I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood
Chapter 296: Principles of Hazard Management

It was for this very reason that, whenever an Anomaly popped up that Pandora might find particularly interesting, Poppy or Ophelia would habitually give her a heads-up—leaving her a window to decide.

If Pandora was simply too busy or the Anomaly didn’t pique her interest, then after a few days the mission would default to Poppy or Ophelia to handle. But generally speaking, a Level-2 Anomaly rarely required two people—let alone multiple Rank-3s—to take down together.

That scenario belonged to the higher-threat Level-3.

A Level-3 Anomaly signified an exceedingly dangerous entity. Not only was it beyond the auxiliary six-person squad’s ability to handle—a single Rank-3 might not be able to deal with it independently either, or would have to pay an exorbitant price.

At this stage, the cleanup squad had only just arrived in the Fragment World. Their foothold was unsteady, their strength not yet fully deployed. In these circumstances, Level-3 Anomalies were typically shelved temporarily, flagged as high-alert targets, to be dealt with once the squad’s forces were more established—or, if necessary, jointly handled by multiple Rank-3s.

This wasn’t a hard requirement handed down by the Academy. It was an unspoken principle that every cleanup squad operating long-term in Fragment Worlds quietly abided by: upon arrival, prioritize the weaker Anomalies. Only then move on to the stronger ones.

It seemed to be one of those hard-won rules born from blood and bitter lessons across countless extended missions.

As for why exactly… Pandora hadn’t pried into the details. But the logic behind it was clear enough: perhaps to avoid prematurely alerting a powerful Anomaly. Perhaps clearing the weaker ones first created a more stable environment for subsequent operations. Or perhaps… there were other, more complex considerations at play.

Thus, a Level-3 Anomaly wasn’t just a simple “archive” or a routine “mission.” It was more of a red flag. A potential threat requiring extreme caution.

For the mission link Poppy had sent over this time, after skimming the basic intel, Pandora indeed found herself deeply intrigued.

She quickly replied via the Palmfiend, indicating she’d accepted the task.

Poppy seemed a bit surprised by how fast she’d responded.

“Ah, so you’re actually around?”

“You’ve got free time today? That was fast.”

After a month of working together, Poppy no longer harbored her initial hostility toward Pandora. That earlier wariness had stemmed mainly from her naturally cautious, suspicious personality—and an instinctive vigilance toward Pandora’s sudden, unidentified appearance.

Now, with the misunderstandings largely cleared and a preliminary cooperative relationship established, Poppy had not only dropped the hostility—she’d also essentially confirmed: Pandora’s talent was indeed extraordinary, and her true combat strength was genuinely solid. She wasn’t one of those “hothouse geniuses” propped up by potions with an unstable foundation.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As such, Poppy now showed considerable respect and regard for both Pandora and Elsa. Pandora, naturally, reciprocated.

Not that she’d cared much about Poppy’s earlier hostility in the first place. Her own method of arrival had been rather abrupt, after all. Rank-3 power was bound to make anyone wary.

“Oh, by the way, what about that mission you tagged this morning?”

Poppy sent another line, referring to the other Level-2 Anomaly mission Pandora had flagged earlier in the day.

“With this new task, will you still have time for the morning one?”

“If you’re not planning to keep it, I’ll start prepping on my end. I’m already near that street anyway…”

Pandora smiled and quickly tapped out five words on the Palmfiend’s palm:

“Already handling it.”

Meaning: the mission she’d tagged in the morning was hers to deal with. No need for Poppy to step in.

Poppy replied with a curt “Fine” and went silent.

That was normal. As two of the three primary combatant Rank-3s, she was actually quite busy. They hadn’t come to this Fragment World for sightseeing. Every day, vast areas needed scouting. Potential Anomalies required evaluation. Confirmed ones had to be eliminated.

Out of their entire group, only Pandora seemed to maintain a relatively relaxed mindset. But in truth, when Pandora was busy, she could be even more extreme than the rest. Take this past month: during her cultivation experiments, that kind of continuous, sleepless focus, that refusal to rest, that obsessive attention to every single detail—it would have made Poppy’s heart skip a beat just watching.

It was a level of intensity that required superhuman constitution and staggering willpower just to sustain.

She stowed the Palmfiend away, watching it skitter back into the potion pouch. Then she stood, rolling her shoulders gently to work out the stiffness from sitting too long.

“Alright then. Time to handle a mission.”

She muttered it to herself, a hint of eager anticipation in her tone—the itch to stretch her limbs.

She turned, glancing down at Miss Anomaly, who had been waiting patiently at her side. A silent gesture: come along. The girl immediately perked up, latching tightly onto her hand.

Pandora pushed open the lab door. The hallway was dim in the late-afternoon light, but her steps carried a certain lightness.

Since she had nothing else to do, she might as well limber up. And see for herself just how “interesting” this Anomaly really was…

………………

I am a first-year student at Ashford Heights Modern High School.

The school recently got a batch of exchange students. They say they come from somewhere really far away. Where exactly, I’m not too sure. My geography isn’t great—I can never remember the place names and maps in the textbooks. None of my friends can really explain where those exchange students are from either. Truth is, hardly anyone’s actually seen them in class or at any activities.

We all figure they’re rich kids. Probably just using the “exchange study” label as an excuse to travel and see the world. I think that guess makes a lot of sense. After all, even though our school’s called an elite high school, the truly loaded students are a minority. People like that are probably from a different world than us.

……

The final bell rang, and the classroom erupted into noise.

A classmate I barely know—he’s on the sports team—leaned in close while packing his bag and lowered his voice:

“Hey, wanna hit the old campus tonight? I hear it’s been… pretty thrilling over there lately.”

His eyes glinted with excitement.

The old campus has always had that “ghost-eats-man” urban legend. Supposedly, if you go there at midnight, you can hear the sound of bones being chewed. If you’re unlucky, you get dragged off and vanish forever.