Back at the rented house on Queen's Road.
Perched atop a ten-story rental building, Bella moved like a shadow. She leapt silently from the rooftop, descending swiftly toward the third floor. With a mid-air twist, she slipped in through an open window, landing gracefully in her room without a sound. Every movement was clean and precise—fluid like a dancer, silent like a ghost.
From the adjacent room, she could hear the gentle rhythm of breathing. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Hum~
A soft golden aura shimmered across her body. The sleek black suit she wore—the familiar one she used during her nighttime activities—faded away along with the iconic V-shaped mask. In its place appeared a set of cozy white pajamas, adorned with a cute little dragon print.
This was one of the small triumphs of Bella's ongoing research into magic. Through the manipulation of magical energy, she could manifest any clothing she desired, seamlessly shifting between outfits as needed. Armor was within her capabilities too, but there was a catch—it consumed a considerable amount of magical power. The night gentleman suit she typically wore during operations was light on consumption and didn't affect her combat effectiveness. Full armor, however, was another story—it drained her reserves too quickly for casual use.
She hadn't broken a sweat during tonight's hunt. Bella flopped onto the bed, feeling both relaxed and empty.
Before going to sleep, she opened her status panel—an instinctive action now, like brushing one's teeth. Her eyes scanned the stats.
No change.
Apparently, slaughtering one hundred vampires wasn't enough to trigger an upgrade.
She wasn't too surprised. The aftermath of the massacre hadn't left her feeling much different—maybe a faint sense of progress, but certainly not a leap. Nothing like the dramatic surges she'd experienced in the past after taking down high-value targets.
As her power continued to climb, so too did the threshold for further growth.
Bella understood this well. Those hundred vampires may have seemed impressive in number, but in truth, they were bottom-tier supernatural fodder. They didn't even qualify as members of the Blood Clan; at best, they were blood servants. Weaklings.
Not even worth mentioning.
In fact, any halfway-competent member of the Karen family could've wiped the floor with them.
Still, a little gain was better than nothing. Bella wasn't in a bad mood about it.
She pulled the covers over herself and let sleep take her almost instantly.
A few days later, school resumed. Angie's university started two days earlier than Bella's, so Bella accompanied her on the first day. The school was decent—a mid-tier institution in New York—and the campus was clean, the facilities adequate. Nothing extravagant, but not shabby either.
Time passed quickly in university.
Two years blinked by in an instant.
Bella's campus life was rather uneventful. She stuck closely to her original academic plan, registering for advanced subjects like electron collision studies and quantum mechanics. Heavy material, but manageable with her intelligence and determination.
She also made quite a few friends along the way.
But the biggest headache?
Her appearance.
Bella had always been attractive, even before her rebirth. But with every passing month, as her power and magical essence grew, her physical form evolved with it. Skin became flawless. Her features sharpened with natural symmetry. Her body developed perfectly balanced curves. Her very presence exuded grace and allure.
To say she drew attention would be an understatement.
College boys stared. Some openly, others trying—and failing—to be subtle. Wherever she went, whispers followed.
At first, Bella found it amusing. In her previous life, she had been a guy who admired beautiful girls from a distance, nursing harmless crushes from the sidelines. Now, she was on the receiving end—pursued by confident, charming, and sometimes ridiculous suitors.
It was funny.
For a while.
Then it got annoying.
Their affections disrupted her focus, cutting into her studies. But with Bella's intelligence, it didn't take long to find ways to politely, and sometimes not-so-politely, shut them down. The more persistent ones backed off quickly once they realized she wasn't interested.
Over time, Bella also built a name for herself outside campus.
Whenever she wasn't in class or studying, she occasionally patrolled the streets of New York. Fighting crime, cleaning up the underworld's filth, and sometimes crossing paths with lesser supernatural beings like vampires or rogue spellcasters.
New York came to know her by many names.
The Butcher of the Night.
The Lord of Darkness.
The Judgement Goddess.
Every alias sounded dramatic, but her reputation was consistent—cold, merciless, efficient. She killed without hesitation, leaving no one alive. Her actions earned her both fear and admiration.
Bella only learned about these nicknames when her roommates brought it up in an excited conversation. They didn't know she was the woman behind the V-shaped mask, of course. But they were enamored with the mysterious female vigilante who took no prisoners.
"She's so cool," one of them gushed. "I mean, come on—black suit, white gloves, Oxford shoes, and that mask? Total badass!"
Bella wanted to groan.
Not only were they fangirling over her alter ego, but shops around the city had begun selling custom cosplay versions of her outfit. Seeing cheap imitations of her suit plastered on ads made her want to storm in and sue someone. It felt like infringement. And worse—tacky.
Despite the noise, Bella remained focused on her growth.
In the two years since university started, she'd made decent strides in her capabilities.
Her Power and Magic Release had increased from D- to C-.
Agility moved from D+ to a solid C.
Riding, oddly enough, reached C+.
Intuition crept up to C as well.
A slow and steady rise, not explosive, but consistent.
Her raw strength was terrifying. She had undergone controlled tests and discovered she could now exert approximately 5,000 tons of pure physical force. And that wasn't even using magic-enhanced attacks. Her defense had scaled along with it, making firearms—pistols, rifles, even high-caliber rounds—useless against her. Only large-scale ordinance like missiles might pose a threat.
Alongside combat development, Bella had kept her academic performance high. She maintained excellent grades in computer science, physics, and advanced particle theory, including her favorite field—electron collision analysis.
She wasn't studying for fame or to climb academic ranks. In this world—the Marvel Universe—being the top scholar meant very little without power to back it up. She admired minds like Bruce Banner, Reed Richards, and Doctor Otto Octavius, who were geniuses with shelves full of PhDs.
But in the end, even their fates were often controlled by people in power—capitalists, governments, and secret organizations.
Bella didn't want that for herself.
She had no desire to become a pawn on anyone's board.
Her goal was simple: get stronger.
Strength meant freedom.
Strength meant no one could tell her what to do, where to go, or who to become.
If she was powerful enough, it wouldn't matter if she wasn't recognized by the scientific elite or seated in some ivory tower. She'd have the means to live freely, on her own terms.
This country loved to boast about freedom.
Fine.
She'd make sure that no one stood between her and hers.
If anyone tried, she would send them straight to God.
Until then, Bella was content being a low-key, somewhat lazy college girl—studying during the day, occasionally slaughtering a few criminals at night. A salty little fish, swimming quietly until disturbed.
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