“Naturally.”
Pandora smiled—a faint, knowing smile brimming with certainty.
She also shot Ophelia a grateful look.
“I’ll keep an eye on her.”
She gave Elsa’s shoulder a light pat. The maid, who had been coiled tight as a drawn blade, let her killing intent recede like the tide the instant she registered the signal. She sheathed the crimson two-handed sword and retreated behind Pandora, resuming her usual silent composure.
Poppy took in the scene and just shrugged, helpless. The churning pale-blue smoke coiling around her stilled and dispersed. The massive spectral fox dissolved like sand art in a strong wind, thinning out fast before vanishing entirely into the air.
“Fine…”
Poppy exhaled, straightening her messy crimson curls with a hand.
“I got a little worked up there. Getting jerked around by an Anomaly like that—kinda pissed me off, honestly…”
She admitted her frustration openly, her voice tinged with the irritation of someone who’d just been played.
“That said,” Poppy’s gaze flicked back to the girl still cowering beside Pandora, too scared to lift her head. Undisguised curiosity lit up her face. “I’m still dying to know: what exactly are you planning to do with her? She’s not exactly a pet. She’s the core of an Anomaly that can just pop those freaky Gunmen into existence.”
Pandora looked down.
The girl’s hair was a common shade of dark brown, currently a mess from all the terror and struggling. Staring at the crown of her head, a very specific kind of light flickered in Pandora’s eyes—the kind a kid gets when they discover a clockwork mechanism they’ve never seen before.
“I’m curious about her.”
Pandora’s voice was steady, but underneath it lay something… something not often found among Demon Hunters. It was that obsessive, almost feverish inquisitiveness common among Wizards who buried themselves in the pursuit of the arcane and the unknown.
“I’m curious why she thinks she’s human. I’m curious how she was born. And I’m even more curious about the fundamental nature of Anomalies themselves. How can she manifest her inner fears into those Gunmen—tangible, lethal derivatives capable of wounding and killing…”
Her gaze grew heated, like she was peering straight through the girl’s ordinary exterior and into something deeper. Something fundamental.
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“Every single one of these questions—I want the answer.”
She raised her head, meeting Poppy’s and Ophelia’s eyes evenly.
“I’m going to be in this world for a while. Beyond the necessary ‘work,’ I’d like a little amusement during my downtime. A bit more research material. That’s my reason.”
Poppy looked at her, then at the girl who seemed to have quieted down again solely because Pandora was there—head hung low, indistinguishable from any other terrified kid.
Finally, she shrugged again, palms up.
“Alright, suit yourself. Like Sterling said, as long as you take full responsibility and don’t let her kick up any more trouble.”
——————
Before long, the gymnasium doors creaked open once more.
This time, the six-person squad filed in. Their steps were hurried, their clothes dusted with a fine layer of grit. Clearly, while Pandora and the others had been dealing with “Miss Anomaly,” this crew hadn’t been slacking. They’d efficiently wrapped up their initial recon.
The squad leader approached Poppy and Ophelia, bowing respectfully to the two senior Rank-3s first.
His gaze then swept discreetly over Pandora—and the conspicuously out-of-place girl behind her. A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, but he didn’t pry. He refocused on his mission.
“Ladies, based on our preliminary sweep, the surrounding area is largely mapped out.”
As he spoke, he carefully retrieved a hand-drawn map tied with thin cord from the side pocket of his leather satchel. Dropping to one knee, he spread it out on the floorboards.
“Our current location is a private institution called ‘Ashford Heights Modern High School.’”
His finger tapped a spot on the map where the contours of several buildings were sketched out with a few clean lines.
“According to the school archives and some public records we dug up, this is a recognized elite high school in the region. Known for rigorous academic standards, a conservative campus culture, and a fairly strict approach to education.”
He continued his briefing at a steady clip, dense with detail. The main building layout, the functional zones, the primary entry and exit points, the names and directions of the surrounding streets, even the key landmarks.
Pandora listened silently.
Her eyes traced the map and the stack of illustrated documents the squad leader produced. She noted that a hefty portion of the text was original to this world, paired with translations into the Demon Hunter Academy’s Common Tongue. Meaning their language specialist had already grasped this world’s language faster and more comprehensively than she had.
Mastering a totally alien language in such a short time—even with assistance potions—definitely hinted at specialized prep or training specifically for Fragment World scenarios.
Still, with her own formidable Rank-3 Wizard psychic force combined with the potion’s effects, Pandora wasn’t exactly crawling along. She could already parse the bulk of the information on the map and in the squad leader’s report.
As the briefing continued, and as she combined it with her own sensory impressions of the environment, a rough sketch of this Fragment World rapidly assembled in her mind.
Faint jazz melodies seemed to drift from an open window.
Streetcars might be trundling along, clanging their bells.
People were probably just getting used to getting news from the radio.
A complex subway network might already spider underground.
A female teacher in an ankle-length skirt walking briskly. A male student in a dated bowler hat, books tucked under his arm. Paper newsboys on corners, shouting headlines over grainy black-and-white photographs…
All these shards of imagery clicked together in her head.
Ultimately, they formed the silhouette of an era she wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with—one that felt almost… recognizable.

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