My Brother Can’t Possibly Be a Fallen Magical Girl Chapter 5 Part 3

 Chapter 5 Ink Traces Teahouse (Page 3)

"Swoosh!"

A thick wooden club swung toward her from behind—only to hit empty air.

"Damn, that reaction speed… Are you sure she’s not some kind of magical girl?"

A young man, his face pale with dark circles under his eyes, wore a black short-sleeved T-shirt with a thick gold chain around his neck. His hair was dyed yellow, and his gaze, which had initially been filled with lechery, turned serious in an instant.

"What are you afraid of? No magical girl would dress like this. It’s practically lingerie—so revealing. And look, she’s even got that weird tattoo on her little white belly. The ones on TV are all covered up. This is obviously some cosplay fan out here looking to give us a show."

From around the corner behind the girl, a burly man with a scruffy beard stepped forward, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Exactly. A woman’s right in front of you, and you’re hesitating? If you’re scared, then just step aside."

Beside him, a short man licked his chapped lips, eyes burning with impatience.

"Come on, little lady, just be good and come with us. We’ll take real good care of you."

The bearded man flicked away his cigarette, spat on the ground, and grinned, his brutish face full of malice.

The girl remained silent. She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to determine whether these people were human or some kind of disaster beasts. But the three men had no intention of waiting any longer. They began to close in, their hands itching to take action.

In that instant, her once-dazed eyes turned a deep, ominous purple.

Those who defy the Abyssal Witch’s will…

—Shall perish.

"Aaaah!" "Aaaah!" "Aaaah!"

A series of agonized screams echoed through the alley.

By the time the girl emerged, faint traces of blood dotted her pale face.

Her already vacant eyes now carried a deeper, more chilling emptiness.

She wandered through the winding streets, her heart a tangled mess of emotions, until she stopped in front of a tea shop, lingering there without stepping inside.

The sign above the entrance read: "Moji TeaHouse."

At first glance, it seemed utterly unremarkable, yet it was the only sign in the entire street that she could still recognize.

After a long moment of hesitation, she finally stepped in.

The moment she entered, a faint fragrance of tea drifted through the air, washing away the turmoil in her heart and clearing the tangled thoughts in her mind.

Inside, sleek tea-making equipment adorned the space, wisps of steam curling in the air. A few green potted plants dotted the room, adding a touch of life to the quiet atmosphere.

Business wasn’t exactly booming—only a handful of patrons sat by the windows, engaged in hushed conversation.

When they noticed her arrival, they didn’t seem surprised. Instead, they merely gave her a friendly nod.

Almost reflexively, she nodded back. Without saying a word, she lifted the curtain embroidered with the word "Tea" and stepped inside.

There, she saw a woman lounging lazily on a sofa.

The woman was breathtakingly alluring, dressed in a purple-black lace qipao. Her long, fair legs were bare, exposed to the open air, and a sheer, delicate white veil draped over her slender arms.

She had been idly studying her own slender fingers, but the moment she saw the girl enter, she lifted her gaze and smiled, her expression soft and affectionate.

"Welcome home, my dear sister."