Alan hated it when girls cried over trivial things. It was just clothing. Since Medi wanted to wear his, he’d let her. He had plenty of used clothes anyway. Soon, Alan stood before Medi, holding a white short-sleeved shirt and black shorts.

“These are all used. If you don’t mi—”

Before Alan finished, the clothes vanished from his hands. That unused black lace underwear Haina bought still sat untouched. He couldn’t give Medi his worn pair—he had no new ones.

Alan’s clothes now rested in Medi’s hands.

Overjoyed, Medi fixed her bewitching eyes on Alan. That single glance utterly flustered him. Was that seductive look trying to tempt him into sin?

“M-M-Medi… are you okay? Did you get hit hard on the head? Or bump into something while walking? Don’t scare me. Remember your identity—you’re a DarkMage, not some seductress!”

Alan was terrified. Medi looked horrifying: a lecherous grin on her pitch-black face, her usually sensual cherry lips drooling uncontrollably. She resembled a starving wolf. Milky-white light flared from a magic array on Alan’s right hand. No choice—Medi’s state was too strange. He’d purify her soul with Light Magic.

“Light Magic: Soul Purification.”

Soft milky-white light flew from Alan’s hand onto Medi. “Disgusting Light aura. I detest it,” she hissed.

Pitch-black light surged from Medi’s body, shattering the glow. After dispelling it, she gave Alan a bewitching smile and strode toward the third floor.

Watching her ascend, Alan wiped cold sweat from his brow. Bad news—he’d unleashed some formidable trait in Medi. He needed her gone ASAP. A girl like that? Alan couldn’t handle her.

At lunch, Alan ate anxiously while Emma devoured her meal happily. She polished off three beast legs alone, sampled the stir-fried dishes, and finished an entire pot of rice.

An hour later, Haina and Medi appeared on the second floor, freshly bathed. Alan cooked for them. Their appetites weren’t monstrous like Emma’s; half a pot of rice and four stir-fries filled them up.

After eating, Haina questioned why Medi wore Alan’s clothes. Alan replied simply, “Do you want me to see Medi’s underwear?”

Haina fell silent. Medi, sitting across, grinned triumphantly. She’d not only worn Alan’s clothes but smelled them too. *Die, you blue-haired woman. Die, you mistress. How dare you scheme to steal my fiancé.*

The radiant girls resumed their rivalry. Alan held Emma, stroking her head, pretending to be blind and deaf. Emma curled in his arms, nuzzling like a cat seeking affection.

Alan thought Emma must’ve been reincarnated wrong—she belonged with catgirls, not wolf girls. Where was her race’s cold pride?

Soon, Emma sensed two sharp killing intents from Alan’s arms. She didn’t need to look to know their source.

Emma played dead. Safe in Alan’s embrace, she doubted Haina or Medi would dare attack her in front of him.

“Alan! Didn’t you promise to take me shopping for clothes? Why aren’t we leaving?” Medi glared murderously at Emma while speaking to Alan.

Alan sighed. His peaceful days were gone forever. Blame his scheming old man. Just wait—one day, this grandson would be unfilial.

Rubbing Emma’s head, Alan stood. He kept promises. “Haina, stay at the guild with Emma this afternoon. I’ll take Medi clothes shopping. You don’t want her parading in my clothes all day, do you?”

“All day? So this vixen will live here permanently?” Haina’s emerald eyes glinted with murderous intent, as if she’d pounce the moment Alan agreed.

“Probably no—”

“Congratulations, blue-haired woman. You’re right—I’m staying long-term. Don’t forget: I’m Alan’s fiancée, contract-bound. I can live here till the end of time, legally.” Medi cut him off, glaring challengingly at Haina. As the rightful wife, she’d never lose to a mistress.

Sensing fire elements turning violent around Haina, Alan scooped up Medi and rushed downstairs. “Haina, ignore Medi’s nonsense. She’s not in her right mind. She’ll leave once normal. I’m leaving the guild and Emma in your care.”

By his last word, Alan was outside the guild. Haina’s temper was a powder keg. Had he moved slower, the second floor would be a battlefield.

“Alan, why protect that blue-haired woman so much? She’s not your fiancée. How is this fair to me?”

Still in Alan’s arms, Medi’s eyes welled with tears. She felt deeply wronged. She was his fiancée, yet he defended Haina constantly. Did he value that seductress more than her?

Alan was stunned. He felt her injustice—and that shocked him. To him, the contract was mere formality. But Medi clearly cherished it. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so upset.

“Hey, Medi, don’t cry. Do you know what ‘fiancée’ means?” Alan set her down, smoothing her messy purple hair. A gentle smile graced his handsome face.

Medi nodded, a rare hint of shyness in her bewitching eyes. “Of course. It means marrying the man on the contract. My master explained that.”

Alan nodded. What a responsible master—summing up ‘fiancée’ in one sentence. But love? Where did love go? Was it eaten? …