“Here!”
Lorin’s face was flushed red with fury as she hurled a stack of freshly processed documents at Phyllis.
The papers scattered through the air like a snowstorm.
She turned around in a huff, her bare feet stomping loudly against the floor—each step sharp and forceful, echoing with her indignation.
When she reached the door, she yanked it open and slammed it shut with a thunderous bang, the sound reverberating throughout the empty room.
Phyllis remained seated, her lips curved into a slight smile, her eyes alight with curiosity.
With leisurely grace, she reached out and gathered the scattered documents, carefully smoothing the creases with her fingers before beginning to examine them in earnest.
This wasn’t just any pile of paperwork—it was a “trap” she had meticulously prepared for Lorin.
…
“Heh.”
Lorin let out a cold laugh.
“Phyllis, Phyllis… you’re still too green.”
The moment she received the documents, she knew something was off.
It was all far too targeted, far too perfectly tailored to her situation.
“Who on earth—ah… ah-choo!”
A sudden chill ran through her, and she sneezed, inexplicably feeling like someone, somewhere, was thinking about her.
In the blink of an eye, Claire’s face popped into her mind. She shook her head quickly.
“No way… no way that’s possible!”
Lorin gave her head a small shake, trying to fling away the tangle of strange thoughts clouding her mind.
At last, with her thoughts somewhat clearer, she turned her attention to herself.
Sniffing the air, she wrinkled her nose in confusion as she tried to trace a familiar, unpleasant scent.
“Ew…”
A single syllable of disgust slipped from her lips, thick with both surprise and disdain.
She finally realized that her whole body reeked of Phyllis.
Lorin instinctively tugged at the hem of her shirt and brought it to her nose for another sniff.
No doubt about it—it was that scent.
Her brows furrowed as a shiver ran down her spine.
She felt like she’d been tainted by something unclean.
“She’s all over me… I feel gross,” she muttered under her breath.
“Ugh, I need a shower. Damn it! Those two sisters—neither of them are decent!”
And yet… why did this sense of unease keep growing in her chest?
Somewhere in a far-off realm, a silver-haired girl crushed her newly purchased Duck Pear-brand phone in her hand.
The surge of killing intent she emitted was enough to make the elderly man beside her click his tongue in alarm.
…
“Hmm?”
Phyllis frowned as she studied the documents Lorin had reviewed and marked up.
“This doesn’t make sense…”
She murmured to herself.
Her first suspicion was the infamous archmage of the Northern Continent, Christian Byrne—the very man she most wanted to meet.
Back then, Christian Byrne had only been a sixth-tier magician, studying how to harness racial-exclusive magic through blood.
He was the kind who loved to oppose her at every turn and spout bizarre philosophies in their arguments…
One day, on a whim, Phyllis had tried to trick him into drinking her blood.
She thought he was an amusing young man—why not toy with him?
But that little stunt only made him suspicious.
In the end, he uncovered the secret of “First Embrace” through a dream-based technique—an ancient vampiric rite she had hoped to keep hidden.
After that, he dedicated himself to researching ways to suppress blood magic.
He even avoided her entirely, refusing to let her feed from him, wary of any more of her “games.”
She’d paid dearly for that mistake—sacrificing some of her own clan-exclusive magic just to recover.
More importantly, the timing of Christian Byrne’s disappearance was suspiciously close to when Lorin was discovered by Lin Cheng.
She’d even confirmed that with Claire herself.
Phyllis’s lips trembled slightly as she whispered almost inaudibly, “Was it really you… Christian Byrne…?”
An expert in blood clans, skilled in alchemy, and always eager to discredit her…
On the Endless Continent, only one man fit that bill: the famed archmage from the North, Christian Byrne.
Excitement flickered in Phyllis’s eyes.
A sly smile curled her lips as she murmured, “If it really is you… this is going to be so much fun.”
But in the next moment, she shook her head. The light in her eyes sharpened.
“No—this isn’t some hypothetical,” she declared with conviction.
Her gaze hardened as if a brilliant light had suddenly pierced through a dense fog.
A flash of insight struck her—like grasping the core of a puzzle she hadn’t realized she was solving.
“A flawless façade… is the biggest flaw of all.”
Perfect on the surface, but that very perfection exposed the truth behind the mask.
Lorin’s behavior was too perfect, too calculated.
That alone revealed her true identity—Christian Byrne.
…
“Ah-choo!”
Lorin sneezed again as she stepped out of the shower.
That ominous feeling from before still lingered, and now it felt… even closer.
“Ugh, whatever… I should focus on getting the cube back first.”
The silver-haired vampire loli remained blissfully unaware of the danger drawing near, already scheming how to reclaim the stolen magical cube.
“Wait—yes!”
A lightbulb moment struck Lorin.
Phyllis had a favorite game she loved to play—and she always lost to Lorin in it…
Sure, it might be risky.
There was always the chance her true identity could be exposed.
But if she toned things down just a little… It should be fine.
…Right?