Toria once heard somewhere about the so-called “Three Laws of Living,” which go like this:

If people go hungry too many times, they’ll starve to death.

If people don’t eat, they’ll go hungry.

If people have no money, they won’t have anything to eat.

Hence, in order not to starve to death from having nothing to eat, Toria has no choice but to leave early and return late in search of treasure. And now that Hululu is staying at her place, the rations that could have lasted three days have been consumed in just one.

Even though Toria doesn’t know exactly how it works, Hululu can actually eat food, which also saves the trouble of having to charge her.

Originally, Toria had planned—just like last week—to leave Hululu at home. But today, under Hululu’s strong insistence, she could only bring her along.

“Then again, the more people, the more strength we have. Bringing her might help us scavenge more.”

Toria thought to herself.

“And besides, leaving her alone at home isn’t necessarily safe.”

In the misty morning light, Toria raised an old military binoculars she had dug out from a trash heap.

At the moment, she was lying atop a mountain of junk, carefully surveying the terrain ahead through the lenses.

Making sure whether there are enemies on the opposing junk hill is a mandatory lesson for any scavenger who wants to stay alive. If you fail at this “lesson,”you will droping out...of your life.

Although the binocular lenses are slightly cracked and the edges still bear dried bloodstains, after Toria’s careful cleaning and adjustment, the tool still faithfully fulfills its purpose.

She once spent an entire afternoon cleaning each and every mechanical part inside the binoculars with a soft cloth and some cleaning solution she got from Tina. When she first looked out at the distance through the newly cleaned lenses, that crystal-clear view almost moved her to tears.

But for now, Toria was simply looking with intense focus.

About three hundred meters away, wedged between two small mountains of trash, stood a makeshift shack pieced together from rusty iron sheets.

From her vantage point, she could see every detail around that small hut with perfect clarity.

“Looks like they’re one of us,” Toria whispered to Hululu at her side. “See those paths they cleared, and the barbed wire on the roof? That must be another scavenger’s base.”

“Toria, your analytical skills are impressive,” Hululu said with mild surprise. “My quick scan a moment ago didn’t even catch all those details right away—though it might be because of the distance.”

“It’s just experience. If I couldn’t read signs like these, I wouldn’t still be around to meet you.”

Even as she spoke, Toria never took the binoculars away from her eyes.

“Hululu, don’t be fooled by how harmless the trash heaps around the hut look. They’ve obviously been set up carefully. Heh, just as devious as me.”

Her gaze swept across the ground, searching for subtle clues: places where the soil was packed tighter, suspicious angles of metal scraps, or certain junk heaps arranged to create blind spots. All these small details revealed lurking danger.

In a land where everyone scrambles for resources, any scavenger who survives long enough will rig traps to protect their territory.

“Look over there.”

Toria pointed to the left side of the little hut, signaling Hululu to check that area as well.

“Those seemingly random piles of scrap metal are definitely covering landmines or other explosives. Scavengers love using this method to protect their turf.”

She paused briefly, then added, “I do the same thing.”

Hululu tilted her head, seeming to mull over Toria’s words. “But Toria, how can you be so sure there are traps underneath?”

Toria lowered the binoculars and gave a meaningful smile.

“Because that’s the best place to put them. Look at the way those steel plates are placed, right on the only route to that little hut. If I were that scavenger, that’s exactly where I’d set up my defenses.”

She pointed at a few more spots, continuing her explanation:

“See that stack of old tires, and that section of barbed wire fence near the hut? Those places could easily hide more traps.”

“I see. So, what looks like a random messy area is actually filled with danger signs.”

“Exactly. Everyone who manages to survive here has some special tricks. And in their home base, they almost always have a signature way of defending it.”

Toria licked her chapped lips, her voice taking on a graver tone.

“Some scavengers like simple tripwire traps. Others prefer deadly explosives. More creative ones might use things like nerve gas, so you won’t even know how you died.”

Toria continued describing these terrifying traps, seemingly unfazed. Hululu showed a trace of unease, but Toria just rattled them off as though reciting from memory.

“And of course, cunning scavengers like us often combine traps, making them impossible for raiders to guard against.”

“Toria,” Hululu interjected, eyebrows knitted, “forgive me for saying so, but this all sounds rather unsettling. Why set so many traps?”

Toria lowered the binoculars and turned to face Hululu.

“Because this is the Junkyard. If you don’t do this, at best you’ll lose everything you’ve worked for; at worst…”

“At worst?”

Toria’s face darkened at once. Something in Hululu’s simple question had brought up painful memories. She gazed deep into Hululu’s bright blue eyes, as if staring at a piece of her own past she had lost long ago.

She would never forget that afternoon five years ago, under a harsh, pale sunlight. Her mother had gone out and never returned, while intruders broke into their home.

Toria didn’t like to recall what happened next. Yet, unbidden, her mind replayed the scene of herself, barely clothed and covered in blood, sprinting through the junkyard under the cover of night.

“At worst, you get stripped of everything and left with nothing… I will never let that happen again. Never…”

Hululu noticed Toria’s sudden change in expression and cautiously asked, “Toria, are you all right?”

“I’m… I’m fine,” Toria said, taking a deep breath and forcing an awkward smile. “Hululu, you wouldn’t want any strange people barging into our home either, would you?”

“I think I understand.” Hululu looked down thoughtfully. “So that’s why you told me I must walk in a zigzag path whenever I go out…?”

“What shape?”

“Like this…” Hululu made a motion in the air.

“Ohhh, that.” Toria nodded. “Yes, exactly. If you don’t follow my route, you might step on one of my traps.”

“I did detect those traps, but I thought the junkyard itself was just that way by nature.”

“Ha, if that were the case, I wouldn’t still be living here.”

“Would these traps protect us against the twisted creatures you mentioned before? Based on your description, they’re not something my database has any record of.”

“Hard to say.” Toria blinked and shifted her gaze, thinking for a moment. “If it’s some monster crawling on the ground, maybe. But if it can fly or teleport, that’d be harder to defend against.”

She patted the dust off her clothes and stood up.

“Let’s head another way.”

Next, Toria knelt down and gently dusted off Hululu’s clothes. Hululu was wearing Toria’s old outfit—though “old” was actually better than what Toria currently had to wear. That was why Toria was so careful brushing off any dirt.

“Even though I’d love to storm that place and take a few things, the risk of getting blown up by a mine, poisoned by gas, or falling into a spiked pit and bleeding out in agony doesn’t really seem worth it.”

With that, Toria and Hululu turned away from the area and headed for the next junk mountain. As they walked, Toria kept in mind to watch out for any possible ambushes from that “fellow scavenger.”

But the anticipated ambush never came. After a few uneventful hours of searching, Toria and Hululu ended up with enough treasures to call it a day. Hululu’s backpack now contained several decent electronic components and a few metals they could sell for recycling. While not a huge haul, it was good enough for a typical day’s work in the junkyard.

“Maybe I can sell that somewhat intact processor for some canned food. As for the metal parts, I can probably get some tools from Tina… Wonder how much wiring will cost.”

Toria mumbled, half to herself.

Trailing behind, Hululu quietly observed Toria’s pleased expression for a while, then spoke up with a soft smile. “Toria, you seem to be in a good mood.”

“I am,” Toria replied, turning to see Hululu’s smiling face and grinning back. “It’s not every day we don’t run into enemies or monsters, and we got a fair amount of good stuff, too.”

“Still, it’s the first time I’ve realized just how much you need to consider just to survive,” Hululu said, her eyes showing a tinge of distress on Toria’s behalf. “Have you really lived like this all these years?”

“What else could I do?”

“You’re incredible, Toria.”

“It’s nothing special.” Toria scratched her nose with her sleeve. “Once we get to the city, we can pick any odd job there, and it’ll still be better than staying in this wretched place where not even dogs want to linger. All these little tricks won’t matter once we’re there.”

“The city?” Hululu echoed, blinking as she turned to look at the towering walls faintly visible in the distance.

“Yeah, after ‘that day,’ it became one of the last remaining major cities on Earth.”

Toria’s eyes brightened:

“It’s called the City of Illusions—Hlteraz!”

At that, her lips curled into a gentle smile, like someone caught up in a dream that doesn’t quite belong to her.

“As soon as I save enough money to buy two IDs, we’ll get out of this godforsaken place and never look back.”

Toria followed Hululu’s gaze toward those distant walls, her eyes filled with longing—as though she were gazing upon her promised land.

“No matter if it takes five years, ten years, or twenty… As long as I’m still breathing, I won’t give up…”

With those words, Toria’s brow furrowed abruptly. Turning her head away, she clenched her fist as though steeling herself, muttering almost like a mantra:

“I have to live to see that day. I have to…”

After repeating those words several times under her breath, she turned back to Hululu and spoke with solemn resolve:

“Hululu, I promise—I’ll make sure you get to see that day. I swear it.”

Hululu stood in silence for a few moments. Her expression shifted from concerned compassion for Toria to pure admiration. Even in such a hellish world, Toria had never let go of hope for the future. She’d even continued planning and dreaming.

“I believe you, Toria.”

Toria felt Hululu’s hand clasp her own. Though it was a mechanical arm, it somehow conveyed warmth to her palm. She tightened her own grip in return and said softly:

“Thank you.”

By this time, the sun had nearly set, and the two moons were already rising. They were nearly home when Toria noticed something amiss in the terrain around their shack.

“Stop, Hululu.” She held out her arm to halt Hululu’s step.

Years of scavenging had honed Toria’s instincts sharply. Even the slightest abnormalities couldn’t escape her notice. Narrowing her eyes, she studied the land she knew better than anywhere else.

Along the only path leading to their ramshackle home, three fresh blast craters pitted the ground. Dirt and debris were scattered outward in irregular radial patterns.

“Stay on guard.” Toria lowered the shotgun from her back into her hands and chambered a round. “Someone’s been here.”

She advanced slowly, weapon at the ready, her expression grim. She recognized these blast marks very well: they were made by landmines she herself had buried.

Crouching down, Toria inspected the details of the explosion site. The distribution of shrapnel suggested the intruders were facing Hululu’s little shack when the blast happened. The overturned soil was still warm, meaning the explosions occurred no more than two hours ago. Blood spatters and scraps of cloth lay scattered around, indicating the intruders had been badly wounded.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

“At least two of them—maybe three. The footprints vary in depth, and some are uneven, likely because they were injured and had trouble standing.”

She pointed to the messy tracks.

“Judging from how they’re laid out, after the first explosion, they panicked and ran, triggering the other two mines. Bunch of amateurs.”

Even as she explained, Toria looked around for signs that her other, more concealed traps had also been triggered. Sure enough, near an old streetlamp, she spotted a length of wire that had been tripped. Following it, she could see that a cleverly hidden snare trap had been sprung.

“Toria,” Hululu suddenly whispered, pointing to the left side of the shack. “My scan shows that mechanism over there has been tampered with too.”

Toria followed Hululu’s gesture, where she saw her prized mechanical bear trap exposed beside a pile of junk. In the fading sunlight, the trap’s steel spikes glinted with a dark, reddish glow. Someone must have stumbled onto it in their desperation. Judging by how fresh the blood looked, they’d triggered it not long ago.

“Idiots. I heard there’ve been new scavengers around who don’t know the rules. Now they’ll learn,” Toria muttered with a cold laugh. Then her smile vanished as she surveyed the area once more, alert to any possible hidden threats.

“Still, this is trouble. I’ll have to reset and bury those traps all over again—just cleaning and re-arming them will take half a day’s work.”

“Should we check inside the hut?” Hululu asked, her optical sensors scanning for any heat signatures.

“Of course, but we’ll need to be extra careful.”

Toria glanced at the shotgun, confirming it was fully loaded.

“If they dared to break in, they might have been well-prepared. Even if it looks like they got blown to hell outside, there could still be someone lurking inside.”

She raised the barrel slightly. “Besides, I need to make sure they didn’t mess with my ‘special surprise.’”

The “special surprise” Toria referred to was the final line of defense she’d set up inside the shack—an especially lethal trap even Hululu didn’t know the details of. If the intruders had triggered it, Toria would be dealing with more than a few bits of scattered limbs and a need to reset traps.

“I’ll go in first. You stay out here and see which traps got triggered.”

Toria instructed Hululu, and Hululu nodded in agreement.

Next, Toria took out two wads of tissue from her pocket, rolled them into small ovals, and stuffed them into her ears. This was her standard procedure whenever she went to inspect tripped traps—just in case her “special surprise” was set off.

“Keep an eye out behind us,” Toria said loudly—her ears were blocked, so she couldn’t control her volume well. She raised the shotgun to chest level, barrel angled slightly downward, ready for any sudden threat.

The old iron door creaked softly. Toria pushed it open just a crack. Inside, it was dark and damp, smelling every bit as musty as always.

She didn’t enter right away. First, she stood at the threshold, letting her eyes adjust. Through the gap, she caught sight of a few dark-red smears on the windowsill.

At last, she cautiously stepped inside.

Surprisingly, the interior was mostly untouched. Only the windowsill showed signs of blood and a few torn scraps of fabric. It seemed the intruders never got the chance to rummage around.

“Probably got interrupted by the traps outside.”

She spoke aloud to herself, walking carefully through the room to check each corner. Following the trail of blood, she saw fresh handprints on the windowsill—someone who’d been badly hurt had apparently tried to climb inside. Judging from where the blood ended, they might have passed out from blood loss or simply given up.

And there she saw the body. Facedown on the floor, its back was shredded beyond recognition, the right arm still stretched out overhead, leaving a streak of blood across the floor. It seemed to plead, “Don’t stop now.”

Toria ignored the corpse. She had more pressing matters: checking her most important trap.

She walked to the television, carefully examining the glass bottle hidden behind it. It looked as though it might be empty—or might hold something—in the dim light it gave off a faint, eerie glow. She had acquired this “treasure” near the edge of the Nightmare Mists. Tina claimed it contained the whispers of some sealed evil god.

Making sure the cord securing it was intact—if someone tried to move the TV, the cord would pull on the bottle, unleashing the cursed whispers inside to echo through the room, killing anyone who heard them—Toria nodded in satisfaction.

“Even my final defense wasn’t triggered,” she murmured, touching the glass lightly. “Looks like my traps did their job.”

Removing her makeshift earplugs, she began inspecting her supplies. The storage box was intact, the rack of canned goods untouched, even the spare parts in the corner undisturbed.

She gave a wry chuckle. “They didn’t even bother scouting first before trying to rob this place. Do they have any idea whose territory this is?”

“Toria, I’ve finished my inspection. My scan shows two corpses over by the junk pile in the northwest corner.”

Hululu’s voice came from outside.

“One of them is only half a body; appears to have been killed by an explosive. The other is in the pit trap. Judging by its heat signature, the body hasn’t gone cold yet—so the death probably happened less than two hours ago…”

Hululu paused for a moment, sounding startled. “No, he’s still alive.”

“So two of them got caught, plus this one inside makes three,” Toria said, walking to the doorway and gazing toward where Hululu was pointing.

“Likely two got killed by the mines first, and the third tried to flee but stepped right into those spikes. Those iron spikes must’ve turned him into a pincushion.”

“Should we take a look?”

“Of course,” Toria said, double-checking her shotgun. “They might have something valuable on them.”

“All right. Follow me.” Hululu led Toria behind a heap of trash, Toria right on her heels. “The scan indicates there’s still a faint life sign, but it’s fading.”

Toria carefully raised her shotgun and peeked out from the edge of the junk pile. In the long shadows cast by the setting sun, she finally got a clear view of the trap she had painstakingly set up:

It was a pit nearly two meters deep, with the bottom lined by sharp steel spikes scavenged from various metal scraps. Some spikes were thick, some thin, some long and some short; all had been meticulously sharpened and fastened tightly to a concrete base at the bottom of the pit.

Right now, a man wearing a tattered, bloodstained gray jacket lay impaled on those spikes. His left leg and right arm had been completely pierced by a couple of the longer spikes, pinning him to the bottom of the pit. A thick spike had gone straight through his left thigh, and dark red blood trickled down its metal surface. His back was also punctured by several shorter spikes, soaking his patch-covered jacket with blood that glistened in the dim light.

He was still alive, struggling to push himself up with his uninjured right leg. But every slight movement caused the spikes to twist in his wounds, igniting fresh pain. Blood oozed steadily from multiple gashes, pooling into a small crimson puddle beneath him.

From Toria’s vantage point, she could clearly see every wound on the man’s body. The carefully honed spikes were doing exactly what she had intended: inflicting enough pain and immobility without causing instant death—leaving the victim conscious, in case she wanted to interrogate them.

“S… save me…”Seeing Toria and Hululu, the man lifted his head and pleaded weakly,“Help… me… I can’t hold on anymore…”

His face had gone ashen from blood loss, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

“You like my little ‘present,’ dear? You look so… ‘thrilled.’”

Toria let out a cold laugh that echoed like some demon risen from the depths. Standing at the edge of the pit, she looked down at the wounded intruder, her tone mocking.

“But man, you have rotten luck. You didn’t step on any of my mines—unlike your two pals. They went out quick and easy. Heh, probably up in heaven by now.”

“I was wrong… I know I was wrong…” the man stammered, trying to shift his weight, but the movement caused the spikes to tear at his flesh again, forcing a pained groan from his lips. “Please… let me go… I swear I’ll never come back… I’m begging you…”

Hululu stepped forward, and a flicker of sympathy seemed to pass through the optics in her eyes. “Toria, he’s in no condition to threaten us anymore. According to my ethics protocols, perhaps we should administer first aid…”

“Hululu,” Toria cut her off calmly, “for our own safety, I need some answers first.”

She steadied her shotgun, aiming it squarely at the man in the pit. “All right, Mr. Raider. I don’t recall ever doing anything to offend you. Did you come just to rob me?”

“Y-you’ve got it wrong!” he blurted anxiously. “We were just passing by and fell into the trap—”

“Okay, I believe you,” Toria sighed and moved the gun aside. “See, I didn’t set these traps because I wanted to kill anybody. It’s just to protect my home from thieves and monsters, not to take your life.”

“So then…”

“So, I’ll let you go,” Toria said, crouching down at the pit’s edge and meeting the man’s gaze with a gentler tone. “As Hululu mentioned, we can even give you first aid.”

A glimmer of hope lit his eyes. He offered breathless thanks: “Thank you… I’ll never forget your kindness… ever…”

“But—”

Toria’s voice shifted abruptly, dashing the hope she had just sparked. Sensing his renewed tension, she softened her tone again:

“Hey, don’t look so nervous. I just want to know if you’ve got any… uh, family or buddies I can hand you off to.”

“Could you… send me to the clinic run by the Suno Church in Scrap Iron Town…?”

“No can do,” Toria replied, her words edged with a warning. “I have to deliver you in person. Otherwise, how do I know you won’t trash-talk me once you’re there?”

Blood still trickled from the man’s wounds, and his hesitation betrayed the mental struggle behind his eyes.

“I… I’m alone…” he rasped, his voice raw from pain. “My brother was the one killed by the mine. There’s no one else left at home…”

Toria exhaled softly. “Listen, buddy. You know how it is in the junkyard—nothing stays secret for long. If you don’t tell me who you really are, then I don’t know whose people I’ve just killed. For all I know, they’ll come for revenge.”

She stared off into the distance, muttering quietly under her breath, her tone suddenly uneasy. “Damn it, I’m just a nobody without parents or a family. I can’t afford that kind of trouble. I’m too young to die.”

Noticing her apparent vulnerability, something shifted in the man’s eyes.

Catching that, Toria continued, “I’m guessing you found my place because someone told you how to get here?”

His voice quivered a little. “I… I mean… if there’s someone out looking for us—”

Seemingly misunderstanding Toria’s meaning, he took a gamble. Clenching his teeth, he forced an expression of menace through his pain. “You better let me go. Don’t think you can just walk away from this scot-free.”

Toria’s eyes went wide, and she reflexively leaned back in feigned alarm. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“The Rust Gang knows what you did. They won’t let you get away with this.” A smirk formed at the corner of his mouth, as if he’d just grabbed a lifeline.

Toria’s expression darkened slightly, but she continued to look worried.

“The… Rust Gang?” She took a step back. “You mean that Rust Gang?”

“Yes, that Rust Gang,” the man asserted, emboldened by her reaction. “If you dare lay a finger on me—”

Just then, Toria stopped retreating. She lowered her gaze to the man in the pit, and the fear in her eyes vanished without a trace. In its place was a chilling calm.

“You’re saying the Rust Gang’s got your back?” Her voice took on a flat, emotionless quality.

Realizing something was off, the man hesitated. But there was no turning back now. “Y-yeah… so you better—”

“You must not know,” Toria interrupted him, “that the Rust Gang never hires junkyard scavengers to do their work. They’d never send their own people to rob a small-time junk scavenger like me.”

His face went whiter than ever.

“I… I can explain…”

“Explanations won’t help,” Toria replied coldly.

Her gaze drifted to the shotgun in her hands. She ran her fingers along its worn metal stock, tracing every scratch and dent. A glimmer of calculation flickered in her eyes.

“What a waste of ammo,” she murmured, as though talking to herself—or perhaps announcing the man’s fate. She turned her head toward Hululu. “Go fetch my shovel—the one I use for digging through garbage.”

A faint mechanical whir came from Hululu’s optical sensors as they zoomed in and out. She glanced between Toria and the man in the pit, as if wrestling with some complex internal process.

“Toria,” she began, her synthetic yet earnest tone filled with concern, “burying someone alive… my morality module flags that as an extreme measure.”

Hearing this conversation, the man’s pupils contracted sharply. He struggled desperately, but every frantic motion only twisted the spikes deeper, magnifying his agony. Fresh blood dripped from the metal tips, forming an even larger crimson puddle beneath him.

Toria’s lips curved slowly into a chilling smile. Taking the shovel Hululu handed her, she examined the rusty blade the way a craftsman might inspect a prized tool.

“Bury him alive?”

She let out a low chuckle, her voice cold as the junkyard’s metal debris.

“That would be a waste.”

With a swift motion, the shovel traced a harsh arc through the air. In the dimming light, the rusted blade gleamed ominously. Held high like the scythe of Death, it hovered over the man’s head.

“Of course, I’d whack him with one blow, then chop up the corpse into eight pieces. The lean parts I’ll pickle, and the fatty bits can be rendered for oil. That should taste fantastic.”

The man locked eyes with Toria for just an instant and understood he had no chance of survival. His face turned even paler than the blood he had lost. Toria wore a smile—childlike in its purity—yet behind it lay a callous disregard for life, more terrifying than any malice.

“So much meat… enough for us to eat well for a while.”

His lips trembled, gaping soundlessly like a fish out of water. It was impossible to tell if he was begging or cursing, for his voice, frozen by terror, refused to leave his throat.

It was then that Hululu stepped forward.

She came up beside Toria, her exquisite mechanical face reflecting a strange expression. Flickers of blue light danced in her optical lenses, hinting at a logical paradox raging within her processors.

“Toria,” she said at last, sounding almost tormented. “I’m sorry, but according to my ethics protocol, I cannot participate in any act that violates social morality, including the consumption of an intelligent being’s corpse. That breaks my core program directives.”

Toria froze, lowering the shovel slowly. She bowed her head toward Hululu, voice laden with apology:

“I’m sorry, Hululu. This is the only way I’ve survived all this time. If I never ate corpses, I might not be alive now.”

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, like a child caught in wrongdoing.

“I’m really sorry I can’t offer you a more respectable life.”

“It’s all right, Toria.”

Hululu caught the sorrow in Toria’s eyes. After a moment of hesitation, she continued,

“Though I can’t partake, I won’t stop you if you need to. Under extreme conditions, there aren’t many options.”

“Thank you, Hululu.”

Toria nodded gratefully, then turned back, her face resuming its usual coldness. She hoisted the shovel once again:

“Sorry about this. I’ll make it quick.”

The man never heard whatever Toria said next.

Blood sprayed in all directions, and the last rays of the sun slipped beneath the horizon. The sky itself turned black beneath the blazing afterglow.

After finishing their long day’s work—which included resetting traps and dealing with the “ingredients”—Toria and Hululu finally enjoyed a rare moment of rest.

Steam rose in the cold air, weaving a hazy mist around them. Toria had already poured hot water into a large tub, gazing at her own reflection on the water’s surface with a hint of satisfaction.

When she was eight, Toria killed a scavenger who had robbed her, seizing this place with its own water well—a precious oasis in the junkyard. That was the first time she took a life. Although the water here was still contaminated, boiling it made it safe enough to drink. This allowed Toria to avoid industrial wastewater, improving her health. Of course, it also meant more frequent attacks from others wanting the well, but that risk was worth it.

At least she no longer had to worry about water shortages—and could even afford to take the occasional bath.

“Hululu, how’s the water temperature?” Toria asked out of habit, even though she knew her companion might not actually sense heat the way humans do.

“My sensors read the water at 42.3 degrees,” Hululu answered, touching the surface gently. “According to the data in my archives, this should be comfortable for humans.”

“Perfect.” Toria flashed a thumbs-up. “Hurry and get in!”

Without waiting for Hululu’s response, Toria peeled off her clothes in a matter of seconds, tossing them aside heedlessly. She paid no attention to the bloodstains still on the ground or whether her clothes might get stained again.

She took a short run-up and leapt into the tub, sending water splashing everywhere.

“Ahh! Feels great! Hululu, get in here already!”

Hululu watched and opened her mouth, as though wanting to say something—but in the end, she stayed silent. She neatly removed her white dress, shoes, and underwear, folding them and placing them aside. Then she gingerly climbed onto the rim of the tub and slipped her body into the hot water.

The tub had originally been used for storing liquefied magic. It wasn’t worth much to sell, so Toria decided not to waste it and brought it back to convert into a makeshift bathtub—though it had rarely seen use.

It wasn’t large, but it was just big enough for two slender girls if they stayed close. They didn’t mind, though. Toria even found comfort in the close contact of Hululu’s skin, hugging Hululu’s arm.

“Hululu, the temperature still okay?” Toria repeated the question she had asked earlier.

“It’s wonderful,” Hululu replied with a faint smile. “It raises my positive emotion reading to about 97.3—an excellent state.”

Toria let out a small laugh and leaned lazily against the edge of the tub. Warm water enveloped her tired body, drawing out a contented sigh. On a cold night like this, a hot bath was a rare luxury.

Hululu sat beside her, the steam reflecting off her optical lenses. Her white hair, as pure as the dress she had set aside, fanned out in the water like a blooming lotus.

From inside the makeshift shack, a strong aroma wafted through the half-open door. Meat was simmering on low heat, its fragrance billowing out into the chilly night air.

“Hululu,” Toria murmured, gazing at the distant lights of the city, “when we have enough money, let’s buy a real bathtub in the city—something big enough for both of us to soak comfortably.”

“That day will come,” Hululu replied softly. Her lenses flickered, as though calculating the odds of making that dream a reality.

Toria reached out and stirred the water, sending ripples dancing in concentric circles. Reflected on the surface were two moons, one blue and one purple, shimmering in the night sky. For a moment, even the ever-present smell of blood hanging in the air seemed less pungent.

“We had pretty good luck today.”

She eyed the thin trail of smoke drifting from the shack’s kitchen, pondering aloud. Inside, the stew simmered, the steam rising in tandem with the steam in their “bathroom.”

“All that work resetting traps and butchering the… supplies… was exhausting. But the thought of having fresh meat makes it easier to bear.”

Her tone was oddly calm, as if everything that had happened was just part of another ordinary day.

Hululu said nothing. Her ethics protocols wouldn’t allow her to comment on certain actions, yet she understood Toria’s circumstances. In this brutal world, staying alive could be considered a stroke of luck.

Night deepened, and the swirling steam blurred the outlines of their figures. Toria closed her eyes, letting the warm water wash away the fatigue of the day. In that instant, she looked like any other fourteen-year-old girl, rather than a hardened scavenger who fought tooth and nail in the junkyard.

Both of them knew, however, that such tranquility wouldn’t last.

Tomorrow, they would still have to face the endless dangers of this world.

But for now, at least, in this old tub filled with hot water, they could forget everything else and enjoy a moment of rare peace.

“The stew’s probably done cooking. Hungry?”

“Please allow me to decline.”