The setting sun painted New Eridu's steel-and-glass jungle in warm gold. Long shadows crisscrossed the streets as a cool breeze lifted fine dust into lazy spirals.
It was a beautiful scene.
And it had absolutely nothing to do with Qianye—partly because he was inside a Hollow, and partly because…
"Waaahhh—!! (I can't breathe!!)"
Inside the Hollow, Qianye was trapped in a sweet, suffocating snare—wrapped tightly by two utterly different forces.
Behind him, a few strands of Rina's silver hair slid over his shoulder, carrying a crisp, chilly perfume. Her arms—soft as vines, flexible and unyielding—coiled around his upper body from the back, drawing him close until he felt like he was being pressed into place and held there.
Warm breath brushed his ear. Her voice was lazy, velvety, and dangerously inviting.
"Lord Qianye, well? To make sure you get to enjoy a truly silky touch, I've been faithfully doing the workout routine you taught me every day, you know?"
Feeling him squirm faintly—like a cornered deer struggling uselessly in a snare—Rina's red eyes gleamed with a predator's satisfaction. Her smile deepened.
Honestly… resisting with only this much strength, Lord Qianye?
So stubborn with words—so pliant in practice.
A flicker of irritation crossed her mind—if Corin hadn't pounced the instant she saw him, Rina wouldn't have ended up with only half of him.
Still, as the head maid of Victoria Housekeeping, she kept up a façade of magnanimity: she let Corin claim Qianye's front, while she contentedly occupied the "prime real estate" of his back.
"Hehe… Doctor Qianye…" Corin's voice was dreamy, dazed with adoration. Her small body clung to his chest as if she were a frightened animal gripping the only tree trunk in the storm—arms and legs locked in place, refusing to let go.
She buried her face in the hollow of his neck, breathing in greedily.
"This feeling… and that calming herbal scent… it's real… I'm not dreaming…" She lifted her face, violet eyes misted over, pleading like a kicked puppy. "Doctor Qianye… can I hold you a little longer?"
"Waaahhh!! (Let go first!!!)"
"Mmm… Doctor Qianye really is gentle," Corin said happily. "You didn't even say no."
Qianye's vision was black with despair.
Behind him was Rina's relentless hold—warm breath at his ear, tightening pressure like a snake cinching.
In front of him was Corin's clingy, full-body latch—her breath tickling his skin, her relentless nuzzling like she wanted to memorize him by scent alone.
He could only think, dazedly: I just didn't see them for a while… how did that turn into this kind of "starvation backlash"?
Lycaon—where are you?! Save me!!
"Rina. Corin. That's enough. Let go."
Lycaon's steady voice cut through the sweet chaos like a hymn from heaven.
He stood a few steps away—tall and composed—silver-gray wolf tail catching the sunset with a cold sheen. His red eyes carried unquestionable authority.
"B-but, Lord Lycaon…" Rina protested, a faint, aggrieved softness in her tone. Still, her arms loosened slightly on instinct. "Lord Qianye neglected us for so long… to make us release him that easily, Rina feels—"
"Lord Qianye will compensate us," Lycaon cut in. He flipped open a delicate gold pocket watch, gaze sharpening toward several figures approaching in the distance. "However, the members of the Cunning Hares have arrived."
His tone turned firm—mission-first.
"Lord Qianye has already assured me he'll find an opportunity to make it up to us. And…" He angled his head slightly, indicating Koleda and Belle—standing not far away, watching silently with complicated expressions. "The two ladies from Belobog Heavy Industries have also been staring rather intensely for quite some time. Rina. Corin. Now—enough."
"…Oh. Now, huh." Rina immediately grasped the subtext.
The languid amusement on her face withdrew into something more proper. She released Qianye with controlled elegance—then extended a pale hand to gently, firmly "unhook" Corin, who was still clinging to Qianye's clothes with desperate reluctance.
Then Rina turned to the Cunning Hares—who had just arrived and were now staring, dumbstruck—and curved her lips into a flawless smile that hid a blade.
"My~. What a surprise," she purred, voice sweetly chilled. "So the Cunning Hares can arrive almost at the same time as Victoria Housekeeping? We were only half an hour ahead, after all."
She enunciated almost at the same time and half an hour with surgical precision—and unmistakable superiority.
"Ah—sorry… no, wait! That's not the point!" Nicole instantly ignited. Her pink twin-tails practically bristled as she stomped forward, hands on hips, green eyes shooting sparks.
She jabbed a finger at Rina and Corin. "Are all Victoria Housekeeping maids this shameless?! Clinging to Qianye like that in public?!"
Her cheeks were flushed—anger… and something she refused to name.
"And you're getting smug over being half an hour early?" Nicole snapped, voice rising as she forced the argument back into her favor. "If that's all it takes to satisfy your arrogant hearts, then you're just pathetic!"
"Miss Nicole," Rina replied, chin slightly raised, as serene as if she were critiquing afternoon tea. "For Victoria Housekeeping, our master's wish is our mission."
"And that is precisely why our service is consistently praised. This time is no exception. Lord Qianye wanted us here quickly—so even without an explicit deadline, we did everything possible. Every second counted."
She opened her hand elegantly, eyes sweeping over the dust-worn Cunning Hares.
"And yet the Cunning Hares arrive with such lax time discipline—only to say something like 'it's just half an hour'…" She paused, red eyes filling with pity. "…Such self-comforting words—so very… loser-like. I can't help but feel sympathy."
As the Cunning Hares' faces darkened into silence, Rina's smile grew deeper—aged wine, beautiful and intoxicating.
"And besides," she continued, voice carrying the confident cadence of a victor, "before you arrived, Lord Qianye never once said the word 'no.' What do you think that means? I hardly need to—"
"Not saying it out loud," Anby cut in, voice cold as quenched steel, "doesn't mean he didn't want to."
She had stepped forward without anyone noticing. One hand rested steadily on the hilt of her tactical blade. Her orange-green eyes were empty of warmth as they pinned Rina in place.
"And from what we just saw," Anby continued—precision-strike cruel, "it was your shameless tactics that prevented Qianye from speaking freely."
Her words landed like a blade edge.
"If we'd arrived any later, Qianye might've been trapped in your hands for even longer. If this is Victoria Housekeeping's style—then you're nothing but wolves wearing sheep's wool."
"Ahem."
Lycaon coughed heavily, snapping the tension before it turned lethal. His gaze flicked to Anby's hand on her weapon, warning clear in his eyes.
"Miss Anby, please refrain from hostility toward wolves. Also…" He looked to the man caught in the center of the storm—Qianye. "Lord Qianye has been signaling for both sides to stop for some time."
Everyone's eyes swung to Qianye.
He stood with his head lowered, bangs shadowing his expression—yet his shoulders trembled faintly, lips pressed tight. And in those clear, jade-green eyes… a thin sheen of grievance shimmered, as if tears might spill any second.
That look—silent, accusing—hit harder than any shouted reprimand.
For everyone except Rina—whose eyes flashed with an even darker interest—shame rose like heat. Nicole, who had been blazing with fury, faltered. Even Anby's frost cracked for a moment. Corin lowered her head too, suddenly quiet.
The suffocating hostility finally eased under Qianye's wordless protest.
Qianye exhaled softly, as if exhausted down to the bone, and opened his medical bag.
"Nicole, Anby—you just got here," he said, voice rough with fatigue as he handed over a couple vials. "Drink this first. Get your strength back."
Then he turned to Billy. "Billy, yours is still topical. Use this spray. Understood?"
He shook the bottle once for emphasis.
"Oh! Roger that, Doctor Qianye!" Billy replied with his usual high-energy cheer. He took the spray and immediately blasted it onto his arm.
"AAAAA—AAAAAAAGH!!! This feeling—this is brutal—it hurts, Boss Nicole!"
His tall mechanical body started hopping in place like a man being electrocuted.
"You idiot!" Nicole snapped, half furious, half panicked. She reflexively tried to smack his metal head—only to recoil, shaking her hand as pain shot up her palm. "Stop embarrassing us! And your head is way too hard—ow ow ow—huh?"
Her rant died in her throat.
Qianye had already walked over with an ointment jar, jade-green eyes resigned—but his hands gentle beyond belief as he lifted her reddened palm.
Nicole froze.
Qianye lowered his lashes, focused, careful—applying cool ointment like he was restoring a priceless artwork. Nicole's cheeks went scarlet. The complaints she'd been ready to throw at him evaporated into silence.
The cold ointment soothed her skin—yet something else replaced the pain: a strange, tingling warmth that spread through her fingers.
Nicole kept her head down, but the corners of her mouth lifted anyway.
Then—unable to resist—she shot a smug, triumphant glance at Victoria Housekeeping, as if flaunting her "exclusive privilege."
But the reaction she expected never came.
Rina, Corin—even Lycaon—had gone strangely quiet.
Rina's smile had vanished, replaced by something almost… compassionate. She tilted her head, looking at Nicole the way one might look at a naïve child.
Corin stopped fiddling with her buzzsaw, violet eyes full of confusion—and, somehow, sympathy.
Lycaon simply shook his head lightly, a trace of understanding and helplessness in his red eyes.
To them, Nicole seemed… almost pitiable—so easily satisfied by something as simple as brief, gentle contact, and then treating it as a victory worth showing off.
And as for Lycaon… he couldn't predict who Qianye would ultimately choose.
But in his mind, Miss Nicole's odds had just plummeted to nearly zero.
"All right. Done."
Qianye's voice broke the odd silence. He withdrew his hand and turned to Koleda and Belle.
"Koleda. Belle. Let's move."
"Hmph!" Koleda snapped out of the earlier atmosphere at once—remembering she was still angry. She crossed her arms, chin high. "Don't forget you owe me seven compensations—no, eight!"
She raised the price on the spot.
"Huh?!" Qianye looked up, stunned. "But I only called in seven people!"
He meant the number of reinforcements.
"No—no lip stuff!" Koleda stamped her foot, cheeks blazing as she tried to act fierce. "I said eight, so it's eight!"
"…Sigh. Fine."
Qianye stared at the unmistakable I'm-not-moving-until-you-agree look on her face. His shoulders sagged completely, like a cabbage wilted by frost.
"Let's go. Everyone, ride Belobog Heavy Industries' machinery—we'll move faster. Maybe we'll even make it back in time to eat."
The last part came out as a faint, desperate hope.
"Big bro Anton! Sit on me! Real men should bond through passionate contact!"
"Mm. Even though Mashiro has passed on… I still don't intend to let other men touch me for now. Girls are fine, though."
"I do not mind. We need only reach the prototype's location as quickly as possible."
After working out the assignments, everyone climbed aboard.
Koleda looked at Qianye—so drained he seemed hollowed out—and a flicker of guilt rose in her chest. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
But then her gaze landed on the faint red mark at his neck—like someone's hair had rubbed him raw—and the wrinkles in his coat from being held so tightly.
That brief softness froze solid.
She tightened her grip on her power hammer, looked away, and muttered under her breath—quiet enough that only she could hear it:
"Hmph… honestly… Qianye really doesn't understand people…"
The words carried a sour edge she didn't even realize was there.
"Don't rush, little one."
Grace stepped up beside her and leaned in, speaking softly near her ear.
"There's plenty of time. Let's put our internal fighting on hold. First we find the prototype… then we work together to deal with the outsiders. How about it?"
"…Fine," Koleda said reluctantly, then corrected herself with a stiff awkwardness. "G-Grace… big sis. I agree."
Grace nodded, then looked at Eous—perched against Qianye's shoulder.
"Proxy. Lead the way."
"No problem!" came the brisk reply. "All units—advance to the prototype!!!"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter108)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter144)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 99
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 95
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 99
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 92
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 47
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 44
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 43
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 26
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 32
Uma Musume: From Beginner 26
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin