A few strands of sunlight, like fine threads, slipped through the curtain gaps, casting a warm golden glow on the pristine white sheets.

The lump under the covers stirred slightly, wriggling awake and opening its eyes.

Ugh… My head aches a little.

Yueci Ru reached up to rub her temples. She recalled not drinking much last night…

Trying to piece together memories after getting drunk, only hazy fragments remained. She must have blacked out.

Never drinking again.

Holding her head, she got out of bed. Nishikino An hadn’t changed her clothes; she still wore that hoodie set.

She should thank her for bringing a drunkard back to the room last night.

Hoping she hadn’t done anything weird while wasted.

Descending the stairs, Yueci Ru saw no sign of Nishikino An.

The wall clock pointed between eight and nine.

A note sat on the dining table—left by Nishikino An.

She’d already gone to work. Meat, eggs, milk, and veggies waited in the fridge for Yueci Ru to handle.

Yueci Ru stroked her chin.

Truth was, she didn’t need human food.

As long as no extreme physical strain occurred, the blood absorbed from Hiru Kawakami could sustain her for weeks.

Nishikino An knew about non-human beings and that she wasn’t human anymore. She’d tell her later; it wasn’t a secret.

*Ding-dong—*

The villa’s doorbell rang, its chime echoing faintly to Yueci Ru.

Someone for Nishikino An?

Pretend no one’s home?

“Miss Yueci! Are you there? Could you come take something?”

No answer to the bell, so the outsider shouted instead.

A deep, resonant male voice reached her ears.

Yueci Ru paused. He knew her name—likely sent by Nishikino An.

She opened the door. A tall, burly middle-aged man in a sharp suit stood beyond the iron gate.

As she approached, his features came clear.

His dark, weathered skin spoke of years outdoors. Hair slicked back, he held a document folder.

Seeing Yueci Ru’s face, admiration flickered in his eyes but vanished instantly. He knew better than to overstep.

Then he flashed a rugged, easy grin—oddly clashing with his formal wear.

“You’re Miss Yueci? I’m Oohara. The… commander sent me with your new identity papers.”

Yueci Ru took the manila envelope.

She sized him up silently. Nishikino An trusted him with this—clearly a loyal subordinate.

He called her “commander.” So he was police too?

“Hm?”

While Yueci Ru observed Oohara, he was secretly studying her back.

He’d followed Nishikino An since her middle school delinquent days. Years later, they reunited in the same yakuza group.

He knew sticking with the boss was right. Twenty-plus years of loyalty and raw strength defined him.

He was her right-hand man.

In all that time, besides her daughter, he’d never seen the boss this close to anyone—living together, even.

He’d never heard her mention someone so gently. Not even her decade-old daughter got that tone.

The boss had warned him: hide her yakuza ties from Yueci Ru. Made him, the gang’s second-in-command, pretend to be a cop—a role he loathed.

But this proved how much she cared. So the boss liked younger partners.

Spotting Yueci Ru’s outfit, Oohara’s eyes widened. Shock escaped as a soft grunt.

“This is Miss Nishikino’s daughter’s clothes. Something wrong, Mr. Oohara?”

Yueci Ru caught his intense curiosity. Wearing the daughter’s clothes might reveal more about Nishikino An.

Knowing her enemy meant better daily interactions.

Oohara exhaled in relief. He’d feared questions about the unmentioned daughter. Now, no awkward dodging.

The boss only banned yakuza talk. Other details should be safe.

“Just surprised. I bought this for the young miss years ago. Never thought I’d see it on you.”

Oohara laughed heartily.

Truth was, the young miss wore it on missions, loving the chaos—limbs flying, brutality unforgettable.

Yueci Ru believed him. A cop wouldn’t lie over clothes.

“Does the young miss visit often?”

Seizing the chance, Yueci Ru pressed.

“Well… she lived with the commander before. But lately, she’s rebellious. Cold wars, rarely home. Moved out alone.”

“Sigh. Sometimes even the commander doesn’t know what she’s up to.”

Oohara rubbed his head, sharing the commander’s headache.

He’d watched the girl grow. Even joined Nishikino An at the orphanage years ago—when she vowed no marriage, only an heir.

Among obedient kids, she chose the one who stole her wallet on sight.

He still recalled that malnourished face: fierce defiance, eyes sharp with ferocity.

She learned to hide it, but excitement brought back her true nature.

Oohara couldn’t grasp her personality. Stranger than the boss’s.

Recently, she’d applied as a teacher at Light Private High School. She must be scheming something big—no way she’d settle for boredom.

Just hope she didn’t cause trouble. The boss had real duties as police superintendent.

Listening, Yueci Ru pictured a mischievous, rebellious teen.

Imagining Nishikino An, head throbbing, facing her daughter—it felt comical. Suddenly, the commander seemed human.

“If nothing else, Miss Yueci, I’ll take my leave?”

Oohara checked his watch. Late already. He had to teach those West District punks a lesson.

Yueci Ru nodded. “Take care.”

Back inside, she didn’t open the envelope. Casually set it on the table.

Just the usual paperwork anyway.

Honestly, she was still sleepy. A nap sounded perfect.