My Superpower Is Piloting Magical Girl Corpses?

A pitch-black core at the source was violently detonated by a stubborn streak of red.

A terrifying turbulence of energy exploded in midair, all of its destructive force concentrated on that single point.

A mighty roar!!!

In that instant, the demon beasts suffered grievous blows, the thrashing tentacles froze, and the enormous pressure field lost most of its force, allowing everyone to move.

But…

There was a price to pay.

The red meteor vanished in midair.

No last words, no wreckage.

Under that all-consuming energy impact, the girl was utterly annihilated, leaving only a charred microphone staff falling from the sky, smashing into the ground and snapping in two.

“Sen…ior…?”

“Meng…Mengmengxiang!!!”

Tang Keren let out a heart-wrenching scream and dashed forward, clutching the half-broken staff.

Zihan reacted, dropping to one knee, tears bursting from her eyes—

What did I do… I shouldn’t have hesitated just now!!!

The next moment, the gothic girl ripped off the eyepatch from her right eye. Blood tears flowed from the golden pupil, furious magic surged wildly around her, and the surrounding space began to warp and deform.

“Full, open!”

Just as she was about to completely erupt.

Swish.

From a place no one expected.

A sudden silver radiance bloomed, like a deathly lotus.

Airwen, as if dancing, casually slashed with her sword.

It was almost faster than thought and time.

Three phantom swords followed as one.

Ssshk.

With no time to react, Zihan’s skull was precisely pierced through by the silver-gray blade; the golden light in her eyes that had not yet been fully released was extinguished in an instant. Tang Keren’s head was pierced from the side; she fell before she could even scream.

Neither of their spirit outfit fields did anything.

Yet when the silver blade lunged at Su Fang, she somehow managed to react and twisted her body sharply, evading the strike.

Su Fang’s pupils constricted abruptly, her face showing disbelief, an expression of incomprehension.

“Airwen senior… why!!!”

Before her mind and spirit could make sense of what was happening, Airwen lightly hooked a finger with her right hand.

In the next instant, the phantom sword that should have flown past suddenly redirected and thrust again, piercing through Su Fang’s skull without hindrance.

The azure eyes lost their color.

Three corpses collapsed to the ground one after another with dull thuds.

Blood pooled together, staining the gray-white earth red.

Tang Keren’s blood soaked the half-charred microphone in her arms.

All wiped out.

The tenth-generation magical girls who had gone to war to save humanity—aside from Airwen—had all lost their lives.

Airwen stood where she was, eyes lowered, seemingly indifferent to the upper-level Nightmare Seed rapidly regenerating in the sky.

She lowered the silver phantom sword in her hand—the blade gleaming like new, not a speck of blood on it—then looked at the comrades who had once fought by her side and trusted her without reservation. Her expression was flat, as if no regret, no pain existed.

Then she turned her gaze to Su Fang’s body.

“Impressive reaction.”

The silver-haired magical girl spoke softly. “Time and again you advanced, your rate of growth exceeded my expectations.”

Her voice was as cold as ever, yet carried an extremely complex emotion.

It sounded like sorrow, yet also… joy and anticipation.

She walked step by step to Tang Keren’s side, but did not look at her; instead, she looked at the half-broken microphone on the ground.

That was the last trace of the magical girl called Mengmengxiang.

She had fulfilled her promise.

So… I absolutely cannot let her repeated efforts, her repeated sacrifices be wasted.

“It’s almost time, not far now.”

Airwen raised her phantom sword again, gently resting it on her slender throat, then spoke the final words of this cycle.

“Let us meet at the end of the cycle.”

The next moment, the silver-haired girl’s head shot upward.

Everything fell into darkness.

…………

Wind Capital.

Seven days after the Black Cloud Society capture operation.

Wind Capital Police, Western District Branch, Director’s office.

A middle-aged director in police uniform, his face stern and proper, stood beside the desk with his back ramrod-straight. His gaze rested on the guest sofa a few paces away, his expression not daring to relax in the slightest.

“………”

Gao Chenxu.

Forty-two years old, director of the Western District Branch.

In the western suburbs he was practically like a tiger of the major crimes unit.

Though of humble origins with no influential background, he had solved many cases over the years. In the past five years he had raised the violent case clearance rate in his jurisdiction from sixty-one percent to ninety-seven percent, transforming what had been a security blind spot into a respectable area.

Even though many officers and even SWAT knew some of the reasons—aware that an inexplicable youth named Lin Guang had assisted—Gao Chenxu’s own ability, courage, and decisiveness were undeniable.

When people said “commanding without raising a voice” or “righteous and awe-inspiring,” they probably meant someone like him.

But at this moment, he felt like he did twenty years ago standing beside his leader—on guard, unable to slacken for a moment.

About ten days ago, when the slew of baffling, terrifying cases began to shake his worldview, he suddenly received a confidential transfer order labeled “Wind Capital Sixth Division.”

The origin and process were formal, but in his life he had never heard of a division prefixed directly by “Wind Capital.”

The chain of command was vague, the personnel scale unclear, and the scope of duties completely blank.

The transfer notice contained only one sentence: effective immediately, that department will take over recent special cases and clues in the Western District; the entire unit must cooperate unconditionally.

Gao Chenxu had been a detective for twenty years and was already a branch director, yet he had never seen such wording.

It was not a request, not a consultation, not even an order—just a notification.

Last night he finally received a secure line from his superiors informing him that a special appointed commissioner would arrive today to take over the recent special case clues in the Western District.

Of course Gao Chenxu had his suspicions.

Wind Capital, or rather the Secret State government, was surely not ignorant of these anomalies.

On the contrary, it was very likely they had long had a department to handle such matters—only his position had not merited that knowledge before.

But now, he was about to be introduced to it.

So Gao Chenxu had prepared early this morning for the arrival, and he couldn’t help but wonder who the person would be.

A suited elite, a professional agent… no, such imaginings might be too conservative.

A monk in robes? A swordsman in traditional dress? A battle-hardened expert exuding lethal intent?

For a somewhat old-fashioned middle-aged man like Gao Chenxu, that was probably the limit of his imagination.

That was why his mood now was so complicated.

Because sitting on the leather sofa in his office was a young man who looked no older than his early twenties.

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