Mille via pressed herself against the floor-to-ceiling window, her entire face melting into an expression of sheer obsession.
Her green pupils reflected the silver-haired girl sitting on the sofa inside the room.
The girl inside the window stared blankly at the sky outside, completely unaware that a face twisted with infatuation was pressed against the other side of the glass.
Qiansui’s breath fogged up a patch of the glass.
She trembled, tracing an unconscious circle on the fogged surface with her finger, then another circle, as if outlining the girl’s silhouette.
The ankles wrapped in white silk, that small sliver of pale, soft thigh between the hem of the nightgown and the top of the stockings, and that small face half-hidden behind silver-white strands of hair.
Every single detail made her brain secrete some unspeakable hormone at an abnormal rate.
Then she snapped back to reality.
No, she was here to carry out a mission.
She glanced down at the blurry ID photo on the intelligence file, then looked up at the room beyond the floor-to-ceiling window.
That’s right, this was the lair of that vampire noble viscount.
And at this very moment, a petite silver-haired girl was locked inside this lair, wearing a nightgown and white silk stockings.
Qiansui’s pupils contracted sharply.
Kidnapping.
Imprisonment.
That vampire really was up to this kind of thing.
She shoved the file back into her shirt pocket, clenching her fist as her knuckles let out sharp cracks.
A girl imprisoned by a vampire, countless images from horror movies and crime documentaries flooded her mind.
A poor little girl locked in a cage, treated as a vampire’s food reserve, having blood drained every single day, pale and frail, barely clinging to life.
And right now, that girl was right in front of her eyes.
“Don’t be afraid!”
Qiansui’s voice was muffled by the glass, but she shouted it out anyway, her eyes turning slightly red from an overdose of righteous fury and the thrill of being this close to a little girl.
“I’m getting you out right now!”
She backed up a step, gripping the window ledge with one hand for balance while clenching the other into a fist, demon hunter physical enhancement flooding into her arm in an instant.
Then she slammed her fist into the floor-to-ceiling window.
Tempered glass shattered the moment her knuckles made contact, countless fine cracks bursting outward from her fist as the center, and then the entire pane collapsed with a deafening crash.
Shards of glass fell like chips of ice in the morning light, striking the marble floor tiles with sharp, rapid clatters.
Qiansui leaped in through the broken gap of the floor-to-ceiling window, her ash-blonde hair flying wildly in the high-altitude wind, a few loose strands catching on the smile she hadn’t yet managed to put away.
Her green eyes swept across the living room in a quick scan.
Qiansui looked at the silver-haired girl, and then her mission was instantly deleted from her mind.
Whatever Kurose Hisaki, whatever vampire noble, whatever kidnapping victim, all of it was pushed off her cerebral cortex by those legs wrapped in white silk.
She saw those small feet stepping on the marble floor tiles beside the broken glass, the white silk toes slightly curling from nervousness, the way five little toes scrunched inside the stockings for a brief moment, throwing Qiansui’s breathing into chaos.
Rina stared at this woman who had appeared out of nowhere.
She punched through tempered glass with one fist, jumped in from the window of the 23rd floor, ash-blonde hair flying wildly against the backdrop of shattered glass, and her green pupils were scanning down Rina’s body with a gaze that was more direct, more unguarded, more sticky than any kidnapper’s.
This was it.
The kidnapper wasn’t home, and this woman was looking at her with a gaze even more perverted than the kidnapper’s when he first saw her under the bridge.
This wasn’t a home invasion, this was a home invasion for her body!
Rina stiffly pushed herself up from the sofa and took a step back.
Her back hit the sofa’s armrest. There was nowhere left to retreat.
But she absolutely could not lose in the presence of presence, she frantically pumped herself up inside.
Even if her appearance might not be intimidating, she had backing!
Even if that backing wasn’t home right now!
And wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning!
Qiansui completely failed to notice the girl slowly backing away from her in fear.
Her entire attention was focused on those small feet stepping on the marble floor tiles.
Then she started hallucinating.
What would it feel like to have those small feet stepping on her?
“So beautiful.”
Qiansui murmured those three words, her voice light and floaty, her green pupils completely unfocused.
Rina looked at that gaze glued to her feet, and that “so beautiful,” and made her verdict with absolute certainty.
She was a degenerate even more perverted than the kidnapper.
The kidnapper at least looked at her face, cared about her expressions and reactions.
But this woman, from the very first second she came in, started staring at her feet.
Rina recalled the solution to this kind of situation from the femme fatale novels she’d read.
The other party was a degenerate with a special fixation, zeroing in on a specific part of her body.
In this situation, she couldn’t show weakness, couldn’t show fear, she had to use the other’s desire to control them in return.
She took a deep breath, hid her still-trembling fingers behind her back, and lifted her head.
In those sky-blue eyes, fear was pushed down, replaced by something long absent, a femme fatale look she thought the kidnapper had already worn away.
Qiansui stepped forward.
Her hand reached out midair, fingers slightly parted, pointing directly at those small feet wrapped in white silk.
Rina watched that hand getting closer and closer, then spoke.
“Big sister.”
Her voice was sweet and soft, a stark contrast to her violently pounding heart.
Qiansui’s steps faltered.
“Are you looking at my feet?”
Qiansui’s answer was frantic nodding.
The speed was fast, the amplitude was wide, ash-blonde hair whipping through the air, a few strands smacking against her own face, and she didn’t care at all.
Her eyes sparkled with something close to reverence, as if she’d been asked the most important question in the world, and she was answering with every fiber of her body.
Yes, I’m looking, I’m looking, they’re so beautiful.
Rina watched that head bobbing up and down like crazy, and her disgust meter had officially exceeded its breaking point.
Disgusting, so disgusting, even more disgusting than the kidnapper.
Rina’s fingers pinched the hem of her pink-white nightgown.
She deliberately slowed down her movements, lifting the hem bit by bit, the sliver of thigh between the top of the white silk stockings and the nightgown hem gradually expanding, from a short glimpse into a full curve of pale, soft skin.
The skin not covered by stockings caught a faint sheen in the morning light, contrasting in texture with the calf wrapped in white silk below.
One was soft and warm, skin that would sweat. The other was smooth and slightly cool, white silk stockings gleaming with a pearlescent sheen.
Qiansui’s breathing completely fell apart in that moment.
“The last big sister liked looking too.”
Rina lifted her right leg, the white-silk-clad foot slowly rising above the broken glass, stopping less than ten centimeters from Qiansui’s face.
This pose forced her to lean back slightly against the sofa armrest for balance, one strap of her nightgown slipping off her shoulder.
“She wanted to touch too.”
Rina extended her toes another half centimeter forward, the tip of the white silk stocking almost brushing against Qiansui’s nose.
“Then my sister broke her hand.”
Rina obviously knew this wasn’t true. There was no “big sister,” and the kidnapper had never broken anyone’s hand.
But the other woman didn’t know that.
She just needed to make her believe that the price for touching her would be severe.
Qiansui froze.
Her ears automatically filtered out those words.
Her vision was filled with that small foot wrapped in white silk, just a few centimeters from the tip of her nose, close enough to smell the scent of the stockings.
Rina looked at those green eyes that had completely lost all rationality, and that hand still hovering midair with a slight tremor.
She kept her foot raised in midair, her sky-blue pupils looking down from above at this degenerate crouching in front of her.
A smile spread across her face.
It was that special, infuriatingly charming smirk reserved for when she faced a pervert who had completely fallen into her rhythm.
“Do you want to touch?”
Qiansui’s voice trembled with excitement as she answered.
“Is that okay?”