Back in his own living room, bathed in soft, warm light.
Aisen sank deep into the wide, plush sofa, a lazy air settling over him.
The Fire Keeper quietly walked to the entryway, bent down, and deftly untied her laces. She slipped off her white ankle socks, revealing smooth, delicate ankles and a pale arc of her instep.
Then, barefoot, she padded lightly toward the kitchen, leaving a string of nearly transparent footprints—each one faintly misted, as if kissed by water vapor—across the wooden floor.
Before long, a gentle tea fragrance began to spread through the air, soothing and safe.
Curled into the sofa, Aisen found himself drawn to that scent without thinking.
The Fire Keeper was kneeling at a low tea table, fully absorbed in the motions of her preparation.
Unlike yesterday's tight jeans that traced such enticing lines, today she wore a simple long dress of soft fabric.
Unrestrained, the curve of her hips settled naturally above her tucked heels.
The soles of her feet held a healthy rosy warmth, a thin sheen of moisture catching the lamplight. Now and then, she curled her toes slightly; the soft flesh compressed into tiny, cute folds that made her feet look plush and tender.
Her toes fidgeted, tangling and rubbing together.
Her left big toe quietly pressed down on her right, as if starting a silent contest.
A few seconds later, the right big toe flipped up in defiance and took the advantage.
Beneath the plain dress, the rounded line of her hips trembled in the subtlest ripples with each small movement.
Aisen's gaze lingered for a long time—on that gentle curve, on those restless toes.
Because of the side effects brought by sub-group permissions, he felt more restrained than before.
This was a familiar, comforting scene—one that should have put him at ease.
Yet in that moment, what he wanted was a fierce, cathartic battle—something intense enough to throw every messy thought clean out of his mind.
Then Aisen frowned.
He recalled yesterday's "combat," and came to the obvious conclusion: Kafka's purple pantyhose didn't suit the Fire Keeper at all.
The first attempt had been novel. But thinking back on it now, all that remained was a sense of mismatch—an awkward split that ruined the harmony of the whole.
Should he have Kafka go buy other styles, other colors?
The idea barely surfaced before he crushed it himself.
Too inefficient.
And it would… somewhat damage the lofty, detached image he maintained as the group owner.
He could already picture Kafka's expression when she received that message—the half-smile, the amused curve of her lips, the look that said she'd understood far more than he'd admitted.
Fortunately, he already had a better solution.
His original plan had been to visit only one member's world per day—but it was still early.
More importantly, once the idea appeared, he couldn't sit still. He wanted to test it immediately.
He didn't hesitate. He summoned the chat interface.
[Group Owner (Aisen): @PurpleSweetPotatoTaro, are you free right now?]
When the target isn't online, messages don't immediately reach them.
Only an @ mention—or a system prompt from group traversal—could force a popup and grab their attention.
He didn't wait long. Only a few seconds passed before Kafka's reply appeared.
[PurpleSweetPotatoTaro (Kafka): Oh? The group owner suddenly looking for me at this hour? Are you planning to come inspect my world? (smile.jpg)]
[Group Owner (Aisen): "Inspect" sounds a bit severe, but yes—I'm planning to visit your world.]
So… am I free right now?
Inside the Stellaron Hunters' ship, Kafka lifted her eyes from the chat interface and swept an elegant glance across the room.
Silver Wolf was staring with uneven eyes—her look a messy mixture of shock, confusion, and intense suspicion—locked onto another "herself" not far away.
A version purchased through the chat group: a possible-self clone.
The clone was an exaggerated contrast to Silver Wolf's real body—an extremely fitted office skirt suit outlining a frankly explosive figure, especially the armored curve of her chest, forming a brutal comparison with Silver Wolf's flat "runway."
Sam, currently half-crouched and studying them with interest, tilted his metal helmet, his gaze bouncing back and forth between Silver Wolf and her clone.
A calm, electronic synthesized voice delivered a question straight from the soul:
"Silver Wolf. Are you sure that's really your counterpart? Another possibility of you?"
Silver Wolf's mouth twitched. Staring at the clone's identical hair color and eyes, she answered with noticeable uncertainty.
"Based on the feedback from the chat group, she does have an ability similar to my Aether Editing—modifying matter."
The more she spoke, the quieter she got, her confidence draining.
"So… in theory… she should be?"
She sounded less sure with every word.
"Then why is the difference in your bodies so huge? If I remember correctly, you're past puberty, right? Ah! I get it!"
The synthesized voice jumped up a pitch, full of sudden realization.
"Is it like that girl named Mash in Kafka's main group? She's an abnormal case—the only counterpart with a natural lifespan limit."
"And you, Silver Wolf, are the only counterpart who never grows up? Hahahahaha!"
A deep electronic laugh boomed through the ship, buzzing harshly in the enclosed space.
"Ahhh—so annoying! Sam! Shut up! Stop laughing!"
Silver Wolf flushed crimson, embarrassed into fury. She threw both hands forward, data streams of shifting color crackling at her fingertips as her Aether Editing activated—forcing an analysis of the clone.
Then her eyes lit up.
"Ha! I knew it!"
Her tense face smoothed out at once, returning to her usual cool, couldn't-care-less expression.
"This body is just something she reconstructed with her ability. Her original build was about the same as mine."
"So fake. She can't even accept what she really looks like—she has to cheat just to look impressive."
She crossed her arms, full of disdain.
"If I wanted, I could do that with Aether Editing in seconds. But I don't stoop to that."
…Still.
That ratio—seriously? It's absurdly good. Even more intense than Kafka's.
How many references would you need? How long would you have to "sculpt" it before it looked that natural?
…I should probably try it privately, at least once.
Elio glanced at Silver Wolf, as if foreseeing something, and sighed.
Now that he understood the truth, Sam clicked his tongue, not understanding what Silver Wolf was so pleased about.
Was it really better news that all her counterparts were flat, rather than only her being flat?
As for Firefly—whose figure was perfectly normal—she couldn't understand Silver Wolf's logic at all.
Kafka smiled and nodded. She considered this a very convenient time.
Blade had accidentally seen a three-person team photo Stellar had sent her earlier.
After seeing Dan Heng's picture, Blade's mara-struck episode had flared up. Kafka was currently using Spirit Whisper to keep him forcibly suppressed in his room while he "calmed down."
Because of that, the entire Stellaron Hunters' crew was in a rare lull.
[PurpleSweetPotatoTaro (Kafka): Nothing urgent on my side right now. Group owner can just submit a group traversal request—welcome anytime. (rose.jpg)]
[Aisen (Group Owner): OK.]
After replying with his usual brevity, Aisen closed the chat window.
He stood up and rolled his shoulders once.
The Fire Keeper came over at just that moment, holding a cup of tea. Aisen took it from her without looking and tipped his head back, downing the scalding liquid in one go—the heat burning from his throat all the way into his stomach.
He shoved the empty cup back into the Fire Keeper's cool hand.
"Change of plans. I'm heading out for a bit. Going to take a look at Ms. Kafka's world."
The Fire Keeper lifted her head, showing no surprise and asking no questions.
She simply nodded gently, her voice warm and soft.
"Very well. I wish you a pleasant time."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 120)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 100)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 100)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter89)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter86)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter63)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter75)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 53
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 57
From Junkman to Wasteland 35
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin