"If your clothes are ruined, then they're ruined. With me on your body, what do you need clothes for? I block the wind, keep you warm—what's not to like?"
Hearing You Yi's voice in her mind, Wis'adel said nothing.
She lowered her head and examined the symbiotic suit covering her body.
The black substance clung tightly to her skin. Its texture was peculiar, like a thin layer of soft armor, yet also like some living fabric. Starting from her neck, it sealed itself over every inch of her body with perfect precision, tracing the lines of her slender frame—her collarbones, arms, waist—all of it clearly outlined.
Strangely, though, it did not make her look thinner.
On the contrary, the places that ought to have looked painfully bony were wrapped in just the right amount of thickness. Her shoulder line was subtly broadened, her waist remained narrow, but no longer seemed as pitifully frail as before.
Even her chest now had the faintest rise to it, adding a trace of charm to her otherwise barren figure.
Unable to help herself, she reached out and gently stroked her covered right arm. A strange sensation flowed into her awareness.
Not only had the symbiotic suit failed to dull or isolate her sense of touch—it had actually made it sharper.
Her fingertips could read the fine patterns arranged across its surface. The feel was similar to finely polished keratin, yet it also possessed the supple resilience unique to living tissue.
At the same time, she could sense its temperature as well, pulsing in a slow rhythm that resonated subtly with her own body heat.
And while the symbiotic suit heightened her senses, it also filtered out extraneous noise, preventing mosquitoes, sand-laden wind, or temperature shifts from disturbing her. It only extracted the information she actually needed, amplifying it and projecting it into her consciousness.
The improvement to her senses left her astonished.
But the increase in strength was even more striking.
She could clearly feel the power surging through her body—several times greater than before.
Yet what delighted her most was not the raw increase in force, but the fact that she could now control that force with the same precision as moving her own fingers.
With just a few simple motions, she realized that she could stop her strength midway through an attack, turn a real strike into a feint, and then burst out again a moment later.
She could truly wield her strength with finesse now—every ounce of force delivered at the best possible moment, in the most suitable way.
Sensing her amazement, You Yi's smug voice rang out in her mind.
"So? Now do you realize what kind of existence you've been refusing all this time? If I'd gone to someone else, they'd probably have put me on an altar and worshiped me."
The moment he said it, he had a vague feeling something was off.
Then You Yi suddenly remembered that among this girl's future legendary deeds, there seemed to be one involving her firing an ancestor out like a cannonball.
His memories were hazy enough that he had not recalled it right away, so he hurriedly corrected himself.
"Forget that. Bad metaphor. Anyway, the point is, you've made a killing here."
"Tch." Wis'adel curled her lip, refusing to respond to his self-satisfaction.
She raised her hand and watched the black substance flow faintly with the motion of her wrist, smooth and perfectly fitted, without a single wrinkle. Still not quite used to this transformation, she could not help asking,
"Do I have to keep wearing this thing all the time?"
"Of course," You Yi answered. "We're one now. This is part of your body too."
He paused, then, wanting to reduce the resistance in her heart, dangled a tempting prospect in front of her.
"Right now we're only in the basic state. Once we have enough energy later, we can develop more functions."
"What kind of functions?"
You Yi thought for a moment. "For example, I could install a cannon on you. You'd be able to fire bombs barehanded."
According to the information in his mind, once symbiosis was formed, he could develop matching symbiote abilities based on his host's talents and combat direction.
For instance, if he bonded with a host skilled in fire-based Arts, he could evolve a similar ability by following the host's method of using that power, consuming energy to replicate and expand it. And with sufficient energy, he could continue developing it indefinitely. In theory, there was no upper limit. Launching a fireball on the scale of a sun would not even be impossible.
The only problem was that the amount of energy required would be incalculable, to the point of being nearly impossible to achieve.
"Really?" Wis'adel's eyes lit up.
She had always had an abnormal level of interest in explosions.
Overwhelming destructive force. No need for delicate technique. No need to get tangled up in a drawn-out blade fight with someone. All she had to do was throw a bomb into the target area.
Boom.
And everything was over.
Simple. Direct. Clean.
Unfortunately, reality was nowhere near that ideal. Good bombs were hard to come by, and the materials were even harder to gather. Every bomb she had on her had to be used sparingly, and each time she used one, she had to weigh whether it was worth it.
If that problem could be solved, then would she not be able to blow things up whenever and however she pleased?
After receiving a firm answer, her emotions rose visibly.
"How many days do you think it'll take?"
You Yi thought about it and gave a rough estimate. "A few days, probably. But in the early stage, don't expect the power to be much stronger than a firearm."
Wis'adel did not care. "As long as it can kill people, that's enough. I'll go settle things with those people in a few days."
The "those people" she meant were the ones who had nearly beaten her to death. Even if she had benefited from the disaster in the end, they truly had almost killed her. That grudge was now firmly settled.
Carrying You Yi with her, Wis'adel moved silently along the way, avoiding contact with others as much as possible, and returned to her place.
It was a low little hut built from mud and broken stones, squeezed into a corner of a similarly dilapidated cluster of buildings.
Calling it a cluster of buildings was generous. In truth, it was only a few dozen equally crude stone huts packed tightly together, standing crookedly on this desolate land by sheer stubbornness.
Her house was not large—perhaps a dozen square meters at most. Its appearance was so plain it resembled the dwellings of primitive humans depicted in ancient murals.
In fact, the entire district was built in much the same style: mud plastered into walls, rubble used for foundations, roofs pieced together from scavenged sheets of metal and planks. Most of the houses did not even have electricity, and at night the whole area sank into complete darkness.
Wis'adel pushed the door open and squeezed inside.
The interior was so simple it could only be described as shabby.
A bed made from wooden planks and stones, topped with a layer of dry grass and a scrap of rag picked up from who-knew-where. In one corner were a few empty cloth bags and a handful of odds and ends. Other than that, there was nothing.
"You live here?"
You Yi's voice sounded in her mind, strange with disbelief.
Wis'adel tossed what she was carrying onto the ground and answered casually, "What? Disappointed?"
"Not disappointed…"
You Yi thought for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "It just feels… very plain. Not quite what I imagined."
"Plain?" Wis'adel tilted her head, clearly not grasping the meaning of the word all that accurately.
"I mean there's very little stuff."
"Oh."
Now she understood.
"There's no point having lots of stuff. If you go out once and come back, you're lucky if even half of it's still there."
As she spoke, she sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed a hand into the straw mattress, feeling the familiar give beneath her palm.
"There are too many thieves here. The moment you step out the door, someone comes in rummaging through your things. No matter how well you hide them, sooner or later they'll get found."
Her tone was flat, as though she had long since grown used to it.
"So now I just don't keep things around. No point. I wouldn't get to use them anyway."
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My : pat*eon*com/RuneA
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