Witt stared blankly at the girl’s blushing face, unaware that Kaelxi—whom he’d just playfully punched in the stomach—was plotting revenge in her heart.

A vicious scheme suddenly popped into her mind.

After picturing the handsome boy laboring in the mines, Kaelxi nearly burst out laughing but held it back.

She lifted her head abruptly, stars sparkling in her eyes, putting on a fragile act. She gazed at Witt with hopeful expectation.

“Mr. Witt, I think I twisted my ankle earlier. Could you help me?”

Witt assumed his recklessness had hurt her. Fueled by a young man’s urge to impress a beauty, he replied without hesitation: “Of course—it was my fault. Where were you headed, Miss Kaelxi?”

“I work at a bakery in north Cesecity. Please, help me there. I can’t walk alone now.”

“My pleasure, miss.” Witt supported Kaelxi as they slowly headed north.

Close together, he caught her scent—sweet as freshly baked bread.

Kaelxi’s legs were fine. She just wanted to cozy up to Witt, extract his secrets, and win his trust. She’d make this poor guy swoon over an Elf beauty—even though Kaelxi still saw herself as a perfectly normal guy and scorned such tricks. But Witt had truly humiliated her. Not just ten times over—twelve times!

*That damn fool made me… leak… You’re dead!* she fumed inwardly, flashing Witt a sugary smile. “Mr. Witt, you’re not from Cesecity, are you?”

Witt felt elated by her smile, ignoring its odd glint. “No, I came from the kingdom’s eastern edge for an Adventurers’ Guild quest.”

Kaelxi feigned interest. “Wow! Traveling so far—you must be a top-tier adventurer! Your quest sounds epic!”

“It’s… not much. But it matters deeply to me.” Flustered by her praise, Witt chuckled shyly.

They chatted and laughed along the way. Her company warmed Witt’s heart—he rarely interacted with humans, let alone women. Kaelxi’s gentleness melted him.

For Kaelxi, the boy’s presence brought long-forgotten agony. Pretending was exhausting. Listening to his boring monster tales while gushing over him felt like torture.

Soon, the bakery came into view. Kaelxi pointed. “Mr. Witt, we’re almost there.”

Witt saw it too. Parting loomed.

He felt reluctant. These moments with Kaelxi were his happiest in months.

Witt closed his eyes, repeating ten times: *The quest matters more than women.* He opened them, gazing ardently at her, memorizing her form.

“Miss Kaelxi, do you know cheap inns here?”

“Hmm, let me think…” Kaelxi pondered the worst lodgings and her next trap for Witt. Before she spoke, Witt slapped his forehead—startling her.

“Damn thief!” Kaelxi shuddered, thinking she was exposed. She braced to surrender.

Instead, Witt apologized: “Sorry—I lost my cool. My wallet’s stolen. I’ll sleep on the streets tonight.”

Kaelxi had leaked a little earlier in the alley, easing the pressure. She’d planned to wait for the bakery’s toilet. But nearing it, she’d relaxed—and Witt’s scare almost made her leak again.

Witt stared openly. She had to keep up her act, though she wished he’d rot in a sewer.

Gritting her teeth against the urge, she gave him a sympathetic look. “That’s awful. If you don’t mind… stay at my place? It’s beside the bakery.”

Witt hesitated, not wanting to trouble her—then saw her tearful eyes.

*She’s so kind.*

*Like an angel.*

*Or… does she not want me to leave?*

He agreed instantly. “I accept gratefully.”

“No need to be formal, Mr. Witt.” Her tears weren’t from affection—they were from desperation. Keeping him overnight was perfect. No more scheming: she’d drug him with sleeping pills and sell him to the mines tonight.

*Fool, get ready to eat mine slag!* Kaelxi felt devil horns sprouting from her head, bat wings unfurling behind her.

Witt supported her onward, but Kaelxi’s legs trembled. She’d reached her limit.

“Mr. Witt… my foot hurts worse. Can we rest?” she pleaded.

“Let me carry you,” Witt whispered.

“O-okay?” Faster to the bakery meant an end to this agony.

A faint joy bloomed in Witt. *She didn’t refuse. She likes me too.*

Eager to impress, he squatted, then stood abruptly.

“Yikes—!” Kaelxi yelped. Before she knew it, she was on his back.

Witt jogged at full speed. To stay on, Kaelxi clung to his neck, her chest pressed against his rigid back. His pace was fast but jarring—she bounced wildly with each step.

“Please… don’t… run slower…” she gasped.

The friction of her tender points against his back flushed her cheeks. The bloating surged with every bounce. She felt like a water cup shaken madly.

Her voice was faint. To Witt, it sounded like “don’t… run… slow…”

He sped up instantly.

Her words dissolved into incoherent murmurs. Rubbing against his back, her mind blurred. The pain vanished. She floated in warm bliss, thinking of nothing.

The dam burst.

Witt felt only her warm, sweet breath quickening on his back. He heard nothing, didn’t look back—just ran.

At the bakery door, a warm wetness soaked his shirt. The unlucky guy turned blankly.

Kaelxi’s golden hair clung to her sweaty forehead. Her eyes were half-lidded, teeth biting her lower lip. Glistening drool stained Witt’s shoulder.