The carriage stank of trouble, like fresh paint laid over rot.

Ten minutes past the town, the men on both benches watched Nana Toki like wolves nosing a lamb.

She leaned out, and the road angled away from the Marl Kingdom like a river refusing the sea.

These men and that Fat Jin were one pack, hungry to kill and strip like vultures over carrion.

“Tsk, why the long face?” The voice buzzed like flies around meat.

Impatient, the ones closest stood with lazy grins, circling her like hyenas under a red sunset.

“Smile more, will you? Fat Jin didn’t even give the girl a clean carriage.” His tongue flicked like a knife.

“Look at that tender skin—if she gets scuffed, who takes the blame?” Laughter smeared like oil on fire.

As the leader’s words plopped like stones in a muddy pond, lewd chuckles rippled through the carriage like hot grease.

Sleazy eyes crawled over Nana Toki’s form beneath the rough hemp like ants swarming sugar.

“I say Fat Jin’s garbage—he’ll do anything for coin.” The words clinked like cheap metal.

“Right, used to bait men, now women too; Fat Jin knows our taste, ha!” Their mirth snapped like brittle twigs.

The carriage swayed like a drunk boat, and men marked by Demon Hand crept forward like shadows with claws.

“Today’s luck shines, a clean woman like fresh snow.” Greed glinted like fox eyes.

“Looks like a hidden rich miss, silk under straw.” Their smiles spread like stains.

“Aji, steer into the deep woods. We finish, then toss her like a broken jar.”

A tall, thin man cracked the order like a whip, eyes glued to Nana like tar.

“Her money’s already squeezed by Fat Jin; we’ll ask him for more, like sharks scenting blood.”

“This… Brother Wei, isn’t that bad? We said rob, not kill.” A weak boy’s voice fluttered like a moth behind the front curtain.

“That’s why you’re just a driver. You pull reins like a mule.” His scorn fell like cold ash.

“Chance to touch a woman doesn’t come often. You’ll get a turn, like dipping a cup in a muddy stream.”

“You’re a virgin, right? Keep the horses going; now you’re in it, your shadow tied to ours.”

Aji got scolded back like a dog kicked from the hearth.

“Come, let me inspect the goods first,” the rough man said, reaching like a butcher for meat.

In the next breath, the horse outside let out a piercing neigh, and the carriage bucked like a storm-tossed cart.

“S-sorry… I can’t do this… it’s beyond me,” Aji gasped, ice running like a thin river through his veins.

Feeling the rear shake like thunder, Aji stopped by the roadside, clutching the reins like a drowning man.

“But—”

“Drive.” The voice cut through like a cold knife.

Aji jerked his head up like a startled sparrow.

“Uh… you…” His tongue fluttered like a torn flag.

“Keep driving.” The words slid like winter wind.

Nana Toki lifted the front curtain, her face a cold moon; her voice bit like frost.

“If you don’t want to die, drive toward the Marl Kingdom like a river flowing home.”

The rear went silent like a snuffed candle, and Aji felt a chill spread like fog over water.

An omen hung over his head like a black cloud.

“Answer?” Her demand thumped like a drumbeat.

“Y-yes… yes…” Her gaze prickled like needles, and his scalp crawled like ants.

“Hyah… hyah!” The whip cracked like a dry branch, and the carriage moved again.

Aji stared ahead like a nailed scarecrow, panic buzzing like hornets in a jar.

In that heartbeat, what happened? The question swung like a noose in his mind.

Two days and two nights, the carriage ran like a moonless river.

Only when Nana Toki saw the Marl Kingdom’s capital rise like stone waves did she tell the driver to halt.

Still a stretch to go, she chose to walk, her shadow slipping into grass like a fox.

“Thanks for the haul. Here’s your fare.” Coins chimed like cold rain.

Half her body slid out from the curtain like a blade, and she tossed Aji a few silver coins like small stars.

She jumped from the rear, lungs dragging clean air like a freed diver.

The blood-stench back there gnawed at her like iron rain; it made her grimace.

Next time, better to cripple early, like snapping a wing before it beats.

“Th-that…” Aji held the silver like hot coals, climbing down with her, eyes on the woman cloaked in a foul, corpse-rot reek like a swamp.

“F-fare’s too much.” His voice trembled like a reed in wind.

“Then treat it as hush money.” Her hand flicked like a lazy fan.

“Don’t peek at the rear. Go home. Tell that dead-fat man I’ll come settle accounts.” Her words rolled like thunder over a low roof.

Aji’s breath stalled; silence spread like cracked mud.

Her eyes met his, and goosebumps rose like millet; he nodded like a chick pecking grain.

Only when her figure thinned to smoke did his legs lose strength like wet rope.

He dropped with a thud like a sack, sucking air in rough gulps like a bellows.

From the rear, through the curtain, the smell of blood seeped like a red tide.

…

She jogged to the capital walls like a swift deer and flowed with the crowd into the Marl Kingdom’s heart.

Compared to her memory of the Hedon Kingdom, full of ordinary faces, Marl’s streets were a forest of Demon Hands.

In that tide of people, it was hard to spot one unmarked person, like seeking a white pebble in coal.

She found an inn, rubbed off travel grit like sand, then sat with the System to hash out a night plan.

Kidnap the grand princess Ling’er Long.

In the original plot, war drums between Hedon and Marl beat louder, like thunderheads piling.

The Marl king, worried his daughter would stand at the first battle line like a lone banner, ordered a guard selection.

A contest to choose Ling’er Long’s personal guard, with heavy prize money dangling like ripe fruit.

Nana Toki saw a window, a gate swung open like wind on hinges.

First, if she became Ling’er Long’s guard, the kidnapping would fall into place like rain into a lake.

Second, with Ling’er Long stolen, Marl would tilt into chaos like birds scattering, and the war could stall.

Plus, snatching a princess under the king’s nose sounded fun, like painting a mustache on a statue.

The plan looked flawless, smooth as silk without a snag.

System: “……”

The System sighed like wind in wires; honestly, the host just wanted thrills, like chasing fireflies.

The planning took under three minutes, quick as instant heat.

Nana pitched the plan; the System barely spoke before she slammed the table like a gavel.

The System’s support experience was terrible, like riding a cart over stones.

Only one snag nagged at Nana like a thorn under cloth.

In the original, Ling’er Long held the contest but chose no personal guard, the reason veiled like fog.

That variable pricked at her, faint and sharp like a fishbone.

Whatever; if it fails, she’ll snatch her by force, like a hawk stooping on a rabbit.

Nana was easygoing, water finding a channel.

So, on the day of the selection, she signed up without hesitation, slipping in as a contestant like a shadow.

The venue looked like an ancient coliseum, round as a full moon, packed with roaring waves of crowd.

By the time she stepped in, the matches were near their end, like embers glowing low.

Standing at a corner, she swept the arena like wind, then spotted Ling’er Long in a bright seat.

The woman was indeed a firstborn of a kingdom, jade on a throne like cool dawn.

Even lounging on a couch, she radiated a high aura, distant as mountain snow.

“General Long, what do you think of them?” The strategist’s smile curled like a fox’s tail.

Ling’er Long watched the dull fights with a yawn, smoke drifting like lazy clouds.

“Just boring people throwing boring punches; true Demon Hand talents don’t show easily, like tigers hiding in bamboo.”

At that moment, the match below ended like a drum cut, and sound rolled through the arena like thunder.

“Winner—Bluz from Xingge Village on the Marl border!” The shout cracked like lightning.

“Hmm, that leaves the final match, like the last leaf clinging.”

While the crowd roared for the last pair like surf, the strategist studied his roster, a curious smile curling like a cat’s.

“This lineup even has a rare female contestant, like a crane among crows.”

The topic still didn’t hook Ling’er Long; she lifted her eyes, glanced once, then let her mind drift like a kite.

“Final group! Miss Bingtang, a Demon Hand bearer from some unknown border village, versus Yu Ang, top disciple of the Marl Kingdom’s foremost martial sect!”

The announcer’s words fell like sparks, and the stands exploded in chants like wildfire.

“Yu Ang! Yu Ang! Yu Ang!” The name beat like drums.

The fervor surged one-sided, a river breaking its bank.

Center stage, bathing in the hot gaze like summer sun, Yu Ang looked down at Nana Toki with proud chill.

“A woman entering a contest like this? A toad eyeing a swan—ridiculous.”

“Try weighing yourself first, like testing a blade on straw.”

Nana Toki blinked, a small question mark hanging like a lantern.