Logan's expression remained as casual as ever, as though nothing about his words carried any weight of deception, as he continued in the same steady tone:
"Indeed. In order to restore your origin ability and connection to the origin path, we need to ensure that the flow of energy all over your body is restored completely."
Even as he spoke, calm and measured, Logan found himself faintly impressed. Not a flicker of hesitation, not the slightest crack in delivery. The lie flowed too naturally, too cleanly.
Meanwhile, Evelyn bit her lip, her gaze drifting off to the side before lowering completely, her lashes casting faint shadows across her face as she sank into thought.
'I… can't possibly let him touch me. I am a… married woman.'
The thought of her dead husband surfaced unbidden, sharp and cruel, sending a dull, throbbing ache through her chest that refused to fade.
Her lips pressed together again, tighter this time, as if she could suppress both the memory and the rising conflict within her.
"Is there no other way to restore my origin ability?" she finally asked, her voice quieter now, after a stretch of silence that seemed to linger too long between them.
Logan paused, just for a fraction of a second, as though weighing something internally, before he slowly shook his head.
"No, there's no other way."
A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at his lips, as though even he found the situation… unfortunate.
"I…" Evelyn's voice faltered, caught between resistance and desperation.
She wanted her strength back. No… she needed it.
Revenge.
That single thought burned hotter than her hesitation, hotter than her shame.
No matter the cost.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her short dress, clutching it instinctively where it hugged her thighs, the soft material wrinkling under the pressure of her grip, revealing just a sliver more of her pale inner skin.
"Alright."
She nodded.
Logan was briefly caught off guard, though it didn't show beyond a subtle shift in his gaze. His composed expression remained intact, unwavering.
'I thought she'd stall longer…'
'Astra?' he called inwardly.
[Yes, master.]
The response came instantly, smooth and obedient.
'Do you have any random oil that can mimic the effects of healing her without actually doing anything?'
[Yes, master. That will be 10 System Points.]
A faint wince passed through him before he accepted it. The cost stung slightly, but the return… would be worth it.
The system interface flickered briefly in his vision, a soft glow passing across his sight before a new line appeared.
[Master, the potion has been stored in the System Space. Do you wish to retrieve it?]
"Yes," he nodded lightly.
The silence that followed stretched just enough to make Evelyn's tension grow, her body stiffening almost imperceptibly as uncertainty crept back in.
Then—
A faint glimmer.
Her eyes widened slightly as something appeared in his hand out of nowhere.
A small bottle, delicate, filled with a shimmering liquid that seemed to catch the light unnaturally.
Her gaze lingered on it, curiosity slowly overtaking hesitation as she looked back at him, silently asking.
Logan smiled.
"This is called the Heaven's Origin Nectar," he explained smoothly. "It's said to be capable of curing every injury in the world."
The lie rolled off his tongue so naturally that even he almost believed it.
'Being an author really does make lying easier…'
Evelyn's eyes widened slightly, her attention drawn completely to the liquid as it shimmered faintly within the bottle.
Her lips parted just a little before she pressed them together again, then looked back at him.
"And… you're going to rub that on me? All over my body?" she asked, her brows knitting faintly. "Why can't I do it myself?"
The hesitation was still there. Strong.
Expected.
Logan didn't miss a beat.
"It only works when combined with a special technique," he replied calmly, as though it were an obvious limitation.
Internally, though, the strain was beginning to build. Each lie needed to layer perfectly over the last. One misstep and everything would unravel.
He could only hope she'd stop questioning before that happened.
Evelyn bit her lip again, that same nervous habit surfacing, her fingers shifting slightly against her dress.
Silence fell once more.
Thicker this time.
Then—
"…can you at least close your eyes?"
Logan paused.
His instinct was immediate refusal.
But just as quickly, he reconsidered.
He understood.
And slowly, he nodded.
Evelyn exhaled softly, relief washing through her as her expression cooled, hardening again as she forced herself into resolve.
Without another word, Logan closed his eyes.
The room grew quieter.
He could hear it now—the subtle shift of fabric, the faint whisper of cloth sliding against skin, the soft, almost hesitant movements as she began to undress.
The air itself seemed to change, carrying a faint warmth, a presence that hadn't been there before.
"I'm done," Evelyn said at last, her voice restrained, controlled.
"Alright," Logan replied evenly, his eyes still shut. "Lie on your back. I'll start there."
"Okay…"
There was a slight rustle as she moved, adjusting herself, the chair creaking faintly under the shift of her weight.
"Done."
"Okay… I'm starting now."
He opened the bottle, the faint scent of the liquid rising subtly as he poured a small amount into his palm.
Then, carefully, he lowered his hand.
Guided only by instinct and proximity, his fingers brushed against her leg.
Warm.
Smooth.
He moved slowly, deliberately, his hand gliding upward along her slender leg, the motion unhurried, controlled… until it reached her inner thigh.
Evelyn's legs instinctively pressed together, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
"It's alright… I'm just exploring your body…" Logan said softly, easing the tension just enough as he withdrew slightly.
The words lingered strangely in her ears.
Something about them felt… off.
And yet—
Her body was already reacting.
Heat crept upward, subtle but undeniable.
'I'm doing this for revenge…'
She clung to that thought, biting her lip hard enough to pale the color, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to endure the unfamiliar sensation of another man's touch.
Never, in any version of her imagination, had she expected this.
Days.
It had only been days since her husband's death.
And now—
Not even a man.
A youth.
Someone young enough to be her son.
Her chest tightened at the thought.
This wasn't… wrong.
It couldn't be.
He was helping her.
Trying to.
Yet the warmth spreading through her body betrayed her reasoning.
Logan's hand shifted again, tracing along the curve of her thigh before moving higher, brushing against the soft fullness beneath.
He restrained himself.
Barely.
His touch remained light, controlled, skimming rather than gripping.
Still, even that fleeting contact sent a subtle reaction through her body.
Soft.
Warm.
Responsive.
His hand continued upward, moving along her back now, tracing the gentle curve of her waist, the dip and rise of her form, his fingers spreading the oil in slow, measured motions.
The room felt smaller.
Quieter.
Every sound sharper.
"Mnn—"
Evelyn's eyes snapped open, her breath catching as the soft sound slipped from her lips before she could stop it.
'What is wrong with me…?'
Her heartbeat quickened, uneven now, her body betraying her again.
Logan said nothing.
He simply continued.
But inside—
The restraint was slipping.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
After a while, the pressure became too much.
The warmth beneath his hands, the subtle reactions, the image forming in his mind…
He exhaled deeply.
And then—
His eyes opened.
What greeted him in that moment—
Was the most beautiful body he had ever seen.