Volume 2

Chapter 32 : The Incomplete Truth

Though he said he wanted to see her recent research, Mingfuluo knew exactly why Anselm was here.

Probing, teasing, taming… it was one of those.

Only, he hadn’t brought that loyal beast chained to him but her sister instead.

This Marina was clearly far trickier than that beast.

Mingfuluo wasn’t sure if Anselm brought her to keep pressuring her or for some other purpose.

Pondering how to handle Anselm, Mingfuluo led them to her alchemical workshop.

Standing before the tirelessly humming machines, Miss Zege, whose demeanor clashed with her petite frame, said calmly, “Where should I begin?”

Anselm lowered his gaze, fixing on Mingfuluo’s face—or rather, her gray-white glasses.

“You even found time to upgrade the data system?” he asked, surprised.

“…There’s too much to handle.”

Mingfuluo removed her glasses, offering them to Anselm.

“Want to see this?”

Miss Zege didn’t lose her intellectual air without the glasses.

Her slightly deep-set eyes and indifferent gaze made her otherwise cute face unapproachable.

Anselm toyed with the glasses for a moment, then shook his head, chuckling.

“Too much to handle, so you made something even more complex. Truly… interesting.”

He returned the glasses.

“Have you been branching out lately, or still working on… the universal ether furnace?”

Mingfuluo’s expression stiffened, her gaze instantly locking onto Marina.

“No need to be nervous,” Anselm raised an eyebrow. “You think Marina’s untrustworthy?”

The woman took a deep breath, her expression cooling.

“Conditioned reflex, sorry… I’m not working on that. It’s not the right time.”

“It’s good you can restrain yourself. For now, it’s indeed not suitable to pursue.”

Anselm strolled deeper into the workshop, inspecting material samples on the workbench and the metal smelting in the furnace.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“These are all designs from three years ago. Don’t you have anything you want to create yourself?”

“I do, but they don’t compare to your ideas.”

Mingfuluo answered calmly.

“The concepts you left behind are far more valuable than what I could create now.”

“Such serious flattery?”

“Just stating the truth.”

The young Hydra laughed happily.

“Fine, I’ll take it. Need any help?”

Mingfuluo froze.

“…Help?” She repeated, uncertain.

“What’s so strange?” Anselm countered. “Haven’t we collaborated before?”

Nidhogg’s prototype came from their collaboration, but that was more necessity than partnership.

The true collaboration, sparking fervent ideas and passion, had long ceased to exist.

Mingfuluo’s first thought was that Anselm was joking, mocking her tension and daze.

But she quickly realized he was serious, which meant his purpose could only be…

“I don’t mind helping you sort out your thoughts, but the price—”

…As expected.

Mingfuluo’s briefly stirred heart calmed.

She knew Anselm’s goal was singular: to drown her in the abyss of rationality.

No matter what he did, he’d make her pay a price or force her… to make a choice.

Should I… feel sad right now?

She whispered to herself—should I be sad that Anselm abandoned me, so coldly intent on killing my emotions?

Yet Mingfuluo couldn’t summon the sadness she thought she should feel.

She tried to extract bitter juices from past memories, but all she tasted was numbness.

Her initial resentment toward Anselm, that burning flame, had faded with his actions, his revealed intentions, his unchanged resolve.

“…The price is, before my next visit, learn to show a genuine smile again.”

“I… understand?”

Her calm response wavered on the last word.

Mingfuluo stared at Anselm’s amused face, thrown into confusion.

What does he mean?

Is this mockery?

Or a deeper scheme?

Why would he set such a price?

Is he luring me… to ask for his help with my grandfather’s death?

Mingfuluo couldn’t pin down the reason.

The only thing she held firm was that nothing Anselm did was for her benefit.

If she didn’t see that, her fate would be like that collared female beast—something Mingfuluo had long understood.

Now, though, she added another truth: she might not even get the chance to wear a collar.

If she wasn’t extremely cautious, she’d likely become a disposable tool.

But if, if he truly wanted to help…

Impossible.

That alone was impossible.

“…I understand.”

Dismissing the faint, absurd thought that arose, Mingfuluo’s expression remained indifferent.

“Learn to… smile. I’ll try.”

“Just so you know, if you fail, there’ll be a penalty.”

Anselm said with a light chuckle, “Alright, let’s begin. Where do you need my help?”

Mingfuluo steadied herself.

“The phase stabilizer. The theoretical concept you mentioned hit a bottleneck during transcendentalization. I tried using materials with high spatial elements…”

As an observer, Marina couldn’t comprehend the string of words Mingfuluo spoke, but in her area of expertise, she still gleaned something.

This Miss Zege… had an extraordinary passion and talent for her research.

The increasingly perceptive Marina could faintly catch the emotional shifts in Mingfuluo when discussing these matters.

To a third party, her expression remained cold and distant, her tone unwavering, but Marina sensed a glimmer of… longing in the depths of her gaze.

The black market game had indeed been a profound lesson for Marina.

Though she nearly buckled under its overwhelming terror, Anselm’s timely restraint allowed her to grow significantly in understanding human hearts.

The girl mused silently.

According to her sister, this Miss Zege was likely to become Anselm’s second Contract Head.

Becoming a Contract Head required talent, aptitude, and, above all, absolute loyalty.

A fanatic driven by ideals would struggle to devote themselves entirely to anything else.

Marina wondered… How did Anselm plan to tame her?

At the same time, she had her own considerations.

—Elnilisa’s words and Anselm’s subtly unusual behavior in the black market made Marina sense something, but she couldn’t confirm it, nor did she dare… confirm it.

She wanted to investigate further but feared alerting Anselm, not wanting him to know she was so presumptuous, so audacious, as to probe into the past and secrets of the one she served… Yet Marina had resolved to do so.

Not just out of ambition to become a Contract Head, but because the pain and despair she felt in that game strengthened her determination to unravel Anselm’s burdens.

Three years ago… that was a critical juncture.

From Hitana, Marina learned Anselm had tried to tame Mingfuluo back then but failed.

If Hit asked what happened between Mr. Anselm and Miss Zege… it would be fine, but I can’t, and I can’t let Hit ask either.

Silently watching Mingfuluo, now fully immersed, Marina thought to herself.

At the same time, I can’t rashly approach Miss Zege, because I don’t know Mr. Anselm’s plans… wait.

A sudden thought struck her.

[What if this is Mr. Anselm’s plan? He didn’t say anything or give me any instructions, but…]

The girl instinctively glanced at Anselm, who seemed to sense it, turning slightly to smile at her. Marina quickly lowered her head, hiding her reaction.

This time, it wasn’t Hitana but Marina accompanying Anselm—not at his request, but her own suggestion, wanting a chance to understand Mingfuluo.

Marina hadn’t expected much, but Anselm agreed readily.

[If… Mr. Anselm wanted me to say something to Miss Zege, if this is his way of taming her?]

A chain of logic clicked in Marina’s mind.

She gradually understood, then deeply grasped her purpose here.

So that’s it… I see.

This is the only way to make Miss Zege…

The snow-haired girl, standing quietly to the side, grew even more silent and composed, but her heart was fully prepared for what she must do next.

Though she was being used this time, Marina felt no displeasure—only joy at being able to provide Anselm with more substantial help.

“No, no, no, pure spatial elements won’t do. To establish your position and existence in the Zero Point Labyrinth, you need more elements. Have you forgotten?”

“I remember clearly. You told me it was about ‘absolute spatial stability.’”

“Dear Miss Mingfuluo, were you asleep then? Dreaming, perhaps?”

“Esteemed Mr. Anselm, I have absolute confidence in my memory.”

“Fine, so you’re saying I’m the one who’s wrong.”

Anselm sighed, rubbing his temples with mock distress.

“It seems my ideas might indeed be flawed. Maybe we should shelve this project for now. With your current alchemical skills, you can’t make it anyway.”

“…”

Mingfuluo’s temple twitched.

She instinctively gripped her alchemical knife tighter to avoid damaging the prototype with excessive force.

The familiar surge of anger and irritation caught her off guard.

This long-forgotten feeling—not tied to any specific task but simply from being immersed in their exchange, provoked by Anselm’s nonsense—was so reminiscent of three years ago.

A chill ran down Mingfuluo’s spine.

In just a few words, that devil had pulled her back to those… times she still considered fond.

What was he doing?

He claimed he’d turn her into a rational monster, so why do this?

Mingfuluo took a deep breath, suppressing the faint ripples of emotion.

“I… misremembered, Anselm. Let’s continue.”

“Good girl!” Anselm grinned, ruffling Mingfuluo’s head. “Admitting mistakes is a virtue. Let’s keep going.”

An act that would’ve once made Mingfuluo explode didn’t provoke her now, but her slightly heaving chest betrayed her lack of calm.

How… absurd.

Believing she’d no longer be swayed by Anselm, Miss Mingfuluo clenched her fist unconsciously… She didn’t feel sad when he coldly tried to turn her into a tool, so why was she so rattled by a few words and casual gestures?

The crux was, she couldn’t force herself to sever these emotions with rationality—she didn’t want to become an emotionless machine so soon.

This combination of anomalies made her feelings so… absurd.

“Mr. Anselm.”

Marina, who’d been standing quietly, suddenly spoke.

“Someone’s contacting you.”

“…Hm?” Anselm raised an eyebrow. “Give me the communication crystal.”

The girl complied, stepping quickly to Anselm’s side and handing him the crystal with both hands.

Anselm glanced at the contact, his brows lifting slightly.

“It’s him…”

The young Hydra pondered for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

“Mingfuluo, I have to step out for a bit. Marina, let’s go.”

“…Mr. Anselm.”

Marina, standing beside him, spoke up.

“Do you absolutely need my help there?”

Her words surprised Anselm slightly.

“Not really… Do you want to stay here?”

“Yes,” Marina nodded gently.

“I’d like to get to know Miss Zege better. Please forgive my presumption.”

Her seemingly candid words perfectly concealed her true intent.

Anselm laughed heartily.

“What’s to forgive? But Mingfuluo’s not easy to approach, so be careful. Don’t get too close.”

“Yes, Mr. Anselm.”

After Anselm left the workshop, Mingfuluo deliberately kept her distance from Marina.

In the seemingly lively yet desolate workshop, without that man… it felt like most of its vibrancy was gone.

Marina, standing quietly at a distance, studied Mingfuluo’s profile.

She was certain… Miss Zege was entirely different with Anselm present versus absent.

Not in ability or performance—one wasn’t better or worse—but in a deeper, intangible aura.

In this aura, Miss Zege rejected anyone’s approach, conversation, or… interference.

Yet only Anselm could naturally exist within it, even shaping it as he wished.

Only someone deeply connected could share such a bond… like Hitana, usually brash and terrifying to enemies, turning lazy and clingy around Anselm.

“…Miss Zege.”

After long contemplation, Marina spoke.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Speak.”

Mingfuluo responded coldly, not looking up.

“Was Mr. Anselm… once close to you?”

The woman working on the platform paused briefly, stopping her task to glance at Marina, her gaze icy and sharp.

“I mean no offense,” Marina said humbly. “If this upsets you, I’m sorry.”

“…Somewhat.”

After a brief silence, Mingfuluo answered quietly.

“He and I were friends, of course, only in the past.”

To Mingfuluo, no matter what Marina said, it represented Anselm’s will, so she answered truthfully.

“Only… in the past?”

Marina smiled gently.

“But I feel your relationship with Mr. Anselm now isn’t bad either.”

Mingfuluo’s wrist twitched as she resumed etching an ether circuit, ruining the material.

“What… nonsense are you spouting?”

Her tone carried clear coldness.

Though her petite figure working on the platform looked comical, her tone and expression radiated intense pressure.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Marina, ignoring Mingfuluo’s faint anger, tilted her head.

“I saw it clearly. You, working with Mr. Anselm, are completely different from now.”

“As for the difference…”

The girl pondered, then said with certainty:

“I’m not denying your passion for your work. Even alone, I can feel your dedication and focus, the resolve to devote everything to something worthwhile. I share that.”

“But even with that attitude alone, when you work with Mr. Anselm, you’re clearly more…”

Marina searched for words, then smiled.

“More… vibrant. There’s a vivid, brilliant vibrancy.”

“…Get out.”

Mingfuluo’s unsteady breathing punctuated her words.

“I don’t welcome self-righteous people here. Leave, now.”

“But Mr. Anselm asked me to stay.”

“I’ll apologize to him. This has nothing to do with you.”

An invisible force bound Marina’s body as the workshop’s doors swung open.

Mingfuluo clearly intended to toss her out.

“Miss Zege.”

Unfazed, Marina gazed at her, saying earnestly:

“Mr. Anselm abandoned something incredibly important to him.”

Her words froze Marina in midair.

“That’s the real reason I wanted to stay.”

“What happened between you three years ago? What was so precious to Mr. Anselm? Can you tell me?”

Bang!

The workshop doors slammed shut.

Marina’s body was roughly yanked before Mingfuluo, the force making the ordinary girl wince, though she quickly endured it.

“I understand your purpose here now.”

Mingfuluo stared into Marina’s eyes.

“You’re his tool to influence me. He knows I won’t trust him… so he’s using someone else’s words to sway me?”

“You’ll be disappointed, Miss Zege… Could you put me down first?”

“…”

Set on the ground, Marina smoothed her skirt, curtsying elegantly.

“In fact, Mr. Anselm… doesn’t know about this. Everything we’ve discussed is my own initiative.”

“If you don’t believe me,” Marina smiled brightly, “you’re welcome to use a lie-detection or mind-reading spell to verify.”

Mingfuluo studied her kind, gentle smile for a long moment, then tossed her a jade stone.

“Hold it.”

Marina caught it, asking curiously, “Do I just speak?”

Mingfuluo ignored her, asking directly, “Did Anselm send you?”

“No,” the girl replied calmly, repeating herself.

“I received no instructions from Mr. Anselm. This is all my own doing.”

The jade stone remained cold, showing no reaction.

The petite woman’s expression grew uneasy.

After a pause, she cautiously asked again, “Not just direct orders—any hints?”

“None,” Marina shook her head, candidly.

“Mr. Anselm gave me no overt or subtle instructions on this. It’s all my own reasoning.”

Not only that, she continued, “And this isn’t my own guesswork. It came from the Lady’s words.”

“The Lady… you mean Anselm’s mother?”

The jade stone remained unchanged, but Mingfuluo’s expression showed clear turmoil.

“Anselm’s mother said he… abandoned something important?”

“Yes, Miss Zege.”

“…”

Mingfuluo’s gaze grew distant, her mind flashing with vague, fleeting images that vanished instantly.

She said nothing, her breathing increasingly erratic, clearly… deeply shaken by Marina’s words.

“Miss Zege?”

After a long silence, Marina couldn’t help but ask, “Do you believe me now? Will you give me some hints or help? Three years ago, what exactly…”

“Nothing.”

Under unsteady breaths, Mingfuluo spoke deliberately, “There was nothing. Just two people parting ways, that’s all.”

Her response disappointed Marina.

“I don’t know where your resentment toward Mr. Anselm comes from, but even if he clashed with you for some reason, aren’t you willing… to forgive him?”

“Something… important? Do you know what you’re saying? Do you think there’s anything in this world that could threaten him, force him to give up something?”

Mingfuluo’s voice was hoarse.

“Even if we assume, for argument’s sake, that he had many important things, how could I know which one it was? No, I can say with certainty that between him and me, there was no such ‘important thing’ you speak of.”

“You don’t know where my resentment comes from, do you? Well, I’ll tell you now.”

Deep in her purple eyes burned intense anger and… the sadness Mingfuluo had tried to conjure but thought she lacked.

“Anselm Hydra, the man who called himself my friend.”

She struggled to keep her voice cold and detached, void of emotion.

“—From the very start, he deceived me. Our friendship was nothing but a laughable, third-rate drama, a vile, shameless lie.”

“And he admitted it himself, not some malicious assumption on my part. Even… even until recently, three years later, I still held some hope for him.”

Mingfuluo took a deep breath, exhaling her simmering rage.

“Are you satisfied now, self-righteous Miss Secretary?”

“…” Marina gazed at Mingfuluo for a long moment, then bowed deeply.

“I understand, Miss Zege.”

Before Mingfuluo could react, she continued, “I was too presumptuous, asking such questions without considering the pain you might have endured. Likewise…”

She raised her head, her eyes carrying an indifferent, lofty gaze—unfitting for a mortal directed at a transcendent—looking down at Mingfuluo.

“Assuming you could be an asset to Mr. Anselm, expecting you to help him, was equally naive of me.”

She curtsied slightly, calmly saying, “I’m sorry for causing you such displeasure and for harboring these unrealistic expectations.”

When Marina looked up again, her face bore a gentle, approachable smile.

“Don’t mind me. I won’t disturb you further. Please continue your work.”

***

In the dim underground safe room, Mingfuluo stared at the nutrient fluid in her hand, silent.

She’d grown accustomed to this place, to the company of cold machines and puppets, the only things that gave her a sense of security.

Warmth, liveliness… those were unnecessary, meaningless.

Anselm hadn’t returned after leaving the workshop. His visit seemed only for that brief taunt—or perhaps… to leave Marina behind to say those things to her?

She hadn’t lied, though.

Or… did she carry a counter-spell from Anselm?

That would make sense.

With him, it was normal for her creations to fail. In fact, it was highly likely…

Crack—

The nutrient fluid bottle’s surface shattered.

“…”

Mingfuluo recalled the girl’s expression, her words, and felt something lodge in her chest, stifling her, leaving her… frustrated and powerless.

She knew she was deliberately avoiding it.

In that moment, hearing that “Anselm abandoned something important,” she couldn’t process it, instinctively denying, escaping.

Because if she didn’t, the boundless loneliness she’d endured these three years, the immense pressure she’d been forced to bear, and the resentment she held toward Anselm… what would they amount to?

Discarding the nutrient fluid, Mingfuluo walked to the mirror.

To fulfill Anselm’s request, she’d deliberately placed a mirror in this spartan safe room.

The slightly petite yet mature woman gazed at her reflection. In the dim room, her image was faintly unclear.

Over these three years, her appearance had barely changed, but the essence of this body had long parted with its past.

To sustain Babel Tower under Ivora and the Ether Academy’s pressure, to advance her ideals… she’d sacrificed so much, yet three years yielded little.

This empire, this world, remained stagnant, with no hope of progress.

Countless times, Mingfuluo wondered if things would’ve been different with Anselm by her side.

That’s why, when he returned, she still held a flicker of hope.

If it was true, if Anselm was forced to break up with her because of some event or entity, if he hadn’t entirely deceived her, if he hadn’t used that ideal as a sweet lure and cruel trap but genuinely hoped for that future…

If she’d trusted him then, pressed him for the reason behind his “deception,” would everything have truly been different?

“Anselm…”

You said you didn’t need me, that I had no value, so why call me your friend?

“Anselm…”

You said you’d destroy me, push me into the abyss, turn me into a monster existing only for ideals, so why stir my emotions?

“Anselm…”

Are you deceiving me, or do you have your own burdens?

In your eyes, what are the era, the future, the world?

And what… am I?

“Anselm!”

The ocean beneath the iceberg surged with towering waves.

The silent, barren earth was torn by hurricanes.

The serene blue sky roared with furious thunder.

Cold rationality tangled with turbulent emotions—Anselm’s words, actions, deceptions, burdens… Complex, incomprehensible, contradictory emotions intertwined, driving Mingfuluo to shout uncontrollably, her fist smashing the mirror.

“…Hah… hah…”

Her petite frame slid to the floor, sitting awkwardly, forehead pressed against the shattered mirror, panting.

Why… Why, when she’d resolved to erase herself and sacrifice everything, did she hear this?

“Anselm…”

She whispered the devil’s name.

“What do you want from me? What… have you been through?”

“Three years ago, why did you—”

Mingfuluo’s words halted.

Three years ago… she and Anselm parted ways.

Why?

Because Anselm confessed that everything he said was a lie, all his actions were deceitful.

…And then?

Mingfuluo felt a pain—not in her forehead, but her soul, a deep, indescribable agony growing sharper as she thought deeper.

Then… What did I say to him? What did he say to me?

Looking at the countless faces reflected in the cracked mirror, a vast fear surged within her…

Three years ago, why did they part?

What caused it?

She couldn’t have let it go without questioning and Anselm wouldn’t have brushed it off.

Why… Why couldn’t she remember?

“Guh!”

A soul-rending pain surged.

Mingfuluo clutched her forehead, veins bulging on her hands.

“What… why… Anselm…”

In panic and confusion, Mingfuluo stared at the mirror, its countless cracked fragments reflecting her back.

They seemed to say in unison—

The truth isn’t in your thoughts.

***

On a wide, soft bed, Marina, resting on Anselm’s arm, felt a heavy drowsiness.

She nuzzled his shoulder, whispering, “Mr. Anselm, I’m going to sleep. Let Hit keep you company.”

Anselm gently stroked her head.

“Rest well. You’ve worked hard.”

Marina squinted, smiling happily.

“As long as Mr. Anselm is pleased.”

“Lina… drinking potions every day isn’t sustainable.”

Still straddling Anselm, her cheeks flushed, Hitana rested her chin on his shoulder, speaking to Marina.

“It’ll ruin your body… Don’t you want Anselm to find a way to make you transcendent? That, uh, Water of Redemption thing—doesn’t it work?”

Marina shook her head lightly.

“Mr. Anselm doesn’t accept imperfection, and neither do I.”

“You need to respect others’ choices, Hitana,” Anselm said, stroking her back.

“Marina has her own ideas.”

“There’s no rush now… If a better opportunity arises, I’ll ask for Mr. Anselm’s help.”

Marina leaned gently against his shoulder, smiling.

“Helping Mr. Anselm makes me happy, but I won’t miss a chance to rely on him… Oh, right, Mr. Anselm, your arrangements today were brilliant!”

“Hm?”

Anselm raised an eyebrow.

“Which arrangements?”

“Leaving me to tell Miss Zege about your burdens, without any instructions from you.”

Marina deftly used “burdens” instead of Elnilisa’s exact words, as her conversation with Mingfuluo carried some personal motives.

“…Oh, that.”

After a brief silence, the young Hydra smiled gently.

“How did she react?”

“She kept denying it, but I could see… she was deeply shaken. Mr. Anselm, Miss Zege definitely cares about you.”

“Huh? What? You went out today and gave that sour-faced freak a lesson?”

Miss Hitana said excitedly, “I love seeing her squirm! Lina, what did you say to her?”

Marina smiled, raising a finger.

“That’s a secret between me and Mr. Anselm.”

“Secrets between us now? I’m getting mad, Lina! Believe me, tomorrow night I’ll—”

After ten minutes of playful banter, an exhausted Marina fell into a deep sleep.

Hitana, pressed against Anselm, waited until her sister’s breathing steadied, then her smile faded, replaced by worry as she looked at Anselm.

“Anselm…”

She whispered in his ear, “Did Lina… do something wrong? For a moment, you seemed… unhappy.”

“…Not unhappy, just surprised.”

Anselm held Hitana gently, speaking softly.

“I don’t blame Marina. I just didn’t expect this.”

“I… didn’t intend for Marina to tell Mingfuluo about my… certain situation.”

Or rather, Marina shouldn’t have known about his unique circumstances.

The black market game had given fate an opportunity, or perhaps… his excessive behavior then had contributed.

Marina had sensed a terrifying truth and, driven by fate, revealed it to Mingfuluo.

Undoubtedly… this would greatly restore Mingfuluo’s human, emotional side.

“Per the original plan, I intended to completely discard Mingfuluo.”

His words startled Hitana.

“Dis… discard her?”

“Initially, I considered her for a Contract Head because I was too confident and… hadn’t yet changed certain ideas.”

“But now, she has little value to me. And with you, Hitana, bearing two Contract Head powers, destroying her would indirectly kill a future hero.”

No trace of pity lingered in Hydra’s eyes.

“That outcome is acceptable.”

Babel Tower, ideals.

These two lifelines of Mingfuluo’s—the former was already in Anselm’s grasp, and the latter… was nearly his too.

“That’s… a bit extreme, isn’t it?” Hitana seemed conflicted. “She’s arrogant, sure, but she’s somewhat useful, and… and…”

“And what?”

The girl glanced at Anselm, whispering, “And I feel like you care about her a little.”

The young Hydra paused, then laughed, ruffling Hitana’s head.

“That’s because of you, dear Hitana.”

“…Huh?”

“In the past, I saw my bond with Mingfuluo as disposable, irrelevant if destroyed. But influenced by you… I think, if she could be tamed, it might be better.”

“But that’s just another option. Her destruction wouldn’t particularly sadden me… just like how I initially aimed to break you, Hitana.”

“Bad guy!”

The girl playfully punched Anselm’s chest in embarrassment.

“Actually,” Anselm smiled.

“Fate won’t sit idly by and let me turn Mingfuluo into a purely rational tool. It was always going to find a way to make her reclaim her human emotions. And once it did, the person she’d least be able to escape would be me… No matter what, I hold the upper hand, and—”

“And?”

Anselm said mysteriously, “This taming didn’t start when I returned to the Imperial Capital.”

“From the beginning, I stood on invincible ground.”

“…Hmph, boasting.” Hitana huffed, squirming. “So, Anselm, what do you… really want with her?”

Anselm gently stroked the girl’s soft short hair. “No matter how fate pushes, my plan proceeds as intended. As for the outcome…”

Arlo, it all rests on you.

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