So, Nainai had come here after all.

Tears of failure welled in the corners of Nainai’s eyes. Her delicate, doll-like face flushed with deep humiliation as she glared resentfully at the desolate open ground littered with haphazardly abandoned cars.

It was exactly eight in the evening... the sky hadn’t fully darkened yet.

Summer nights always came so late.

But this twilight hour, neither day nor night, had already draped the deserted junkyard in a thick, eerie atmosphere.

Deep in the alley, the barbed wire mesh Fusiming had torn down last night still hung in place...

Yet on the damp muddy ground inside, besides the deep shoe prints he’d left, fresh footprints had appeared.

Their size matched the old ones perfectly.

This proved Fusiming had kept his word and arrived first.

—Was he so certain she’d come here?

Gritting her pearly teeth, the shame in Nainai’s damp violet eyes intensified threefold.

Yes, she’d lost.

Not by choice, but because harsh reality forced her to submit.

After seeing off the air conditioner repairman, Nainai had already planned to risk a trip to the West District.

She wore nothing but an oversized white shirt... completely bare underneath, with only a narrow waterproof bandage stuck on her delicate spot.

Thankfully, it was waterproof... otherwise, its stickiness might’ve failed by now.

But her plan ended before it began.

Just as she left home, she realized...

She had no way to reach the West District.

If her phone still worked, she could’ve scanned a shared bike, lowered the seat, and wobbled there.

But her phone had died last night.

With the Little Succubus’s pitiful stamina, walking across half the city before 8 PM was impossible.

Especially without sneakers.

Hiking long distances in flat strapped sandals would shred her baby-soft soles...

So!

F*ck! All Fusiming’s fault!

Fuming, Nainai kicked the tattered barbed wire mesh hard.

Clattering sounds echoed as rust flakes trickled down from the large hole torn in its center.

—“Tonight’s our last meeting. We’ll never see each other again!”

Her own farewell words from yesterday echoed in her mind like invisible slaps stinging her cheeks.

Nainai learned her lesson: never speak so absolutely again. Always leave room to maneuver.

Otherwise, she’d only slap her own face...

Of course, she’d learned it.

But whether she’d change was another matter.

“I refuse to surrender! This is unavoidable!”

“It’s that bastard’s fault! He starved me!”

“Today’s the last time!”

“Tomorrow... I’ll never come back! Never!”

Look—she’d just learned her lesson, and here she was again...

Clutching her shirt’s hem, Nainai lowered her head, closed her eyes, and muttered frantically.

A tangible aura of resentment swirled around the Little Succubus like a low-pressure zone.

Admittedly, self-hypnosis through words helped a little.

After all, if she didn’t act awkward, the awkwardness fell on others.

She just needed to seem natural... then that bastard Fusiming couldn’t mock her!

Nainai, Nainai! Where’s your thick skin? Your strong heart? Bring them out!

The Little Succubus covered her chest, took deep breaths, and frantically built her mental armor.

Nainai had thought she had nothing left to lose...

But true shame and humiliation felt unbearable.

Her heart pounded wildly. Her face burned.

Goosebumps prickled her spine. Cold sweat chilled her to the bone.

Worse, her whole body trembled, legs weak as cotton, making her steps floaty and unsteady.

...

“Inhale... inhale... exhale...”

Sure enough, the breathing trick for expectant moms eased her stress.

At least she felt less miserable now.

Maybe she’d adapted?

Adapting to shame, to humiliation... how sorrowful that sounded.

But no matter what, Nainai had taken the crucial first step!

She’d entered the junkyard!

Near the building’s edge, shaded mud retained moisture, leaving clear footprints.

But in the sun-scorched plaza center, the earth had hardened like brick.

Fusiming’s tracks faded at the wet-dry boundary.

Still, they led toward the dilapidated shack from last night.

The destination loomed close... yet Nainai couldn’t take another step.

Crouched behind a wrecked car, she stared conflicted at the shack’s silhouette in the twilight.

Her heart churned like an elementary kid hesitating outside the teacher’s office after misbehaving.

Go? Or not?

Grimacing, Nainai gnawed her thumbnail with crunching sounds, her violet eyes swirling with panic and shame.

That bastard Fusiming... how would he see her?

Mock her? Trick her?

Despise her? Call her a shameless bitch?

If he did, what then?

Hit him? Yell? Pretend ignorance?

But she couldn’t beat him...

First surge of courage, then decline, then exhaustion.

Nainai’s “first surge” had already hit stage three.

The more she overthought, the more she wanted to flee.

Inner shame grew exponentially until it hit the breaking point of total surrender.

So, mind in chaos, she didn’t notice the eerie shadow looming behind her.

Taller than Nainai, its upper body bristled with porcupine-like steel spikes.

Then, a monstrous coal-black hand slowly reached for the oblivious Little Succubus...

...

Maybe... just go back...

Her thumbnail was gnawed ragged.

In the end, she humiliatingly chose to quit.

Nainai didn’t know her future... but she just wanted to run home and hide.

But as she turned to leave, dejected, a warm, rough male hand gently rested on her exposed shoulder.

“Meow—! Ghost! Aaaah—!!!”

The sudden touch turned Nainai into a kitten with a stepped-on tail.

She screamed, wailed, and jumped in a comical dance.

This left Fusiming behind her—shoulder laden with steel frames, hands blackened by rust and dust—utterly stunned.

Ghost? Where?

His silver eyes, hidden under bangs, snapped wide, scanning for threats.

He crouched slightly, shielding Nainai with his body.

But the terrified girl soon realized the “ghost” wasn’t supernatural...

Though a dirty bandage covered his right cheek, those signature curly black bangs—only Fusiming matched them.

“Fusiming! You bastard!”

Shame flared into rage. Startled badly, Nainai roared with fury.

Her voice cracked from the high pitch.

Her delicate eyes shot up, blazing with tangible anger.

The Little Succubus clenched her tiny fist and punched Fusiming hard in the stomach.

“Cough—”

Nainai’s strength was tiny... but the spot she hit was terribly inappropriate.

Plus, Fusiming had no guard up around her.

A blow landed right above his groin... the youth clutched his lower abdomen, curling up in humble pain.

The agony of testicular tremors.

“Idiot! Stalker! Fool! Pervert! Lolicon! Scum! Criminal!...”

After punching him, Nainai wasn’t done.

Insults poured like machine-gun fire from her honeyed cherry lips.

She also stomped her sandaled foot—with its tiny heel—repeatedly on Fusiming’s instep.

Yet despite this treatment... Fusiming didn’t resist.

He understood now: the “ghost” she’d screamed about was him...

Accidentally, he’d scared the Little Succubus again.

This punishment was deserved...

Lips pursed, Fusiming silently took her rage.

Anyway, he’d tolerate everything about the pink-haired little girl.

After all, Nainai was barely 135 cm tall... even if he stood still, her punches wouldn’t draw blood.

If venting her anger on him comforted her, Fusiming wouldn’t refuse.

As long as Nainai found solace and joy, that was enough.

The taciturn youth truly didn’t know how to say no to someone he cared about.