CHAPTER 426: CHAPTER 426: OH BUBU...

The mist rolled before her like a living thing—curling, pulsing, whispering. It wasn’t normal fog; it shimmered faintly under the moonlight, rippling like silver silk stretched over something breathing underneath.

Isabella stared at it, arms folded tight, her jaw set like a stubborn child about to throw hands with fate itself.

"Bubu," she said sweetly—too sweetly. Her voice had that dangerous calm that usually came right before she lost it. "You know I love you, right?"

The glowing blue screen beside her dimmed, suspicious. "Host, please don’t try to manipulate me."

"Manipulate?" Isabella gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock horror. "Never! Never, I would never manipulate you, Bubu. I’m hurt—deeply hurt that you would even think that of me. I’m simply asking if you really think it’s wise for your precious, delicate, once-human host—me—to walk into glowing mist that literally looks like death perfume."

Bubu’s tone was flat. "Yes."

"...I’m sorry, what?"

"Yes," Bubu repeated cheerfully, as if they were discussing lunch. "You need to enter the mist to fulfill the system task."

"Bubu," Isabella said, blinking slowly, her voice dropping to a whisper that was somehow even scarier. "Sweetheart. Darling. The love of my digital life. Can you, for once, not ruin my night?"

"Host," Bubu said, the edges of its tone sharp with irritation, "you have five seconds to stop complaining and start walking, or I will—"

"You’ll what?" Isabella cut in. "Deactivate my sarcasm skill? You can’t. It’s innate."

The system paused as though buffering from sheer disbelief.

Behind her, Glimora whimpered softly, clutching her shawl with tiny claws. Isabella sighed, crouching to stroke the little beast’s silky head. "I know, baby," she whispered, her voice softening. "I don’t want to do this either. But apparently, your mom has no free will in this world. My therapist would have a field day."

Bubu’s voice flickered again, faintly glowing in the mist. "If you’re done being dramatic—"

"I’m never done being dramatic."

"—please proceed."

Isabella glared at the empty air where the screen hovered. "I hate you."

"I know."

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "You’re lucky you’re useful."

"I remind myself daily."

Seeing that she had lost this argument (as always), Isabella blew out a breath, tied her hair up into a messy bun, adjusted the strap on her small pack, and muttered, "Fine. Let’s go die beautifully then."

Her boots crunched softly over damp soil as she took one step, then another. The air shifted immediately—colder, heavier. Her breath came out in small white clouds, her heartbeat loud enough that even Glimora’s trembling little body could feel it.

Just as they reached the mist’s edge, Glimora let out a frightened squeak and clung to her dress, burying her face in her arm. Isabella stopped, looked down at her trembling companion, and managed a weak, crooked smile.

"Me too, baby," she whispered, her throat tight. "Me too."

And then, together, they stepped inside.

...

The world changed.

The second she crossed the threshold, sound seemed to fold in on itself. No wind, no birds, no rustling leaves—just silence. The air glowed faintly blue, filled with drifting motes of light that moved like jellyfish in the air. The ground beneath her boots felt strange—springy, like walking on water that hadn’t decided whether it wanted to drown her yet.

The mist thinned, revealing a lagoon—a breathtaking one, glowing from within as if moonlight itself had been poured into the water.

Pale lilies drifted on the surface, their petals shimmering with silver veins. Tiny, translucent creatures floated lazily above the lagoon—like jellyfish made of light—each pulse of their bodies leaving soft trails of stardust in the air.

The trees curved inward, their roots dipping into the glowing pool as though drinking moonlight. From beneath the surface, serpentine figures moved with elegant slowness, their scales gleaming in hues of sapphire and pearl.

When they turned, the faint glow from their tails illuminated the water like a thousand lanterns. It was eerily quiet—too quiet—but so beautiful that for a moment, Isabella forgot to breathe. It felt like standing inside a dream made of silver and silence, delicate and dangerous all at once.

And absolutely too quiet.

"Bubu..." she whispered, eyes scanning the empty banks.

"Yes, Host?"

"They’re in the waters, right?"

There was a pause, then the system’s voice echoed faintly inside her mind, calm as ever. "That is correct."

She swallowed. "Perfect."

Glancing at the eerie, glassy lake, Isabella forced a shaky smile and called out, "Hello?" Her voice cracked halfway through. "Is—uh—anyone home?"

The echo came back to her, faint and ghostly.

Silence again.

Then, suddenly—ripples.

One. Two. Three.

The water began to rise.

At first, it looked like a trick of light. But then the surface began to swirl, faster, higher—until it wasn’t water anymore but a towering column of blue liquid shaped like a woman’s form.

The temperature dropped instantly. Isabella’s breath hitched. Glimora let out a tiny squeal and hid behind her neck.

The figure solidified.

A woman—if one could call her that—emerged from the water, her upper body shimmering with wet, silvery skin, her hair streaming behind her like liquid night. But below the waist, her body twisted into a massive serpent’s tail, scales gleaming with an unholy glow. Her eyes were pale—moonlight made flesh.

When she spoke, her voice rolled through the cavern like an echo under water—haunting, melodic, but edged with fury.

"Who dares," she hissed, "to disturb I and my sisters’ peace?"

The water around her churned as more ripples appeared—shapes moving beneath the surface, watching. The air hummed with power, vibrating against Isabella’s bones.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then Isabella, being Isabella, did the only logical thing one could do in a situation like this.

She smiled nervously and whispered under her breath, "...You know what, Bubu? I think we’ve come to the wrong address."

The system’s voice hummed dryly in her mind. "Too late to cancel the reservation."

⚠️ New mission loading. Brace yourself, Host.

"Oh Bubu..."