The Girl Who Looted Tomorrow

The girl who had been crouching in the corner with her arms over her head finally looked up, trembling.

Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

“What… What is this…?”

She had no idea what had happened, but she seemed to be safe now.

The girl scrambled away from the vagrant and ran out of the alley. She looked around and, through the fading evening light, thought she saw a flash of white disappear around the corner at the end of the street.

To Freya, it had been nothing more than a minor interruption.

The vagrant had been about as dangerous as the pervert who had first attacked her. At her current level, Freya could deal with someone like that with a flick of her finger.

She had only used a tiny amount of spirituality, and it had already fully recovered.

Lost in thought, Freya arrived near Third Cross Street.

She put on the Invisibility Cloak and continued toward Euphemia’s rented apartment. The moment she stepped inside, she heard a loud clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen.

Freya removed the Invisibility Cloak, folded it neatly, and set it aside.

She glanced curiously into the kitchen and found Euphemia locked in mortal combat with the cookware.

Quite literally.

Euphemia held a pot lid in her left hand like a shield. In her right hand was a spatula, which she used to poke cautiously at the fish thrashing around inside the pan.

Freya stared at her in silence.

A little while later, Euphemia placed the spoils of her hard-fought battle on the dining table.

Freya examined the dishes in front of her. She pointed at something black and charred beyond recognition.

“What is this?”

Euphemia hesitated.

“I think it’s a potato?”

“Why did that sound like a question?”

Freya paused, then looked at the next dish.

It was a fish. The scales had not been removed, and its belly had not even been opened.

“You didn’t remove the scales or clean out the insides?”

Euphemia blinked.

“Wait, you’re supposed to do that?”

So she really had thrown the whole fish straight into the pan.

No wonder the two of them had put up such a fight.

Euphemia gave an embarrassed cough.

“Well, this was my first time cooking. I wanted to make something nice before you came back, but then…”

She quickly tried to salvage the situation.

“I mean, the food might not look great, but it could still taste good.”

As she spoke, Euphemia stabbed a piece of the alleged potato with her fork and put it into her mouth.

Freya immediately heard a crisp crunch.

A second later, Euphemia started gagging.

Freya looked helplessly at her.

“Did the potato just hit you back?”

Euphemia grabbed a napkin and spat the food out. She stuck out her pink tongue as if trying to air it out.

“I always thought cooking was easy. That’s it. Tomorrow, I’m buying a cookbook and learning properly. This will never happen again.”

Freya sighed and went into the kitchen.

The place looked like a battlefield, but Euphemia had bought plenty of ingredients, many of which had gone untouched.

Using what was left, Freya made three simple dishes.

Her cooking skills were nothing special. She was about as good as any average person.

Once the food was on the table, Euphemia eagerly took a bite. She chewed for a moment, then smacked her lips.

“It’s pretty average. Not nearly as good as restaurant food.”

Freya gave her an annoyed look.

“Obviously. If I could cook that well, I’d open a restaurant. If you don’t like it, you can go back to eating that potato that fights back.”

Euphemia laughed awkwardly.

“It’s fine. I’m not complaining. As long as it’s edible, I’m happy.”

“Once I’ve mastered cooking, I’ll make something delicious for you.”

After dinner and cleanup, Euphemia sat quietly in a chair and began reading a book on mysticism.

Freya sat on the edge of the bed, idly swinging her legs.

With nothing else to do, she eventually picked up the Earth Church’s doctrine.

It was every bit as boring as the English textbooks from her previous life.

Less than half an hour later, the sound of her slow, steady breathing filled the room.

Several hours passed before Freya felt someone gently nudging her awake.

She slowly opened her eyes.

“It’s already midnight,” Euphemia said. “If you’re going to sleep, at least sleep in the bed.”

Freya immediately became more alert.

“What about the warehouse? Did anyone suspicious show up?”

Euphemia shook her head.

“No. I kept an eye on it the whole time. The soldiers spent the entire night making potions.”

“The Rank Five General never appeared.”

During a previous simulation, Freya and Captain Nolan had spotted someone who appeared to be Obsidian’s mastermind at the abandoned warehouse on the night of July 21.

That meant the shipment had arrived on July 21.

Obsidian’s mastermind had probably inspected the warehouse personally because of the delivery.

The current date inside the simulation was the evening of July 22.

Now that the shipment had been unloaded and there was nothing else requiring his attention, the mastermind naturally had no reason to visit the warehouse every day.

Freya considered what this meant.

If she missed the night of July 21 in reality, she would lose the route where Nolan died and the Mobile Unit arrived.

But losing that route was hardly a problem.

She had never intended to clear the crisis that way in the first place.

When Freya remained silent, Euphemia assumed she was disappointed by their lack of progress.

“Patience is one of the most important qualities a detective can have,” Euphemia said. “Don’t rush. We have plenty of time.”

“Sooner or later, that man will slip up.”

“I know.” Freya nodded. “I’m not in a hurry. I was just thinking about something.”

“All right, then. It’s late, so get some rest. I’ll keep reading and watch the warehouse a little longer.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

Freya returned to her room and closed the door.

She took off every last piece of clothing that had been digging into her all day, then slipped beneath the covers. She wrapped her legs around part of the blanket and let out a soft, contented murmur before quickly falling asleep.

The next morning, Freya woke at exactly the usual time, guided by her internal clock.

She rubbed her eyes, sat up, and stretched. The blanket slid down her body, revealing a generous amount of bare skin.

She had to admit that she was beginning to understand the Earth Church believers.

The feeling of having nothing restricting her body really was comfortable.

Still, she obediently got dressed.

“I’ll treat it as something to enjoy while I’m sleeping. During the day, I’m still wearing clothes like a normal person.”

When Freya entered the living room, she found Euphemia sitting in the same spot as the previous night, still reading.

It almost looked as if she had never moved.

Morning sunlight streamed through the window and fell across Euphemia. With her peaceful, composed expression, she looked as beautiful as someone who had stepped out of a painting.

Freya paused.

“Don’t tell me you stayed up all night.”

“I didn’t. I just woke up early,” Euphemia replied. “Three hours of sleep is more than enough for me.”

“I might as well spend the remaining time reading. It’s also the fastest way for someone on the Scholar Path to grow stronger.”

Freya used the leftover ingredients from the previous day to make a simple breakfast.

After eating, she put on the Invisibility Cloak and prepared to leave.

She did not have a clear destination in mind. Still, doing anything was better than sitting around Euphemia’s apartment with nothing to do.

Freya spent the morning wandering through the city and keeping watch.

She hoped she might stumble across Obsidian’s mastermind.

Searching for a single person in an entire city was usually like looking for a needle in a haystack. However, Mind Sense allowed Freya to monitor several streets at once, so perhaps her chances were not quite as hopeless.

At noon, she went to the Earth Church to exchange information with Bishop Pantheon and see whether the church had made any progress.

She also helped herself to lunch while she was there.

In the afternoon, she returned to patrolling the city.

That evening, she went back to Euphemia’s rented apartment, chatted with the detective, sampled the dinner Euphemia had carefully prepared, then stripped off her clothes and enjoyed another comfortable night’s sleep.

Time flew by, and an entire week passed.

Freya, the Earth Church, and Euphemia’s warehouse surveillance all failed to produce any useful leads.

On the other hand, Freya encountered nearly twenty Demon Path practitioners during that week.

Some were actively committing crimes, while others were simply walking down the street and had done absolutely nothing.

Freya made no distinction between them.

Every last one was casually tied up with vines.

At least it took some pressure off Special Affairs.

As for how the Special Affairs officers reacted whenever they arrived to find yet another criminal wrapped up like a human houseplant, that was none of Freya’s concern.