Chapter 157: FPS Expert
It was a story from who knows how long ago. If you really wanted to trace it back, it probably happened more than ten years ago.
In a dark, gloomy cell, a pair of small, blood-soaked hands stretched out.
"This... this is for you."
If a normal person saw the bloody scene, they’d definitely feel scared or even sick. But in this place, it was nothing out of the ordinary.
"What is this? It's covered in blood."
In the darkness, most things were hard to see. You could only hear the “clink, clink” sound of a blood-covered piece of metal being held.
"A trophy… I finally beat that fat bully who always picked on me. This is my trophy… the first trophy I’ve ever gotten in my life."
It wasn’t just a trophy. It was a symbol, something to remember. It was the result of fighting back for the very first time.
From the moment they met, they had been taught to resist. And now, this was the first step forward.
"I don’t want it."
The response was cold and emotionless. A black cloak hid their face, and not even a hint of feeling could be heard.
"You always give me food, so I wanted to give you—"
"I don’t want it."
The refusal came again, cold as the prison walls.
"—But…"
"I said I don’t want it."
The words fell, and the sound of footsteps slowly faded away.
"…"
"…"
"…"
The silence between them stretched on, like a quiet standoff.
In the distance, there was a long sigh. Then, the footsteps came back.
"—Alright, alright, alright, I give up already. Give it to me."
The thing felt like a chunk of iron, cold and hard.
"Ah—um, I hope you like it."
"Whatever. I’ll just sell it for money."
"Huh? Ah… okay… um—if it can help you, that’s enough."
"You… never mind. Next time you give someone a gift, make sure it’s clean."
They hesitated, then shook their head in defeat.
"Ah, right, sorry. I used a blunt weapon, so there was a lot of blood."
"…I meant the item, not you."
"Huh? Oh—right, sorry. I didn’t have time. I came to find you as soon as I got it. That guy didn’t have anything else on him… and I don’t even know what this is."
"Looks like a pocket watch."
The old parts made strange noises, but the hands were still trying to move.
Even though it was rusty all over.
"Pocket watch? I’ve never used one, but I’ve heard of them… If you sell it… hmm—you could probably get a lot of money for it."
"…Idiot."
They wiped off the blood with their sleeve, turned around, and carefully placed the item inside a torn front pocket under their hooded cloak.
“Phew…”
Armand leaned against the door, still trying to calm down. Anyone who had just seen what he saw would be shaken too.
After all, that was Evelia.
She was the pride and masterpiece of the genius alchemist Rachel. How could she possibly be ordinary?
Whether it was her looks, her figure, or her voice, she was the result of everything Rachel had ever learned about making bodies.
The kind of woman that made any man freeze in his tracks the moment he saw her.
Who could stay calm after seeing something like that?
Seeing such a stimulating sight early in the morning, there was no way Armand could calm down, either his mind or his body. Honestly, he was nearly at the point where he could hold the breakfast tray up without using his hands.
…This is terrible.
Armand silently complained to himself about both the situation and his own reaction. He kept taking deep breaths, telling himself that if he could get through this whole “Evelia situation” in one piece, he might as well give up worldly life and join a monastery.
Maybe he should go to the church and become a priest or a monk. If that didn’t work, he could even revive the now-merged “Holy Knight” division and recruit others who had mastered the art of “gun discipline” (self-control).
Women… really are the scariest beings in this world.
Even on the battlefield, Armand had never been this nervous.
Was he really going to let his mind get thrown into chaos this easily?
Evelia… could she actually be some kind of succubus from a fantasy novel?
“Um, Eve—”
Trying hard to calm himself down, Armand called out cautiously toward the room.
“Did you get dressed? If everything’s okay—cough—I mean, if you’re ready, I’ll come in later.”
Just because Evelia was fine didn’t mean he was fine. He still had some... issues of his own to handle.
“Ah, okay, Mr. Armand. I’m getting dressed now.”
“—You’re not dressed yet?!”
Good thing he asked first! If he had walked in again, he might’ve gotten an encore performance.
“Never mind… no rush. I’ll just leave breakfast at the door, and once you’re ready—”
Click. Thud.
Before Armand could even stand up to leave, the bedroom door swung open in a hurry. Evelia poked her head out through the crack while holding onto the door.
“Please come in, Mr. Armand.”
She looked like she had gotten dressed in a rush, her hair was messy and frizzy, and it was obvious she didn’t want Armand to leave.
“Huh? I wasn’t planning to—”
“Please come in.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
After a long, silent stare, Armand gave in with a sigh.
“Fine, fine. I’m coming in.”
…This girl, Evelia, sure was forceful.
Holding the breakfast tray, Armand quietly entered the room like a servant, even though Evelia was supposed to be the maid. He placed the tray carefully on the table.
Since Evelia was still wearing that ridiculously loose robe, Armand didn’t dare let his eyes drift in her direction.
It felt like the roles had flipped. A disheveled noble lady and her poor, helpless servant. He kept worrying that the next moment, what they were eating wouldn't be called breakfast anymore, and the drink wouldn’t exactly be milk in the normal sense.
Not to mention, Evelia was still wearing his robe, his personal clothing, so there was this strange feeling in the air. A feeling that was... undeniably tempting.
“Please sit down, Mr. Armand. Let me serve you breakfast.”
But Evelia didn’t seem to have forgotten her role or her mission. When she saw the breakfast tray, she instinctively had Armand sit down and began cutting the perfectly toasted bread for him.
“…”
That robe was way too loose.
And since serving food meant leaning over, when Evelia stood beside him and bent forward slightly, the poor robe had absolutely no way to hide the, let’s say, exaggerated curves that were pulled down by gravity.
The robe tried its best to keep Armand’s body and soul in one piece. But it was no match for the force it was up against.
Armand’s eyes went wide, staring at the scene in front of him like his eyeballs were about to fall into his breakfast plate.
He didn’t want to look. But it was like his gaze was pulled in by a magnet.
And even worse…
He kind of… enjoyed it…
Ah—no! This is bad!
Armand! You can’t just fall like this!
You’re the captain of the Royal Knights. Not some pervy little scoundrel who only dares to think dirty thoughts but doesn’t have the guts to act on them!
...Wait, that sounds weird. What do you mean, “doesn’t have the guts”? I totally—
Ugh!
What am I even thinking?!
Snap out of it, Armand Systalia! Don’t let desire cloud your mind!
“Um… my clothes…”
“Hmm? What is it, Armand?”
Hearing her name, Evelia responded instinctively. The problem was that when she answered, she turned to face him, and those soft, bouncy, big cotton candies of hers gave a little jiggle too, making Armand’s heart skip a beat right along with them.
If he kept looking, he might have to hold a whole self-criticism session for himself…
“No—I mean… your clothes… Eve, your clothes…”
Armand just couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a piece of bread that hadn’t been sliced yet and held it up in front of his face.
But the bread was way too small to cover Evelia’s figure, so even though he used it as a “shield,” it did absolutely nothing. It was more like he was trying to block his shame, not his eyes.
And to make things worse, there was a warm glass of milk right on the table too. Now he had smell and sight… all that was missing was a taste, and he’d have the full package, sight, smell, and flavor.
He was seriously about to start drooling.
“Are you talking about this outfit? This is your robe, Mr. Armand.”
“Ahhh—of course I know that’s my robe… Just… go change, please…”
At least wear something that actually covers you. If this keeps up, even a man made of stone would end up turning into Sun Wukong, bursting out with a golden staff in hand.
“But I don’t have anything else to change into, Mr. Armand.”
Evelia looked at him with innocent eyes, making Armand feel strangely guilty, like his dirty thoughts had somehow stained her pure heart.
Damn it. Just who exactly is corrupting whose soul here?
“Haaah…”
Hearing what Evelia said made Armand think back to what his old butler told him yesterday. He couldn’t help but sigh.
He had listened to his butler and, without much thought, let Evelia stay the night. In the rush, he had just handed over his own robe to her. At the time, he didn’t turn on the lights, out of respect, and didn’t realize just how badly the robe would fit her.
Looking back now, it really wasn’t the smartest decision. He shouldn’t have let her stay just because of a sudden, selfish impulse.
Selfishness…
Damn it. Since when did he become so selfish?
Last night, he even had the wild idea of stealing Evelia away from the second prince. Maybe he really had drunk too much…
“Let me find something proper for you to wear. That breakfast is yours, so go ahead and eat before it gets cold. I’ll ask the butler to bring you a change of clothes.”
Saying this, Armand stood up. He gently pressed Evelia’s shoulder to guide her to sit at the table, handing her the knife and fork.
“As for clothes… I’ll grab you a shirt or something…”
Mumbling to himself, Armand walked to the wardrobe near the bed. But soon, he noticed the drawer in his nightstand.
His gaze darkened a little, and the relaxed expression on his face vanished in an instant.
“So it was like that after all…”
He let out a bitter laugh, then opened his wardrobe as if nothing had happened, casually picking out a shirt that Evelia could wear without looking so exposed.
As he pulled out something more suitable, his eyes drifted again, and from his angle, he could clearly see that the drawer had been opened and touched.
He never kept any important work documents there. In fact, everything in this room, and even this entire estate, was just personal stuff. That’s why he was never worried about Evelia staying here or snooping around.
Still, what bothered him more than the idea of secrets being discovered… was why she’d done it.
So it really is because of the Second Prince, huh.
Thinking that, Armand clenched the shirt in his hand.
The fact that someone like Evelia could pretend to be loyal to him…
It really left a bad taste in his mouth.