She drank it.

Delicious, whispered a voice in her head. The juicer's spirit. Now find me riper fruit.

"So," she said, cracking her knuckles. "What's on the menu?"

Her soul was peeled, segmented, and extracted in three seconds flat.

I've set the tone as darkly comedic, slightly grotesque, and fast-paced — think Kill la Kill meets a health food commercial. Xia Qingzi used to be a normal second-year student at Midnight Academy , a school for young exorcists. Her grades were average, her social life was zero, and her biggest worry was the pop quiz on Van Helsing's footnotes.

Kenji collapsed, now a perfectly harmless, apologetic boy who offered her his lunch money and a handwritten apology.

The moment Qingzi plugged it in, the machine whirred to life with a sound like a dying choir. A pomegranate rolled off the counter by itself. It wasn't red. It was black, veined with pulsing orange light. Before she could scream, the juicer's arm grabbed her wrist.

A shockwave of power surged through her veins. Her demon mark—a small, black pomegranate seed on her tongue—glowed.

Her right hand morphed into a gleaming, metallic citrus press. Her eyes turned gold.

Qingzi felt a strange hunger. Not for food. For extraction .