On the seventh night after Ice Rain’s departure, under the silver moonlight, Yvette stealthily hunted down the last hive she had left in Agash.
This hive was intentionally spared for her to exploit its summoning ability. Before she left, she could come here periodically to strike it, forcing it to draw nearby aberrations toward her. That way, she wouldn’t have to do much herself and could clear the remaining aberrations within Agash.
Yes, eliminating all the aberrations in Agash would serve as her parting gift to the puppet town.
As for whether it would cause the townsfolk any renewed panic or add another spine-chilling ghost story…
That was irrelevant.
After all, she would be long gone.
Thus, under the thick blanket of night, she transformed into a silvery-haired specter and completed a bloody cleansing of the entire city center of Agash. It wasn’t until the ground turned into a sea of corpses and blood, and no new aberrations dared to approach, that she used her tentacle-like silver hair to penetrate and drain the last remnants of life from the hive, tossing its empty shell aside.
It was quite reminiscent of a dark god… She smiled faintly, then entered a tall building, making her way to the Dream Mist she’d discovered there previously.
With her experience regarding the passage of time in Dream Mist, she knew that spending six months inside would translate to only a few minutes in reality—a very brief interval.
However, unlike before, this version of the Dream Mist seemed to be significantly smaller, only half the size it once was. She wondered if this meant the dream would diminish in duration as well, potentially lasting only three months.If that were the case, she’d have to hurry… With this thought, she walked in, ensuring to seal off the nearby hallways with her not-so-masterful earth-element magic.
…
A moment later, a cold metallic sensation jolted her awake, and she opened her eyes to find herself reclining on a metal bench.
Above her was a massive transparent dome, filtering the harsh sunlight and evenly casting warmth below. The air around her was no longer salty and rancid but filled with the rich aroma of coffee mixed with some synthetic fragrances. Expansive verdant grass lay close by, where elderly citizens strolled along a smooth, reflective composite road not far off.
It appeared to be a park. Considering the nearby skyscrapers, holographic advertisements, and flying vehicles gliding like schools of fish, this was likely the central park of Agash…
Having quickly oriented herself, Yvette activated her magical ring to check the date.
It was 2129… Which means it was four years after the original soul was involved in the Rebirth Project?! Moreover, just a year prior, a peculiar incident occurred at Abyss Base, wherein the Firefly Core gained self-awareness!
Instinctively, she began scanning for news related to Ish Island, but apart from the commonplace gang warfare, she found nothing particularly noteworthy.
This was quite understandable; Abyss Base was of critical importance, and Black Tower Pharmaceuticals would never allow essential information to leak…
Soon, leaving the central park, Yvette headed toward the outer district. As a penniless shadow citizen, her means to earn money would undoubtedly have to be through gray avenues, with the impoverished districts being the ideal place for her to operate freely.
While walking, the clamor of a crowd caught her attention. She crossed a small alley and discovered a massive parade filled with angry citizens, yelling slogans and waving signs that read “Fraud John” and “Corporate Dogs Must Step Down,” marching toward the city center.
So this was a protest…
The “John” being protested was John Tito Lockwood, the new president of the New Eden United States. He was an older white man with a shining head, wearing black-framed glasses—polished and seemingly robust, clearly a product of extensive use of runic elixirs.
However, Yvette knew little about President John. After all, the last time dream travel had occurred, the presidential elections hadn’t even begun; calculating the time now, it seemed the new president had only recently assumed office about a year ago.
In just that time, the public had already begun to protest? This president was certainly making waves… What a dazzling spectacle…
She thought back to certain figures on Earth as she joined the fray.
“Little girl, are you here to protest, too?” A passionately animated woman approached her, holding up her protest sign and posing the question.
“No… I’m just passing through, ma’am.”
“Come on, join us! This righteous cause needs everyone’s strength! We must rip that pile of filth from the presidential throne! It concerns each of our rights!” The woman fervently attempted to pass her the sign.
Unfortunately, I’m not a legal citizen… Yvette glanced at the massive gathering and noticed there were very few young people, and hardly any minors around fifteen or sixteen years old.
She suddenly understood the woman’s motives; having an eye-catching girl like her in the crowd would certainly attract attention and might boost the visibility of their protest.
“If you could lend me a little money, I would agree,” Yvette replied.
The woman paused, clearly surprised that such a radiant girl would utter something so mundane and thus taint their noble cause with such worldly requests. She instinctively stepped back.
Yet after a moment’s hesitation, she turned back to ask, “How much do you need?”
“600 points. And also, ma’am, please transfer it to me in digital currency.”
“…Alright.”
The woman was left speechless, perhaps realizing that this beautiful girl was indeed an outcast, explaining her need for digital currency. But 600 points was a drop in the bucket for someone like her, so she didn’t refuse.
Thus, Yvette accepted the sign that read “Fraud John” from the woman and positioned herself at the front of the protest, marking her first bit of earnings since entering the dream.
…
That evening, after the protest had ended, Yvette used her newly earned digital currency to call for a taxi, directing it toward the Bayard District.
This area was the slums of Agash, akin to the Blackwater District in Ish City, an ideal playground for someone like her, a shadow citizen and rune hacker.
The taxi sailed through a neon-lit landscape, and as the scenery sped past through the window, a giant holographic advertisement featuring the president’s face flickered by. Curiosity piqued, Yvette decided to look up information on the president.
According to online sources, current President John Tito Lockwood was originally a physician before turning to politics, ascending from a bureaucrat to mayor and eventually becoming the leader of the conservative party, one of the two main parties in the New Eden United States, boasting a strong public image and excellent reputation.
He ran for president last year, campaigning with slogans like “Combating Super Capitalism,” “Tight Control Over AI Boundaries,” and “Affordable Healthcare for the People,” narrowly defeating a formidable opponent to become the nation’s president.
However, from the moment he took power, his image seemed to flip. The heavy-handed actions he had once taken against large corporations were instantaneously replaced with soft appeasements, leading to customized legislations benefiting Black Tower Pharmaceuticals and Linthou Biotech.
It wasn’t long before voters realized their error, crying out that he was an epic fraud. Following this, opposition research uncovered a series of scandals involving “corruption” and “misappropriation of funds.” In just one year of office, he found himself mired in controversies that had resulted in daily impeachment proceedings or threats thereof, with the mid-term elections looming ahead on the horizon.
After several minutes of scanning through articles about President John, Yvette found it all exceedingly dull—politicians promise the world during campaigns but quickly change face once in power. How exhausting these cycles of history were, lacking any semblance of novelty.
But that was of little consequence; the president of the New Eden United States changes every four years, and by the time the apocalypse hits at least 20 years down the line, heaven knows how many times the position would have swapped hands; there wasn’t much value in concerning herself with it.
…
Thirty minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the Black Street in the Bayard District.
This area bore a stark contrast to the atmosphere of Central Park; the air was thick with the scents of cheap synthetic food, machine oil, sweat, and something foul. Buildings riddled with rust and chaotic piping obscured much of the sunlight, leaving only the flickering neon signs to illuminate the streets, which were painted in bizarre shades of red, blue, green, and purple.
Yvette stepped out of the cab, quietly observing her surroundings.
According to the intelligence she had gathered, Black Street was the largest mercenary hub in Agash, where significant gray trades primarily unfolded.
However, unlike in the past, this time in addition to commissioning someone to sell limited spells for her, she also planned to take on some mercenary tasks to earn extra money.
Because this time, she was aiming for more than just 500,000 credits for a professional book. After discovering that the sanctuary headquarters was associated with the Mechanical God’s Blessed Ones, sensing a significant threat, she intended to procure more upgrades, such as replacing her civilian-grade magical ring and securing additional military-grade equipment.
She even considered seizing an opportunity to enroll in a professional school to learn some cutting-edge knowledge related to the legendary “Spatial Runes,” which could one day be utilized in her research on the Aurora Strands and the Abyss.
The combined expenses would add up, and 2 million credits wouldn’t be enough; yet, this time, the dream’s potential duration might only last three months.
With this dual pressure, she couldn’t just sit around and wait for others to sell her spell packaging—she had to proactively act as a lone mercenary, accepting high-yield commissions.