Nellie skipped off with a grin. Abel watched her go, that look of pure amusement on her face, and couldn't help but sigh in resignation.

He then headed toward Shea's room.

"Asleep?"

Abel tapped gently on the door. No reply came from inside. After waiting a moment, he pushed it open.

He approached Shea's bed. The girl slept peacefully, her breathing steady and rhythmic. Abel pulled up a stool and sat down, focusing intently on her face.

He had to admit, this Lucky Cat was genuinely pretty.

Especially when asleep—she looked incredibly cute.

But how could he hide her terrible physical condition from her?

And convincing her to use less magic in the future was another headache.

"Mmm..."

Shea turned over, now facing Abel. The blanket slipped down slightly.

She mumbled something about selling things later and making a fortune.

"Oh dear..." Abel felt a mix of exasperation and amusement. Was she really thinking about money even in this state?

Truly, she lived up to being a Lucky Cat.

Abel drew the curtains, dimming the light.

He also blocked whatever gaze might be watching from afar.

Then he settled in to wait quietly for her to wake.

On a distant high platform, the black-clad man lowered his binoculars and clicked his tongue.

"He noticed us."

"The target is a Radiant Sun Rank Hunter after all. That level of perception is expected."

Rora, standing beside him, felt equally frustrated.

Earlier, Gin—Rora's companion in black—had reported that his sister was injured. They'd come to observe the situation together. But who could have guessed this shameless Hunter would take advantage of her weakness and slip into her bedroom while she was hurt?

No. He had to stop him immediately.

"Gin, put on these clothes."

"Huh?"

Rora handed him a set of night attire—designed for women.

Gin stared, dumbfounded. "Miss... what exactly are you planning?"

"Go lure that annoying Hunter away. You'll impersonate Rico."

Gin had white hair. Though tall and broad-shouldered, with some disguise and enough distance, he should be able to draw the irritating Hunter away.

The cost? Just Gin's dignity.

"Miss, this..." Gin grimaced. He never imagined he'd wear women's clothing. Yet even now, he pleaded, "Must I really wear this?"

"How else will we draw the snake from its hole? Hurry up."

Rora's command was merciless. Gin hesitantly pulled on the skintight female night suit.

A truly devoted subordinate wears women's clothing when his master requires it.

The suit mirrored Rico's almost exactly, leaving nothing of Gin's muscular physique to the imagination. With his white hair and a hat to complete the look, his silhouette from afar would pass muster.

Except head-on—it was hard to look at. Otherwise, flawless.

"Not bad. It fits well. You may go now. And don't cross my path again until you've taken that thing off."

Rora turned away, unable to look—mostly to stifle her laughter. Could you imagine a muscle-bound man squeezed into tight women's wear, with certain unmentionable areas straining the fabric? Rora nearly burst out laughing.

Maybe Daniao Zhuanzhuan Bar catered to such tastes. She'd have to introduce Gin later.

"Miss, I'm off."

Gin bowed and left the platform. Rora waited for his success.

Not long after, Abel, keeping watch beside Shea, suddenly heard stones tapping against the window—not once, but repeatedly. Irritation flared within him.

He threw the window open, expecting some mischievous kids. Instead, he saw a familiar black-clad figure with white hair vanish around a corner.

"Rico?"

Abel frowned. That silhouette seemed unusually broad. But the cloak obscured the details.

"Must have been my imagination."

He shut the window. Chasing Rico wasn't his priority now. Guarding Shea was his duty. Nellie had entrusted her safety to him—he wouldn't abandon it.

Yet barely had he closed the window and drawn the curtains when the tapping resumed. A flicker of anger sparked in Abel.

Disturbing someone's sleep was deeply rude. And disturbing Shea's rest? Unforgivable.

He flung the window open again. Sure enough—the same black-clad figure, same white hair.

Could it really be Rico?

Abel grew wary. He wasn't naive. Such desperate attempts to lure him away hinted at a scheme.

And the only target near him was Shea.

Was Rico after Shea?

Abel kept his guard up. He slipped a teleportation scroll beneath Shea's mattress, drew the curtains, and gave chase to the fake "Rico."

"Miss, the target is out."

"Copy that."

Rora emerged from the shadows. She leaped onto the balcony, scanning the area. Confirming Abel hadn't doubled back, she slipped into Shea's room.

"Sister's scent..." Rora took several deep breaths, then began checking the room for signs of trouble.

"He did nothing? Impossible."

After a thorough search, Rora was stunned. She couldn't believe any normal man could resist her sister. She certainly couldn't.

Since resisting was impossible...

Rora gazed at the sleeping Shea, her throat suddenly dry.

This seemed like the perfect opportunity. A tiny, secret kiss—surely Sister wouldn't notice?

Like a woman possessed, Rora crept closer. She reached the bedside, staring at Shea's peaceful face, swallowing hard.

"Just once..."

She leaned down slowly, inching toward Shea until she could feel her sister's breath. Then, flushed crimson, Rora jerked upright and shook her head vigorously.

"No, no, no. Not unless Sister is awake."

She took three deep breaths, sat on the stool, and simply gazed at Shea with adoration.

But as she watched, something felt wrong.

"Why is Sister's mana circuit so chaotic?"

As a Rising Sun Rank mage—second only to Radiant Sun—Rora quickly sensed Shea's dire condition.

She grabbed Shea's hand, channeling magic to probe her body. What she found made her face darken with shock.

Gently, she placed Shea's hand back under the blanket. After a heavy breath, she ground out the words:

"Tidal Cult..."

Rora stormed out of the room, fury radiating from her. She had cockroaches to exterminate.

Before leaving, she left a note for Abel.