City of Glen, Western District, Queen Street, in front of Viscount Delqun’s Mansion, a luxurious and exquisite carriage slowly came to a halt.
Roxy Morton was helped down from the carriage by a maid, her misty blue eyes, like scattered stars, drooping with heavy eyelids, giving her a somewhat absent-minded appearance.
Throughout the journey, Roxy had been pondering over the solution Harvey Michelson had proposed, weighing the pros and cons.
Without a doubt, her primary goal had never changed—it was to return home, her true home.
One was longing; the other, worry.
Before she left, the strange scene in the classroom was still vivid in her mind.
Heaven only knew what that eyeless woman wearing the ‘Morton’ face might do next.
Would the evil god descend to destroy everything, or would ‘she’ treat Earth as a breeding ground, spreading the ‘plague’ from the classroom to the entire world?
Either outcome was chilling.
Thinking of her parents and friends, Roxy’s heart grew heavier.
She also knew time would wait for no one.
Even if she succeeded, the final outcome might not be a happy one.
But, she had to go back and take a look.
Good or bad, fallen leaves return to their roots.
Thus, the words Harvey Michelson had spoken became three different paths.
First, sign a confidentiality agreement and stay away from official organizations.
Roxy was now the noble daughter of a viscount, with a very high social status and abundant future resources. With this identity, becoming a Sealed One should be quite easy.
The advantage of this path was secrecy—free from official scrutiny, with enough freedom to advance without fear of being ‘held back’.
The downside was obvious too. Her best friend, Hannah Carter, was a cautionary tale—one wrong step, led astray by the evil god’s temptation into corruption, and what awaited her was nothing but purifying flames.
Without a mentor to guide her, stumbling blindly was almost inevitable.
Second, take a position offered by the Church, but not become a Sealed One; instead, serve as a clerical staff member.
This was an option Roxy had only just begun to consider. She could start as an outsider to the Sealed Ones circle, using her viscount daughter status to access resources and enjoy the Church’s ‘conveniences’, gathering enough knowledge and information to find a chance to escape and steadily embark on the path of the extraordinary.
Its advantages and disadvantages were also clear—just a matter of time and risk.
The third path was to become a frontline operative like Mr. Michelson and Miss Lam, which was the path Roxy least favored.
With seniors leading the way, it was easier to become a Sealed One quickly, and the future looked bright.
But in reality, it came with many troubles. First, her identity—eldest daughter of a viscount. To join an organization where life was constantly at risk and whose specific work had to be kept secret was unthinkable. Whether for the safety of the children or the noble family’s reputation, this dangerous and undignified job would never get her family’s support; they would likely try to stop her.
Besides, official Sealed Ones faced many restrictions. As a newcomer, lower-level resources were fine, but at middle and upper levels, resource allocation depended on seniority, connections, and time of entry—a headache just to think about.
Also, this was like being a supernatural police officer, constantly facing cultists of evil gods—a high-risk profession that did not align with Roxy’s ideals.
Better to choose one of the first two paths. Quietly amassing wealth was the way to go.
With her decision made, Roxy felt a bit lighter.
As soon as she entered, Leah ran over in little steps, grabbing onto her leg.
“Big Sister!”
“Meow~”
Miko also fiercely let out a kitten-like roar.
Ah, why couldn’t it be Big Brother instead?
Roxy felt a small pang of regret, then raised her hand to gently stroke Leah’s hair.
Before she could say anything, the little girl suddenly let go and took a step back, pouting and smoothing her hair, looking aggrieved.
“Big Sister messed up Leah’s hair.”
Roxy, “……”
First time being an older sister, not very experienced—sorry.
After the two finished their exchange, the maid behind Leah stepped forward and nodded slightly.
“Miss, Viscount and Young Master have already returned and are in the study on the third floor. They instructed me to inform you once you were back.”
Having successfully passed the ‘Mother’ and ‘Little Sister’ side quests, Roxy’s mindset had relaxed considerably. She nodded to show she understood.
“Leah, Big Sister has to go talk with Father in the study first. You play alone for a bit, okay?”
Leah still seemed a little afraid of Viscount Morton. Hearing this, she didn’t cling to Roxy to go along like last time. The little girl obediently nodded, “Then Leah and Miko will wait in Big Sister’s room.”
With that, she bounced off cheerfully.
Such carefree energy. Seeing Leah so lively lifted Roxy’s spirits too—emotions really were contagious.
After saying goodbye to Leah, Roxy was led by the maid to the study on the third floor.
She tugged at the hem of her knit sweater, then raised her hand to knock gently twice on the door.
“Father, it’s me, Roxy.”
After a brief pause, a slightly hoarse male voice replied.
“The door isn’t locked. Come in.”
Click—
Roxy pushed open the door and entered the study.
The last rays of sunset filtered through the translucent paper on the arched window, casting mottled light patterns on the floor.
The man sitting in the center of the room looked up. His somewhat gaunt face came into view, his pale golden hair impeccably groomed, and his light blue eyes always hiding a trace of indifference. His tightly pressed lips gave him a stern appearance—just as ‘Morton’ was remembered.
This was her current father, Viscount Delqun, Ted Morton.
“Father.”
“Brother.”
Roxy greeted the two men in the room, one after the other.
The ‘Morton’ eldest brother, Dean Morton, was four years older than her. He had already stepped into the political arena and held a place among the rising nobles of the South Kingdom.
He inherited his mother’s hair color, like Roxy, and his personality was not as stern as Viscount Morton’s. Seeing his long-lost sister return, a genuine smile spread across his face as he said,
“Roxy.”
Viscount Morton’s arm was still raised halfway, the sunset igniting the tip of the cigar in his fingers, leaving behind gray ash and smoke curling beside him.
He glanced at his daughter with a faint expression, saying nothing, then pressed out the cigar in the ashtray beside him, extinguishing it.
“We’ll discuss the shipyard matter later.”
“Yes, Father.”
Dean nodded in acknowledgment.
Viscount Morton shifted his gaze from his son to his eldest daughter.
His tone remained flat, like a superior inquiring about work from a subordinate.
“How did the Church respond?”