It was a woman also dressed in a pale patient gown.
Her messy silver short hair stuck up stubbornly, barely reaching her ears.
Long bangs covered half of her face, almost hiding her eyes, giving her a decadent, lazy feel, leaving only a tightly pursed lip line and a sharp jawline, exuding a cold, unapproachable aura.
Her skin was cool white, and due to her body, which was full of wild power, it exuded a sharp beauty like a cold blade.
Although Serie and Mad Eater Witch's skin tones were equally fair, they both carried a hint of enclosed fragility.
However, this silver-haired Witch, with her high, chiseled nose bridge and the deep eye socket contours that could still be felt even when covered by thick bangs, made it easy to guess that she, like Linette, was Caucasian.
Judging solely by her physique, her age seemed more mature than Serie and Mad Eater Witch, probably around her early twenties.
She was tall, with a well-proportioned and upright frame; the loose patient gown should have concealed all curves, but at this moment, due to her posture or angle, it was taut or draped in certain areas, instead outlining breathtaking lines.
Beneath the thin fabric, smooth and wild muscle lines were faintly visible, especially the tight, powerful waist, which outlined a clear abdominal line amidst the fabric folds, extending down to firm, full buttocks, filled with a certain alluring tension.
However, just by looking at her appearance, Serie couldn't get much useful information.
She only knew that this new silver-haired Witch was Caucasian and seemed to have also been interned by the Control Bureau, as evidenced by the identical patient gown she wore; the Control Bureau always seemed to prefer oversized patient gowns, though her intention was unknown.
Serie continued to look at the silver-haired Witch's information—
Name: Zoya Plabskaya
Codename: Wildfire Witch
Gender: Female
Age: ███ years old
Race: Human | Witch
Attributes: Strength C | Endurance B | Charm B | Agility C | Spirit F
Evaluation: Alcohol and nicotine have destroyed this veteran's spirit, but they will not erase her body, which has been tempered by countless battles.
Ability: "Arson Revelry": Cursed flames lie dormant within her body. You can use them as you wish, to make a delicious barbecue, create a spectacular fireworks display, turn your enemies into charcoal, or burn those who wish to get close to you. No matter what, enjoy this out-of-control revelry.
Background Introduction: You were once the pride of your homeland, the blade of the army, a hero revered by thousands.
Until one mission, a spark of fire erupted in winter.
Immediately after, your family, comrades, faith, and even everything within a ten-mile radius turned to ashes in this disaster.
When you awoke within it, ironically, these cursed wildfires not only did not harm you but became a permanent part of you.
Who caused this disaster?
It doesn't matter.
Because even you, the sole survivor of this disaster, have long since succumbed, burying this insane memory with strong liquor, and you have transformed from a hero lauded by all into a mentally unstable arsonist.
Perhaps the fear in their eyes is correct...
Because at this moment, you are restless and desperately want to burn everything before you.
Compared to the emotional rollercoaster she experienced when viewing Mad Eater Witch's information, Serie's mood this time was completely dominated by pure surprise.
Her gaze was fixed intently on those few lines of attributes.
Both Strength and Agility were C-rank, and Endurance even reached an astonishing B-rank!
One must know that an ordinary adult's various indicators would at most be E-rank.
Leaving aside the generally superior charm values of Witches, in terms of the pure strength and resilience contained within this body alone, this Wildfire Witch was practically a humanoid beast, absolutely worthy of her former military identity.
Her only weakness was the glaring F-rank behind her Spirit attribute.
"It's just that her spirit is too low…" Serie muttered to herself.
However, compared to the real, tangible power and endurance that could take a beating, and the agility that could save a life at critical moments.
This bit of risk... should... probably...
Be acceptable, right?
This surprise was especially precious to Serie.
She herself was a sickly person who got winded after just a few steps, and Mad Eater Witch, despite her great potential, was still in her infancy.
What she lacked most right now was a powerful enforcer who could stand on her own.
Wildfire Witch's battle-hardened physique and formidable attributes were practically tailor-made to be her early-game combat pillar. What's more, even setting aside these impressive stats, the ability 'Arson Revelry' itself was enough to make Serie's heart race.
The power to control flames—this kind of thing, in the past, was an ability only anime protagonists were worthy of possessing.
Simple yet powerful!
After all, no carbon-based life form could endure the scorching heat of flames.
Serie's lips curled into a confident smile that had just begun to grace her face, and with a thought, her mind stirred.
Orange-red flames instantly surged from her body, carrying scorching heat waves, quickly enveloping her drenched patient gown.
Water vapor hissed, white mist permeated the air, and her clothes visibly began to dry.
However, in the next second, the flames seemed to hit a fast-forward button, suddenly leaping high and expanding.
Tongues of fire brazenly licked at the edges of the fabric, and the smell of scorching instantly permeated the air.
Serie's smile instantly froze, and she hurriedly slapped at the out-of-control flames, forcibly pushing them back into her body.
"Wait! Don't burn it!"
Serie certainly wasn't afraid of being burned, but her clothes weren't made of iron either.
"My clothes!"
But she was a moment too late. Her once pale patient gown was now largely charred and curled, with wisps of blue smoke still rising from its edges.
Several areas of the fabric were completely burned through, and along the edges of the charred holes, her snow-white skin underneath was generously exposed.
Against the backdrop of the scorch marks, it exuded a contradictory beauty, like a flower blooming from charred ruins.
Serie clicked her tongue slightly, no wonder it was called Wildfire; it was indeed difficult to control.
She only wanted to dry her clothes, but she almost ended up running around naked.
She tugged at the charred fabric, confirmed the location of the holes to ensure no indecency, and then no longer dwelled on her disheveled state.
She raised her eyes and began to scan her surroundings.
As far as her eyes could see, there were continuous, silent, towering snow-capped mountains.
Biting cold wind carried snow dust, and further away, a snow-covered coniferous forest pressed against the mountains.
At the edge of the treeline, a faint wisp of grayish-white smoke curled upwards.
Serie withdrew her gaze and looked closer.
She was on a relatively gentle slope halfway up the mountain, where an overturned prisoner transport vehicle lay. Its body was charred and deformed by the flames, like a giant burnt skeleton, with no markings, but it was not difficult to guess which organization it belonged to.
Beside the twisted door frame of the driver's cabin, at the edge of the snow pit formed by the overturned vehicle, lay three equally charred bodies.
Their limbs were twisted and solidified in the agony of burning, maintaining the struggling postures of their last moments of life.
The culprit behind all this was also not difficult to guess.