“She… she’s all right now, isn’t she?” Fan Zhuo looked over at Milina on the bed, lowering his voice.
“According to Baitu’s database analysis, Miss Milina’s energy circulation has stabilized, and her core temperature has returned to normal.”
Baitu walked over to the bedside, crouched down, and her bright blue electronic eyes carefully scanned the sleeping face of the Succubus girl, who was still smiling with a bit of satisfied drool at the corner of her mouth.
“It’s estimated that in another eight to twelve hours, she’ll regain consciousness and be able to move around.”
Fan Zhuo let out a long breath of relief.
As long as she recovered, it meant his “treatment” was a complete success. Not only had he saved a vibrant life, but he’d also… improved himself in the process.
So sacred, truly sacred.
“But…” Baitu’s tone changed as she looked at Fan Zhuo, who was still kneeling on the carpet, a hint of confusion in her eyes.
“Lord Fan Zhuo, we’re facing a new… logistical issue.”
“Logistical issue?”
“Yes.”
Baitu nodded. She glanced at Milina, who was sprawled out on the bed, then at the not-so-spacious single room.
“This room is simply too small to accommodate three ‘residents.’ Furthermore, due to Miss Milina’s racial characteristics, she might interfere with your daily ‘cultivation.'”
Baitu had put it very tactfully, but Fan Zhuo understood immediately.
What she meant was, he needed to intentionally keep some distance from Milina.
After all, letting a Succubus stay in his room even for a short time—this was more than just an ‘interference’…
It was like lighting an everlasting candle in an ammo depot that could explode at any moment! Although… this “fire” did seem to have more benefits for him.
But if this continued, he really might meet an early grave, sucked dry by her.
And, he truly did need to apply for a bigger room.
There was something else he still hadn’t had the chance to tell Old John…
At this thought, Fan Zhuo couldn’t help but picture the pure, dependent gaze of the Slime Queen, Alfea, in his mind.
He had promised that he would visit her often.
He had also promised to improve her living environment.
That dark, damp, and freezing cell was completely unworthy of such a gentle and pure girl.
Just thinking of Alfea made Fan Zhuo’s heart ache.
On his side, he was surrounded by fox demons and Succubi, enjoying pleasures that were enough to make him ascend on the spot, while she was still in that environment, all alone, waiting for him…
No, he had to do something.
“I understand.” Fan Zhuo stood up, the feeling of being utterly drained seemed to vanish all at once. “It’s time… to improve our living conditions.”
He needed a larger room, one that could house both himself and Baitu, and, in emergencies, even hide Milina.
He also needed to apply for a better cell for Alfea.
A dry, warm cell—one that would, hopefully, get some sunlight.
“Baitu, go ahead and prepare dinner. I’m starving.” Fan Zhuo rubbed his empty belly.
Right now, he felt like he could eat a whole roasted dragon.
“Yes, Lord Fan Zhuo.”
A genuine smile appeared on Baitu’s face. Being able to prepare food for Fan Zhuo seemed to bring her more satisfaction than carrying out any command.
She turned and headed for the little washstand in the corner of the room. With elegant movements, she rolled up the sleeves of her maid outfit and washed her hands thoroughly with soap.
After all, just now…
When she finished washing, she dried each finger meticulously with a clean towel before leaving the room to head to the prison’s communal kitchen.
Watching her graceful silhouette disappear, Fan Zhuo felt a warm current in his heart.
Having such a thoughtful, capable maid at his side—one who could handle all household chores, look after him, and provide “energy replenishment” whenever and wherever he needed—it really did seem… like quite a wonderful thing.
Baitu was truly amazing.
Dinner was far more sumptuous than Fan Zhuo had imagined.
Considering his “huge consumption” today, Baitu had specially requested a double portion of the chef’s secret sauce roast and a creamy thick soup from the kitchen.
Fan Zhuo was absolutely famished. He practically inhaled all the food, even wiping up every last drop of meat sauce from his plate with soft bread.
Baitu knelt quietly by his side, watching him eat, a contented smile on her lovely face.
She would occasionally hand him a napkin or pour him a perfectly warm cup of water.
The whole scene was so cozy, it hardly felt like they were in a prison housing countless monsters—more like a newlywed couple savoring their own tranquil, sweet time together.
“Lord Fan Zhuo used up a lot of strength and energy today.”
Baitu cupped her face, gazing at the empty plate. “From now on, Baitu will make sure to prepare a hearty meal for you every day, to restore your strength.”
“If my lord needs anything else… you can come to Baitu anytime~”
“Thank you, Baitu. You’ve worked hard.” Fan Zhuo, thoroughly satisfied, thanked her sincerely.
“It’s Baitu’s honor.”
Full and rested, Fan Zhuo decided to go find Old John right away.
Applying for a new room was best done as soon as possible.
He walked out the door, heading toward the Warden’s Office.
He hadn’t even reached the door yet when a strong smell of malt fermentation and cheap alcohol wafted out from the crack under the door, making him almost sneeze.
Seriously? Lucien’s only been gone for a couple of days and you’re drinking again?
Fan Zhuo frowned and knocked on the door.
Inside, Old John’s voice came through weakly, as if all the bones had been drawn out of him.
Fan Zhuo pushed the door open and walked in. He saw Old John slouched behind his desk, a half-empty bottle of liquor and a solitary glass sitting on the table.
Old John’s face was clouded with worry, his eyes glassy. He drank gloomily, not even bothering with the pipe that usually never left his hand.
“Old John? What’s going on with you…”
“Oh, it’s you, kid. I thought… I thought it was… hic…”
Old John lifted his bleary eyes. Seeing Fan Zhuo, he let out a heavy sigh and jerked his chin toward the chair opposite. “Sit down. I was just about to… sober up and come find you.”
“Looking for me?” Fan Zhuo sat down across from him. The smell of booze was even stronger up close.
“Yeah.”
Old John took another big swig, looking more miserable than ever. “It’s about those bastards from the Royal Magic Academy!”
Old John slammed the glass heavily onto the desk with a muffled bang, some liquor sloshing out and soaking a crumpled document.
“Every year those guys come here a few times, claiming they’re doing ‘Nonhuman Ecological Research’… but the truth is?”
Old John’s face was full of disdain and disgust. He hiccupped, “The truth is, they’re just coming out to this backwater place for a sense of superiority!”
“They’re… that troublesome?” Fan Zhuo pressed further.
He recalled that meaningful line from Warden Hecate.
It seemed that Hecate—the “towering” Warden herself—also disliked those Academy people, which was why she’d given him the authority to interfere with the Royal Magic Academy’s research…