there law? Was there reason?
Both were just collective interest will incarnations of respective forces—personal grudges irrelevant, overall situations paramount.
A strange car stopped at the courthouse entrance. If not for the driver being Julia's female secretary's familiar face, Miller would almost duck down. He looked puzzledly at his wife: "Why change cars?"
"I prepared 4 identical-looking cars for random selection. You're doing dangerous things—I'll help as much as possible."
As soon as she finished, groups of passersby and reporters surrounded them.
They clamored questions like "Heard you advocated airlifting executives to Eagle Company," "According to investigations, many people still dislike magical girls—why promote rights bills," "Can you reveal today's trial details," bombarding him.
Bang!
Someone carried hard objects knocking car doors, scratching paint. Seeing this, Miller quickly reached out protecting his wife's head, observing surroundings then breaking into cold sweat.
Attacking senators in broad daylight at state courthouse entrances while bailiffs turned blind eyes also dismissed his thoughts of retreating.
Miller witnessed several hands in surrounding crowds tightly gripping sharp knives. In mutually pushing situations unable to open car doors—the predicament was desperate: "Fucking hell, you want to create Caesar's death?"
Suddenly several figures flew backwards from crowds, rolling before bailiffs along with knives and guns.
Incredible scenes shocked everyone.
The female secretary slowly withdrew her foot, pushed sunglasses, and pointed: "They attempted assassinating senators—caught red-handed. Court now, swift and strict."
Opening her mouth exposed complete lack of legal knowledge, but everyone seemed driven by mysterious pressure, scattering. Bailiffs who'd previously disdained senators trembled while handcuffing suspects. Would-be assassins simply stiffened, frothing at mouths and fainting. Strange atmospheres lingered around state courthouse entrances as several keen mental power scans swept over.
Miller acted as if nothing happened, calmly entering rear seats: "Miss, please sit up and floor it. We have no destination—run with full effort."
"Roger."
The secretary rubbed her face, becoming another appearance, then opened doors gripping steering wheels, flooring gas pedals with engines roaring like beasts.
Her driving style was like being accustomed to armored cars—bold and unrestrained, arbitrarily weaving through Los Angeles traffic, stretching scenery like streamlines.
Bulletproof modifications plus large chassis Cadillacs sped away. Rearview mirrors showed several cars accelerating to catch up, unfortunately only chasing minutes before being left far behind. This wasn't filming movies—lacking superhuman reflexes and dynamic vision, rapid weaving through traffic equaled suicide.
Rear seat couples pulled safety belts tight throughout while still bouncing up and down, shaking heads, celebrating they hadn't eaten too much breakfast.
After speeds slowed, everyone sighed in relief.
Sensing violations, Julia gripped her husband's hand tightly. Comparatively, Miller remained calm, saying quietly: "Your Excellency, as my lifesaver, won't you introduce yourself?"
"Senator, it's not safe yet. Don't you have trustworthy places?"
The female secretary glanced at interior rearview mirrors, unfortunately sunglasses obscured her gaze.
"Can't go to the state government, but my private office is a safe house with trustworthy bodyguards. Slower, I'll tell you directions..."
Whoosh!
Breaking air sounds whistled over—rocket projectiles hit bulletproof cars, raising fireballs.
Since Cadillac modifications currently drove through relatively open city park areas, assassins unhesitatingly fired rockets, regardless of shrapnel—just explode first. With loud booms, surrounding civilians scattered like birds and beasts.
Four off-road Hummer vehicles blocked burning, twisted wreckage. Dismounting people wore plate bulletproof vests carrying M14s, covering each other's advances.
Clang!
Burning, twisted car doors fell on grass—inside was completely empty.
Assassins looked at each other bewildered. Though masked with goggles preventing seeing expressions, confusion was palpable. Why were previously confirmed occupied cars now empty shells? Substitution possibilities existed. Seeing this, team leaders used radios while subordinates carefully checked wreckage before returning to Hummers.
Before leaving, captains looked up at the skies by ghostly compulsion. Currently Los Angeles had clear skies but one huge cloud covered—vaguely felt people screaming.
Finally he didn't investigate, simply driving away.
Above clouds.
Golden dragons circled in high skies, broad backs carrying Miller and Julia—they continuously screamed.
Facing completely unprotected true flight, what feelings? Besides grasping scales, no safety existed—spinning dizzy, universe toppling, oneself like broken plastic bags. Sky weightlessness wasn't complete—having to rely on such massive beings inevitably evoked primitive fears. Dozens of meters of mighty creatures made ordinary beings prostrate—maintaining consciousness was blessing enough.
Jin Yulu hid in clouds overlooking ground, confirming no more attacks before slight relief.
Fortunately previous instant reactions were fast—otherwise casualties might have occurred. Both ensuring personnel safety while maintaining secrecy made Hibiscus's mission quite challenging.
But she wouldn't disappoint her.
"How are your conditions? Can you move?"
"Don't worry, should be fine." Speaking, Miller smiled faintly: "Actually dispatching Lady Edelweiss as bodyguard—Lord Hyacinth really thinks highly of me."
Identification code Golden Dragon Emperor—as one of initially active magical girls, truly thunderous reputation. Besides, she was most recognizable. Looking worldwide, who didn't recognize endless golden dragons?
Each appearance varied lengths, keeping people guessing, but strength was absolutely unfathomable, comparable to armies.
Magical Girl Edelweiss should belong to Salvation Church backbone. According to psychological profiling, military background, decisive actions, relatively harmonious official attitudes—negotiable.
Miller understood everything in lightning moments. Seems his daughter's guidance alerting enemies brought rewards—truly critical moments. Without such powerful protection today, definitely nine deaths one life. If he and his wife died, what about Elsa?
Damned mercenaries!
Currently Miller's anger overcame altitude fears.
"Economically developed states' veteran senators aren't simple. The Church is happy making friends with future cooperation opportunities. Plus your daughter should relate to magical girls, right? Additionally, I won't investigate too deeply now since her information has dangers, doesn't it?"
Hearing this, the couple's expressions darkened. Though anticipated, hearing this was still surprising.
They knew their daughter's abilities—didn't expect mysterious protections being detected. Opponents seemed understanding Elsa's magic mechanisms—worthy of prophets.
"Speaking of business, given current situations, what do you plan? Actually I don't rule out Holy Relic interventions."
"Not going to safe houses." Miller's eyes blazed determinedly: "I trust Your Excellency's strength, more unwilling to abandon once-in-lifetime opportunities from mercenary-Church cooperation. I should go to the state government, but I want to hear your opinion, Julia."
"I also trust the Salvation Church. Indeed should show faces before the media, telling our daughter not to worry too much—mind her own business."
"So you've both decided?"
The couple nodded.
"Good courage!" Jin Yulu suddenly dived through clouds toward state government.
They traveled to Sacramento, named after Spanish islands. This place bordered Oregon north while accessible to Mexico—possessing world's best suitable regions. Sunny with rain, economically developed, neighboring Pacific Ocean undertaking massive international trade. By fiscal volume alone, California counted as the 6th largest economy. Compared to fully alerted Los Angeles, this place seemed much quieter.
Jin Yulu found secluded city outskirt corners to land, rented cars, driving to destinations as usual—smooth throughout.
Despite this, the rear seat couples' nervousness. Repeated ordeals weren't easy for ordinary people, but enduring pressure while remaining rationally active further proved reliability. This trip wasn't wasted.
Two hours later, the state government.
Senators arriving leisurely at entrances immediately caused shock. During this period, assassination cases were spread everywhere—yet you appeared here unharmed?
Miller rolled up sleeves checking wristwatches: "Ladies, gentlemen, spare time organizing press conferences? I swear by God's name—masterminds behind assassins trampling United States dignity will pay painful prices."
"Senator, Madam, plus this secretary lady, please come in quickly. Everyone's waiting."
Sure enough, he perfectly met reporter groups surrounding state government. Instantly clicking shutters accompanied flashlights—universal attention.
Perfect timing—Miller intended this.
Honestly, aerial hitchhiking was faster than imagined, even having spare time renting cars then deliberately delaying for news fermentation. Understanding marketing, he knew best creating reversals, crises, returns, etc.—portraying himself as victims plus adding service-to-country halos was perfect.
Facts proved completely correct. Reporters witnessing senators' miraculous survival were more excited than himself—undisputed national headlines booked, even worldwide attention.
Miller looked back at his wife and bodyguard—both smiled and nodded. Currently he was passionate and powerful.
Weathered, even disheveled men completely changed usual public images, simply removing coats and loosening ties, not hiding expensive suits' charring. Under public gaze, he climbed podiums.
Yet he remained silent long.
Until people almost couldn't wait, he spoke: "Everyone, honestly speaking, I almost met God just now."
"But obviously I still have unfinished business. I love my family, my friends—not yet time for divine summons. I'm clearer about another thing: if I died so easily, certain guys would continue being arrogant, even escalating. Yes, some private military contractors are approaching loss of control—they're evolving into terrorists. I came here to declare war—"
Fireworks Island.
Disaster Beast remains transport scenes—open beach environments actually displayed televisions broadcasting eye-catching senator assassination cases.
Since letting outsiders handle things easily brought infectious diseases, Hibiscus, Nan Zhiyi, and Jin Ruochu were busy categorizing materials—all processed returns to buyers, top-grade goods. But the girls unanimously stopped watching news:
Screens showed Miller's emotionally charged speeches with infectious power, seeing Jin Yulu's dashing figures.
Though politicians always had louder voices than anyone while poor implementations, this time he seemed quite uncompromising—or rather, peace prices would be high.
Nan Zhiyi covered her ears: "His voice is so loud—want to run for president?"
Jin Ruochu spread her hands: "Which senator doesn't?"
"Too high-profile. Indeed Captain Jin can only protect, but preventing targets from saying too much can't be done. Actually I think clear position-taking will cause the Church to lose certain flexibility. Miller is binding us to battlefields—he's not easily obedient. What do you think, Hibiscus?"
"Doesn't matter. Being somewhat self-centered beats overly performative idiot politicians. Plus strong people never consider which side to take—existence itself is value."
Hibiscus crossed arms watching TV screens with calm faces, unmoved.
Plans proceeded smoothly.
From sharp rhetoric perspectives, Miller produced intense vocabulary not degrading dignity—seeming furious but discounting these words at least 30%, true meaning was making mercenary groups sit down for dialogue. Look, your assassinations failed while causing trouble—giving you chances to chat, otherwise mutual destruction. Now prestigious, popular, influential veteran senators could stake more chips for gambling.
The Salvation Church indeed provided certain help—this couldn't withstand investigation nor needed investigation. Competitors could guess, but would mercenaries directly declare war on both?
If magical girls cooperated with official forces, mere Mercenary Alliances could be dismantled quickly. So they'd still choose wooing or ignoring—tripod confrontation situations remained unchanged.
They'd gradually test results: actually the Church only supported Miller personally.
In summary, situations wouldn't undergo major upheavals.
Hibiscus said coldly: "Maintain contact, let Captain Jin watch Senator Miller. The rest he'll handle himself. Our protection isn't forever but giving him comeback opportunities—also tests. Can't survive means no cooperation value."
Hearing this, Nan Zhiyi called Jin Yulu texting—this order also reflected Church current positions.
After hanging up, she asked: "Thought about next actions?"
"Edo will have incidents—relatively serious virulent infectious disease events. I'm considering whether to participate... This involves military, mercenaries, and magical girls."
Casually mentioning actually had them!
Seeing this, Jin Ruochu and Nan Zhiyi were slightly stunned, thinking worthy of Time Prophecy—apparently already grasping subsequent events. For strategic planning and winning decisive victories from afar, no one was clearer than Hibiscus.
However, one concerning point deserved attention—if involving various faction forces, it indeed tested balancing abilities. Making things too big didn't serve interests.
"Don't mind—I'll go check things out then." Nan Zhiyi rarely volunteered: "My magic is more stable and can somewhat control battlefield scale."
"Good idea, besides we already have plenty of people in Edo."
After Hibiscus decided, the three continued busy work. After all, with the Salvation Church's current scale, they needn't concern themselves with everything like governing a nation. Their hard power and influence were completely mismatched, so actually few matters existed. Though slight actions influenced shocking North American assassination cases making Mercenary Alliances hesitant, that was the limit—no power or desire to go further.
TV news coverage of Senator Miller's speech ended, programs switching to other related intelligence:
"Regarding Eagle Company dispatched officials' attack incident, new evidence found—perpetrated by a small mercenary company"
"Reportedly, the case has new eyewitnesses"
"How did Mr. Miller survive rocket attacks? Or did he never board that car? We don't know, but undoubtedly this feels miraculous"
"Following Senator Miller's appeal, 102 enterprises and individuals have filed lawsuits against implicated mercenary companies..."
So far, the Salvation Church's force application was perfectly timed. Actually you didn't need overturning clouds and rain—just choosing optimal moments for gentle pushes making chessboards come alive. Conspirators confident of assassination success were definitely disgusted.
Hibiscus now didn't expect upheavals but applying force at key points.
Assassination completely failed.
Continue? That meant complete declarations of war—losing righteousness while flipping tables and causing trouble, becoming universally hostile. Only killing most symbolic figures at critical moments could create good effects. Once not dead, originally prepared Miller erosion actions had to abort with entire arrangements stillborn.
Continuing assassinations now, even if successful, would benefit others. Besides, this guy's death would never allow true defeat—probably canonized on spot, becoming resistance banners.
Mercenary alliance tops were Holy Relics, but middle-low levels had massive businesspeople who wouldn't allow chaos. Hard approaches didn't work—must think otherwise. At least superficially seemed turbulent, even settlement funds required major bleeding.
Television even broadcast Quincy's trial recordings, choosing seemingly concluded angles rather than arrogant expressions on his face.
Seeing such spring-autumn writing styles, Hibiscus wanted to laugh.
She understood this guy not saying "stop your nonsense" to judges counted as good attitudes—how could embarrassed performances exist? Eighty percent was media secretly blowing winds.
Actually the Church didn't specifically target mere mercenary companies. Even previously persecuted magical girls calmed anger after Senior Hyacinth thoroughly dealt with enemies. Besides, we defeated high-tier Disaster Beasts, repelled Catastrophic Disaster Beasts—why cling to hatred? Insignificant. Dare provoke again, completely kill you—so commonly understood magical girl revenge didn't exist. Outdated bosses inferior to dogs—Quincy could no longer threaten.
Hibiscus instructing Josh to prosecute equaled Miller assassination cases—toppling symbolic figures to release signals.
But now none of that mattered—understand however you self-flattered.
The silver-haired girl no longer focused on television's noisy sounds, replaced by surging tides. Fireworks Island in Ningfeng Harbor territorial waters swayed with waves—at least it remained peaceful and serene.
Current priorities: storing as many processed Disaster Beast materials as possible to Hermit Island so spatial relics could be used anytime. Definitely would be very busy ahead.