After my wife left, I hid myself inside the shell of an ordinary programmer: getting up early to cook, writing code, fixing bugs, day after day.
My daughter, Sun Xiaoxiao, shut me out of her world with a single door, cold and distant like any teenager. I thought this was how the rest of my life would go, until the day I saw her flying above the city, wearing that damn magical-girl uniform, its golden light rippling, as she charged alone at the Blightbeasts. In that moment, I understood.
The retired magical girl and senior inspector, Dream Butterfly, had to wake up.
