“Angel-chan, you don’t want to be unable to go to school tomorrow, do you?”
“We’re not borrowing that much.
A rich overseas student like you shouldn’t mind, right?”
“Exactly, exactly.
Making friends with us won’t do you any harm.”
“Hahaha!”
The harsh, discordant voices of the delinquent girls echoed through the dark alley, carrying an obnoxious, arrogant malice.
Angel curled up in the corner of the alley, her golden hair dusted with grime and dulled.
She pressed her hands hard against her head, her temples throbbing with agony.
So loud!
My head hurts so much!
Wasn’t I just drinking a toast?
Where is this?
Who are these people?
The small, fragile girl knitted her delicate brows, staring dazedly at the swaying figures before her.
Her face and pale lips were as white as paper, and her slender frame trembled slightly from the piercing headache.
But these reactions earned her no sympathy from the others.
Instead, the girl with garishly dyed hair and crudely caked makeup grabbed Angel by the collar, yanked her head up, and snarled:
“Say something!
You think you’re too good for us, you bitch!?”
“Le…
let go…
it hurts…”
Angel moved her pale lips and murmured unconsciously.
Thump!
With a vicious kick, the scowling girl sent the dazed Angel sprawling onto the damp, filthy alley floor.
She lay there, trembling, unable to rise.
Then they flipped her over, rummaged through her clothes, pulled out a wallet, took all the cash, and slapped the empty wallet back onto her face.
“Pfft!
What a joke!
That’s all you’ve got?”
“We’re in a good mood today, so we’ll let you off.
Next time, bring more money, or you know what’ll happen.
Right, Angel?”
“Hahaha!”
The gaudily dressed girls laughed triumphantly, slinging arms around each other, and sauntered out of the alley as if nothing had happened.
No one noticed that the sprawled Angel, with her vacant eyes, suddenly twitched a finger.
Kill!
Humans are scum!
Pests!
Enemies!
Destroy destroy destroy destroy destroy!
Kill kill kill kill kill!
Angel staggered to her feet.
This body felt alien in every way.
There was a constant buzzing drone in her ears, yet she could clearly hear the bullies’ jeers and heartbeats, and even distant car horns seemed to drill right into her eardrums.
It was bizarre and deeply uncomfortable.
But those were only physical discomforts.
What truly overwhelmed her was the raging roar in her mind, its source unknown.
Kill kill kill kill kill!
That voice commanded, and wave after wave of violent emotion surged through her.
Rage, hatred, and bloodlust quickly drowned out all reason.
Nauseating.
Made her want to vomit.
And then there were the jumbled memories churning in her brain like ground meat in a blender.
One from a researcher who had just closed her first major project.
The other from a helpless high school girl who had recently lost everyone she loved and suffered relentless school bullying.
Which one is me?
[Why must I go through all this?]
So what are you going to do?
[Family, life, dignity, dreams…
why do I have to lose everything!?]
Huh!??
[Kill kill kill kill kill!]
So answer my question…
ugh…
kill…
kill kill kill kill kill!
The two wills fused into one.
It no longer mattered who infected whom.
Angel simply raised her head, and in an instant, her violet eyes burned a pure crimson.
Her body swayed.
Her vision swayed.
She did not know how she had closed in on the departing bullies.
She reached out and laid a hand on one girl’s shoulder.
“Hey.”
The delinquent felt the touch and turned her head instinctively, only to meet a pair of blood-red eyes.
“Random memories keep popping up in my head.
But anyway, you are all scum, aren’t you?”
Angel hunched forward, tilting her head up slightly, the corners of her mouth twisting into an uncontrollable grin.
That eerie smile flashed before the eyes of the gang girls.
“Waaah!!”
“Bastard!
You scared us!”
“You bitch!
You are asking for it!”
Rip!
An arm dropped to the ground amid the flurry of shouts.
Blood sprayed across the wall and dripped from Angel’s dangling right fingertips.
One girl stared blankly at the remaining stub of her arm.
First disbelief, then sheer, utter terror.
“AAAAH!!”
Thwack!
Rip!
Shink!
“AAAAAH!!!”
…
Ten minutes later, a blood-soaked hand grabbed the corner of the wall at the alley’s entrance.
Angel leaned against the wall, gasping for breath.
The thick stench of blood rose from her dress, now soaked and stained.
“Home…
go home…”
She shook her head, and a familiar path emerged through her fractured consciousness.
Fortunately, the night was deep, and the area was relatively secluded.
Perhaps luck was on her side, because no one saw the ghost-like girl stumbling out of a horror movie along the way.
Angel made it into a dark, two-story house, collapsed at the entrance, and lost consciousness completely.
…
Drip, drip, drip.
The next morning, in the bathroom, cold water splashed over Angel.
It was mid-autumn, the eighth month, and the far eastern morning already carried a biting chill.
The water heater needed to be preset, and at this hour, only cold water ran.
But Angel did not feel cold.
She stood still in her school skirt under the shower, staring fixedly at her own pale, delicate hands.
Hands that, until a moment ago, had been caked with dark brown clots of dried blood.
The water washed away the stains from her clothes and skin, streaming down her flawless legs to the floor and draining away as filthy runoff.
Clean.
No scars from handling lab equipment.
Clearly very young.
So this is transmigration?
Angel frowned in silence.
After a moment, she peeled off the blood-crusted skirt and carefully washed her still-developing, tender body.
Tossing the clothes into the washing machine, she draped a loose white bathrobe over herself and collapsed onto the living room sofa.
She stared at the room around her.
Familiar, yet foreign.
“Leave the philosophical question of ‘Am I still me?’ aside for now.
I am the enemy of humanity, the bell-ringer of civilization’s doom, the destroyer of worlds.
I am the Herrscher of Dominance.”
Angel’s clear, cool voice echoed through the room, calm and steady, yet tinged with numbness.
“Of all worlds…
it had to be this one.”
“Liking beautiful girls doesn’t mean I wanted to come to this world.”
Angel let out a weary sigh.
A strange awareness was etched into her mind, clearly telling her of her current inhuman identity.
There were also some pieces of information she had yet to organize, likely related to the Herrscher’s authority.
With such a distinctive identity, combined with certain details from her other set of memories, the world she was in could naturally be determined.
Angel picked up the phone on the table.
She unlocked the screen, typed in “Nagazora City,” and searched.
The first result was a news article.
[This March, a chain of explosions that shocked the world occurred in Nagazora City.
Over ten million citizens were displaced, with casualties far exceeding the New York explosion disaster of the last century.
The statistical results of the specific casualty figures have now been released, and related search and rescue operations are nearing completion.
The ministers of the Security Department, Fire Department, Urban Construction Department, and several other relevant departments have resigned and will undergo comprehensive review and investigation.
Hereby, the Far East government once again warns all citizens that Nagazora City still contains numerous unresolved hidden risks.
Professionals without official approval must absolutely not enter the city limits.]
Below the article were a series of photos showing government officials bowing in apology.
The standard ninety-degree angle demonstrated their deep study and practice of the Far East’s traditional artistry.
Truly worthy of Far East officials.
Angel’s lips twitched, and she murmured with mixed emotions:
“I am in the world of Honkai Impact 3rd.
I am the Herrscher of Dominance.
The time is August 2014, less than half a year since the birth of the Third Herrscher, the destruction of Nagazora City, and the three main girls entering St.
Freya.”
After barely sorting out the basic questions of “who am I,” “where am I,” and “what time is it now,” more doubts swirled into her mind one after another.
Questions like “why” and “who did this,” but none of them had answers.
The only thing she could be certain of was that this was a very dangerous world.
And the Herrscher of Dominance, also known as the Herrscher of a Thousand or the Mob, was, in short, an enemy of the main cast, a villain destined to be defeated.
Upon realizing this, Angel pressed a hand to her forehead, drew her long, slender legs up, and curled her small body into the sofa.
Then she uttered a single, crisp, elegant exclamation:
“Fuck!”