Ben10: A Romantic Adventure with a Gender-Swapped Class

"Resurrect the person you wish to resurrect"

These words were like a stone thrown into a deep pool, stirring up a thousand waves in Mo Bai's heart.

A strong question instantly seized him—how did she know? He buried this secret desire deep in his heart, never revealing it to anyone.

Almost the instant the thought flashed through his mind, reason, like a cold chain, abruptly restrained the question that was about to slip out of his mouth.

What's the point? What can you possibly gain from questioning the source of information about a cursed witch, other than creating more trouble?

He swallowed back the words that were about to come out of his mouth, feeling as if a piece of red-hot iron was stuck in his throat.

The only sounds in the room were the occasional gust of wind passing by the window and the heavy, almost palpable silence between the two of them.

They stood facing each other silently, their gazes clashing in the dim light.

Mo Bai's brows were tightly furrowed, his jawline was taut like a hard rock, and deep in his eyes were turbulent waves and difficult weighing of options, as if he were standing at the crossroads of fate, conducting a trial unknown to anyone.

The witch on the windowsill, however, always wore a faint, knowing smile.

The smile was as faint as frost under the moonlight, carrying an almost cruel patience, as if it had already anticipated his struggle and was waiting with great interest for the final answer to be revealed.

Time flows by in a silent tug-of-war, each second feeling as long as a year.

Finally, Mo Bai took a deep breath, the air she inhaled seemed to be icy cold.

He raised his head, his gaze piercing through the dimness, looking directly into those mysterious purple eyes. His voice was deep and clear, each word like tempered steel, carrying an undeniable weight.

"I reject"

These three words were like three heavy hammer blows, striking the heart of the evil witch.

The composure on her face shattered instantly.

The faint smile froze at the corner of his mouth, then vanished without a trace.

Her pupils suddenly contracted, and her mouth opened slightly, forming a silent look of astonishment.

Those eyes, which always held a calculating and alluring quality, now clearly reflected an unbelievable shock.

Clearly, this answer was completely beyond her script—trading tens of thousands of souls for the resurrection of one person, could anyone in this world really resist such a temptation?

Mo Bai didn't give her time to catch her breath or process the shock.

He took half a step forward, his figure appearing exceptionally upright in the moonlight, his voice carrying an undeniable firmness, and... a hint of barely perceptible softness.

"If it takes the souls of tens of thousands of people to resurrect one person," his gaze seemed to pierce through the wall and land on the familiar house next door, "Xiao Ban will definitely be at odds with me for the rest of her life." His concern for the girl's feelings was as clear as a rock.

“Furthermore,” he paused slightly, his gaze sharpening again, like a drawn blade, locking onto the cursed witch once more, “if you came here to tell me this, then I’m sorry, I cannot accept it.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his right hand without hesitation and made a crisp "please" gesture towards the open window.

The sense of expulsion was cold and resolute.

The shock in the witch's eyes receded like a tide, replaced by a deep, unfathomable complexity.

She did not try to persuade him further, nor did she ask for the reason.

She simply stepped back gently and gracefully sat back on the cold windowsill, the moonlight outlining her slightly thin silhouette.

“Okay,” her voice returned to its previous calm, even with a strange certainty, “I believe you’ll think about it sooner or later.” Then, her lips moved slightly, uttering two syllables that were almost crushed by the night wind: “Soon.” As soft as a whisper, so subtle that even the nearby foam couldn’t catch it.

She made a move to turn and leave.

"Wait!"

Mo Bai's voice rang out again, carrying an undeniable questioning tone.

The witch's movements stopped.

"What did you do to my mother?" Mo Bai stared intently at her, his eyes sharp as an eagle's.

The witch slowly turned her face to the side, the moonlight illuminating only half of her delicate jawline.

A truly captivating smile bloomed on her lips, tinged with languor and mockery: "Nothing," her voice was like threads wrapped in honey, "just a little 'magic trick'."

As soon as she finished speaking, she turned her head completely, and in the dim light, her purple eyes seemed to flash with stardust.

She continued, her tone tinged with a casual boastfulness: "For example, I've improved my personal charm or something..."

As she spoke, an indescribable, extremely delicate yet mysteriously alluring fragrance, like an invisible veil, quietly spread and lingered around Mo Bai's nose.

The aroma seems to tug at your heartstrings, making you want to explore its source.

Coupled with her waist-length hair flowing with silver light under the moonlight, and her languid yet fatally attractive posture, she was indeed incredibly charming.

Mo Bai clenched her teeth, resisting the assault of the strange fragrance, and asked sharply, "What is the point of doing this?"

The witch did not answer immediately.

She turned her gaze back to the deep night sky outside the window, her profile appearing somewhat forlorn. Her voice was low, like a whisper, carried away by the wind: "I just wanted to show off a little, all this paranoia..."

"Huh?" Mo Bai didn't hear clearly and frowned.

The witch seemed unconcerned whether he heard her or not.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze fixed on the solitary full moon hanging in the night sky.

With no stars around, it hung coldly in the inky sky, radiating a lonely glow.

She gazed at it quietly, as if her soul had been captured by the lonely moon.

The sudden silence and stare filled Mo Bai with doubt.

This witch's actions are always so unpredictable and elusive.

Just as Mo Bai was about to speak again, the voice of the evil witch rang out, carrying an unprecedented, almost confessional, low tone.

"Do you know...?"

"I grew up with Uncle Horrible Corpse since I was a child..."

“Nobody taught me what’s right and what’s wrong…” Her words abruptly stopped here.

The figure on the windowsill seemed to curl up slightly, as if it had touched something cold in its memories.

With her back to him, Mo Bai couldn't see her expression, but he could sense that the lingering fragrance seemed to carry a hint of bitterness.

After a brief silence, her voice resumed, even more ethereal than before.

"Uncle Horrible Corpse always says..."

"If you believe it's right, then it's right..."

“But today I discovered,” a hint of confusion crept into her voice, “that not everything is right…”

"Most importantly, what I've been searching for... turns out to be wrong..."

Her voice suddenly trembled with suppressed emotion: "I spent so much time... trying to resurrect my father... but he said I was wrong..."

"I don't know... I don't understand... and no one has ever taught me..."

This sudden confession, like a rusty key, unexpectedly unlocked a corner of Mo Bai's heart.

A complex mix of emotions welled up—pity? Sigh? The once invincible witch before him now resembled a child utterly lost in a vast labyrinth. The obsession she had pursued throughout her life had crumbled, and even her last support had been rejected by her closest relatives. The desolate bewilderment she exuded was truly moving.

“But at least…” The witch’s voice suddenly rose a little, carrying an almost resolute self-affirmation, “I know what’s right!”

Mo Bai looked at her with a puzzled expression.

As soon as the evil witch finished speaking, she lightly jumped down from the windowsill and silently stepped onto the cold floor.

She walked slowly towards Mo Bai, her silver hair swaying slightly with each step.

Her gaze was fixed on him, with an unusual focus.

"At least my father left behind one sentence..."

She stopped in front of Mo Bai, so close that they could feel each other's breath.

Then, she slowly extended her fair and slender hand toward Mo Bai's right hand, which was hanging by her side, with her fingertips slightly reaching forward.

"...You will teach me what is right."

Just as the cool fingertips were about to touch the back of her hand, Mo Bai took a big step back as if she had been branded with a hot iron.

He distanced himself, his gaze unwavering, his expression as serious as a frozen lake, and he responded decisively.

“If I were to teach you, I can say with absolute certainty that doing this is definitely wrong!” He was referring not only to her current attempt to get closer, but also to the logic behind all her actions driven by evil intentions.

The witch's outstretched hand hovered in mid-air, her fingertips twitching almost imperceptibly.

She showed no embarrassment or anger at being rejected; instead, as if she had expected it, she calmly withdrew her hand.

She turned around and walked back to the windowsill, her voice devoid of much emotion.

"Fine, since you're right," she said with an almost obedient resignation.

She sat back on the windowsill, her legs dangling in the air, swaying slightly.

Moonlight bathed her silver hair and shoulders. She turned her head to look at the endless night outside the window, her voice not loud, but with a stubbornness as firm as a rock.

"But I believe that evil can be corrected, and mistakes can be rectified..."

"I will not give up."

As soon as she finished speaking, she lightly leaped out of the window.

Purple, translucent energy instantly condensed beneath her feet like flowing crystal steps.

She stood steadily on it, suspended in the night sky outside the window, like a fairy under the moon.

She turned around and faced Mo Bai, who was still on guard inside the room, and a smile that was completely different from before, with a hint of playfulness and relief.

“Oh, right,” she tilted her head, her silver hair falling over her shoulder, “my name is Hope.”

"Remember this—" As she finished speaking, she winked playfully and forcefully at Mo Bai.

The wink came out of nowhere, carrying a girlish cunning and an indescribable frankness. It instantly made Mo Bai's scalp tingle, and a strong current, similar to embarrassment mixed with awkwardness, surged through his body, almost giving him goosebumps.

He almost subconsciously blurted out the complaint.

"Why bother remembering it? It's not like it's my real name anyway." He waved his hand, as if trying to dispel some discomfort. "It's not as easy to say as 'Evil Curse Witch'."

Hearing this disdainful remark, the witch suspended in mid-air smiled again, her smile now carrying a hint of genuine warmth.

She didn't refute, but gave Mo Bai one last deep look before turning around and turning her back to him, her voice coming through clearly.

This time it's for real.

The moment she finished speaking, a dazzling purple light appeared out of nowhere, like a gentle cocoon of light, instantly enveloping her from head to toe.

A flash of light appeared, and then, along with the figure within, it vanished completely into the cold moonlight, as if it had never existed.

Only Mo Bai remained in the room, along with the cool evening breeze blowing in from the window.

He stood there, his brow still furrowed, silently murmuring the name.

“Hope…” His voice was filled with doubt and uncertainty. “It doesn’t feel like it at all. Could this be his real name?” He shook his head. “You’re not kidding me, are you?”

He shook his head violently, as if trying to shake off all the chaotic thoughts brought about by this witch.

"Forget it, I don't care anymore!" He muttered almost in despair. "Even if she's called Thanos, it's none of my business!" After complaining, as if he had exhausted his last bit of strength, he fell heavily backward and sank into the soft bed, not wanting to move a finger anymore.

His body was so exhausted it felt like it was falling apart, but a strong sense of foreboding gripped his heart like a cold, iron claw.

Each beat was accompanied by a heavy unease, as if something was lurking in the depths of darkness, about to tear apart the peaceful night.

But in the shadows further away, beyond Mo Bai's sight, the silver-white figure had not truly gone far.

The cursed witch hovered silently high in the sky, the night wind blowing through her long hair. Her deep purple eyes pierced through the distance, gazing silently at the window from which the light shone.

That gaze was complex and unfathomable; rather than the obsessive entanglement of unrequited love, it was more like a near-obsessive yearning—Mo Bai, this boy, seemed to be the only remaining, warm thought between her and that denied past.

After an unknown amount of time, extreme exhaustion finally overwhelmed her turbulent emotions, and Mo Bai slept into a deep sleep.

But this night's dreams were no longer peaceful.

He saw a huge, flowing, cold, silvery-white longsword, its blade covered with ancient and intricate patterns.

It wasn't held in anyone's hands, but... it pierced straight through a huge, still slowly beating, dark red heart!

Each weak, painful contraction caused the sharp blade to tremble within the flesh, emitting a silent lament...

[By the way, the Cursed Witch's name really is that; I'm totally baffled.]

The official portrayal of the Cursed Witch is quite confusing; she's always on the verge of being redeemed, but never actually is.

[After a complete evolution, it seems like I'm starting to have some mental issues.]

Putting everything else aside, I really love the Cursed Witch.