"You…" Huanlong's voice came out dry. She tried to maintain her usual languid, seductive composure, but the tremor in her tone betrayed her.
"You actually earned the Scarred God's favor to this extent?"
Her fingers curled tight in her palm, unwilling to accept it. She had been right there—so why couldn't Nanook spare her even a glance?
"Just effort and sweat," Wei Qing said lightly, as if he were talking about something utterly trivial.
The attitude made Huanlong feel a surge of irritation—yet it also planted an unwelcome thought.
Did he really put in work behind the scenes… work she never saw?
"Then tell me," Huanlong forced herself to calm down, slipping her lazy, enchanting mask back into place. "What spectacular, world-shaking plan does someone so favored intend next?"
Wei Qing didn't answer. Instead, he asked out of nowhere:
"Huanlong—do you really like foxes that much?"
Huanlong blinked. The question was so absurd it threw her off balance.
"…Oh? Why ask that all of a sudden?"
"I've just noticed," Wei Qing said, "that every time I run into you, you're wearing a foxian 'skin.' And you put real craftsmanship into it, too."
His gaze swept over the foxian body she'd sculpted with obvious care.
Huanlong chuckled. "A beautiful vessel deserves meticulous carving and gentle tending. Watching it bloom into its final radiance within despair… that's the highest pleasure."
"Is that so." Wei Qing's tone didn't reveal agreement or disagreement. "So your type is foxians."
…
Huanlong's smile froze—because she finally sensed what had shifted in the air.
But by the time she realized it, it was already too late.
This foxian incarnation—one she'd poured time and obsession into—couldn't even send out a warning.
She felt something descend upon her.
Not a strike.
Not a blade.
A negation—a denial rooted in the Path itself.
It was as if some supreme existence had taken an eraser to a sheet of paper and gently wiped away a blemish.
Huanlong's body collapsed instantly—no struggle, no resistance, no room to claw back even a breath.
A Lord Ravager's avatar… erased so casually it bordered on comedy.
In the final moment, the last expression fixed in her mesmerizing eyes wasn't pain or fury—
It was pure, absolute bewilderment.
Because she heard Wei Qing's explanation—the kind that could make anyone's blood pressure spike.
"Sorry. I really hate burning foxes."
"Qingzhou! You—!" Huanlong's voice tore itself apart into a shrill, furious edge.
Absurd. Ridiculous. Unthinkable.
This had to be mockery.
A Lord Ravager's incarnation—destroyed in a way so childish, so humiliating, it was practically a slap delivered with a feather.
"Are you leaving," Wei Qing said calmly, "or do I need to escort you?"
…
Huanlong's rage hit a wall. She fell silent. The meaning couldn't be clearer.
And she truly wasn't his match.
"…Very well, Qingzhou," she said, her voice squeezed tight around seething resentment.
"I'll remember this 'surprise'—this ingratitude."
The loss of one incarnation wasn't fatal to her.
But that sensation—being erased as easily as wiping dust from a table—and that breezy little line, I hate burning foxes, carved a wound of pure humiliation into her pride.
Yet his strength was undeniably beyond her now.
So she left—forced to swallow the disgrace whole.
The starfield returned to silence.
"Finally," Wei Qing murmured, rubbing his chin. "Some peace and quiet."
Of course he wasn't going to let the nuisance keep tailing him.
The problem of Terminus still wasn't solved. He had more urgent matters to handle.
Next, he planned to try his luck with factions connected to Finality.
As far as the universe knew, only two were openly tied to Terminus:
The Omen Vanguards and the Mourning Actors.
…And perhaps, in the future, the Stellaron Hunters, led by Elio.
Honestly, compared to Elio, the Omen Vanguards and the Mourning Actors felt painfully low-tier. Wei Qing seriously doubted either group could offer him anything meaningful.
But the Stellaron Hunters didn't even exist yet—not in any form he could grasp. Finding Elio would be a headache.
And now—
The idiot system was chiming in again.
[Ding! Detected: Host's long-lost daughter is nearby.]
[Side quest issued: Please retrieve your daughter and successfully reunite with her.]
[Daughter coordinates have been delivered. Please sign for receipt.]
"…?"
What the hell did that mean?
When did he have a daughter—and with whom?
Wei Qing pinched the bridge of his nose. This brain-dead system had a gift: just when he thought things couldn't get more ridiculous, it would produce something even worse.
"Daughter coordinates… hm?"
His eyes landed on the position data. His brow lifted.
The destination wasn't far.
He'd just gotten rid of Huanlong—he could check this on the way. As absurd as "suddenly being a father" sounded, system quests were rarely meaningless. This "daughter" might not be normal at all.
Without further hesitation, space warped faintly around him, and he slipped toward the system's marked location.
It was an asteroid belt drifting at the edge of the star system—jagged stone, endless debris, and dead silence, lit only by the distant star's weak glow.
The coordinates pointed to a precise spot within it.
And there—floating in the void—was a gray-haired girl wrapped in a faint green light.
She looked young—about sixteen or seventeen, if judged by human standards.
She wasn't breathing.
Yet Wei Qing could clearly sense that her vitality hadn't vanished.
A delicate energy field clung around her body—barely there—maintaining the simplest baseline of life and masking her like another piece of star-wreckage, nearly impossible to detect through ordinary means.
She looked as if she had been drifting here, asleep, for a very long time.
Wei Qing moved to her side, studying the face sunk deep into that silent slumber.
This is the system's "daughter"?
He hesitated.
And then an odd familiarity pricked at him.
"…Wait."
His frown deepened.
That's Firefly.
Firefly—one of the Stellaron Hunters. The girl who would one day cross paths with the Astral Express again and again.
He'd literally just been thinking about how hard it would be to find Elio.
And now he'd stumbled onto the future SAM.
But she was his daughter?
That joke was too insane even for him. No matter how you sliced the timeline or causality, he and Firefly had nothing to do with each other.
Unless—
Unless it was something as stupid as they both had gray hair.
Yeah.
The system really was as brain-dead as ever.
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 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( Ending )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter108)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter144)
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 99
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 95
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 99
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 92
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 47
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 44
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 43
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