PUA tactics and empty promises couldn’t hold a candle to a public figure’s genuine moment. In the wholesome Tata Town and its surroundings, having someone like Mei Yige—a kind, responsible old hand—among them was a blessing they’d never earned in lifetimes.

Was a missing hire from the Association a big deal?

It could be. Or it could be trivial.

But the Guildmaster sending so many people over this ambiguous matter wasn’t overreacting—it was that silly dragon girl testing her staff’s competence.

Did the townsfolk truly care about Hans’ whereabouts?

Why bother with some outsider? Gone was gone. The real issue was his disappearance right at the town gates.

Mei Yige genuinely admired the residents’ wisdom. They’d collectively pressured the Association and guards to take a stand, absolving locals of blame while securing future safety.

"Finding clues isn’t the point," she declared. "Effort is human; success is fate. What matters now is our attitude. Guards, double patrols. Association members, spread out and investigate. Show resolve. Calming the townsfolk comes first."

Her words struck like cold water on drowsy heads. Everyone slapped their foreheads, scattered to work, wiped sweat from their brows, and dropped stiff smiles.

Mei Yige strolled toward a horse grazing quietly.

Magic was wondrous. Since arriving in this world, she’d dissected its every mystery.

Plainly put: her mastery rivaled few alive.

As the Void Witch who’d forged her own "Void" magic system—a system only she could wield freely—she’d once been the Witch Society’s honorary chair.

Stripped of the title for "collaborating with the enemy," yes.

But titles could be revoked. Power couldn’t be denied.

"Hey, pal."

The horse kept munching, ignoring the odd human.

"What happened to the guy who rode you?"

No reply. Horses had pride too—they didn’t chat with just anyone.

"I’ll buy you apples. Tell me how he vanished. Deal?"

Word Magic—a mythic art lost to time. Mei Yige had revived it out of boredom, craving gossip from monsters and critters. She’d once used it to spread rumors about the Hero selling hooks, only to accidentally spark a legendary romance.

*Don’t think about that. Makes my blood boil.*

The horse flicked an ear, scraped its hoof. Mei Yige instantly offered a handful of grass.

"A black-cloaked man with gold hair took him?"

The answer from the horse’s mouth eased her mind.

Human culprits meant no need for panic.

Brushing the mane of the riderless horse, Mei Yige pondered why Hans was targeted.

Attacks never lacked motive. Local missing persons records might hold clues.

"*Sigh*. I’m a handyman, magic tutor, and now a detective too? How tiresome…"

Shaking her head, weariness weighing on her, she headed back into town.

————————

Troublemakers never consider the chaos they unleash. To Shiren, devouring a person was like a bird swallowing fruit pulp without a thought for the discarded seeds—whether they’d ever sprout into trees.

No big deal.

"Ran out of perilla leaves… Should’ve stocked up."

Blearily awake, she checked her top-priority grocery item and rubbed her temples.

Cleaning Hans’ remnants last night had revealed her pantry’s emptiness. Eight months since her last shopping trip.

"Disguise time?"

Before the full-length mirror, Shiren sighed at her eternally petite frame.

What kind of Great Lord Blood Demon looked like a fourteen-year-old girl?

Zero dignity. Zero intimidation. Convenient for stealth, yes—but deeply unsatisfying.

Even illusions could fake height. But fakes were fakes. She pressed a hand to her chest, tried to pinch—only empty space answered.

Frustrated, Shiren stripped off her nightgown, pulled a loose yellow-and-white dress from the wardrobe, and twirled. Instantly, she looked years older.

"Deception… Feels less like tricking others and more like fooling myself."

Touching her illusory softness deepened the hollow ache in her chest. Mei Yige’s face surfaced in her mind, overlapping with the twenty-something woman reflected in the glass.

"*How* did she grow so… generously?"

Remembering yesterday’s embrace—the unmistakable press against her back—proved Mei Yige’s terrifyingly ample curves.

Shiren wasn’t insecure. She just craved being a "grown woman" people would call *Sister*. This childish face trapped her, an ancient being too hesitant to face the world.

"*She* calls me ‘Sister’ so sweetly… Tch. Why do I keep thinking of her? Ridiculous."

Irritation flared. The Blood Demon resolved to resist that delicious morsel’s mental pull. She yanked open her door, steeling herself against the urge to devour Mei Yige—

Only to find the very "morsel" waiting outside.

*‘Sister Shi, sweet tangyuan. For you. Good.’*

A note pinned to a bowl, bearing simple, earnest goodwill.

"*That* one…"

Shiren couldn’t help but smile.

"Acting so pure… How can I bring myself to eat you?"

Cute prey tasted best—that was Shiren’s centuries-old truth. Demonic Beings didn’t *only* eat villains; consuming evildoers just avoided messy consequences.

Back when the Demon King ruled, "tributes" of pre-packaged meals arrived daily. Shiren, ever practical, prayed before enjoying them—and never lifted a finger to help him.

A decision that spared her knowing her harmless-looking roommate was the Hero who’d shattered the Demon King.

"Too sweet… but not bad."

Her earlier anger dissolved. Glancing at the clock—barely 8 a.m.—she realized Mei Yige started work absurdly early.

*Must be exhausting.*

"Alright. Buy seasonings, then back to bed~"

Stretching, Shiren plotted her shopping route. Let the other toil; she only cared they didn’t drop dead before sharing a warm meal.