After the Black Moonlight’s "Death Escape" Failed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Death-Escape

◎ Will you be able to stay with me forever after this? ◎

The moment Jiao Qingyin locked eyes with Al, she immediately understood the cause of the System’s malfunction.

But how was this possible…?

Systems were products of higher dimensions. As “monitors” dispatched by the Time-Space Management Bureau to each small world, they operated on a level higher than the current world. Theoretically, it was impossible for them to be detected by anyone other than the “Protagonist” of that world.

Jiao Qingyin had been a Protagonist herself; the survival of an entire world had once rested upon her shoulders. She knew that when a “Protagonist” developed an excessively deep obsession, it was possible for them to perceive the System monitoring the world’s progress. Her own unwillingness to die and her desire for survival had allowed her to discover the System and sign a contract with the Bureau. But now, there was clearly nothing around them that should have triggered Al so severely—

What on earth could have caused such a powerful obsession in her?

[Anomaly… Anomaly… Determining virus presence in small world, reclaiming Host data…]

Hearing the System’s voice crackling with static, Jiao Qingyin’s pupils shrank. “No!!”

The task wasn’t finished, and the points hadn’t been collected. But most importantly, if she vanished suddenly right now, Al—what would happen to Al? Al would certainly believe that her own actions had caused Jiao Qingyin’s “death.”

Jiao Qingyin did not want Al to fall into a pit of painful self-reproach due to a misunderstanding. Feeling the suction force pulling at the depths of her soul, she tightly gripped the clothes of the person in front of her.

“Al,” Jiao Qingyin spoke with decisive urgency, “take me somewhere where there’s no one else.”

Al, who was using her mental power to track the abnormal fluctuations, narrowed her eyes and nodded immediately. She no longer restrained her power. A pair of wolf ears sprouted from her head, propping up her white hood into two small points.

A terrifying magical pressure descended upon everyone present. Most people spat out blood and collapsed; even the few stronger individuals fared little better. The dense, orderly ranks from moments ago were now reduced to a few scattered figures barely clinging to consciousness.

Al pulled up her voluminous cloak and wrapped Jiao Qingyin inside, as if hiding a precious treasure she had finally managed to steal. Then, stepping through the air, she began to blink through space, vanishing from sight within a few breaths.

The High Priest coughed up black blood mixed with solid chunks, clutching his chest, a deep fear surfacing in his murky eyes. This kind of power…

Meanwhile, amidst the System’s error reports, Jiao Qingyin once again refused its attempt to pull her temporarily from the world. The System’s duty was to monitor and assist; without special authorization from Headquarters, it could not force the Host to do anything. Thus, before its core database could be attacked, it chose to withdraw first.

[Host… Caution… crackle… System will… rescue as soon as possible…]

After leaving those final, intermittent words, the System withdrew completely from the world. Jiao Qingyin felt a sharp pain in her brain, and her body lost all strength uncontrollably.

By then, Al had flown her to their destination. Just as they were about to land, Jiao Qingyin’s body suddenly spasmed, slumping as if all life had drained from it. A fear rising from the depths of her heart seized Al’s throat. She instinctively steadied Jiao Qingyin, her hands trembling involuntarily.

“…Jiao Jiao?”

It was only a few seconds of silence, yet to Al, it felt like an eternity. In that single breath of time, countless fragments flashed through Al’s mind. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of regret for her actions just now.

Although she was certain she had mastered the method of soul extraction—having guaranteed through countless experiments on her enemies that no step would fail—still… once it involved the person she cherished most, she became hesitant, terrified of any “what if.” Especially since Jiao Qingyin’s current reaction was something she had never seen in her previous trials. What if something had gone wrong…?

As the light in Al’s eyes turned dark and her face began to crumble into a breakdown, Jiao Qingyin’s weak but very real voice rang out: “I’m here.”

Her lips were pale, her fringe was wet with sweat, and a bit of physiological saline seeped from the corners of her eyes due to the intense pain. She looked like someone recovering from a major illness.

As if a giant stone had fallen from her heart, a look of joyful surprise erupted on Al’s face. “Jiao—”

She was pushed down onto the ground by Jiao Qingyin. A kiss tasting of gunpowder blocked her mouth.

Jiao Qingyin had used too many fire spells today, and her body was inevitably stained with the scent of ash and smoke. Now, she forcefully sent that scent into Al’s lips and teeth. Al had countless ways to resist, but from the moment Jiao Qingyin kissed her, her brain completely shut down, losing all ability to think. What was happening was more beautiful than even her best dreams over the past year.

Jiao Qingyin gripped Al’s collar and sat astride her, deepening the kiss with an undeniable force. She had wanted to do this for a long time, but there had always been various concerns, to the point where they hadn’t even shared a proper kiss before. Since the System’s return, she could only think of Al in secret. A whole year of tossing and turning was a painful torment for Al, but it was no less so for her.

Al was kissed into a daze. Her face was flushed, and she allowed Jiao Qingyin to pull her deeper and deeper. Even when it ended, under the other’s mischievous coaxing, she obediently stuck out a small tip of her tongue.

“Mmm, it seems a bit swollen,” Jiao Qingyin commented.

Her expression was so serious that Al, still in a daze, felt her emotions swayed and became inexplicably nervous.

“Then… then what should I do?” she asked, stuttering slightly like someone facing a doctor.

“Well…” Jiao Qingyin pondered. Al gradually sensed something was off, but before she could react, her lips were gently rubbed again. “A little more kissing, and it should be fine.” She hid a tiny healing spell under her tongue, treating the patient before her bit by bit.

Half an hour later, the “treatment” finally came to an end. After Jiao Qingyin let go, Al panted heavily, her eyes full of dazed infatuation. Jiao Qingyin couldn’t help but stroke those fluttering eyelashes.

By this time, Al had recovered from the sugar-coated shells. She suppressed her impulses with great effort, catching Jiao Qingyin’s fingers.

“You are hiding something from me,” Al said, enunciating each word. Her voice was unsteady from the kiss, but her stance was firm. “What is it?”

Ah, I’ve been found out, Jiao Qingyin sighed inwardly, making no denial.

Ottilia Hughes’s time of death was April 15th, one year later, at 5:05 AM. Today was exactly April 14th. This meant that the time Jiao Qingyin was originally supposed to “die” was still over a year away.

But now that the System had gone back to Headquarters for help, if the Bureau viewed Al as a virus and sent people to purge her… the time they had left was likely very short.

Jiao Qingyin gazed at Al and tilted her head with a smile. “I’m hiding many things from you. I can’t say them all at once. How about you ask and I answer?”

Hiding many things… Al felt a lump in her chest for a moment, then quickly asked the question she cared about most: “Did I hurt you?” She had wanted to ask for a while, but had been thrown off rhythm by Jiao Qingyin’s sudden kiss.

“No,” Jiao Qingyin shook her head.

Al stared at her intently, not missing a single micro-expression, trying to confirm if she was being lied to. Fortunately, Jiao Qingyin’s gaze was frank; she was clearly telling the truth. Al breathed a sigh of relief.

While trapped in Jiao Qingyin’s kiss, she had been simultaneously worried about the other’s physical condition—it was both sweet and painful, as if she were being torn in two. Knowing Jiao Qingyin was fine, her taut nerves finally relaxed a little.

The two were practically pressed together now. Al’s instincts were screaming for her to get closer, but this time, her concern for Jiao Qingyin allowed her reason to take the upper hand.

“I used ancient magic to separate Hughes’s soul from yours, but in the end, she seemed to escape,” Al said quickly, gripping Jiao Qingyin’s hand. “I was afraid she would hurt you again, so I left a mark on her soul to lock onto her coordinates and bring her back…”

Jiao Qingyin nearly choked. “W-what?”

Al meant… she had put a GPS on the System and wanted to drag it back from Headquarters?

“I can catch her right now, but…” Al frowned. When it involved someone she hated, her gaze turned fierce. “I can feel a soul near her location that feels more like her actual self.”

Tracking across dimensions was extremely difficult. From a perspective Jiao Qingyin couldn’t see, Al’s mental power was like countless fine black threads, spreading out from her palm and extending beyond the world.

“…Wait a minute.” Jiao Qingyin suddenly realized something, her heart accelerating.

Al paused, obediently stopping her movements.

“You’re saying that in that place, there is a soul that feels more like ‘Ottilia Hughes’ than the one you saw?” Jiao Qingyin translated Al’s words.

“Yes.” Al’s tone was certain, and Jiao Qingyin’s eyes lit up.

She might have found a way to break the deadlock. A way to pull the straying main plot back on track, prevent Al from being “purged” by Headquarters, and perhaps even… allow her to leave smoothly for her next mission.

“Don’t touch the one you marked. Can you bring the other one back?” she asked.

Al nodded immediately and closed her eyes as she propped herself up. That kind of absolute trust, asking no questions, hit the softest part of Jiao Qingyin’s heart. She remembered the day she had driven Al away; the Protagonist’s trust level on the System interface had reached exactly 100%.

Al’s way of expressing love was clumsy, but it was wholehearted and without reservation. Thinking of herself in turn, Jiao Qingyin found herself a bit unable to look at Al.

Al moved her fingers, her expression turning cold and hard, as if she had found the target. Even with Jiao Qingyin’s strong psychological fortitude, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. Yet, catching a glimpse of Al’s hood suddenly becoming a bit more bulging, her nervousness was joined by a touch of confusion. Was there something there?

Just then, a spiral-like suction force came from in front of them. Out of caution for the unknown, Jiao Qingyin immediately stood up, gripped her saber, and took a protective stance over Al. Soon, a transparent, screaming humanoid figure appeared in her field of vision.

It was Ottilia Hughes. The real Ottilia Hughes.

Straw-blonde hair, brown eyes, and a face marred by the exhaustion and ferocity of years of debauchery. Her face, which could barely be called delicate, looked much older than her actual age due to heavy eye bags and nasolabial folds. She looked terrified, flailing her limbs and screaming in an attempt to escape.

Al opened her eyes and saw this transparent soul. Countless memories that had been “replaced” flooded into her mind like a deluge.

Ottilia Hughes with a long whip, laughing cruelly as she broke Al’s legs. Waking up to the gentle gaze of a black-haired, black-eyed stranger. An enemy who used every insult to try and make her kneel in submission. A beloved who taught her how to love someone, told her to take care of her body, and smiled faintly at her.

The dark, cramped Red Tower; slaves being sent to hell like a river; a Prince’s manor always filled with screams. Buildings being demolished; vast fertile fields within the fief; people with smiles on their faces.

Al remembered. “Dual souls” or “sharing a body”—Ottilia Hughes and her Jiao Jiao were clearly two completely different people. One was as filthy as a sewer bug, while the other was someone she was willing to give everything for. At the thought that she had once blamed Jiao Qingyin for the crimes Hughes should have answered for, Al wanted nothing more than to kill her past self.

“Still not dead, I see.” Jiao Qingyin looked at Hughes, lowered her saber, and let out a cold laugh.

When she first transmigrated into this world, Hughes had been sent to Headquarters for judgment. She hadn’t expected that after all this time, the woman would still be alive. Jiao Qingyin remembered the System saying that at Headquarters, taking an hour off required signatures from five leaders; she had thought the efficiency was too low then, but now she found the system quite to her liking.

“What was your sentence?” Jiao Qingyin asked.

“I… I don’t know—I was waiting for my sentence, and while I was in line, I was suddenly dragged here—AAHH!!”

Al had tightened several thin black threads around her neck. Cold fire burned in Al’s eyes. She already hated Hughes for what happened in the past, and now realizing her perception had been modified and she had blamed Jiao Qingyin, all her old and new grudges flared up. Attacks applied directly to the soul were like branding irons on skin. Hughes’s screams eventually lost their sound. By the time Al let go, white smoke was rising from her dying soul form.

After a brief venting of rage, Al looked at Jiao Qingyin. “Jiao Jiao, what do you want to do?” As she spoke, she realized she was a bit far from Jiao Qingyin, so she moved her feet subtly to press back against her side.

Jiao Qingyin was drafting a report to send to Headquarters in her mind. Seeing Al approach, she said, “Leave the rest to me.”

“…” Al saw her gaze drift slightly and instinctively grabbed Jiao Qingyin’s sleeve.

Jiao Jiao was not of this world. The other woman had actually shown many flaws before her, but she only realized it now. Under the orders of a certain person or organization, Jiao Qingyin had come to this world, taken Hughes’s identity, and played the part of the original person while often doing things that were purposeful but unlike her.

…Just like doing a mission. But there would eventually be a day when all missions were finished. When that day came, would she still stay in this world?

A fear from her heart made Al wrap her arms around Jiao Qingyin’s waist. Jiao Qingyin, who was suddenly attacked to the point where she typed a string of gibberish into the void: !!

“Al, wait…” Jiao Qingyin was kissed into a daze. Unable to push her away for the moment, she panted and promised: “Wait, I’ll stay with you after I finish my business. It won’t be long.”

Al blinked very slowly and then asked in a low voice: “Stay with me for how long?”

Jiao Qingyin was currently writing: “According to my judgment, the reason the protagonist attacked the system was not an anomaly, but because she is powerful and sensed the location of the original soul, wanting to kill her enemy…” She didn’t quite catch Al’s words and replied casually: “As long as you want.”

Al became quiet but did not let go. Keeping her arms around her, she buried her face in the crook of Jiao Qingyin’s neck. “Jiao Jiao,” she murmured.

Only now did she have the heart to sort through what had just happened. Jiao Jiao had kissed her voluntarily. This proved her feeling all along—the other woman really did like her. It was only because of the existence commanding her that she had never voiced these feelings. …It had to be that.

Jiao Qingyin felt a fuzzy sensation against her neck. She habitually reached under Al’s hood and stroked her head. Upon touching smooth, human hair, Jiao Qingyin snapped back to reality, remembering that it wasn’t her own wolf pup leaning on her shoulder this time.

But what she had felt just now were definitely wolf ears—Jiao Qingyin turned her head, and Al just happened to take off her hood. She had tied her long hair into a high ponytail with that bright red ribbon; red against white, like a branch of plum blossoms fallen into a snowdrift. But she wasn’t wearing any ornaments resembling beast ears.

“Is it finished?” Al asked in a low voice, seeing Jiao Qingyin looking at her.

“…Just one last sentence.”

Al’s eyes were too bright, and the emotions in them were too intense. Jiao Qingyin almost frantically averted her gaze, her hands trembling as she typed the last paragraph.

“…I have completed all preliminary tasks. Furthermore, as the original soul has returned to its place and can independently push through the final stage of the main plot, I… apply to leave this world early to carry out the next mission.”

She wrote a very long report, perfectly exempting Al from the attack incident and subtly pointing out that some departments had misjudged the protagonist’s power, leading to these anomalies. To ensure the report was seen as soon as possible, Jiao Qingyin used her one-time Host authority to send it directly to the Bureau’s Supreme System.

According to the Bureau’s efficiency, this report would be prioritized before they sent anyone to handle the “virus.” No matter how strong Al was, she couldn’t face the Bureau head-on. Once this report was sent, her actions—attacking the system and invading Headquarters—would have a logical explanation, and her soul wouldn’t be seized as a threat.

By then… an already powerful Al could live safely in this world, and Jiao Qingyin could take the points earned from her early tasks to her next destination. Rationally, this was their best ending.

Coming to this world and meeting Al was the happiest thing in Jiao Qingyin’s lives, but also the thing she regretted most. A romance destined to end without results… should never have begun.

She lowered her head slightly to hide her reddening eyes, then deliberately pointed to the unconscious Hughes to distract Al. “After her soul was caught by you, she will quickly condense a body over time. At that point…”

She spoke to Al in as normal a tone as possible, emphasizing at what point the woman could be killed. Al listened seriously and nodded when Jiao Qingyin finished. “I remember everything.” Then she used magic to toss Hughes into the next room to be locked up.

Her obedient manner made Jiao Qingyin smile despite her sadness. Whose good dog is this?

Seeing her smile, Al’s heart raced. Without even realizing it, her own lips curled up. She wanted so badly to hug her, but how should she say it…

“Al,” Jiao Qingyin pulled her upright, “let me hold you.”

“…!” Surrounded by warmth, Al’s entire being lit up after a two-second daze, realizing Jiao Qingyin was conveying her feelings. She hugged Jiao Qingyin back forcefully, pressing against her without leaving any gap.

“Too tight…” Jiao Qingyin complained, yet didn’t let Al let go.

Al leaned in and kissed her, then kissed her again. Jiao Qingyin felt a bit itchy from her hair and tried to pull back, but Al gripped her chin and took a bite.

“Ouch… biting again…!”

“I’m biting,” Al mumbled, relentlessly following up with a string of pecks, as if wanting to kiss every inch of Jiao Qingyin’s skin.

“You previously… mmm… wait… Al!”

“What…?”

“The first time you saw me… you bit me. The teeth marks are still there… mmm!”

Al’s eyes widened. She immediately looked down to take Jiao Qingyin’s left hand and indeed found her own bite marks on the webbing of the thumb. The marks were a faint red, like a brand. She couldn’t help but break into a silly smile.

Jiao Qingyin’s heart skipped a beat, and she looked away.

They stayed together and talked a lot. Al gave Jiao Qingyin a tour of her simple dwelling; she was a bit embarrassed to show her such a meager safe house, but soon she brightened up again: “During this year, I built a home you will definitely like. I’ll take you there now.”

Gazing into her sparkling eyes, Jiao Qingyin couldn’t say no.

But before leaving, Al suddenly remembered an important thing. “I still don’t know your full name.”

“…” Jiao Qingyin was silent. Countless spells that could use a true name to curse someone flashed through her mind, but a second later, she answered. “Jiao Qingyin.”

This was the second time she had told Al her true name. Having prepared herself, Al quickly memorized the awkward, foreign syllables and repeated: “Jiao… Qingyin?”

“Yes,” Jiao Qingyin nodded with a smile. “That is my name. The people of my… hometown all call me that.”

Al’s expression shifted. “Then I still prefer to call you Jiao Jiao.”

Jiao Qingyin suppressed a laugh with a light cough. She looked at the window of the safe house and discovered through the glass that it was almost a full moon again.

“Then, Jiao Jiao… will you be able to stay with me forever after this?”

Jiao Qingyin was facing away from Al, looking out the window. Her body stiffened slightly at the words. She didn’t want to lie to Al about such a thing, but…

Jiao Qingyin turned around slowly. Al, having already sensed something was wrong, saw her expression and her face changed drastically. She strode toward Jiao Qingyin. With every step closer, more tentacles sprouted behind her. Pitch-black magic wove into a massive spiderweb, and Jiao Qingyin was like a butterfly about to fall into it.

“Are you still going to leave?” Al’s voice seemed to come from far away, carrying a heartbreaking tremble.