Chapter Nine: Pixie, the Liver Substitute

Zhao Tianhe carried the magical lantern as he walked through the second level of the labyrinthine caves.

He had already handed his phone to Pixie, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it. Understandable, really—this world had yet to see video games, and he’d just presented her with a premium turn-based mobile game. She could hardly have been more delighted.

“Maybe I should just let her handle all of it from now on,” Zhao Tianhe mused, stroking his chin with a wry smile. “But she has no patience. What if she gets carried away playing and forgets to clear her AP? That would be a problem…”

As Zhao Tianhe pondered, a faint sound of water rustling reached him from ahead.

“A water-element slime? No… a mutated elite!” Zhao Tianhe’s eyes widened at the sight of the towering blue slime, over three meters tall. Without hesitation, he unleashed a Wind King Steel Sever and immediately turned to flee.

The self-destruction of a giant water-element slime was terrifyingly powerful, but fortunately, this was a crossroads. Zhao Tianhe tucked himself around a bend and avoided the onslaught of the high-pressure water jet.

“Damn! More junk!” he muttered, eyeing the blue crystal left behind by the monster. It lacked even the faintest trace of spiritual energy. Chances were, it was as worthless as the black pebbles from yesterday.

Still, clearing out a mutated elite would prompt the dungeon’s registry to record the change, which meant his reward would increase. It wasn’t a total loss. After all, mutated elite slimes were the lowest of the low, and the odds of them dropping anything good were slim.

But as for that rainbow slime—now that was a rare specimen, the first of its kind ever discovered. With such a brilliant appearance, it would be a shame if it didn’t yield something valuable.

“Well, that’s enough for today,” Zhao Tianhe decided, turning back. Without support, venturing deeper was out of the question. Even a random elite monster could easily finish him off.

He hadn’t made much progress today, so the return trip was uneventful and smooth.

When he emerged from the cave, Pixie was still absorbed in the game, happily grinding through stages.

Zhao Tianhe didn’t mind. He settled under the shade of a tree and dozed off.

“Hey, hey! Why can’t I play anymore? This bar—what’s this AP thing, why is it gone?” He hadn’t been asleep long when Pixie shook him awake. She’d burned through all the AP.

“Well, you’ve got a knack for this,” Zhao Tianhe said, logging into his alternate account and setting an alarm. “Let’s try this one. You haven’t seen the earlier story, so play through the beginning content.”

“Oh, and Pixie, you’re just here by yourself anyway. Why not come back and live with me?” he suggested casually, handing her the phone.

“Alright,” Pixie nodded.

“Huh?!” Zhao Tianhe was taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to agree so readily.

“But aren’t you working here?” he asked, gesturing to the little wooden cabin.

“No, I just live here. That thing’s carved there because my house is connected to the ley lines,” Pixie replied offhandedly. “I’ve lived here for years—habit, I suppose. But a change of scenery sounds nice, hahahaha!”

Of course, the most important thing was being closer to food!

Still, she felt as though she’d forgotten something important… What could it be? There was something buried under the house that wasn’t good… But it didn’t matter, really. This was an association facility, after all. Who would destroy it for no reason?

So, Pixie packed up her things and let herself be coaxed back to the dormitory by Zhao Tianhe.

As they left, Pixie glanced at Zhao Tianhe, then back at her little wooden house. She didn’t feel much sadness—after all, she’d be back during the day—but this scene seemed oddly familiar…

Right, she hadn’t originally lived here, either. She’d left her hometown with someone… But she couldn’t remember where her hometown was, nor who she’d left with. Still, Zhao Tianhe did remind her of someone… Who was it? She couldn’t remember…

Thousands of kilometers away, at the heart of the distant Holy Empire, in the capital Baltan, inside the Director’s office of the Hero Academy.

“It’s truly unfortunate, but the quota for heroic spirits is already full this year. We’ll have to wait until next year—such a pity!” An elderly man in a blue and white short robe shook his head regretfully. “They’re all promising spirits of virtue. We can’t let any go to waste, can we?”

“Yes… it’s a shame,” Jeros nodded.

Jeros was a reliable man. He’d traveled directly via teleportation to the capital’s Hero Academy to report to his mentor, the current Director and veteran Grand Summoner, Lokov.

Although both video evidence and Jeros’s own account spoke highly of the candidate, the slots for spirits of virtue had already been filled for the year. The Academy’s resources were limited; Zhao Tianhe could not be called back for retraining. All they could do was reserve him a spot for next year.

“Actually, I think signing him would be a good idea. That young man has a lot of potential!” Lokov patted Jeros’s shoulder, his tone gentle. “I know that tragedy hit you hard, but you have to keep moving forward. My condolences…”

“Master… I…” Jeros furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I still can’t forget her. I can’t forget Mina…”

“Well, as you wish. These things can’t be forced. With your skill, you could handle a B-rank dungeon even without a heroic spirit.” Lokov smiled, comforting him. “But you should rest for now. Stop running around all over the place! Take a vacation at the Elven Sea, relax a bit!”

“I’ll consider it,” Jeros replied, nodding and bowing before leaving the office.

“Hey, Jeros! Remember me?!”

He hadn’t gone far when a striking young woman with a voluptuous figure and a head of gleaming red hair approached him with a bright smile.

“Oh, Kanari, of course I remember you. Have you signed a contract yet? I recall you’re graduating this year, aren’t you?” Jeros responded politely.

“Hahaha!” Kanari let out a hearty laugh. “I flunked and stayed another year!”

Faced with her proud expression, Jeros was momentarily at a loss for words.

“Well, in any case, let’s both work hard in the coming year,” he said, nodding and preparing to walk around her.

But Kanari blocked his path and asked, “Senior, I heard you’re here to clear the name of that so-called useless spirit from the thirty-ninth batch?”

Jeros felt a flicker of annoyance, but replied as he walked past, “Every heroic spirit has latent power and purpose. There are no useless spirits—only overlooked ones… You know who I’m talking about.”

“Of course I do. They’re all Earth spirits, which is why we had such high hopes. Who could have predicted such a gap… But I heard he awakened his gift by slaying a mutated elite monster? Back at the Academy, we had him do similar trials. What kind of monster was it? It must have been something incredible. Then again, if it was that powerful, even a third-tier scroll wouldn’t suffice…”

Kanari, as brash as she appeared, failed to read the atmosphere and continued chattering behind Jeros.

Jeros, growing impatient, replied offhandedly, “Don’t know. He said it was a rainbow slime—probably a new species.”

“Rainbow…” Kanari’s eyes narrowed, her lips curving into a slight smile, as though she’d just heard something very interesting…