Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

The night breeze was crisp and cool, rushing into the hovering vehicle and lifting Hestia’s hair. She sat alone in the back seat, resting her head against her hand, her thoughts lingering on what had just transpired.

Hestia had never felt much goodwill toward someone like Qiao Long, a fringe member of society. If not for her special gift that assured her he wasn’t lying, she would never have agreed to step out.

Accepting an invitation from a stranger—or worse, an enemy—and venturing into a dangerous area was, by any measure, unwise.

Yet, thanks to her songstress ability, the synchronized resonance of their souls allowed her to sense Qiao Long’s urgency and remorse. This hesitation gnawed at her—could she truly refuse and stand idly by while a life slipped away, especially one she had seen before?

Standing in the corridor, she deliberated for a minute. If she refused, it wouldn’t be her fault, strictly speaking, but she’d feel a sense of regret and sorrow nonetheless.

You’re so soft-hearted, a fool really, Hestia thought, quietly mocking herself.

Still, living life calculatingly, always chasing benefit and avoiding risk, would be exhausting. She chose to follow her feelings, to act on what she wanted to do. Twisting even this simple impulse would render all her past efforts meaningless.

Having experienced so many upheavals in life, Hestia had long since grasped life’s truths. The things others cared about no longer held much weight for her.

“I can’t ignore this feeling of what’s right.”

Even though she didn’t like Qiao Long, when it came to saving lives, she couldn’t go against her conscience.

Sorting through her thoughts, Hestia felt an inexplicable lightness in her heart, as if a mental barrier had shattered.

“What exactly happened tonight?” she suddenly asked.

“Apologies, Miss, for not explaining earlier,” Qiao Long quickly replied from the front seat.

“This isn’t just a gang fight or some lower-level scuffle. I wouldn’t disturb you over something like that. This time, it’s something unusual. The enemy isn’t normal—they’re like my master once described: individuals who’ve lost all reason, acting like wild beasts.”

“Is this happening often?” Hestia had assumed her own experience was rare, but Qiao Long’s words suggested otherwise.

“Not before. The underground world has always been chaotic, with people pushing the limits for power, but usually out of greed or ambition—not to the point of becoming madmen. That’s no different from death.”

“But now it’s widespread, as if suddenly, the underground is filled with these people—attacking like rabid dogs and creating total havoc.”

“Doesn’t the Federation intervene in this?” Hestia asked, puzzled.

“The Federation governs the residential zones above Level 70. Some of my companions live below that level—in places untouched by the StarNet. Those areas are harsh and chaotic.”

“Why would anyone live there?”

“Most don’t have legitimate identities. As you’d expect, it’s a mix of scum, undocumented people, fugitives, and those with historical reasons that left them stuck underground.”

“In the stairwells of your residential area, you’ve probably seen remnants of old protest slogans,” Qiao Long said.

“I’ve noticed them. What are they?” Hestia asked, her suspicion growing.

“Exactly what you’re thinking. Years ago, Arpeggio City—and most Northern Districts—experienced severe protests. The conflict between residents and the government became so serious that federal forces had to be deployed from the south to suppress it.”

“The decline of the Four-Leaf Crystal Constellation caused widespread societal problems: reduced welfare, increasingly difficult living conditions for the lower classes, and the growing disparity with the unaffected elites. The resentment built until it erupted.”

“People vandalized government offices, destroyed surveillance systems, looted supermarkets—chaos eroded order.”

“My master got involved in one such incident and was expelled from the academy. His record was permanently stained, barring him from further education or decent work. A once-celebrated genius fell to being an unemployed resident of the slums.”

“With the federal forces’ suppression and conciliatory measures, the unrest eventually subsided. Many were pardoned, but a few core agitators were either exiled or branded, leaving them to drift underground for survival.”

“Some of their children were born there, never obtaining Federation citizenship and confined to that life forever.”

“My younger brother, Bulu, the one you noticed—very tall and heavy—is one of them.”

“He’s been with me for years, from his scrawny teenage years at 15 to his current state. I eventually paid a hefty sum to secure him a basic identity through the police. That lets him access some of the Federation’s facilities.”

“While the record isn’t robust enough to withstand deep scrutiny, it’s still far better than the life his brothers and sisters endure underground. He can even collect free rations each month.”

“Relief meals…” Hestia fell into deep thought.

She had eaten those before. To be honest, the taste was awful. They were made by injecting artificial protein powder and other nutrients into starch, mixing it evenly, then compressing and sealing it. Eating it required soaking it in hot water; otherwise, it was nearly inedible.

Unless someone was a beggar or in dire straits, no one would willingly take such food.

Even so, such food was a rare commodity in the underground world.

Without the StarNet or various terminal facilities, digital federal credits were unusable in the underground world. Transactions were primarily conducted through bartering.

“What do people in the underground world normally eat, then?” the girl continued asking.

“Trash,” Qiao Long replied.

The Arpeggio City was an industrial hub with many food production factories. When producing T5 and T6-grade foods, a lot of defective products and leftover raw material waste were generated. While normal people wouldn’t touch such garbage, it was a vital resource for the underground world.

Every year, underground gangs would clash and fight over this “trash.” If large numbers of federal citizens in the city died, the monitoring AI would take notice. However, life in the underground world held no value. Three portions of a T6-standard meal could easily buy a thug’s willingness to kill someone for you.

“Do the government and police know about this?”

“They surely do, but maybe not in detail,” Qiao Long said, shaking his head slightly.

“As long as we maintain a certain level of order and don’t disturb the residents in the upper 70 levels, they can’t be bothered to deal with us sewer rats.”

“Sometimes, we even help the police with tasks they’d rather not handle, like finding people, retrieving lost items, or pressuring certain companies.”

“Corporate legal teams are crafty. They often exploit ‘reasonable’ boundaries to rake in massive profits before walking away, leaving the aftermath for the government to deal with. When it’s inconvenient for the government or police to intervene, that’s when they need us.”

“Ugh…”

The girl sighed softly, unwilling to comment on such a grim yet real world.

“Let’s talk about tonight’s situation instead,” she said, steering the conversation to the matter at hand.

“Alright. Tonight’s incident revolves around the quarantined D390 Industrial Zone. There’s a dairy factory there, one of the places where we often collect ‘trash,’” Qiao Long began explaining the chaos that had started at the dairy factory and spread outward.

…

“So, everyone who drank their milk started mutating tonight?” the girl summarized.

“Yes. The milk was near its expiration date or already expired and couldn’t be stored any longer. Once transported to the underground world, it was consumed quickly,” Qiao Long explained.

“Didn’t you check it first? Oh, that’s a silly question,” the girl corrected herself. If survival depended on eating trash and expired food, who would bother checking taste or safety?

“No, we didn’t check it. It’s always been like this,” Qiao Long admitted and continued.

“At first, people said the milk made them feel energized and strangely excited. Others reported the same, and soon more people wanted to try it.”

“Everyone thought it was a batch of superior defective products—T4-grade food that had been rejected. T4-grade food often has extraordinary effects, even when expired or damaged, so feeling stronger wasn’t surprising.”

“But as more people fought over the milk, things began to change. Some became increasingly agitated, leading to fights that escalated until everything spiraled out of control. Those who drank the milk turned into crazed, uncontrollable lunatics…”

“That’s everything I know. I hope it’s of some help to you, Miss.”

“Uh, you don’t have to call me Miss,” Hestia said suddenly, realizing that Qiao Long had been addressing her unusually all night.

“I’m just an ordinary student. You probably know my family situation.” She dismissed his formality.

“It’s not about your family. You risked your safety to come to the underground world and save my companion. Out of respect and gratitude for your character, I gladly call you Miss,” Qiao Long explained.

“Regarding the previous incident, I deeply apologize—it was my mistake. I’m willing to accept any punishment you deem fit. If you ever need anything, feel free to command me.”

“‘Command’ sounds too submissive,” the girl said, shaking her head.

“But perhaps there is something I’d like your help with…” She thought of her father, who had been missing for nearly a year.

What had happened to him? Why had he left so suddenly?

The mysteries of the past still awaited her to uncover, step by step.