The core conflict between the Express crew and Bronya came down to one thing:
The Great Guardian Cocolia's order—to hunt down the three Nameless.
Bronya, as a commander within a surface-bound civilization, couldn't see the true root of the problem: the Stellaron. That was the limit of her horizon—yet it wasn't her fault.
In the dream, what Bronya revealed at her core was kindness.
So Dan Heng judged that if he explained the Stellaron's danger to her, she might become an ally in retrieving it.
Which raised the next question:
Whose subordinate was this "Seele," then?
In the dream, Seele had been an upperclassman, and she and Bronya had formed a band together.
So what was Seele's identity in reality?
Dan Heng walked over in silence, breaking the stalemate in the corner.
He gave Seele a small nod, voice steady.
"Seele… senpai. May I ask what your position is?"
He used the dream's honorific—probing.
"Quit calling me senpai. That was just dream nonsense."
Seele flicked her hand in irritation and answered bluntly.
"I'm with Wildfire."
"Wildfire?" Dan Heng echoed.
"Yeah. We're the ones running the Underworld right now."
Her explanation was short and forceful. Her gaze slid toward Bronya, chin slightly raised—the Underworld's hard edge declaring territory.
Dan Heng understood.
This Wildfire fighter had likely burst into the clinic originally to pick a fight with Bronya on purpose—
Only for that dream to forcibly stitch a bond between them.
He turned to Bronya and met her eyes.
"Then, Lady Bronya—what is your stance now?"
Bronya drew in a breath and straightened her back, trying to regain the poise of the Acting Great Guardian.
She looked at Dan Heng, then at March, Star, and Firefly. The struggle in her eyes hadn't fully faded, but her voice steadied.
"After that dream, I believe the three Nameless do not harbor malice."
"But."
Her tone hardened.
"I still believe the Great Guardian… my mother… issued that order for a reason she must have. Everything she does is for Belobog."
"Oho." Seele clicked her tongue, not even trying to hide it.
In the dream, through the resonance of music, she'd glimpsed the softness and integrity beneath Bronya's armor.
So when she woke, she'd been arguing with Bronya like a lit fuse—
And now Bronya's stubbornness finally set her off.
"Bronya! Can you just use your brain for once?!"
She thrust an accusing hand toward Dan Heng and the others.
"They said it clearly—retrieve the thing called a Stellaron, and the eternal freeze ends, the Fragmentum ends! Why won't you even try?! Why do you treat your mother's words like holy scripture? What if she's been corroded by that thing and she's not the Cocolia she used to be?!"
Bronya swayed—barely, but unmistakably. Her lips pressed into a bloodless line.
Silence fell again, heavier than before.
For more than twenty years, every step Bronya took, every choice she made, had lived under the shadow of Cocolia Rand.
That imprint had seeped into bone and blood—strong enough to warp her sense of right and wrong.
It had long since become more than "mother."
It was order. Authority. The glory of the Guardian.
For Bronya, choosing her mother's side was instinct carved into her marrow.
She didn't know that under the Stellaron's silent corrosion, the Great Guardian had already drifted off the Path of Preservation, becoming extreme and obsessive.
She didn't know that when the Underworld was sealed, Cocolia—so Bronya wouldn't suffer from childhood memories—had personally sealed away Bronya's recollections of that life.
The clinic held nothing but oppressive quiet and Seele's roughened breathing.
Dan Heng's eyes were deep. His thumb rubbed absently at his knuckles. With a thought, his spear—Cloud-Piercer—could tear into existence.
An obstacle.
He weighed it coldly: if Bronya ultimately chose to stand with Cocolia, then sooner or later she would become a formidable impediment to the Express crew's retrieval of the Stellaron—
Should he take her down now, before things grew more complicated?
The thought circled.
And then—
A small, sleepy mumble broke the tension.
In Natasha's arms, Hook rubbed her eyes, nuzzled unconsciously, then yawned so wide her whole face seemed to stretch. She blinked awake, saw who was holding her, and immediately struggled to get down.
"Ugh—old wi—… Na… Natasha-sis!"
She corrected herself at the last second, tiny hands clutching Natasha's coat, voice urgent with panic.
"Natasha-sis, bad news! Seele-sis fainted! I saw her go boom and fall down!"
Natasha's face flashed with weary fondness. She pinched Hook's chubby cheek—punishment for the almost-escaped "old witch"—gentle and controlled.
"Hook, don't panic. Look."
She turned Hook toward Seele.
"Seele's right there. Standing just fine."
Seele cooperated, forcing a cocky grin and trying to sound casual.
"Relax, Hook. I'm fine. Tough as nails."
She even patted her arm for emphasis.
Hook's tense little face finally loosened. She exhaled hard.
"Phew… thank goodness!"
But then she tilted her head, confusion replacing fear, as if she were trying to remember something impossibly wonderful.
"Natasha-sis…"
Her small voice rang clearly in the quiet clinic—pure curiosity, pure bewilderment.
"Hook had a really weird dream just now! In the dream there was a suuuper big, suuuper blue roof up above! And it was shiny! What was that?"
She spread her arms wide, trying to draw the impossible shape in the air, eyes full of awe.
The air froze.
Natasha's gentle smile stiffened.
Then it softened even more—so soft it was almost sorrowful, something tender and aching rising in her eyes.
She opened her mouth, found her throat tight, and in the end she only stroked Hook's hair, voice so quiet it was nearly breath.
"Hook…"
She paused, struggling to keep her tone steady.
"That wasn't a roof."
"That was… the sky."
"The sky?" Hook blinked, head still tilted, big eyes full of confusion.
"What's the sky?"
Natasha lost her words entirely. Her lips trembled; nothing came out.
She only held the child tighter—tight, and infinitely gentle.
Any attempt to describe it now felt cruelly pointless.
For a child born and raised in the Underworld, who had never seen a real sky—
Describing its color, its vastness, its freedom… was a kind of brutality.
And for Bronya, that innocent question was a sharpened ice spike driven straight into her heart.
She whipped her head toward Hook, eyes widening as if something inside her had shattered.
She could force herself to accept the Underworld's hardship: scarce resources, no sunlight, day-after-day labor.
The Silvermane Guards fought and died on the front lines against the eternal freeze and Fragmentum monsters—wasn't their sacrifice even bloodier?
Without the Guards' steel line, Belobog would already be frozen ruins.
That had always been one of her pillars.
But a living, breathing child—from the moment of her first cry—never seeing the sky?
Never feeling sunlight warm her skin?
Never seeing clouds roll, never seeing stars spill across the heavens?
Never imagining the wind over open fields?
Bronya had believed her mother's sacrifices and decisions served a greater Preservation, a greater survival.
She could rationalize immense loss.
But stripping a child of the right to look up at the sky—
Could that truly be called "right"?
And the decision that created this Underworld reality belonged to the person Bronya had trusted without question—
Cocolia Rand.
Bronya staggered. All color drained from her face.
Her pupils dilated, and something solid in her gaze cracked apart with a soundless, catastrophic collapse.
As Bronya reeled—her inner world flipping upside down—Seele suddenly felt an odd connection snap into place between herself and Bronya.
Not physical.
Something mental. A subtle resonance.
It was as if she could pierce Bronya's armor and touch the tidal wave inside her: anguish, conflict, confusion… and doubt toward her mother.
This sensation—
Seele's pupils tightened.
It was familiar.
Just like in the dream, when they'd played together under stage lights and the surging notes collided—when they'd felt each other's heartbeat through music, when sound became a bridge and two hearts laid bare.
Now there was no music.
Yet that same direct contact—heart to heart—broke through the wall between dream and reality and arrived again.
The hostility in Seele's eyes receded for a heartbeat.
She could feel it: Bronya was struggling, transforming, like a butterfly about to tear its way out of a cocoon—trying to break free from Cocolia's invisible grip sunk deep into her bones.
Bronya lifted her head sharply. Her face was still pale, but her eyes burned with a decisiveness she'd never shown before.
She stopped hiding her turmoil and forged it into weight.
Her expression turned grave—almost martyr-like—as she faced Dan Heng.
"I'm willing to help you."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was crystal clear.
"When I return to the Overworld, I'll go to Mother immediately… and plead for you. I'll tell her your intent. I'll tell her the Stellaron's danger."
Dan Heng's gaze stayed on her for a moment.
Then he spoke, calm—yet brutally honest.
"We understand your intent. But I must be direct."
He shook his head slightly.
"I don't believe you alone can persuade the… Great Guardian."
He stressed the title—reminding her what that gulf of identity and stance truly meant.
Bronya fell silent.
Yes. She knew her mother.
In her mother's eyes, Bronya's plea might only prove she'd been swayed—confused—compromised.
But Bronya inhaled, stood straighter, and spoke with grim resolve.
"Even if… even if it's not for your Stellaron…"
She looked at Hook's curious face, at Natasha's heavy silence.
"For the people of the Underworld… so children like Hook can see the real sky with their own eyes—I have to go. I have to try to convince Mother to lift the seal."
That was when Seele spoke.
Her voice was oddly flat—almost bored.
"Tch. Predictably soft."
Not approval. Not mockery either—just drained, resigned.
"But before you go back up to that shiny Overworld…"
She stepped in front of Bronya, eyes blazing into her dazed stare.
"I'm taking you somewhere."
Bronya blinked, confusion flickering.
Where? Why now?
The questions swirled—but she didn't refuse.
Maybe she needed time away from the suffocating clinic, away from everyone's eyes, to gather the fragments of herself.
She nodded.
Seele didn't waste words. She gave Natasha and the others a curt, "We're going," then seized Bronya's wrist—rough, not gentle—and shoved open the clinic's creaking wooden door.
Outside lay the Underworld's perpetual dusk. Scrap piled at the corners. Old engine oil stung the air.
Seele dragged Bronya through tight, twisting alleys at a brisk pace.
Bronya had to half-jog to keep up. Her wrist ached under Seele's grip, but any protest dissolved under that relentless pull.
She followed—passively—eyes scanning the low, decaying buildings, the shuttered windows, the guarded or numb stares that slipped out of the shadows.
They walked in silence for a while—only footsteps and distant machinery rumbling.
Finally Bronya, slightly breathless, asked, "Seele… where are you taking me?"
Seele didn't answer right away.
They rounded a bend. Ahead: several collapsing shacks, rooftops caved in like skeletal ribs.
Seele stopped, gaze fixed on something deeper in the ruins.
Then she spoke.
"In that dream, Firefly and Star were a reunion after years apart—and in reality, they really are. Right?"
Bronya hesitated, not understanding the sudden turn.
"You mean…?"
Seele turned fully to face her.
The alley was dim, but her eyes were bright—like they could reflect secrets buried at the bottom of someone's heart.
"Natasha really did run an orphanage."
She spoke slowly, each word deliberate.
"And when I was little… I really grew up in her orphanage."
Bronya froze.
Her mouth parted, but no sound came out. She stared at Seele, searching her face for a trace of a joke, a test—
There was only hard, heavy sincerity.
Seele didn't rush her. She simply watched, as if waiting for a conclusion she already knew would surface.
"…So," Bronya's voice scraped out, trembling in a way she didn't recognize as her own.
"You're thinking… maybe we're a reunion too…?"
It took everything to say it.
Seele didn't confirm outright.
She only gave a tiny nod and then looked back toward the ruins, gesturing for Bronya to move.
"So you're taking me to that orphanage?" Bronya asked, finally moving again.
"Yeah," Seele answered, blunt.
"In the dream, you didn't remember your childhood. I'm thinking… in reality, your memories might be sealed too."
It sounded like a "guess," but her certainty was iron.
"Why?" Bronya pressed, more urgently now—confused, faintly panicked.
"Why take me there now? Why now?"
Orders. The Underworld. The Guards. Duty.
Everything already crushed her.
Why pry open something that could overturn her entire identity?
Seele didn't look back.
Her back in the dim light looked lean—yet unbending, rooted in this place's stubborn life.
"Because you're lost."
"Lost?" Bronya echoed, instinctively rejecting it.
"You probably can't feel it yourself."
Seele slowed until Bronya could walk beside her.
"Remember the dream—how we communicated through music? That dream's impact on reality is deeper than we thought."
She turned her head and met Bronya's eyes again—piercing, uncomfortably perceptive.
"Right now, I can kind of feel what you're thinking. What you're feeling. You're like a fogball—heavy, chaotic, no direction."
Bronya jolted.
She stopped, staring at Seele like she was insane.
"Why don't I feel that?!" she snapped—privacy violated, fear flaring into resistance.
Heart-sharing? Emotional sensing?
It sounded like nonsense.
"It doesn't matter," Seele cut in, firm, eyes burning.
"What matters is—because of that dream—I can't let you go anymore."
Bronya's eyes widened; heat surged up her cheeks.
It was too direct. Too charged. Too embarrassing—coming from Seele of all people.
She stared at Seele's face up close. There was no flirtation there—only stubborn seriousness.
This idiot—why would you say something that shameful so casually?!
Bronya's fluster sharpened into mortified anger. She almost took a step back—
Seele rolled her eyes so hard it was practically a performance.
"Stop talking trash about me in your head!"
Then she glared, pure irritation.
"I'm doing this for you and you're over there spiraling! Exhausting!"
Bronya choked—caught between shock and the humiliation of being exposed.
At that point, she didn't get to "believe" or "not believe" anymore.
Seele really was sensing some of her thoughts.
That link… really existed.
Seeing Bronya go wide-eyed and speechless, Seele looked—finally—satisfied.
She started walking again, voice settling into a cold, analytical rhythm.
"In the dream, everything you did was basically to get Cocolia's approval—everyone's approval. I'm guessing in real life you're not much different."
She paused, then eyed Bronya's tense profile.
"Maybe add 'protect Belobog' on top."
Bronya sucked in a sharp breath and stopped again, staring at Seele.
"You can feel that too?!"
Those were her core engines—never spoken this plainly by anyone else.
Seele nodded, matter-of-fact.
"In the dream, when you finally got Cocolia's acknowledgment, it was like you broke some heavy shackle and got reborn."
Her words were a merciless mirror.
"But now…"
Seele's voice dropped, rare gravity slipping in.
"You're about to stand against your mother. You're about to resist her with your own hands. Bronya—can you really handle that?"
Bronya fell quiet.
The question struck her deepest fear with surgical precision.
What did it mean to lose her mother's approval?
She didn't dare imagine.
"I'm afraid you won't," Seele said softly, the weight immense.
"So I need an insurance policy."
She stared into Bronya's eyes.
"I figured… knowing where you came from might help."
"Where I came from…" Bronya repeated.
"'A person who was always from the Overworld' and 'someone from the Underworld who left and buried that past'—those aren't the same thing. Not to you."
Seele's voice was coldly certain.
"I know you, Bronya. Better than you think. Maybe even better than you know yourself."
Her eyes sharpened.
"Once you confirm you also came from the Underworld—once you truly understand what this place has endured—you'll take every bit of the Underworld's suffering and shoulder it as your responsibility. You'll call it a debt. A failure."
Seele spoke like prophecy—because she could taste the self-destructive responsibility in Bronya's bones.
"And that responsibility," Seele said, cutting clean, "will become your new drive after you lose Cocolia."
"It'll be a leash. You won't be able to fall. You won't have time to drown in grief or confusion."
Bronya felt dizzy.
The future Seele described was clear and crushing—a mountain dropped on her chest.
Responsibility and guilt so heavy she couldn't breathe.
She didn't even have the strength to deny it—because a colder voice inside her admitted it was true.
If it was real, she would do exactly that.
Bronya lowered her eyes, trying to hide the storm, and let it all drain into a long, tired sigh.
"…That's… heavy."
But she didn't run.
Just as Seele said: if she truly came from the Underworld, then even if she hadn't meant it, her years of ignoring its suffering would become a late-arriving debt—filling the emotional void left by defying her mother.
Guilt and responsibility would become her new pillar.
"I'm just trying to keep you from doing something stupid," Seele said, back to her blunt, annoyed self.
"You're not as 'calm and rational' as you pretend. When you snap, you'll do anything. So yeah—I'm putting a collar on you with responsibility, so you don't spiral and suffocate yourself."
Then she paused—
Her eyes suddenly turned razor-sharp. She reached forward and clenched her right hand.
Dark violet energy condensed instantly, forming a massive, sinister scythe in her grip, cold and lethal in the dim light.
Bronya's instincts kicked in. Her heavy gun was in her hands in the same breath, muzzle humming with charged blue light.
Both of them stopped, bodies angled, eyes locked forward.
"The orphanage has been abandoned for a long time—Fragmentum corrosion," Seele said low, staring into the alley's shadow.
Two grotesque Fragmentum creatures were forming from the air itself—bodies fused from crystal and machinery, gleaming with unnatural light.
Pressure rolled in like a tide.
Bronya held her breath, muscles tightening into absolute combat focus.
And then—something strange stirred in her mind.
Not sound. Not sight.
More like… pure intuition.
She could sense the enemies' positions, posture, the next instant's movement—everything, clean and immediate.
It was Seele's vision.
So this was what Seele meant by "connected minds."
In battle, it was terrifyingly clear.
Bronya's heart thudded. A bizarre sense of control rose.
She didn't speak. Didn't signal. Didn't even look.
She only formed a single optimal timing and angle in her head—
And the moment the thought existed—
A violet blur tore the air.
Seele vanished from where she stood and appeared exactly where Bronya had imagined, as if she'd teleported.
Her scythe screamed through the alley, slamming down on the monster.
A deafening clash of metal and crystal rang out—Seele's heavy strike was blocked, but the impact locked the creature's body for a fraction of a second.
That fraction was enough.
Bronya's first energy shot drilled straight into the creature's unguarded head.
A dull, wet burst.
Its skull blew apart like a punctured shell and melted into drifting quantum motes.
Bronya's second shot detonated against the other creature's blade-arm at an angle so viciously precise it snapped its attack mid-swing.
The blast knocked it off balance—an instant of rigid stumble.
Seele didn't need an order.
She became violet lightning again.
A web of scythe-light stitched across the tight space—so fast the eye couldn't follow.
No flourish—just pure speed, pure lethal cutting.
Before the creature could recover, it was carved into countless fragments and dissolved into nothing.
The whole fight ended in seconds.
Only faint energy hiss remained—and their slightly quickened breathing.
Seele flicked her wrist; the scythe scattered into violet sparks and vanished.
She and Bronya stared at each other, both seeing the same disbelief in the other's eyes.
Too easy.
Even in the Overworld, with an elite four-Guard squad, killing Fragmentum creatures of this grade would have required careful coordination and a brutal exchange.
Not this.
Not clean.
Not unscathed.
Seele felt it too.
She lived by solo combat—speed, burst, instinct—always dancing on a blade's edge, often paying in blood.
But just now… she hadn't even felt like she'd fought.
What they'd produced wasn't simple addition.
It was 1 + 1 far greater than 3.
Bronya's judgment and command were unquestionable—yet her personal reaction speed and observational bandwidth had limits.
Seele, meanwhile, as a natural Quantum-affinity Pathstrider of the Hunt, perceived combat on a level that bordered on absurd.
But she'd also had an obvious weakness:
She'd never learned war the "proper" way.
She lacked systemic tactics and macro battle control. Most of the time she bulldozed with instinct and raw physical ability—she didn't always know how to turn her speed and power into maximum battlefield payoff.
But now?
Bronya was receiving Seele's entire battlefield feed—no delay, no distortion:
energy flow, micro-tremors, attack trajectories, tiny openings—
All of it slammed into Bronya's mind in perfect clarity.
And then Bronya's optimal tactical solutions returned through that same channel, syncing to Seele instantly.
It was like Bronya had gained a top-tier "clone"—one that could execute her will flawlessly and with hardware far beyond her own.
Seele shook out her wrist, eyes bright with excitement and disbelief.
"Hey, Bronya… I feel like we're ridiculously strong right now!"
She strode up and slapped Bronya's shoulder hard—hard enough to make Bronya stumble.
Bronya blinked, rubbing her shoulder, but the warmth of accomplishment and that strange shared surge cut through her earlier heaviness.
The corner of her mouth lifted—small, involuntary.
Seele kept going, practically buzzing.
"Aren't you Acting Great Guardian now? So—why don't we team up and just drag your foster mom off her throne? I bet all the problems disappear."
Bronya's brief smile froze solid.
She shot Seele a sharp look, cheeks flushing with anger.
"Don't talk nonsense! That's my mother!"
Even if they now stood opposite, in Bronya's heart, Cocolia's identity hadn't changed.
Seele clicked her tongue, muttered "hard-headed," and didn't press it.
They continued toward the orphanage, running into scattered Fragmentum creatures along the way.
Each encounter became a testbed for their connection.
Each ended in moments.
Seele's stats plus Bronya's tactical brain was simply too oppressive.
During a brief lull, Seele drank from her canteen, wiped her mouth, and tossed out a casual thought.
"I can only receive your thoughts one-way. And it feels like… whether you like it or not, I can force a peek."
"Yeah. I noticed," Bronya said, thinking. When Seele connected, it was almost effortless—she linked when she wanted.
"And I can only establish the link when I'm actively directing combat, and…" Bronya paused, recalling the sensation.
"It seems like I need you to accept it—or at least not strongly resist. But I also have a feeling this doesn't stop at you. If someone trusts me and is willing to accept guidance, I might be able to establish a similar mental link."
She narrowed her eyes.
"That may be because of my role as a commander."
They walked while trading early observations about the ability.
The Underworld grew more broken. The air thickened with coal dust, oil, and damp rot.
At last, a building appeared ahead—lonely in the gloom.
Its walls were faded and cracked. Once-bright graffiti had dulled to ghosts. Most windows were shattered, patched with boards or cardboard—only one remained mostly intact.
The moment Bronya stepped into the orphanage yard, her feet stopped.
A wave of familiarity rose like a tide.
She exhaled slowly, voice tired, strangely resigned.
"Maybe… your guess was right, Seele. I remember this place."
Seele didn't speak. She didn't even look at Bronya.
But through the link she felt it all: confusion, fear, nostalgia, a thin thread of warmth, and a deep nameless melancholy.
Seele didn't interrupt. She simply stood half a step behind Bronya—silent, present, offering companionship without words.
Nothing needed saying.
Just like in the dream, they began sorting through the orphanage storage room's piled clutter.
Seele dragged out a nearly intact medical kit, slapped dust off it, and revealed bandages, disinfectant, and a few over-the-counter painkillers.
"Didn't think this place still had so much medical stuff. We should bring it back to Natasha later—she'll need it."
She straightened and moved to set it on a relatively clean little table—
Then she froze.
Through the connection, a violent surge of shock erupted from Bronya like a tsunami.
So strong Seele almost dropped the kit.
Her heart sank—and then tightened again.
So it was happening.
She stopped, turned, and looked.
Bronya stood by a dust-caked box, holding a glass snow globe like it was made of breath.
Her fingers trembled as she wiped away the thick layer of dust, revealing what was inside.
"That's…" Seele asked quietly, voice sharp in the storage room's stillness.
"Your childhood toy?"
Bronya nodded, very slowly.
She didn't speak.
She only stared into the snow globe—as if she could see through the glass and into the childhood she'd lost.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 139)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter171)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter100)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter184)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 168
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 156
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 105
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 185
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 160
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 150
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 76
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 97
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 66
Uma Musume: From Beginner 116
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 75
Uma Musume: I Want All 93
I Can Copy Unique Skills 79
Summoning an Evil God, but the 55
Supernatural Multiverse 75
My Harem Is Indescribable 68
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 70
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 66
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 69
Still playing traditional Honk 49
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 53
What Should I Do After Switchi 42
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 50
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 38
Transmigrated as Sukuna 35
Checking In in Demon Slayer 40
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 55
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