Chapter 108

At that moment, Dorothy’s hair stood on end, as if struck by lightning, her mind going utterly blank.

Although she had mentally prepared herself for hearing some earth-shattering secret, thanks to the senior’s earlier warning, she never imagined the secret could be this shocking.

Fuck, Senior Dana, you’re seriously insane—I came to you just to ask about the Three Kings, and you straight-up bring me face-to-face with the future Fourth King? Is this even real?

Dorothy instinctively wondered if Senior Fan Ni was joking, but she immediately crushed that thought—no one would dare joke about something like this.

This is a magic world, a world where fate truly exists; if someone joked about this, they’d probably choke on a sip of water and die right then and there.

Besides...

Dorothy glanced at the chaotic, swirling spectacle behind the black-haired, long-straight beauty senior.

Although the underground space where Senior Fan Ni had sealed herself was indeed vast, it was still utterly incapable of housing these monsters—even the smallest of them were as massive as mountains, let alone the larger ones, like that red celestial body with a single open eye. Come on, that thing was literally a living planet.

How could such a tiny basement possibly contain these monsters, yet they undeniably existed here? The sheer chaos stemmed solely from the terrifying magical power swirling around Senior Fan Ni at this moment.

It was a power so immense that merely by flowing and manifesting its own nature, it could create worlds and evolve all things.

Even if witches’ magic is omnipotent, achieving such godlike authority through pure magical force alone would require an unimaginably colossal amount of mana.

Dorothy’s theoretical knowledge of magic told her that to reach this level without spells, relying purely on the essence of magic, the minimum required mana would be...

900,000 mana at the very least...

300,000 mana was the threshold for a Grand Witch, 600,000 for a Peak Witch, and 900,000? That was the standard of a Sage.

In other words, if Senior Dana wasn’t lying, this senior—no older than twenty-five—already possessed magical power on par with a Sage.

Holy shit, is this the strength of a Chosen One? Are you fucking kidding me? How are ordinary players supposed to compete with this kind of game balance?

At that moment, Dorothy really wanted to protest—but then she remembered that the Demon Lord himself had become a Sage at thirty. So, never mind.

Given the current trend in the witch world—where each generation’s talent surpasses the last—it wasn’t exactly surprising that Senior Fan Ni , the Fourth King, had grown faster than the Demon Lord, the Third King...

Fuck, no, that’s still unacceptable.

At that moment, Dorothy finally understood how the previous transmigrants—those who also possessed the “Otherworld Soul (SSR)” talent—must have felt.

I thought as a transmigrant with a cheat system, I’d rise to the top, but damn it, even cheats follow logic—yet the Chosen Ones in this world don’t even pretend to! What’s the point of playing?

Recalling how she’d spent years burning the midnight oil, grinding relentlessly, barely achieving anything, dominating her peers, earning countless praises—only to be crushed by this game’s actual daughter after just one day.

The feeling of never being able to catch up to someone’s fate was utterly demoralizing, leaving her cold and trembling even in sweltering heat, wondering what the hell was wrong with this world...

Except...

Oh, right—I never actually wanted to be the protagonist, never dreamed of ruling or conquering. I just wanted to earn some money, build a cozy little home, and live a quiet, ordinary life.

Ah, sorry—I accidentally got too into the role. Never mind then.

Dorothy, who had nearly assumed a martial stance, scratched her head, remembered her real estate ambitions, and instantly calmed down.

Fine, you be Witch Queen, I’ll be Real Estate Tycoon—we’re not even on the same track. No overlap, no conflict. Both of us have bright, beautiful futures.

Hah, as long as I stay lazy and zen, despair can’t even catch up to me.

So...

“Hmm, I understand. Senior, please continue.”

She calmly picked up a slice of cake from the tea table, took a bite, sipped her black tea, and blinked her peach-shaped eyes behind her glasses at the regal, kingly senior across from her.

Senior Fan Ni : “........”

Wait, isn’t this script wrong? Little sister, you’re making me so awkward.

The black-haired, long-straight senior was thrown off by her little sister’s bizarre calmness—even the drumming and flute music behind her had stopped, leaving only the sound of a small witch chewing cake.

After a long silence, Senior Fan Ni suddenly burst into laughter.

“Interesting, Dorothy—you truly live up to my expectations. You’re fascinating.”

As if recalling something delightful, she laughed heartily, doubled over with mirth, tears streaming down her face, while the bizarre world behind her trembled with the creator’s joy.

“You’re the first person since I learned my identity who could remain so calm. I’m starting to like you.”

Her laughter was genuine—having been raised since birth as the future monarch, Fan Ni had always been profoundly lonely.

Before she came into her own, every detail about her was the witch world’s greatest secret, strictly forbidden to be revealed—even after she pretended to be ordinary and enrolled in the Witch Academy, making some friends, she could never confide in anyone. She had no true confidant.

After she contracted the Curse of Knowledge, she sometimes wondered if her madness stemmed from the curse itself—or simply from the crushing weight of her identity and the world’s expectations.

She never expected that when she was healthy, she made no friends—but now, in this half-dead, self-sealed state, she’d met such an interesting little sister.

Originally, she’d merely appreciated the little sister—viewing her from a monarch’s perspective as a promising talent, planning to recruit her as a close aide once she recovered and ascended. But now...

Hmm, this interesting little sister had successfully captured her interest.

“Senior, have you laughed enough? I think your time is running out—let’s get to the point.”

Seeing the truly deranged black-haired senior still laughing uncontrollably, Dorothy finished her last bite of cake and sighed, urging impatiently.

“Besides, since you’re treating me like family, I’ll lay it all out too—I’m the Second-Generation Demon Lord. Who doesn’t have royal potential these days?”

Dorothy flicked her bangs haughtily and pulled out her identity card, revealing the title granted by the Demon Lord himself.

“I’m not pretending anymore. I came to you to ask how to actually turn this promising royal potential into reality.”

Hmph, you’re the world’s chosen one; I’m the Witch Queen’s specially approved one. We’re both veteran future warriors—until the future becomes real, neither of us is nobler than the other.

........Old Future-Potential Little Witch laying it all out........