On their way out of the Guard Department headquarters, Hong Meiling suddenly spoke up.
"I think neither of those two names is very fitting."
"Huh?" Flandre tilted her head, red eyes wide with curiosity.
"Sword of Damocles is close, but I feel like a cool name like that should be saved for an even grander Arts," Meiling explained, breaking down her thoughts. "As for Gray Matter Pin... well, your Blood Magic is red, right? Why not call it Red Pin? Gray doesn't suit your Arts at all!"
Giggling together, the two happily made their way out of the Guard Department gates.
After they waited outside for about ten minutes, Beatrice emerged from the building. Seeing Flandre and Meiling standing by the entrance, a warm smile spread across her face.
"Let me take you home!"
Beatrice took Flandre's small hand, leading the two of them toward the nearby garage.
Ten minutes later, the black vehicle pulled up smoothly beside the villa.
Stepping inside the house, the group found Patchouli sitting quietly on the living room sofa, watching TV.
"Patchy!"
Flandre skipped across the room and threw her arms around Patchouli's waist.
"Hmm? Did you do something bad again?" Patchouli looked down at the little girl in her arms, her voice soft and even.
Flandre squirmed in her embrace, looking up innocently. "How is that possible? Flan did a good deed today!"
Patchouli glanced up at Meiling, who nodded in agreement. "Uh, yes—it definitely counts as a good deed!"
Reaching out, Patchouli gently rubbed Flandre's blonde head. "Tell me, what exactly happened?"
After Flandre eagerly recounted the day's events, Patchouli turned her gaze back to Meiling for confirmation.
"Flandre's version is a little exaggerated, but generally accurate," Meiling added with a smile. "We originally planned to experience Lungmen's local customs and street life today, but..."
Meiling trailed off, shooting an apologetic look toward Beatrice, realizing her words sounded like a slight against Lungmen's public security.
Beatrice merely shrugged, expressing her helplessness. "Over the past two years, Lungmen has been aggressively recruiting talent from across Terra. Our human resources gap is massive, especially for individuals with specialized skills. But when the population surges so quickly, bad seeds and people with bizarre logic are bound to slip through.
"Even though the Guard Department has tried every measure—increasing patrol frequency everywhere, organizing regular community study sessions through the Neighborhood Management Committee, and broadcasting legal education on TV and radio—Lungmen is simply too vast. There will always be blind spots. Not to mention internal domestic matters like this, which are almost impossible to detect unless someone stumbles upon them."
Beatrice sighed softly. Just like the little girl today—if her stepmother hadn't happened to pick a fight right in front of Flandre, no one might ever have known she was suffering severe abuse at home.
With so many new residents settling down, traders flooding the markets, and bad actors sneaking in over the last two years, the pressure on the Guard Department was immense. Situations like today's were truly difficult to monitor continuously.
"We'll go out to the market again tomorrow!" Flandre declared from the side, puffing out her cheeks. She refused to believe her luck was so bad that she would run into trouble two days in a row!
Meiling wanted to suggest visiting a quieter, less crowded area, but remembering all the delicious street food stalls at the commercial market, she decided not to spite her own stomach and kept quiet.
Only after the discussion settled did Patchouli bring up Flandre's newly crafted technique.
"Cast that Arts on me," Patchouli said calmly. "Let me see how you constructed it."
Bold due to her immense mastery over Arts, Patchouli was deeply curious about what Flandre had put together on the fly. Given Flandre's volatile personality, Patchouli had never taught her techniques involving the brain or soul—those structures were far too delicate for Flandre's heavy-handed nature. She certainly hadn't expected Flandre to craft a functional soul-curse on her own, so she needed to inspect its structure personally.
"Really?" Flandre's eyes widened as she stared at Patchouli.
"Of course. Do you really think you can surpass me in Arts?" Seeing Flandre's hesitant face, Patchouli reached out, playfully pinching and rubbing her cheeks. The little one actually dared to doubt her mastery—it was downright cheeky.
"Okay!" Flandre stared into Patchouli's eyes, a brilliant flash of crimson illuminating her pupils.
Patchouli closed her eyes, opening her perception to absorb and analyze Flandre's magic.
Truthfully, she was genuinely astonished.
Though Flandre had described the Arts as being pinned into the father's consciousness, it was actually anchored directly to his soul. This was clearly the result of all the time Flandre had spent studying soul-related magic back home. Most impressively, the spell was exceptionally sneaky; even with Patchouli actively observing and maintaining a level of defense, the red pin slipped past her shields and lodged itself directly into her spiritual structure.
After closing her eyes to dissect the exact principles and mechanisms of the spell, Patchouli opened her eyes and looked down at Flandre.
"Come here."
Flandre backed away a step, looking wary. "You... you can't spank me..."
"Come here first!" Patchouli commanded without making any promises, beckoning with her hand.
Seeing the danger, Flandre turned to flee, but rings of translucent water suddenly materialized around her limbs, binding her tightly and dragging her floating body straight back to Patchouli's lap.
Under Flandre's terrified, desperate gaze, she was flipped over and held down firmly.
Beatrice looked on with concern, stepping forward to intervene, but Meiling reached out and gently held her back. Knowing Patchouli's temperament, if she was actually going through the trouble of spanking Flandre, it meant Flandre had done something truly ridiculous within that spell.
"I was wrong! Sister Patchy, let me go~~~" Seeing Patchouli raise her palm, Flandre immediately deployed a full-force cuteness attack, her eyes brimming with tearful innocence.
Patchouli promptly activated her Mechanical Mind; the cuteness attack was completely negated.
"Waaah! Meiling, Sister Beatrice, save me~~~"
Before Flandre could finish her squeals, Patchouli's palm came down.
After taking over ten resounding spanks to her rear, Flandre was finally released. Clutching her sore bottom, she scrambled off the sofa and sprinted straight into her bedroom, slamming the door shut.
"Uh... what on earth did Flandre embed in that spell to make you so embarrassed?" Meiling asked, scratching her head. She could feel from Patchouli's aura that she wasn't actually angry—she was visibly flustered and embarrassed, which piqued Meiling's curiosity to maximum levels.
Patchouli rubbed her temples, quickly dispelling the intricate red magic structure from her mind. There was absolutely no way in hell she was going to tell Meiling that the trigger condition Flandre had embedded in the curse would force her to burst out singing:
[You love me, I love you, sweet as can be in the Scarlet Devil Mansion~]
...the very next time she saw Remilia.