As it turned out, the final result unfolded exactly as Flandre had predicted.
Even though Hannya was touted as an indestructible legendary shield, its absolute defense was strictly physical. The raw physical damage inflicted by the fine golden chain in Beatrice's hand was actually quite modest on its own—unless it struck a vital organ, a thin metal strand smaller than a pinky finger wouldn't cause life-threatening trauma through blunt kinetic force alone, regardless of its density.
The magical output, however, was a completely different story.
Even with Hoshiguma's towering physical endurance, a single lash from the chain left her muscles locked up in complete paralysis. Picking up the heavy shield that usually granted her total battlefield security changed absolutely nothing.
With that second strike, Hoshiguma's hair instantly evolved from a wild Madara fringe into a jagged, roaring Super Saiyan mane.
Watching her stand in the center of the yard with her green hair shooting straight up into the sky, everyone in the training grounds burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Hoo... hah..." Hoshiguma stretched her arms, letting out a heavy, rattling exhale. "This whip really packs a punch... For a second there, I thought I was seeing my great-grandmother waving at me from the other side."
"Do you want to try the Lungmen Guard Department's standard-issue anti-riot shield next?" Flandre egged her on from the sidelines, her crimson eyes twinkling with mischief. "That one isn't made of metal! It uses a special composite fiber—maybe it can block the lightning?"
Having served as a special consultant for the LGD, Flandre was reasonably familiar with their riot control gear.
Hoshiguma pondered the idea for a moment. Since her hair had already been fried into a giant green brush, taking one more hit wouldn't make much difference anyway. She trotted over to the equipment rack nearby to retrieve a heavy composite riot shield.
"Can that thing actually block magic?" Beatrice asked, casting a suspicious glance at Flandre, who looked like she was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.
"Not a chance," Hong Meiling whispered back quietly.
"Huh? But didn't Flandre just say it could?" Beatrice asked, surprised.
"She's pulling her leg," Hong Meiling chuckled softly. "Well, not entirely lying, I suppose. The composite material might disperse a tiny fraction of the kinetic force, but it won't stop the magical current from grounding through her body. Enchantments don't strictly follow natural science. Science can mitigate physical vectors, but it can't grant total immunity against raw magic."
Hong Meiling knew all too well that Flandre was simply indulging her playful, mischievous side.
Sure enough, when Beatrice delivered the third lash against the composite riot shield, Hoshiguma's hairstyle transcended Super Saiyan and pushed straight into Super Saiyan 2, complete with static sparks floating off her shoulders.
Yet, after pushing herself back up off the grass, Hoshiguma wasn't the least bit upset about being paralyzed three times in a row. Instead, she announced with genuine excitement that the riot shield was a massive success—from her own physical perspective, the numbing shock was noticeably lighter than the direct hit on Hannya.
It worked, just not as miraculously as an untrained observer might hope.
Just as they were wrapping up the trial, the double doors of the tactical range swung open.
"Whoa! Hoshiguma, what on earth happened to your hair?" Ch'en stepped into the yard, stopping dead in her tracks as she stared at the towering Oni. "Are you getting a head start on tomorrow's cosplay exhibition or something?"
"What exhibition?" Flandre perked up instantly, her ears practically twitching at the mention of something fun.
"Oh, there's an anime and pop-culture expo being held at the Science Museum's convention wing tomorrow," Ch'en explained, turning her gaze toward the little vampire. "People dress up as all sorts of fictional characters, novel icons, and supernatural figures. You should check it out, Flandre. It's mostly students and young people—you might even make a few new friends there."
Flandre's eyes lit up with genuine interest, and she nodded repeatedly.
Beatrice glanced over at Hoshiguma. "I actually happen to be assigned to security detail for that venue tomorrow. Hoshiguma, do you want to tag along?"
"I don't know..." Hoshiguma scratched her cheek, her static-charged hair bristling against her fingers. "The Special Inspection Unit has paperwork to clear... wouldn't it look bad if I took off two days in a row?"
"The LGD is one big family," Ch'en said calmly, waving off her concerns with nonchalant authority. "Besides, the Major Crimes Division doesn't have any high-profile cases running this week. Missing one senior officer for a day isn't going to collapse the precinct. Beatrice, just file a cross-departmental assistance request to borrow Hoshiguma for venue security, and I'll sign off on it immediately."
Lungmen had been remarkably peaceful over the past few weeks. While petty thefts and street brawls still popped up, the motives were transparent and the suspects were usually rounded up within hours. The Major Crimes Division was rarely this quiet, which was the sole reason Hoshiguma had been granted leave to enter the motorcycle rally in the first place. Had it been during their peak operational crunches, she wouldn't have had a single minute to spare for racing.
"Alright, it's a deal then!" Beatrice grinned, eyeing Hoshiguma's wild, electrified green hair. "Though with a look like that, Hoshiguma, you're pretty much restricted to cosplaying as a legendary final boss!"
Hoshiguma reached up, desperately trying to pat her standing hair back down into its natural cascade. "Uh... I think I'd better go hit the showers and flatten this out first."
Ch'en walked closer, examining Hoshiguma's static-frizzled bang with amused curiosity. "Seriously though, were you testing a faulty stun baton? How did you manage to fry yourself this badly?"
Hoshiguma pointed a thick finger straight at Beatrice. "Don't look at me. I was helping Beatrice calibrate her new tactical weapon."
"New weapon?" Ch'en looked at Beatrice skeptically. The blonde heiress was standing there with empty hands, wearing her tailored uniform without a firearm or baton in sight.
"Do you want to give it a spin, Pink Sausage Dragon?" Beatrice asked, a dangerous, predatory glint flashing across her eyes.
Ch'en wasn't a fool. Taking one look at Hoshiguma's hair—which was still pointing toward the sky like a cluster of emerald spears—she knew instantly that Beatrice's "new weapon" was nothing short of a hazard. She flatly rejected the offer with a sharp turn of her head.
Seeing that Ch'en refused to take the bait, Beatrice let out a small, disappointed sigh. Since the golden chain's shock was strong enough to drop an Oni like Hoshiguma, it would have sent Ch'en sprawling onto her back in seconds. She had been quietly hoping to snap a few hilarious photos on her phone for future blackmail.
"Whatever. Let's move over to the official ballistics and materials testing booth to get the final data readouts," Beatrice said, scooping up Flandre into her arms as she turned toward the indoor facility.
Once the group arrived at the high-grade materials testing lab, Ch'en finally caught a clear look at Beatrice's new gear: a fine golden chain woven seamlessly into her long, flowing blonde hair. Because the metallic luster matched her natural hair color, it was virtually invisible at a glance. Combined with Beatrice's penchant for stylish accessories even while in uniform, everyone had simply assumed it was a piece of high-end jewelry.
Ch'en couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of it. How could a dainty decorative thread deliver enough voltage to collapse a hardened combat officer? More importantly, how did this spoiled heiress dare to wrap a live high-voltage conductor directly around her head? Was she not worried about accidentally frying her own brains into a crisp?
The testing began with a structural stress test.
The technicians clamped the thin chain into hydraulic pullers, struck it with heavy sledgehammers, and subjected it to high-density shear forces. To their sheer astonishment, the links showed zero deformation—not even a superficial scratch marred the polished surface.
The lead lab technician kept shaking his head in disbelief. According to standard spectral analysis, the chain's material composition registered as a common composite copper-gold alloy—the exact same cheap, ductile metal used in commercial fashion jewelry across Terra, possessing virtually no structural hardness.
Yet the physical properties demonstrated right before his eyes surpassed even D32 steel, the hardest military-grade alloy known to modern metallurgy. Had the chain not belonged directly to the Swire family's eldest daughter, he would have begged to dismantle it for a full metallurgical research project on the spot.
Next came the physical damage assessment.
Though lightweight, the five-pound density concentrated into such a slender profile allowed it to behave far more aggressively than a conventional leather whip. Under Beatrice's crisp wrist snaps, the golden chain bit deep into heavy wooden target posts, leaving jagged, deep gouges in the reinforced timber.
The surrounding technicians swallowed hard at the sight. If a thin thread could gouge solid wood like a buzzsaw, the damage it would inflict on human flesh and bone was terrifying to contemplate.