The rain fell harder and harder.

Jiang Jiu finished mixing the last cocktail, placed a coaster beneath it, and slowly slid it toward Lady Witch seated at the bar.

Lady Witch lifted the glass, took a delicate sip, and gave a satisfied nod.

Not a word passed between them. A subtle silence draped the entire bar—like the hush before a storm, heralding the drama soon to unfold.

Jiang Jiu broke the quiet first.

“So… how exactly does one boost magical power quickly?” she asked, head lowered, voice casually indifferent. “Sacrifice? Curses? Some ritual?”

It echoed that iconic MMORPG line:

*And what is the price?*

In nearly all fantasy worlds, equivalent exchange was law: gain demanded loss. Jiang Jiu knew this well…

But only if Lady Witch chose to offer her a stepping stone.

Clearly, she wasn’t inclined to.

Lady Witch lifted her gaze, face unreadable as she locked eyes with Jiang Jiu.

“Why should I help you? If I’m not mistaken, you’re rushing for power to save the An Corporation’s young mistress?”

Boiling emotion stirred magic. Just like the night Jiang Jiu was forced to swallow that potion, countless slime-coated tentacles slithered soundlessly from the shadows, writhing until they filled half the bar.

Jiang Jiu felt two had already coiled around her ankles, creeping upward—leaving a cold, slick trace through her stockings.

Yet she stayed calm. Even smiled.

“Then… will you help me if I beg?”

In an instant, she adopted a pitiful, obedient pose, biting her lip convincingly:

“Please, Master… I’ll do anything you ask.”

Lady Witch’s frustration spiked.

Clenching her fist, she sent the tentacles crawling up Jiang Jiu’s thighs.

“You really *like* me, Jiang Jiu? So you’d risk everything to save An Ning?” she ground out. “Do you think I’m foolish enough to aid my own enemy?”

To the world, the Silent Witch was an iceberg of indifference. But before Jiang Jiu? That ice shattered—melting, boiling, bubbling with heat.

Jiang Jiu remained blissfully unaware, wearing that helpless, innocent mask.

“Enemy?” she asked, feigning confusion. “Why would you think An Ning is your enemy, Master? I don’t like you. I don’t like An Ning either… So how is she your enemy?”

“…”

Her resolve hardened.

This time—truly, utterly.

Lady Witch finally drew her Enchanted Wand, ready to command the tentacles further.

Then Jiang Jiu leaned in.

A faint blush warmed her pale cheeks. Lips the shade of cherry blossoms pressed softly—mysteriously alluring, like a beauty half-hidden behind a lute. Raven hair spilled down, evoking mountain streams and rustling leaves.

She closed the distance to Lilith, stared straight into her eyes, and flashed a radiant smile.

“If one day *you* end up like An Ning is now… I’d move heaven and earth to save you too.”

“So… help me, Lilith?”

Jiang Jiu whispered the name gently.

Lilith’s hand trembled.

Instinctively, she withdrew the wand, deliberately avoiding Jiang Jiu’s gaze, voice low:

“…Do you think an Archwitch like me would ever become a stray dog like those anomalies, waiting for *you* to save me?”

Jiang Jiu said nothing. She simply smiled, straightened, picked up Lady Witch’s glass, and wiped it slowly with a towel.

The tentacles silently retreated—leaving only a slick film on her stockings.

The bar fell still again, as if nothing had happened.

Two minutes passed. Then Jiang Jiu heard a whisper, faint as a mosquito’s buzz:

“…Blood. Use my blood.”

She looked up—just as a sharp *clang* echoed through the bar.

A toppled barstool.

Soft. Cold. Lady Witch kissed her.

But just before their lips met, Jiang Jiu heard the murmur:

“You know what to do next… you wicked woman.”

Jiang Jiu lowered her eyes, set down the glass and towel, and gently wrapped an arm around Lady Witch’s waist.

Then she bit the girl’s lip.

Sweetness bloomed on her tongue—sweeter than any wine she’d ever tasted. Hints of wind, dew, mist.

Life surged through the tiny bar. Lilies in wine bottles sprouted wildly, exhaling intoxicating fragrance. Goldfish in the aquarium turned toward Jiang Jiu and Lilith, bowing respectfully through the glass.

Power flooded Jiang Jiu—but she didn’t pull away.

She waited until Lilith pushed her back.

“Get out.”

Lady Witch’s voice was ice.

“Thank you.”

Jiang Jiu nodded sincerely, ducked under the bar, took the black umbrella from the stand, and stepped into the rain.

Only when the figure vanished beneath the umbrella did Lady Witch turn, lift the half-finished glass of Witch’s Night, and drain it in one gulp.

The lip wound healed instantly. Her expression stayed cold… yet a trace of weariness lingered.

“When that time comes… will you really save me?”

She gritted her teeth.

Somehow, she knew Jiang Jiu—despicable as she was—would keep that promise.

“That’s exactly why you’re so infuriating… that… shameless flirt.”

With a sigh, she slumped onto the bar.

…

Amid the rubble of the collapsed An Corporation tower, Mr. Zhang reformed into a human-shaped silhouette.

He instinctively tried to breathe deeply—then remembered. He was the Color Out of Space now. No lungs. No breath. He simply hovered, silent.

Memories stitched together. Using touch to “see,” he looked where An Ning had fallen—but saw no lifeless corpse.

Only a large black umbrella. And beneath it, the maid gently stroking An Ning’s cheek.

*An Ning’s ally?*

He tried his usual gentle smile—but had no face left. To the maid, only starlight twisted where cheeks should be.

A low hum shaped human words:

“No need to struggle. She’s already with her father… Now it’s your turn.”

The maid didn’t glance at him.

Her eyes stayed on An Ning, who strained to speak, tugging her skirt:

“Go… I’m fading… but you’re innocent. *Go.*”

The maid sighed softly.

“Though I marked you to monitor your state… I should’ve come sooner. I’m sorry, An Ning.”

An Ning blinked, confused, then shook her head weakly, forcing a fragile smile.

“It’s okay… I’m glad you came. Just go. It’s not your fault. Don’t… avenge me.”

“Avenge you? You’re not dead yet.”

“Only a matter of time.”

Her body was shattered. The forbidden potion had multiplied her power a thousandfold—but drained her life essence. Wounds. Side effects. She was slipping away.

Yet the maid smiled.

“An Ning… remember that night on the rooftop? You asked what would happen if you died.”

An Ning’s mind drifted—rain, fire, whiskey on the parapet wall. Drunk, broken, whispering that question…

Slowly, deliberately, she whispered:

“…What fades in the rain shall be reborn in flame.”

The maid’s smile softened. A fingertip touched her forehead.

“Exactly. So be reborn, An Ning.”

Flames ignited.

From brow to fingertips—burning wounds, burning pain, burning every trace of harm into ash.

Rebirth in fire.

The maid rose gracefully, turned to Mr. Zhang, and tossed the umbrella aside—a knight’s gauntlet thrown. It wobbled to his feet.

“I’m in a foul mood tonight,” her voice remained sweet, melodic. “Please bear with me?”

“Silence means consent.”

“Good… Then I shall kill you.”

In the next breath, she stood before him—Enchanted Wand in hand, smiling.

She had come to kill.

[To be continued]