Shiren had originally planned to have her retinue prepare a unique "blood feast" to pressure Mei Yige with the Blood Demon’s aura. But now, all thoughts of that vanished completely.
What began as an obsession had shifted into something almost childishly stubborn. Right now, Shiren simply wanted to understand the girl who’d rented her house—the girl who’d made her feel things she’d never experienced before.
And what was happening before her eyes now? It was like watching a usually playful, unserious friend suddenly switch to a gloomy demeanor, looking fragile as if arranging her final affairs.
That’s exactly how Mei Yige felt to her.
All this time, Shiren had brushed off Mei Yige’s cheerful greetings, her eager "Sister Shi!" calls, her bold attempts to hug her, or her chatty interruptions while Shiren devoured meat without restraint—all treated as mere playful teasing.
But what was this?
A new trick?
No. Emotions don’t lie. Mei Yige was genuinely low-spirited. She’d clearly taken a heavy blow.
"Tch. This kid..."
Shiren decided to let her cross the line just a little. It wasn’t excessive—just a hug. She channeled her consciousness to Sami. Her intuition screamed that Mei Yige’s state was tied to those Inspectors they’d received today.
"I should care about my food’s mood, right? Yeah. That’s it."
Muttering to herself, Shiren pushed open the Adventurers Guild door.
The Guild operated on shifts, open nearly 24/7—a system implemented after the Demon King War to avoid missing urgent requests as the population grew. Even at dusk, the hall buzzed with activity.
"Hey, Miss Sami! Taking a quest? Only gathering jobs left today."
"Our escort mission needs a mage. Interested, Miss Sami?"
As a contracted adventurer, she drew immediate attention. Other adventurers glanced curiously at "Sami"—in Tata Town’s Guild, Shiren’s alias was well-known.
"Nah, save the easy ones for rookies. I need to ask Miss Ryan something."
Smiling as usual, Shiren declined and headed straight for the administrative area. Before Carlicart hired Mei Yige as an Advisor, Shiren had taken many Guild consultant jobs as a mage. She knew Ryan—the delicious blue-haired rabbit girl—fairly well.
Truthfully, if Mei Yige hadn’t rented her house and become her roommate, Ryan might’ve already ended up as dinner on Shiren’s plate.
Of course, Shiren wasn’t the type to devour every tasty-looking thing she saw. Now, she was almost glad she hadn’t stuffed Ryan into a meat pie.
The rabbit was growing on her. Better as the Guild’s mascot than on her plate.
"Ah! Miss Sami, good evening!"
Ryan sprang up as the golden-haired girl entered. To her, this kind mage—who’d guided her when she first joined—was the reason for her respect toward mages and a pillar supporting her smooth workflow. A senior she truly admired.
"Evening. Still working late? The shift system doesn’t seem to apply to your department."
Shiren casually poured herself tea, her gaze landing on the report on Ryan’s desk. "Rough day?"
"Compared to those Inspectors from the capital? This was nothing. Ugh..."
"Hm?"
"You have no idea how exhausting it is dealing with big shots who think they’re important."
Ryan slumped over her desk, deflated. Her long ears drooped as her chest pressed against the desk corner—a sight that nearly made Shiren choke when she accidentally glanced over.
Her hand instinctively drifted to her own chest.
Good. This body still had *some* curves.
Unlike her true form, which couldn’t stay voluptuous no matter what tricks she used. That was infuriating.
*[Eating what you lack... Tch. Don’t fool yourself.]*
Definitely her mother’s fault. No curves inherited, no breastfeeding—poor prenatal nutrition, she figured.
Her wandering thoughts didn’t show on her face. Shiren feigned curiosity. "Big shots? The Inspectors in town today? Weren’t they staying at the inn north of town?"
"I was hosting them with Sister Yige... Ugh. Almost got beaten again. Do I really repel people that much?"
Ryan fretted over how often her neck and surroundings became targets. Was she just bad with high society?
Surely someone as approachable as Sister Yige was the exception...
"Inspectors are just lapdogs. Not true nobles—just bullies abusing power. Once they leave Tata Town, want me to deal with them for you?"
"Really?"
Ryan’s head snapped up, missing the way Shiren licked her lips—a faintly sinister smile playing there.
"Can’t have trouble *in* town. But... dealing with them on their way back? No problem."
To Shiren, "dealing with them" absolutely included frying or stir-frying.
No one would blame Tata Town if they died on the road home.
"Nah... Don’t trouble yourself over them, Sami-nee."
Ryan wasn’t vengeful. Despite Aviva’s hostility, she refused Shiren’s offer.
"That’s my Ryan. Heh..." Shiren steered back to her real concern. "I saw Miss Yige on the street earlier. She looked... wilted. Like a frostbitten eggplant. Did those noble lapdogs upset her too?"
At this, Ryan sighed again. "I feel awful about Sister Yige. I thought she was... well, unserious. Always slacking off. But after today, I realized she handles the heaviest workload here. Without her, the reception would’ve been a disaster. She’s really worried about the Hero possibly coming..."
Before leaving the Guild, Mei Yige had warned Ryan not to spread the Hero rumor beyond the Guild—only report it to the Guildmaster first. Then she’d left, frowning.
"The Hero’s coming to Tata Town?"
Shiren’s expression darkened. The Hero who’d defeated the Demon King might uncover her presence here. She’d need to reduce her... acquisitions sooner than planned.
"Yeah... Sami-nee, do you think the Hero will be like *them*? Sister Yige said they’re fanatics. If the followers are like that, can the one they worship really be kind...?"
Ryan felt her job getting harder by the day.
Shiren stayed silent, seemingly deep in thought.
In truth, her main body had just encountered an emergency—forcing her to log off instantly.
"W-What are you doing...?"
Startled, Shiren tried to break free from the embrace trapping her.
Mei Yige was awake.
And she’d gently nipped Shiren’s ear.
A careful, teasing lick followed.
