I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

It was, quite specifically, the New York City of the so-called “Roaring Twenties.” Or, put more bluntly and perhaps more accurately—the exact era that Cthulhu-related tales loved to use as a backdrop.

Given that this world clearly had its own “Anomalies” that spat on conventional logic and physics, the overlap felt a little too on the nose. A subtle, intriguing echo.

Still... Pandora’s gaze swept over the map once more, then drifted up to the gymnasium’s high, vaulted ceiling, as if trying to see past the walls and glimpse the boundaries of this world.

This was, at the end of the day, just a Fragment World. Its capacity was finite. Its rules were limited. The level of power it could sustain was, naturally, limited too.

It couldn’t hold those vast, terrible, and unknowable entities. It couldn’t bear the weight of their attention.

Hell, even a fully-fledged Demon Hunter at Rank-4 or above, if they tried to brute-force their way into a fragile Fragment World like this, would likely trigger rejection or outright collapse—their sheer power becoming a liability, leaving them hamstrung.

This was exactly why the Academy only sent apprentices at Rank-3 and below for these cleanup missions. Not just for the hands-on training, but because dropping a bigger stick in here was just overkill and a waste.

………………

“...and that concludes our summary of the campus and the immediate urban district.” The squad leader finished his report, carefully rolling the map back up and tying it with the cord.

“As for anything further out, given our current time constraints and manpower, we haven’t been able to conduct a deeper, more detailed sweep.”

Poppy nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “Good work. Very efficient.”

She paused, letting her eyes trail over her squad members. “Now, what about your second task? Do we have a preliminary plan for establishing a foothold here?”

The squad leader drew a breath; he’d clearly prepared for this far more critical question. “Regarding ‘Identity Integration,’ we’ve drafted three initial proposals based on our reconnaissance. First is what we’re calling the ‘High School Plan’...”

As the squad leader launched into the details, Pandora’s eyebrow ticked upward. “Identity Integration?”

She understood the words literally—making yourself look like a local, blending into the society. But in the context of a cleanup mission, the phrase clearly held a far more specific, professional meaning.

Ophelia caught the fleeting confusion on Pandora’s face. She turned toward her, but instead of launching into an explanation, she posed a question first. “Pandora, have you ever considered what would happen if we walked into a crowd in our current state?”

Current state? Pandora reflexively glanced down at herself, then looked over at Poppy and Ophelia, and finally at Elsa standing behind her.

Her own attire was... passably normal, she supposed. Just some elegantly cut, high-end classic tailoring draped over a modern silhouette.

Still, the fabric and craftsmanship screamed an elite refinement that clashed harshly with this rough-hewn world.

Elsa, on the other hand, in her full, deep-crimson period maid uniform, looked like she’d stepped straight out of a vintage print ad—and even with her sword stowed, that repressed killing edge was hard to fully mask.

Poppy? That bold, exotic outfit exposed a generous strip of her midriff. In this buttoned-up, conservative era, it practically flouted every social norm in sight.

And Ophelia herself, in that pristine, white-as-snow dress with that striking silver-white hair...

Back in the Wastes, eccentric outfits were a dime a dozen. The differences barely registered.

But in a city that was practically a clone of 1920s New York, they might as well be aliens who’d wandered off a fantasy movie set. They stuck out like a pack of sore thumbs.

So the answer, naturally, was—

“We’d be painfully conspicuous.”

Ophelia nodded. “Correct.” She stated it like a flat, objective fact. “Generally speaking, Anomalies are rooted in ‘normality.’ That normality includes both natural laws independent of people, and the social rules and collective perceptions that humans create for themselves.”

Her voice was crisp and cool, as if she were explaining a fundamental theorem.

“An Anomaly might not perceive—or might not care about—the cognitive reactions of a single individual. But once that perception becomes collective... once people widely notice that something is ‘off’ about us, or even broadly realize we possess certain ‘special’ abilities...

...then that collective awareness is likely to be shared and perceived by the Anomalies in the environment.”

“In other words, if we don’t proactively integrate into this society, if we don’t hide ourselves among ordinary people, our presence will be like a lighthouse in the dark.

Weaker Anomalies might detect us and flee or go underground in advance. Stronger Anomalies might be attracted to our conspicuous, foreign nature and actively seek us out. That is clearly not conducive to efficient cleanup.”

“So, through years of accumulated experience, these kinds of Fragment World cleanup missions have developed an unwritten, but widely adhered to, principle.” Ophelia’s voice delivered the phrase with perfect clarity: “Identity Integration.”

Pandora nodded, genuine understanding settling in. She fully grasped the logic chain behind that rule. The Snow had just filled in the exact gap in her knowledge—the “common sense” she’d been missing.

Tossed here on a whim by some irresponsible “woman,” she’d had zero time to study the fine-print protocols and veteran tricks for this kind of mission.

………………

Just then, the squad leader wrapped up his brief overview of the three proposals. Poppy looked at him directly. “So, which of the three do you deem optimal? And on what grounds?”

The squad leader didn’t hesitate. “We unanimously agree that the ‘High School Plan’ is the best solution.”

He laid out the reasoning with practiced clarity, having clearly thought this through.

“One: Ashford Heights Modern High School, where we currently stand, is a highly prestigious, elite local institution. Holding student status here inherently grants a degree of social privilege. It’ll make moving around much easier.”

“Two: The school already has foreign exchange programs. Introducing a few more ‘exchange students from a distant city’ will be perfectly logical and unlikely to arouse suspicion.”

“Three: Our intel indicates the principal has a deep network of connections within the local community. If we can influence him through appropriate means, it will greatly facilitate acquiring more legitimate and comprehensive identity documents later, allowing us to truly establish ourselves here.”