Friday, August 8th, 8:30AM, CP Convention Venue

The convention runs for the next two days.

Panels decorated with characters from Magical Girl Paradise were being snapped together one by one, forming a small booth of no more than fifty square meters. Wu Qinglan and his team from the doujin circle were in the thick of setting up for the upcoming comic con.

The circle’s name was Witch’s Workshop, originally an anime club Wu Qinglan founded back in college. Even after graduation, he kept it going and expanding. Now it had over forty members, and under the core team’s hard work, they’d finally launched their own original IP—the manga Magical Girl Paradise.

I’d read a bit of it in Wu Qinglan’s car before. Despite the cute-girl-on-the-cover look, the action panels pulled no punches. These magical girls were more fists-and-feet than sparkles-and-wands, leaning hard into the shounen battle genre.

The plot, however, was brutal—characters were dying off faster than pre-cooked meals at a convenience store. Then again, that seemed to be a trend with magical girl series lately—a highly hazardous job.

Even with such a modest booth, they had carved out space for a mini stage—set to host circle performances and autograph sessions.

I was up on a stepladder, wobbling precariously as I hammered up a dark blue backdrop that looked suspiciously like the curtains in my bedroom.

Wu Qinglan, in a bright yellow Hawaiian-print shirt and mirrored sunglasses, was barking orders with a paper megaphone like some over-the-top, third-rate director.

"Kai—no, ahem, young man! Get that cloth higher! It's not imposing enough at this height!”

“You’re standing on it—I can’t lift it higher!”

“Oops, my bad… Wait! I told you to call me Captain here!”

A chubby guy in a checkered shirt and headscarf jogged over, sweating through his paper towel, a DSLR slung over one shoulder.

“Captain! The extra 200 copies just arrived!”

Wu nodded and waved me over. “Young man! Go help Flash move them! I’ll handle the backdrop!”

“…Flash?”

“This fatty.”

Even when Wu Qinglan openly called him that, the big guy didn’t take offense—he just smiled and gave me a friendly wave.

“Yep, that’s me. Flash. Photographer. Short on hands today, so I came to help.” He proudly unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a tight-fitting red tee with a big yellow lightning bolt stretched over his stomach.

“Chang Kai. Also dragged over for extra manpower.”

Yep—dragged over. Because Wu Qinglan had been mooching meals at my place after work, we’d gotten pretty familiar lately.

And once you’re considered a friend by Qinglan, forget courtesy—this morning he rolled up in his flashy red sports car and practically kidnapped me to the venue under the excuse of needing help. Turns out, he’s the textbook definition of a self-centered extrovert.

“In the Witch’s Workshop, we don’t use real names. Just call me Flash.”
The big guy must’ve noticed my hesitation because he gave a sheepish smile and pointed at Wu Qinglan still wrangling the backdrop.
“Captain’s orders—says it helps us keep our ‘spirit.’”

“Yeah, he mentioned that. Still sounds super cringe though. I don’t know how you all say this stuff with a straight face.”

Online handles are one thing, but using aliases IRL? That takes a serious level of shamelessness. Respect to Lei Meow Meow. The dude used to be a full-on guy, and now she’s on stage shouting that cutesy name with pride.

Her heart’s made of steel.

“It’s totally normal not to get it at first. When I joined, I couldn’t handle it either,” Flash said as he pulled out a handkerchief to mop his sweaty face. He looked kind and easygoing—not the type to lose his temper easily. I guess otaku really are harmless after all.

Behind the convention center was a loading zone, already swarming with activity. Vans, SUVs, and carts were moving non-stop, with early birds prepping merch for the next two days.

Flash led me to a blue SUV decked out like a mecha-themed ride—not a single anime girl decal, but the detailing screamed Gundam. Blue base, red-black trim, red rearview mirrors with Zeon logos, and even a V-fin antenna on top.

“This is our squad ride. Blue Destiny!”

“Of course even your car has to be chuuni…”

And such an niche model too. Judging by the V-fin, it had to be Unit 2.

The back seats were folded flat, the cargo space jam-packed with 200 reprinted manga copies. The weight was enough to visibly flatten the tires.

From the driver’s seat stepped a tall, lean man in a wrinkled gray shirt, gold-rimmed glasses, and an exhausted look. His long, naturally wavy hair was tied in the back, with two antenna-like bangs hanging in front.

His hairstyle was oddly similar to Wu Qinglan’s, though Qinglan’s hair was straighter, glossier, and tied higher—more of a proper ponytail. And more bangs.

“Meet Crow—the pilot of Blue Destiny.”

...Pilot? It’s just a car, dude.

Crow gave me a weak smile and a nod. Flash gestured toward me, “This young man is the one our Captain rolled in, umm… how should we actually address you?”

“Oh, I’m Chang Kai.”

“No, I mean a codename. Don’t you have a regular username or something?”

“You’re serious about this?”

I sighed internally. There was no way I could give them my usual usernames—those were all ultra-macho nonsense like True Macho Man or Iron-Clad Straight Guy. Stuff I used to psych myself up as a "real man" after everything.

“If you don’t wanna use a username, a nickname works too,” Crow added. “That’s how he ended up with ‘Flash’ anyways. Feels more natural to yourself that way.”

Crow leaned casually against the car door while helping to give ideas, his voice drowsy and low like he hadn’t had enough sleep.

Wait—Flash is just a nickname? That’s somehow even more ridiculous.

Then I thought about my own nickname and groaned internally. No way I was telling them I'm used to go by “Commander.”

“I’m not planning to join your crew or anything. Just here to lend a hand for the day. So let’s not worry about names then—‘young man’ is fine.”

Honestly, I was only on this pirate ship for the sweet, sweet exhibitor badge around my neck. With this badge, I could bypass the mile-long lines tomorrow and waltz right through the vendor entrance. Bliss.

I liked conventions—just not waiting outside in 40-degree heat.

While they were still arguing about my “codename,” my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Rinka.

“Sorry, gotta take this call.”

Flash gave me a teasing grin. “Someone’s grinning already—girlfriend?”

Only then did I notice the dumb smile plastered on my face. Not even sure why I was so happy.

“No way. I don’t have a girlfriend…”

I stepped over to the greenery near the loading zone and picked up the call, feeling a bit uneasy.

“Hello? Rinka?”

“Kai! Where are you? Can you come over to my place right now?”

She sounded really excited. I could feel her buzz even through the phone.

And I had a good guess why. Last night at midnight, I’d ended up not erasing her name from the notebook. It was still there, in pencil.

“Right now? Can’t. I’ve got stuff going on. Maybe this afternoon, if I’m done early.”

“That divine stone… is it really effective only for one day?”

Not erasing her name wasn’t a whim or forgetfulness—I had my reasons.

I didn’t expect Rinka to be related to Huangfu Fei, but now that they’d inevitably cross paths again, I couldn’t stick to the “one-day-only” story. Otherwise, how could I explain how Fei was still a girl using the same moonstone?

My tone turned serious. Time to improvise like a true cult leader.

“Listen, Rinka. The moonstone I gave you yesterday wasn’t the usual kind. It’s a premium one—direct from the divine emissary.”

“Huh? I did think it looked bigger than the others… Wait, are you saying…?”

“That stone’s effect is permanent. I didn’t tell you at first because I wanted to see how you’d act. But let me be clear—your performance yesterday wasn’t exactly great. You dragged me into a horror movie, after all—hey, are you okay?”

On the other end of the line, I heard faint sobbing—those soft, broken cries unique to girls that tug at your heartstrings.

“I’m fine. These are just… tears of joy.” she sniffled, trying to pull herself together after a minute’s pause.

“Kai-chan… You’re the divine emissary aren’t you? Or maybe even the god?”

I flat-out denied it. “Of course not! Calm down. I’ll call you later.”

I told her to calm down, but I was the one in a full-blown panic. I hung up fast.

Where did I mess up? She's already starting to question my whole divine act. Figures—she’s a top student. Not that easy to fool.

Now what?