"Ugh—this is seriously going to kill me. After experiencing that Shiyu Defense Campaign, I swear… if it were me running around in the Hollow instead of Eous, I'd probably drop a few pounds."
Another day of hard work over, Belle—the "Oatmeal Girl"—dragged herself back to the video store on Sixth Street, exhausted to the bone.
She flung her whole body onto the couch, stared up at the ever-unchanging ceiling, and let out a satisfied-but-worn-out groan. Muttering, she rolled over—then, with uncanny accuracy, fished several brightly colored snack packets out of the couch's hidden "secret pantry" compartment.
She tore open a bag of chips and started crunching away happily. Crumbs inevitably rained down onto the cushion.
"Honestly, if one day we can move freely in Hollows, maybe we really could turn it into a weight-loss program. And Belle! How many times do I have to tell you—don't lie on the couch eating snacks! What if crumbs fall into the seams?!"
"That's what you're for, big brother," Belle drawled, grinning as she turned toward him—completely ignoring his protest, cheeks puffed out like a little hamster.
"I'm your brother, not your nanny!" Wise snapped, voice rising, a vein twitching at his temple.
"What's the difference? Haven't you seen it?" Belle waved a hand carelessly, nearly spilling chips, then her eyes lit up as if she'd remembered something.
"There's this post that's been super popular on Inter-Knot lately! What was it called… found it! Yeah—'A sworn enemy can become a wife!'"
Watching Belle act completely unladylike—yelling, shoving chips into her mouth—Wise shut his eyes in pain, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. His long fingers pressed hard at his throbbing temple.
"Seriously, Belle… you're always like this."
He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the floodgates of memory swung open anyway.
"Remember when we were kids playing in the sand? Every time I finally managed to build a sandcastle—feeling all proud, ready to call Chiya over to see it…"
"The next second I'd hear this big 'BAM—!' and when I turned around, the castle was already smashed into crumbs by your one kick."
Thinking of all the aggravation he'd endured because of his sister, Wise clenched his fist, teeth grinding, and said with forced firmness:
"Eating this junk isn't good for you. I'm going to Master Chop's place to order you a bowl of ramen. What flavor do you want?"
"Hehe, I knew you'd worry about me, big brother! I want pork-bone ramen!" Belle immediately brightened like a cat being petted the right way, eyes curving into crescents as she chirped.
"If you know I worry about you, then stop making me worry. Quit dumping extra work and random bills on me all the time. If it weren't for Chiya, I wouldn't even have money left to buy Yao Jiayin albums and magazines!"
"What?! By your logic, then you're the one who should tell Chiya to worry less about you," Belle shot back, sitting up indignantly. The chip bag crackled loudly.
"Every time you can't get tickets and end up buying scalper tickets at insane prices—you are the least reassuring person here!"
"…Belle," Wise said flatly, "your midnight snack still depends on me."
"What—ugh! Don't act like you can control me with that!" Belle puffed up. "I can still order takeout—"
Her words cut off abruptly, because Wise had already snatched her phone with lightning speed.
"Big brother! Give it back!"
"Nope!" Wise dodged her pounce with a quick sidestep, holding the phone up high, wearing a "victorious" smile that mixed helplessness with a little petty delight.
"You need to detox your brain for a while! Stop living on Inter-Knot reading all that nonsense!"
The video store instantly filled with the sound of the siblings chasing each other around—along with Belle's furious, puffed-cheek protests.
Night, thick enough to feel solid, pressed down over a desolate Hollow near the ruins of the Old Capital.
The air felt almost frozen—reeking faintly of metal rust, dust-bitter sediment, and the ever-present Ether whisper that crawled out from deeper within the Hollow, chilling the spine.
Twisted rebar speared up like the skeleton of a dead beast toward a lead-gray sky. Broken walls and collapsed structures cast jagged, fragmented shadows under weak moonlight. Silence was the only melody here—occasionally punctured by the distant screech of an unknown Hollow creature, or the dry crumble of weathered debris flaking away.
In the center of this forgotten land stood a massive, mute steel figure—
The last remaining of the three runaway machines from Baiqi Heavy Industries:
A Type-III industrial pile driver designed for Hollow operations.
Codename: Friday.
Its cold metal shell was scarred with dents and rust left by time and battle. The enormous pile-driving arm hung at its side, hardened grease at the joints glinting darkly under the pale light.
Now, the "head"—integrated with complex optical sensors—tilted slightly upward, watching the moon: distant, pale, half-veiled by thin clouds.
Moonlight, cold as frost, fell stingily—tracing the hard outline of its hulking body, but unable to dispel the heavy loneliness radiating from within.
A long, low sigh—full of unmistakable mechanical resonance—rolled out of the speaker deep in its chest, echoing through the dead ruins as if carrying a thousand pounds of weight.
"Mentor… please forgive me. I must wait here a while before I can leave. I know the burden I carry cannot be escaped. But at present, I am not free. I must wait until Baiqi Heavy Industries' partners give up struggling—until they stop searching for me—before I can go reinforce the seal with an undistracted heart."
Its optical lens tightened slightly, as if its focus pierced past the barren wasteland to see someone who wasn't here. The cold night wind skimmed across its rivets and tubing with a faint, mournful whine.
"To be honest," its voice dropped, carrying a self-mocking scrape of metal, "I once thought the remainder of my life would be spent in a diligent yet utterly unremarkable career of mixing concrete…"
The words paused. Somewhere deep in its core processor, something invisible surged—current gathering, converging.
The massive steel head lifted higher. In the optical sensor, a dim light suddenly sharpened—bright and keen, like two blue flames igniting in the dark, stabbing straight at the heavens.
A subtle wave—something ancient, something born of starless distances—leaked from deep inside its immense chassis, resonating faintly with the moon above.
Its voice rose sharply, trembling with unprecedented excitement:
"Yet I never imagined… that one day I would open the spiritual meridians—and reach the ears of Heaven!"
That proclamation thundered across the ruins, stirring larger echoes. Far away came a few howls from Ethereals—so distant they sounded like hallucinations.
Beneath the moon, the massive frame seemed to stand straighter. Even its old scars looked as though they'd been gilded with fate.
"Mentor—on this day, to commemorate it…"
Its tone became decisive, like a blade meeting the chopping block.
"I will abandon the name Friday! The ugly me who only knew how to bury my head in pile driving—who drifted in dullness—is dead!"
Its gigantic pile-driving arm slowly lifted, joints grinding with heavy power, until it pointed at the moon as if performing an ancient, solemn ritual.
"As for my new name…"
A brief pause—calm before the storm. Even the Hollow wind seemed to hold its breath. All strength, all resolve, all fragile hope for the future condensed into the words about to be spoken:
"…It shall be 'Dawn's Punisher'!"
The instant the name fell, a fierce gust of wind swept up the dust and sand, howling through the ruins.
And overhead, the thin clouds that had been veiling the moon scattered at just that moment—as if in answer.
Clean, complete moonlight—brimming with possibility—poured down like a searchlight, bathing the steel monument that had declared its rebirth: Dawn's Punisher, unbending beneath the moon.
Warm orange lamplight filled the apartment living room shared by Tsukishiro Yanagi and Soukaku, and the faint fragrance of dinner still lingered in the air.
Yanagi sat on the couch with several unfinished Section 6 reports spread across her lap. Her glasses had slipped slightly down her nose, and she rubbed her brow, trying to chase away the fatigue of overtime.
"Sis Yanagi! I'm back!" With quick footsteps and a click of the door lock, Soukaku burst in like a gust of wind, her blue cheeks flushed from excitement.
She held up a paper bag like a treasure offering, voice bright and proud.
"I got the red bean buns you've been craving forever!"
Yanagi looked up. Behind the lenses, her violet eyes flashed with surprise—then softened into helplessness.
She set the reports aside, pushed her glasses up lightly, and her gaze dropped to Soukaku's wrist communicator—empty and silent.
Her tone carried worry and a faint, restrained scolding.
"…Soukaku. I'm touched, really."
She sighed and stood, walking over. Habitually, she reached out to smooth Soukaku's messed-up short hair and straighten her slightly crooked tie.
"But next time, could you check your communicator? I didn't get a single message. I was about to go out and look for you myself."
Under the gentle living-room light, Yanagi's tall figure completely enveloped the smaller Soukaku.
"Hehe… um, sorry, Sis Yanagi." Soukaku scratched her neck, flashing a goofy grin that showed a little fang, and hurriedly pushed the bag toward her.
"Hurry and t—ah!"
Her smile froze. Her ruby eyes went round. The moment her fingers touched the bag, she felt the chill.
"The buns got cold! I'm sorry! If I'd just gotten back a little faster…"
Her small face crumpled immediately; even the tips of her ears drooped as if she'd committed an unforgivable sin.
"You…" Yanagi watched Soukaku go from elated to crushed in one second, and any trace of scolding dissolved into softness.
She took the cold paper bag, and with her other hand gently rubbed Soukaku's fluffy white hair.
"It's fine."
Then she softened further, pulling Soukaku down to sit on the couch. She inspected her carefully, making sure she was unharmed.
"Today's Shiyu Defense Campaign—how was it? Were you hurt?"
"No, no!" Soukaku shook her head hard, hair bouncing.
"With that leader from last time guiding us, we found the exits super easily! Nothing like before, when we had to waste time fighting Ethereals just to stall for Kori's standard-issue Bangboo!"
She gestured wildly, her face full of ease and trust.
"Leader?" Yanagi leaned forward, instantly focused, a subtle tension and concern flashing through her violet eyes.
"The leader of that independent investigation group from last time?"
Then, as if it mattered more than anything else, she asked—her fingers unconsciously tightening around the bag of cold buns:
"Soukaku… did you see Doctor Chiya this time?"
"Nope," Soukaku said honestly, shaking her head. Then she seemed to remember something important, and her red eyes sparkled as she looked at Yanagi with blunt, childlike curiosity.
"Oh—Sis Yanagi, I have a question for you."
"Hm? What is it?" Yanagi relaxed a little, a faint smile appearing.
"Do you want to eat him?" Soukaku tilted her head, innocently dropping a verbal grenade.
"Pff—!" Yanagi almost choked on her own spit. Her glasses slid down to the bridge of her nose and she hurried to push them back up, her fair cheeks flushing pink in an instant.
"Why would you even ask that?!" Her voice was full of shocked embarrassment.
"Because Chief said last time," Soukaku recited solemnly, completely unaware of Yanagi's meltdown.
"Your look when you stare at Doctor Chiya is the same look she has when she stares at a melon! Like you're drooling over something you love!"
"And Yuma also said your eyes look kind of like his cat at home when it sees dried fish!"
She nodded hard, as if presenting airtight evidence.
"…"
The blush drained from Yanagi's face, replaced by a calm that mixed helplessness with unmistakable "killing intent."
She slowly removed her glasses and wiped the lenses with her fingertip, unhurried. The reflection of the room's lights hid her eyes completely, and only her low voice emerged—cool, edged with frost:
"…Ah. Asaba Yuma…"
"It seems I've been far too gentle with you all."
"Achoo—(cough, cough)!"
"Why did my heart suddenly skip just now…? Hm, did a new meeting notice come in? Whatever. Yanagi will handle it."
"Now I'll continue my training—maintaining my blades."
"Strange… it feels like my symptoms flared up again, but when I get up and touch my chest, there's nothing. Hm. Guess I've been working too hard lately and my body can't take it."
"I'll keep taking leave tomorrow. That way I can achieve the ultimate slacker schedule—only work half the month."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 175)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 126)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter134)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 87
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 79
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 64
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 73
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 45
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 49
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 45
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 45
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