Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

The vehicles moved forward without pause. Half a minute later, the sounds of gunfire and screams erupted ahead.

“Ah! Help me!”

“They’ve gone mad—everyone’s gone mad!”

“No, please, don’t eat me!”

Bang! Bang! Several more gunshots followed, accompanied by the sound of metal clinking and heavy objects collapsing.

Three off-road vehicles abruptly stopped. Qiao Long jumped out and signaled to the gang members to follow. The men loaded their weapons and advanced cautiously.

Hestia lightly pressed against the car seat and leapt out gracefully. Her nimble figure moved through the dark cave without a sound.

While the average person struggled to see in the cavern’s darkness, relying on car headlights and flashlights, Hestia faced no such difficulty. The ability granted by her transcendent pathway activated, rendering her surroundings as clear as if scanned by radar. Even hidden corners behind her were revealed.

Her childhood fear of the dark had driven her to choose this particular pathway, and in this underground environment, it proved unexpectedly useful.

Dodging the rocks in the darkness, Hestia retrieved a handgun from her jacket pocket and held it firmly, taking a moment to adjust to its weight. Though she had never used a real gun before, her school had offered a week of simulated electronic gun training and basic lessons on handling firearms.

The Rose Federation had long been at peace, and its military education had dwindled to the bare essentials. Four centuries ago, every high school student underwent nearly six months of military training, learning to operate various weapons, pilot aircraft, and even manage basic naval controls. The internal wars of that era had been brutal, with millions conscripted every month.

Quietly trailing behind the others, Hestia’s ghost-like movements caught the occasional glance from gang members who turned back. They seemed surprised to find this seemingly delicate girl far from the fragile flower they had imagined.

Before long, gunfire broke out ahead.

The intense exchange of bullets nearly fused into a single, continuous roar. Under the onslaught, the rampaging attackers were reduced to bloody pulp, collapsing one by one.

Half a minute later, Qiao Long raised his hand, signaling the others to cease fire.

A group of men surrounded Hestia, escorting her through the now brightly lit area, while others scouted the surroundings, questioning survivors.

“Where did those attackers come from? What else do you know?” a gang member demanded, pressing a trembling man against the cave wall.

“I-I…” The man’s fingers shook as his voice quivered with fear.

Though the underground world was cruel, witnessing deranged attackers devouring living people had been too much. The sight of entrails and organs being torn apart would haunt him forever.

“Speak up!” The gang member pressed a gun to his head, forcing the man to compose himself.

“They came from the east gate—yes, the pipeline on the east side. At first, we thought it was an enemy raid, but then we realized something was terribly wrong.”

“Didn’t you fight back?” Qiao Long stepped forward from the group.

“We tried shooting, but one of them—a particularly fast one—was nearly invulnerable to stray bullets. It lunged at Will and tore his throat out.”

“After that, everyone panicked. People started running, scattering everywhere. That’s when it all fell apart—what you see now is the aftermath.”

“And that thing? We didn’t see any special attackers just now.”

“I don’t know. It might have gone somewhere else—or is hiding in a corner.”

At these words, everyone immediately scanned their surroundings, their vigilance heightened. Still, they found nothing.

“It’s above.”

Amid the tension, Hestia’s cold, clear voice cut through the noise.

Everyone looked up. The beam of a flashlight revealed a grotesque, blood-red figure clinging to the cave ceiling.

Gunfire erupted again as the group concentrated their fire, but the creature moved with alarming speed, quickly vanishing into the darkness. Many bullets struck only empty air.

_____________________

[Deranged Human]

Status: Lightly injured, mutated (beast-like, irrational)

Pathway: Blade Sequence 4 (Evaluation: Advanced Silver Grade)

Abilities: Enhanced Physique, Beastly Perception, Razor-sharp Claws, Infection

______________________

As the creature disappeared around a corner, Hestia pieced together bits of information in her mind. Despite its insanity and mutations, it retained some intelligence—enough to employ basic ambush tactics and decoys.

“Ignore it. We move on.” Qiao Long frowned at the direction the creature had fled but prioritized their mission to rescue others.

“Understood.” The others holstered their weapons, forming a protective circle around Hestia as they quickened their pace.

The path ahead was no longer navigable by vehicle, forcing the group to continue on foot. The cave system twisted like a labyrinth, but the gang seemed familiar with the terrain and moved with confidence.

Finally, after over ten minutes of walking, they reached another outpost.

In a rugged cavern corner fortified with concrete and steel, a central iron gate stood closed. Several gun barrels protruded from a side window, keeping watch. The ground outside bore traces of blood and corpses, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt remains.

“It’s Brother Long!” someone inside shouted upon spotting Qiao Long. The iron gate creaked open, revealing a long corridor.

Passing through the gateway, Hestia could hear faint groans of pain from a nearby room. Clearly, the injured were not few.

Guards stepped aside to let the group through. After traversing two additional steel doors, they arrived in a clean, spacious room resembling a classroom. Eight beds lined the walls, seven were occupied. Some patients bore hastily bandaged wounds, others lay unconscious, and two were encased in rectangular blocks of ice, their conditions unclear.

“Well, well, Qiao Long, you’re back.”

A woman with striking purple-green hair leaned against the wall. Her eyes bore a dark crimson tint, and she wore a deep-purple jacket and leather pants, resembling a barmaid from an underground club. Judging by her demeanor, however, she was likely the group’s medic.

Setting aside her personal terminal, she walked over slowly, and Hestia noticed her black-painted nails.

How unprofessional, Hestia thought.

As a girl who had been preparing to apply to Erin Academy since her second year of middle school, she remembered well the lessons from class: medical personnel were strictly prohibited from wearing nail polish. It could interfere with treatment and leave a terrible impression on patients.

While many girls in her class had indulged in the trend of manicures, Hestia was one of the few who had steered clear.

“This is the doctor you hired?” The woman sneered, sizing up the masked, hooded Hestia with disdain.

“Looks like a minor student. Honestly, even grabbing someone from a black-market clinic would be better than her. Tsk.”

Qiao Long frowned slightly, walked over, and firmly grabbed her shoulder.

“Let’s step out and let the doctor work,” he said, unwilling to explain further.

Feeling the iron grip on her shoulder, the woman seemed to come to her senses. “Wait, your guy’s still frozen,” she said.

She shrugged off Qiao Long’s loosened grip, walked up to the two massive ice blocks, and pressed her hands against them. A mist began to rise, chilling the room as the temperature dropped sharply. When the smoke cleared, two pale, lifeless figures were revealed.

“All yours, little miss,” the woman said maliciously, casting Hestia a mocking glance before following Qiao Long out of the room.

Once the others had left, Hestia approached the two most severely injured patients to begin her examination. As a medical trainee, she had built up considerable knowledge and skills in this area. Moreover, most of their injuries were external, sparing her from dealing with complex internal conditions.

With a loud clang, the steel door shut. Qiao Long and the woman with purple-green hair waited outside in the hallway. Nearby, other gang members stood guard, ensuring they weren’t disturbed.

“Didn’t think you’d actually go through the trouble of finding someone to save them. It’s hard to believe,” the woman said, pulling a cigarette from a case on her waist. She placed it between her lips and lit it.

“Ah, that’s better,” she sighed, exhaling a ring of smoke to calm her nerves. She glanced at Qiao Long, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

“And now you’re all quiet again? Lost for words?”

“People like us—killing or being killed is an everyday thing. It’s laughable that you’d care about some underlings. So soft,” she said mockingly.

“Would you be quiet if I explained?” Qiao Long opened his eyes.

“No, but I’ll keep your secret,” she smirked.

Qiao Long didn’t trust her promise but knew she’d keep pestering him if he said nothing.

“I’m not like you,” he began, recounting his story.

“I was a legitimate citizen of the Federation as a kid. Sure, I was at the bottom, but I experienced some warmth and human kindness.”

“Bulu joined me when he was 15. Back then, I used a T5-grade meal package to buy him from his abusive mother. He’s been with me ever since.”

“At the time, I was just starting out in the underground. Things often went poorly—I was always fighting, getting hurt, or running for my life. The people around me changed constantly.” He accepted a cigarette from her and lit it.

Smoke curled as he continued.

“Most of the people I knew are gone. Every day was just bloodshed and survival. People like me are common in the underworld. One day, we’re just corpses on the street.”

“I was supposed to die too. I messed with a gang and got shot, but Bulu took a bullet for me, letting me escape.”

“After days of hesitation and struggle, I sneaked back into that gang’s base, hoping to rescue Bulu.”

“It was a foolish, naive attempt. Of course, I failed, and they caught me immediately.”

“Their boss didn’t kill me, though. He said I had guts and asked if I wanted to work for him.”

“Oh, so that’s how you joined the ‘Haoen’ gang? First time hearing this,” the woman remarked, surprised.

“No wonder you value that underling so much. He’s probably the closest thing you have to family.”

In the underworld, “brothers and sisters” were vital. In such a brutal environment, having someone to rely on could mean the difference between life and death. These relationships weren’t always based on blood ties but on mutual trust.

Though betrayals happened, they were rare and heavily scorned. A traitor’s reputation was ruined, making it nearly impossible to find anyone willing to trust them again—a dangerous state, as even the strongest needed moments of vulnerability, like sleep or using the bathroom.

As Qiao Long finished his story, he extinguished the cigarette by crushing the ember with his fingers and tossing it to the ground, stomping on it.

“After all that, why not work with me, Jennifer?” he asked, looking at her.

“Ha, are you trying to recruit me? I’m a free agent—always have been,” she replied with an exaggerated expression.

Her words were noncommittal, neither accepting nor rejecting the offer outright.

“I’ll think about it. I admit, your story moved me a bit,” she said with a smirk.

“But my instincts tell me not to agree too quickly. I’ve got my own things to consider. Joining your gang means losing a lot of freedom.”

Their conversation trailed off as the treatment inside continued. However, a commotion began brewing outside.

“It’s them!”

“They’re attacking again!”

Gunfire erupted, interspersed with panicked shouts and the sound of running feet.

With a deafening crash, the steel door was smashed open. Blood-red claws sliced through the air, tearing apart the gang members in their path amidst the chaos of bullets and screams.