Chapter 84

Dorothy silently waited on the arena floor for her next opponent.

Technically, her evaluation could have ended now—she could have simply walked away—but she had placed all her dark web bets, and backing out was impossible.

Over these past days, she had nearly been bankrupted by the two little ones at home, and she had been searching desperately for some way to make easy money in this witch academy—preferably a way to become rich overnight.

After scouting around, she actually found one: take on missions and bounties posted on the academy’s forum.

Not every little witch student was like her, with a little knowledge of everything and no need to ask anyone for help.

Most normal little witches were only skilled in their major subjects—Potion students could only brew, Alchemy students were great at forging, and they were still too young to be well-rounded.

So when Potion students needed a new cauldron, or Alchemy students needed potions to restore stamina and magic, it became awkward.

Normally, adult witches would head straight to the market to buy, but here in the witch academy, students first thought of pulling out their spellbooks, logging onto the forum, and posting a bounty to see if a senior or junior from the relevant discipline would lend a hand.

After all, shopping at a store meant paying middlemen’s markup—how could that compare to direct-from-the-producer value? Everyone was still a student, with limited financial independence, so every coin saved counted.

And this was the Witch Academy—where foundational training for every industry in the witch world was available. If you wanted something, or needed something custom-made, no matter how obscure, just call out on the campus forum, and someone from the right discipline would show up soon enough.

After all, which Alchemy student didn’t have a few practice pieces stashed away? Which Potion student didn’t have their bag stuffed with potions?

These items were often more than they needed, so exchanging them was ideal—and it also expanded their social circles, helping them meet more classmates.

School wasn’t just about learning knowledge; building friendships and accumulating connections was an essential part of student life.

If she could meet a few compatible, capable classmates through this mutual aid system, it would be a massive win.

After all, the pure classmate bonds formed when everyone was still beginners were precious—after graduation, finding such sincerity again would be extremely difficult.

Of course, these bounties carried risks; student-made items were never as reliable as market-tested, quality-checked goods, so personal judgment was required.

Bad luck could mean getting scammed, but good luck might land you a future master’s practice piece.

Still, overall, the academy forum remained lively, and the administration encouraged this student mutual aid system.

But Dorothy had no intention of taking on ordinary mutual aid tasks—those small jobs, even if she burned out, wouldn’t earn her much.

What she wanted was the legendary, long-standing, top-ranked bounty that had gone unclaimed for years—the Hell Difficulty task: storm the Armed Society.

That group of battle-obsessed students had once posted a bold challenge on the forum: anyone who could successfully storm their base would receive a massive payout—but failure meant paying a penalty to refill the prize pool.

To this day, no one had completed it, and the original generous reward had grown even larger due to continuous penalty payments.

Moreover, it wasn’t just the bounty—those who had failed to storm the Armed Society grew angrier with time, so they’d separately posted another bounty, offering a huge reward to anyone who succeeded, with the entire prize going to the victor.

Even the dark web operators in the academy couldn’t sit still anymore; someone had publicly opened a betting pool, wagering on whether the Armed Society would ever be stormed successfully.

Hmm, do one job, earn three payouts—this deal was too good. If she pulled it off, overnight riches wouldn’t be a dream.

Ever since she saw this, Dorothy couldn’t look away—she thought she might give it a try. If this one job succeeded, her whole family’s future…

Hmm, well, the total prize money from all three rewards was just over five million Witch Gold—yes, it looked like a fortune, enough for Dorothy to fulfill her old dream: buying a small sky island.

But then she thought about what her family was eating now—if every meal were prepared to the highest standard, this sum would barely cover a year’s worth of food.

That was only at current consumption levels. If they grew even slightly stronger, their appetites would rise, their dietary needs would escalate, and this money might not even last a year.

Ugh, spending a house’s worth on food in a year—truly three gold-devouring beasts.

Of course, with her tiny frame, conventional methods of storming the Armed Society would mean any senior member could crush her effortlessly with superior magic. But wasn’t she about to undergo a combat evaluation?

Hehehe—if she acted arrogant enough during the evaluation, she’d ignite the fury of those battle-hungry Armed Society witches. And those fierce, yet oddly honorable types wouldn’t lower their dignity by changing the rules—they’d fight her under the evaluation standards.

Dorothy knew that, at equal magic levels, she wasn’t invincible—but few could match her. So perhaps, just perhaps, she had a chance.

Sure, this felt like taking advantage of those honest, battle-obsessed fools—but sorry, for the sake of my two starving children, Dorothy won’t be gentle today.

The plan sounded perfect, but whether it would succeed? She wasn’t sure. After all, bullying the honest only works if they’re truly honest—and not just pretending.

And now, just as she was about to storm the base, her first opponent turned out to be her own sister—definitely not a good omen.

“Sorry, Alice, I went a bit too hard just now—but once I pull this off, we’ll have money. I’ll treat you to something delicious.”

Dorothy silently apologized to her sister, whom she had just instantly defeated.

Come to think of it, she’d promised to make grilled sub-dragon wings for her a few days ago during shopping—but Mother interrupted, and she still hasn’t made them…

Hmm, next time, I’ll make them all together.

Anyway, she’d just punched her own sister—her half-sister—straight in the head. She couldn’t let that sacrifice be in vain. She had to earn this money today.

To be fair, Alice’s strength had improved a lot over the years—she was no longer the little beginner Dorothy used to tease. When Alice charged in just now, the sheer force had startled Dorothy.

That’s why, caught off guard, she instinctively unleashed her full power—and crushed the little witch’s head as usual.

She’d really meant to be gentler with her sister, to avoid such brutality.

But this little brat, despite her improved power, still had this brain…

You used every single tactic I designed for you—and now you’re using them against me? What the hell is even in your head?

Didn’t you ever think that when I designed your tactics, I also studied how to counter them?

Yes, yes, your primal instincts are impressive—but Alice, killing intent can be faked. I can fake a killing intent to lure you into dodging exactly where I want.

Then I swing a punch at empty air—no killing intent at all.

Your regeneration is annoying, but I know you too well. Until you fully inherit Mother’s “River of Last Words,” your so-called immortal body is a lie—with a fatal flaw.

Your regeneration depends entirely on your blood core being intact. For vampires, the blood core’s location is a secret—but I know you too well. I know your blood core isn’t in your heart—it’s hidden in your lower abdomen.

Ah, who am I to expose my beloved sister’s weakness?

Fortunately, I’ve finally mastered the hidden force technique from my past-life novel—this punch looks like a headshot, but the magic-simulated hidden force inside will shatter your blood core.

Alice, my foolish sister, everything about you is as transparent as naked skin to me—but how much do you really know about me?

Didn’t I teach you to be cautious with strangers? To probe first, then strike?

Dorothy shook her head—and suddenly felt her punch had been justified.

After all, her sister’s brain had long since hardened into reckless muscle, forgetting how to think. Maybe this punch would jolt her mushy brain back to life, make her smarter.

But she had no time to dwell on it—her next opponent had arrived.

When the opponent didn’t use the preparation room but instead leapt directly from the VIP seats onto the arena in a classic superhero landing, kicking up a cloud of desert dust, Dorothy’s gaze sharpened.

At first, she was pleased—the Armed Society had followed her plan exactly, sending down another fighter without changing the rules. Her chances of earning today had just skyrocketed.

But when she saw the newcomer’s face, she sucked in a sharp breath.

“Ssshh, you guys aren’t playing by the rules—just fought the 13th seat, so logically the next should be the 12th. Why’d you skip straight to the 10th?”

Dorothy mentally grumbled.

Because Alice often came crying to her after getting beaten at school, asking for tactical help, Dorothy—even though this was her first time at the Armed Society—knew more about its top fighters than most members did.

Hmm, dark skin (sun-tanned bronze), cat ears, tiger stripes, long tail—clearly modeled after a Tigerkin.

Yay, another big cat girl—I want to pet her tail, scratch her ears.

Cough.

Since she descended from the 2nd seat, she must be stronger than Alice—probably beat her often. So, cross-reference past complaints Alice had made about big cat girls.

Ah, got it—this must be the “Rena” sister Alice always mentioned.

After a quick glance, Dorothy confirmed the woman’s identity.

Once recognized, the intelligence Alice had provided naturally surfaced in her mind.

....Little Witch retrieving data...