“Sister Sirin,” March 7th blinked her large eyes, naturally adopting the newly acquired title of “Sister” as she began to ask, “Have you seen a…
well, a black-haired man nearby who looks cold and expressionless?”
“You mean Little Azure Dragon?” Sirin said in a flat tone, as if speaking of something perfectly ordinary.
“Li-Little Azure Dragon?” March 7th froze for a moment.
In her mind, she quickly compared Dan Heng’s typically serious demeanor with the somewhat…
uh, cute nickname “Little Azure Dragon,” and found that it actually fit quite subtly.
“It seems…
perhaps…
it’s about right?”
“Hmm…” Sirin seemed to think for half a second before adding, “Let’s add ‘Cold-faced’.
Cold-faced Little Azure Dragon.”
“Right!” March 7th immediately clapped her hands, deeply agreeing.
She felt this nickname was tailor-made for Dan Heng.
“I also think this fits Dan Heng perfectly!
He’s cold, handsome, and strong!”
“So, Sister Sirin,” she returned to the main topic, looking expectant, “do you know where he went?”
“Fight Club.” Sirin was concise.
“Fight Club?” March 7th tilted her head, a bit confused.
“Yes,” Sirin nodded and explained, though her tone remained devoid of fluctuation.
“He said he needed to gather intelligence and local currency.
Since that club happened to be hosting an event, and I saw that his…
martial arts skills seemed decent, I recommended he go there to try it out.”
“Oh, I see!
So that’s how it is!” March 7th suddenly realized, feeling this was very much in line with Dan Heng’s style of doing things—solving problems in the most direct and efficient way.
“That’s definitely something he would do!”
“Haaah~”
Just then, a yawn filled with a satisfied sigh came from the clinic entrance.
The two looked toward the sound and saw Stelle rubbing her eyes, slowly walking out of the clinic with a touch of post-sleep laziness on her face.
“Hey!
Stelle, you’re awake?” March 7th’s eyes lit up, and she immediately went to greet her.
“Yeah,” Stelle nodded, stretched, and loosened her somewhat stiff shoulders.
Her tone carried a strange sense of satisfaction.
“That was a good sleep.
It’s my first time out on the Trailblaze, and I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep last night.
Her gaze naturally fell on Sirin beside March 7th, and a flash of confusion crossed her eyes.
“Hm?
Who is this…” Stelle scrutinized Sirin, her brows slightly furrowed as if trying hard to recall.
“You look so familiar?
I think I’ve…
seen you somewhere before?”
She subconsciously circled Sirin halfway, scanning her face, hair color, and unique attire more carefully, but her mind just couldn’t grasp any clear memory fragments.
Only a vague sense of familiarity lingered, refusing to fade.
“But I just can’t remember when I saw you…” Stelle muttered, feeling a bit distressed.
Sirin crossed her arms, watching quietly as Stelle circled her, looking lost in thought, while thinking to herself:
(How could I not be familiar?
I am your “Auntie,” and I was the second person you saw when you woke up.)
(But it seems that because your consciousness wasn’t fully awake when you first woke up, combined with the series of shocks that followed, that brief memory got blurred…?)
At this moment, Stelle’s attention was drawn to the clearly visible, delicate joints on Sirin’s arms and neck.
It was as if she had discovered a new continent; she curiously leaned in closer, even extending a finger as if wanting to poke them to confirm the texture, while muttering:
“Is this…
a puppet like Herta’s?
Or is it something more advanced…”
“Stop, stop, stop!”
March 7th was quick-witted and grabbed Stelle’s restless wrist, pulling her back a little.
She educated her with some exasperation: “Although having this much Trailblaze spirit is great!
You can’t just go around touching people without their permission!
That’s very impolite!”
“Sorry, Sister Sirin,” March 7th turned her head to apologize to Sirin on behalf of her companion, looking a bit embarrassed.
“My friend here just woke up, and her brain might still be a little foggy.
Please don’t mind her.”
Being told this by March 7th, Stelle realized what she was doing.
She immediately stood straight, pressed her palms together, and made an apologetic gesture toward Sirin: “Sorry, sorry!”
However, the curious glint in her eyes didn’t fully extinguish; clearly, the little thought of “exploring this puppet for herself” was still secretly brewing.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Sirin waved her hand, indicating she didn’t mind.
She looked at the two of them and calmly suggested:
“You’re looking for that Cold-faced Little Azure Dragon, aren’t you?
Since I don’t have anything to do right now, I can take you there.”
“Really?
Thank you so much, Sister Sirin!” March 7th thanked her happily, thinking this newly met sister was really nice.
“Grr——”
A long, loud, and even echoing stomach growl suddenly emanated from Stelle’s stomach, breaking the harmonious atmosphere that had just been established.
The air went silent for a moment.
Sirin and March 7th’s gazes turned in unison toward the source of the sound—Stelle.
Stelle: “…Ehehe?”
She tried to muddle through with an innocent and slightly silly smile, but she couldn’t stop a faint, embarrassed blush from rising on her face.
“Th-this can’t be blamed on me!” Stelle tried to defend her uncooperative stomach, her eyes wide and her expression carrying a hint of grievance.
“I haven’t even had time to eat breakfast yet!”
The more she spoke, the more “reasonable” she felt, and she even began to complain: “That Supreme Guardian suddenly sent people to pick us up.
I thought she was taking us to her place for a rich meal, but then she suddenly changed her face and wanted to capture us.
Fighting and running at the same time consumes a lot of stamina.”
After finishing, she lightly nudged March 7th beside her with her elbow, trying to recruit an “ally”: “Right, March?
You must be hungry too, right?”
“How is that possible!
A pretty girl is very resistant to hunger…” Before she could finish.
“Grrr…”
A stomach growl, though not as loud but still quite clear, very untimely emanated from her own stomach, interrupting her words.
March 7th: “…!!!”
Her cheeks turned red in a “whoosh,” even more noticeably than Stelle’s just now.
“See!” Stelle immediately seized the “evidence,” pointing at March 7th’s stomach with an “I knew it” expression.
“You’re hungry too!”
“It’s, it’s not!” March 7th covered her stomach with both hands and retorted in shame and annoyance, but her momentum was clearly weakening.
“Th-this is just…
normal gastrointestinal peristalsis!
Yes!
Normal peristalsis!”
Sirin stood to the side.
She didn’t participate in their “debate” but silently reached out and produced two items from nowhere—
They were two cups of instant noodles, well-packaged, brightly colored, and printed with cute cartoon girl patterns.
“Here.”
She handed the two cups of instant noodles to Stelle and March 7th, who were still “accusing” each other.
Both of them froze at the same time, and their quarrel stopped instantly.
March 7th stared blankly at the thing in her hand and silently read its name.
This is…
Pretty Girl Instant Noodles?