Angela had no idea she’d just sparked a catastrophe.

To her, this was just a tiny prank. How could girls of similar age possibly harbor bloodthirsty grudges?

"Yikes!"

A place never touched by others faced its gravest crisis.

A slightly cold hand slithered with serpentine grace over the girl’s tender backside and slender waist…

No one saw. No one knew. Angela had to face her approaching classmates—her devoted fans, newly tamed followers, and cliques she couldn’t afford to lose…

So between resistance and submission, Angela chose silence. Pretending nothing happened.

"How could *our* Angela stand beside this freak?! Oh my god!!!"

A freckled girl shrieked like a character stepped out of a famous post-impressionist painting.

The commotion drew attention to Lenna.

Intimidated by her notorious playgirl reputation, no one dared approach closely—even as the "Devil" held their beloved "Angel."

"What do you want?" Angela hissed, voice tight with panic. "You promised not to touch me in public."

"Can you trust the words of a devil?"

Lenna’s lips brushed Angela’s earlobe. A flick of her pink tongue, and the willowy waist melted like wax under practiced fingers.

She sensed Angela’s desperation—to preserve her flawless image, her fragile reputation. Forced to sacrifice something to the devil without raising suspicion…

"You—! Stop it! If you need *that*, wait until later!"

Angela’s panic surged fiercer than yesterday.

Humans were social creatures. An open academy wasn’t like a closed home.

Before crowds and peers, Angela had sculpted herself into an unbreakable giant. Yet this rat, clutching her secrets, gnawed through every disguise.

"Aren’t you going to greet your fans?"

Lenna’s hot breath ghosted over the crimson ear.

"Look. The idol I stan is actually this wanton girl behind closed doors. So skilled at games… Imagine their disappointment."

"Stop it." Angela’s fists clenched.

"I’ll say it anyway."

Lenna wielded words like scalpels to shatter sanity.

She funneled a lifetime of pent-up rage into tormenting Angela—the perfect punching bag.

"Your father will rage. Your friends will abandon you. Your family will fracture. Everything you cherish will crumble because of *you*…"

The brighter her future shone, the more wretched she felt now.

Her hope for Lenna to heal Little White had utterly died.

*Monster…*

Lenna was a devil wearing human skin!!

"They’re all staring. Nothing to say?"

"I have nothing to say."

*This isn’t some award speech,* Angela thought bitterly.

She was just pork on Lenna’s chopping block. Under filthy hands, even the most dazzling exterior lost its worth, shadowed by shame.

*No one will ever marry me…*

Better to self-destruct with this devil!

Go down together!!

But…

*It’s not fair…*

She’d done nothing wrong. She only wanted to save Little White. Why was this devil haunting her?

Helpless, Angela’s gaze drifted beyond the crowd—to a golden Fox Maiden joyfully chasing dragonflies, tail wagging.

"Don’t even think about her. Know your place."

Lenna’s warning eyes flashed. Her grip tightened, wrenching tears from Angela’s eyes.

A few sharp-eyed onlookers witnessed it.

They finally saw the pure, kind angel suffering unspeakable cruelty!

*Unforgivable!*

They’d punch a hole through the continent of Ixenith itself!!

Senior boys encircled Lenna, fists raised. More joined the crusade—powerless against her status, yet desperate to play heroes.

"Let her go!" the crowd roared.

"Fine." Lenna released Angela, palms open, face innocent. "Let go. Now what?"

"...Uh."

They exchanged uneasy glances. No hesitation? No struggle? Now they were trapped.

She was the infamous Falmore Family heiress. They were country bumpkins and part-timers. In power, they weren’t worth her fingernail clippings.

But the arrow was nocked. Retreat now? Unthinkable. For hot-blooded boys craving glory, cowardice was the ultimate shame.

*Fight?*

*Fight!*

Broad-shouldered seniors closed in, tightening the circle.

"Angela, come here! Stay away from that devil! We’ve got this!"

"Ah… I…" Angela hesitated.

Lenna’s smile deepened. "Go on. Don’t keep your fans waiting."

Angela couldn’t leave. Little White’s life hung in Lenna’s hands. She’d never abandon her mother’s pet—her family.

Only Lenna could save Little White.

Today’s torment was her first warning. If she fled now, the necromantic curse on Little White would become permanent.

But the devil had broken promises before. Could she trust her again?

"Angela, hurry!"

"We’ve got her pinned! Someone get Angela out of here!"

"Amazing! Hold on!"

Concerned shouts and cheers swirled around her like a conductor’s baton at a symphony’s heart.

All these people cared for her. Their faces, though mixed with hidden desires, radiated genuine warmth.

*Should I go…?*

Angela froze.

*Could she even leave?*

Lenna stepped forward, pinching Angela’s cheek as casually as asking about the weather.

The "heroes" recoiled in horror.

Their pure goddess—molested right before their eyes! A direct challenge to their fandom’s honor!

One senior boy mustered courage: "Hey—!"

"Don’t you want me?" Lenna murmured, ignoring him, her voice velvet to Angela’s silence. "Don’t you trust me? Or… can’t bear to leave me?"

Her right hand lifted.

Viscous, smog-like magic oozed from her sleeve—a tangible darkness swallowing her arm. Not pollution, but magic refined to its densest, purest form.

"Were you even listening?! HEY!!!"

The ignored senior finally snapped. His fist rocketed toward Lenna’s face.

He’d defend Angela’s dignity with his strength.

Just as her songs had saved his lost soul…