Chapter 1: The Twice-Transmigrated, Battle-Scarred Youth Will Not Encounter the Girl Carrying a Nuclear Bomb

Los City High School.

It was a late winter dusk, snowflakes drifting down like goose feathers. The sky deepened as layer upon layer of cloud smothered the crimson sunset behind them. This was the last day off before the start of winter break. Students streamed out of the school, one after another slipping into family sedans—on a day like this, few would choose to walk home.

Dressed in the classic blue and white uniform, Su Yi looked delicate and slender, a single-strap bag slung over his shoulder, a dark red checkered umbrella in hand as he strode across the snow. Some students caught sight of him, dropping their heads to whisper in hushed voices.

“Isn’t that the guy who, while sleeping in the dorm, threatened to stab his roommate in the head because of his snoring?”

“I think so… Didn’t the police show up that time?”

“Let’s stay away from him.”

The murmurs buzzed in his ears. Su Yi angled his umbrella lower and quickened his pace. A sharp wind, thick with snow, cut across his shoulders; a few flakes landed on his skin, only to evaporate into mist in an instant.

There was no time more comforting in winter than just after a fresh snowfall. The ground, soft and yielding, would creak delightfully underfoot, allowing footprints to be left anywhere. The snow was just thick enough, neither too much nor too little—no one could hide from his eyes now, and there was no need to worry about an assassin bursting from underground. The sense of safety was overwhelming, though he reminded himself not to be careless—this weather was perfect for laying landmines; he had to watch his step.

“Damn it, this is Blue Star, not the Wasteland. How could there be assassins and landmines on the street?”

Su Yi rapped his head with his knuckles in frustration, sighing helplessly.

It had been almost two months since his return, and he still hadn’t adjusted to the peaceful life of Blue Star. Back in his second year of high school, he’d complained about the tedium of studying, only to be inexplicably transported to a war-torn world—a harsh wasteland where he became a bounty hunter.

In that world, where technology mingled with supernatural abilities, he fought and struggled for ten years before finally discovering a way to come home. Those years were too brutal, leaving him with symptoms akin to post-traumatic stress. He couldn’t help but scan his surroundings whenever he walked, slept each night clutching a dagger, and snapped awake at the slightest noise.

Even now, the symptoms had not fully abated.

Thankfully, time moved differently on both sides. Back on Earth, only ninety-two days had passed. He was once again in his youthful form—had it not been so, he’d now look like a scarred, battered old man.

“I really want to take a break from school. Staying in a rigidly managed place like high school for long dulls the senses,” Su Yi grumbled inwardly.

Watching the shivering pedestrians around him, bundled tight against the cold, Su Yi mimicked them, deliberately tilting his umbrella forward. Life on the wasteland had been so severe that his body had long since been modified—he could regulate himself at will, maintaining a body temperature around sixty degrees. The weather on Blue Star barely registered for him. He carried the umbrella only to avoid standing out.

The lessons of the wasteland had taught him well: adapt to your environment, never flee from it. Safety lay in making oneself inconspicuous.

Keeping a low profile was the only way to avoid the attention of bizarre organizations. No one should—or ever want to—end up on a dissection table, realizing regret too late.

“I’ll just have instant noodles again tonight. Sealed food always feels safer…” Su Yi rubbed his head as he arrived at the convenience store, pushing open the glass doors. The sensor bell chimed crisply.

The woman at the register glanced up from her accounts, only lowering her head to continue counting bills when she saw Su Yi dutifully wiping snow from his shoes on the carpet.

“Get what you want yourself,” she called.

Su Yi nodded, set his umbrella by the counter, and walked to the shelves, carefully choosing his noodles and sides, torn between the braised beef and the pickled vegetable flavors.

“Ding-dong~”

The bell chimed again—this time, the new customer showed no manners, slamming the door so hard that wind and snow rushed in, making the merchandise rattle on the shelves.

“This smell… isn’t right…”

Su Yi’s movements froze, his body tense, wariness all over his face. Of course, he wasn’t talking about the instant noodles.

The air was thick with the stench of machine oil—a smell only those who’d slogged through the wasteland would recognize. It was like the acrid smoke from an old diesel locomotive, mingled with the tang of gunpowder. He hadn’t smelled it in over a year.

“Reporting to headquarters, mask malfunctioning. Visual feed lost. Radar is heavily jammed by electromagnetic interference, and the thermal imaging is showing complex high-heat signatures.”

“Lorithy is adrift. Requesting instructions. Requesting instructions!”

A cold, mechanical voice echoed through the store, repeating its request for instructions over and over.

The woman at the register looked over, puzzled.

The newcomer was petite, her long silver hair spilling down her back. A futuristic silver mask covered her face, green ECG waves flickering across its surface. She wore a tattered gray cloak dusted with snow, her limbs encased in black metal armor, a bizarre, rusted object strapped to her back like a black safe. In stark contrast, her chest—wrapped only in bandages—was wholly unprotected, the delicate contours beneath clearly visible. She looked like a deranged girl obsessed with cosplay.

“Hey, knock the snow off before you come in—you’re tracking it everywhere!” the woman snapped, her sharp voice irritable as she noticed the black, greasy footprints on the floor. She’d seen plenty of oddly dressed customers, but none who’d made such a mess or reeked so strongly of oil.

But before she could finish, the girl snapped her head around. A dark purple light flashed from her mask, and the woman slumped unconscious over the counter.

“Reporting to headquarters—thermal pulse detected at the point of drift, but no cybernetic bodies found. I am unable to observe the external environment!”

“Lorithy requesting instructions!”

The girl’s voice was tinged with panic as she shook her head and walked forward.

Clang—

A crisp metallic crash rang out. She’d slammed straight into a welded iron shelf. Burdened by the heavy object on her back, she staggered and lost her balance, tumbling to the ground.

As if startled, she braced herself on one hand, rolled backward several times, shot to her feet, and drew out a thermal gun, pointing it at the shelf.

“Reporting enemy attack!”

Click!

The trigger was pulled. The core of her thermal gun spun frantically, heating up and glowing red. Despite its menacing look, the muzzle remained inert. It looked more like a child’s toy than a real weapon.

After several attempts with the trigger, she remained locked in a standoff with the shelf before finally steadying herself and shouting, “Reporting to headquarters, enemy appears neutralized, no further aggression detected!”

She called again and again, but her comms remained silent. All indicators showed normal, yet she couldn’t reach headquarters.

Just as she tried again, a voice sounded nearby.

“Thermal guns draw on ambient radiation to fire. Blue Star’s emission levels aren’t nearly enough to trigger it.”

Though her visor’s audio and visual systems were shot, the girl could faintly sense someone close by. She scanned with her thermal imaging but found nothing.

Suddenly, her gun was snatched from her hands.

Startled, she stumbled back, drawing a blade and assuming a defensive stance, eyes darting warily.

“Who’s there?! Show yourself!”

Su Yi held the thermal gun, watching the girl—every nerve on edge, blade drawn, gun ready at the slightest sound. She was the very image of himself those first months after returning from the wasteland.

There was no doubt—she was from the wasteland, too.

His bounty hunter instincts told him: she’d drawn her knife—last resort for wastelanders without weapons. The threat was real but manageable.

But then her next words made Su Yi’s scalp tingle.

“Reporting to headquarters, Lorithy has gone adrift. Mission failed.”

Her throat bobbed, voice pausing before she declared, resolute,

“I am willing to activate the nuclear warhead and perish with the enemy.”