After a long talk between the guild master and vice guild master, it was far too late—they each headed to their rooms to sleep.

Annawiel was floating on cloud nine. She didn’t sleep a wink all night.

Restless, she stretched in bed while replaying every moment of the evening in her mind.

Torina Dewell.

That detestable woman.

With that disgustingly gorgeous face.

With that loathsomely long black hair.

With those hatefully crimson eyes.

With that annoyingly perfect figure.

With a narcissism so extreme even dogs would side-eye her.

Absolutely…

utterly…

completely…

totally—

NO, ABSOLUTELY PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT—AMAZING, RIGHT?!?!

Torina Dewell had actually invited *her*—just the two of them—to raid the boss! Tomorrow night! And she’d whispered, *“Don’t breathe a word!”* Wasn’t that basically a secret date?! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Brimming with energy, she burst out of the inn the *second* the beauty salon opened! Today: spend every last coin on the most luxurious full-body spa! Polish gear until it gleams! And underwear—*underwear*—must be swapped for the most dazzling, victory-deciding set! Annawiel, CHARGE! CHARGE! CHARGE! CHARGE! CHARGE! CHARGE! CHARGE! CHARGE!!!!!!

---

Last night, while Annawiel—the ☆ verbal beast, ahem, *unreliable teammate*—tossed and turned restlessly…

Torina was also grinning ear to ear.

*Genius. I’m a genius.*

She’d discussed the lord boss strategy with Annawiel, expecting the haughty young lady to play hard to get. Instead? Full agreement.

*She’s desperate for the first kill. Makes sense.* Raiding satisfied Annawiel’s impatience and vanity *and* added double insurance against her quitting. Two birds, one stone.

But her real joy? The cheat skill!

As a reincarnator—the one *originally* insta-killed because the author forgot her cheat—she finally had her turn! Her hidden class, “Office Drone,” was *powerful*! The future shone bright!

Uh…

*Did it?*

“Office Drone”… seriously?

Great skill, terrible name. Couldn’t it be “Azure Star,” “Ashen One,” “Tarnished,” “Penitent One,” “Beheaded,” “Shovel Knight,” “Dragonborn,” “Vault Dweller,” “Doom Slayer,” or “Invincible Hero”? Even *Otto* beats this!

*(…And the skill’s shady. Descriptions feel trollish. Skills are half-censored…)*

First: How does the Office Drone Gauge fill? What’s the damage absorption ratio? It drained halfway during the last fight, now slightly recovered—does it regenerate over time? Faster, please?

Second: What *are* the other skills? Only “Office Drone Never Dies from Overtime” is visible. Curiosity’s killing her.

*(…Whatever. Tomorrow’s raid needs a tank. This’ll work.)*

She drifted into a hazy sleep.

…

…

…

How long had she slept?

“…………?”

Torina woke feeling hollowed out. Limbs stiff. Head spinning. *Exactly* like pulling a thirty-hour overtime shift in her past life—that “ascending to heaven” exhaustion.

*(Bad sleep? Wrong posture?)*

Dazed, she dressed and shuffled downstairs. Each step piled on fatigue; muscles ached like they’d soaked in vinegar.

At the restaurant—

“Oh? Mornin’, Guild Master! Need me to wash your socks—eh?!”

Torina stumbled, collapsing limply against Lachesis.

“Guild Master? What’s wrong?!”

“I… headache… legs like jelly… nausea…”

“Food poisoning?”

“N-no…”

*Office Drone Never Dies from Overtime: Damage consumes the Office Drone Gauge first. HP depletes only after gauge empties.*

↓

*Note: Absorbed damage manifests as “fatigue” post-combat.*

Torina saw this far too late.

“Need help to the restroom?”

“I said—it’s not my stomach…”

“Alright, alright, lemme see her.”

Radiant Priestess Naji arrived.

Still in that scandalously tailored priestess robe, voice dripping with gal-like sass—but utterly professional with patients.

“Naji… *sniff*… save me…”

“Hey! Don’t slump on me! You’ll chip my nails!”

Naji stared helplessly at Torina, limp as a deboned eel, clinging to her shoulders like a newborn, head nestled against the guild’s *third*-most generous chest.

“So tired… help me…”

“Duh. I can *see* that, sweetie.”

“Naji… quick… *milk* me…”

“…Huh?”

“Milk me… just… *milk*…”

“‘MILK’????”

This world had no “milk” slang—only “heal,” “restore,” “buff.”

“Milk” was pure Earth-muscle-memory from Torina’s past life.

Naji, naturally, misinterpreted.

“Th-this… is this *serious*?! You’re *sure*?!”

“What? You’re a priestess… I need milk… *hurry*…”

“…………”

Naji scratched her head, sighed dramatically, rolled her eyes. “*Fine.* Just. Once. Ugh…”

She yanked Torina into a shadowed corner, glanced around, then tugged her neckline wider—revealing undeniable warmth.

“Hurry. *One time.* Only ‘cause it’s you…”

“…Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me! You *asked* for this! Just—*do it*!”

“WAIT—NO! YOU MISUNDERSTOOD!!!”

“HAH?!”

Torina stammered: “It’s slang! From my homeland! Means *heal*, *buff*, *cure*—NOT THAT!”

Naji’s face cycled red, white, pink. Scolding under her breath, she still cast a fatigue-relief blessing.

Torina got scolded… but secretly thrilled. *Taking advantage of the spicy nun… pure bliss ❤️*

While Torina enjoyed *that*, what was Annawiel doing?

Oh—getting a spa treatment. All good~

And Mylora?

Torina hadn’t spotted her since dawn. Too drained to care. Didn’t even notice Wenren Jixue was missing.