Zilan sat in the chair across from Joey’s bed, slumped back like a lazy queen.
Joey finally lifted his head, the abnormal flush on his face finally fading.
“Ha… haaa…”
The young boy wiped his moist lips.
He no longer had the strength to bicker with Zilan; he only wanted to collapse onto the bed and rest.
Just as he was about to get up and leave…
Zilan did not give him the chance.
‘What does she think I am…’
Zilan grabbed Joey by the hair.
“When… did I tell you to stop?”
“Ungh! Let me go! You bastard!”
Joey began to struggle like a helpless little rabbit.
“Is it not enough that I’ve been trying to please you this much?”
“I didn’t say stop, so keep going.”
Zilan pushed Joey’s head down once more.
This feeling of violence…
It was truly wonderful.
Zilan could feel it.
The emotions she usually repressed while pursuing perfection could be completely unleashed upon this boy.
No matter how much she hit or scolded Joey, she just had to look into those eyes that glared back at him with such hatred.
It was as if the hypocritical masks she had seen today were all swept away.
she took all the frustration of her day and inflicted it upon the boy.
No marks remained on Joey’s body.
Even though Zilan had kicked him countless times with her bare feet, seeing those marks disappear actually made her a little sad.
‘Why can’t they stay on his body so I can admire them?’
Such sadness made Zilan treat Joey even more roughly.
It could be said that aside from the “main event,” Zilan had done everything to Joey.
Moreover, she vented in the most brutal and cruel way possible.
Finally, Zilan pinched Joey’s small face, forcing him to look her in the eyes.
“You pervert.”
Joey’s voice was weak, and his eyes were slightly red.
Zilan’s heart skipped a beat.
‘This little guy… even in this state, he still uses that damn little mouth to curse at me.’
Zilan stared at the boy’s lips.
Finally, she leaned in and kissed him.
Zilan had never felt anything like this before.
If she had to describe it…
This feeling…
This feeling…
It was just like that day when she had used the Statue of the Goddess to stab the Rich Man to death.
Her face had been covered in Blood, but she had walked out with a smile.
Joy.
It was a surge of joy.
She felt Joey struggling painfully in her arms.
She thought about how this little guy was being humiliated by her, yet could only put up a futile struggle.
She thought about how the more she humiliated Joey, the more the pain of losing her younger sister faded.
Those were all excuses.
The real reason was…
When Zilan faced Joey, she could cast aside her usual mask of gentleness.
She could use her most repressed, most evil methods to vent an entire day’s worth of dissatisfaction upon him!
‘I will humiliate him ruthlessly… until his curses turn into pleas for mercy!’
Zilan pinned Joey to the bed and tore his clothes open.
“Zilan! Zilan! You bastard! I’m going to kill you! I’ll definitely kill you!”
‘Why?’
‘Why can’t I use even a bit of Magic!’
‘If only… even one Fireball would work!’
‘I’d blow her to smithereens! To smithereens!’
The more the boy cursed, the more desperate his eyes became.
That scent of despair was like Blood to a shark.
It made Zilan even more excited, her treatment of Joey becoming even more violent.
However, as Zilan’s slender hands slowly moved toward the boy’s collarbone…
She felt it.
Joey’s Tattoo.
It was the Mark of the Holy Son.
This caused Zilan to shiver instantly.
She hurriedly pushed Joey away and sat up from the bed.
She had almost… she had almost actually done it to him.
Zilan sat on the sofa and let out a long breath.
She watched as a single tear of resentment fell from the corner of Joey’s eye.
Her heart itched.
Zilan never knew she could lose control over a man.
Simultaneously, Pope Dillen’s words echoed in her mind.
“The Saint Child is just a tool. Don’t invest too much emotion.”
‘I… haven’t invested any emotion.’
‘I’m just… using him to vent my anger.’
‘It’s all his fault.’
‘It’s all his own fault.’
Zilan pursed her lips, picked up her strapped high heels, and prepared to leave Joey’s room.
“Hey! Take your lunch box with you.”
Joey’s gaze was resentful as he pointed weakly at the meal sitting on the coffee table.
Zilan arched an eyebrow.
She remembered that this was the breakfast she had forgotten to take with her.
‘Did this little guy… keep that meal until now?’
“Thanks…”
Zilan picked up the meal.
Just as she was about to leave, she felt the weight of the container was wrong.
She pushed up her glasses and opened the box.
It was empty.
“You’re welcome. I finished it for you,” Joey said coldly as he looked at Zilan.
“I just wanted you to take your trash away.”
“Starve for all I care.”
The young boy gave Zilan one last glare, then stripped off his torn clothes right in front of her and walked into the bathroom.
Expressionless, Zilan left Joey’s room carrying the empty lunch box.
At 11:30 PM, Zilan was still organizing things at the desk in her room.
She rubbed her aching eyes and caught sight of the empty meal box in the trash can.
Zilan suddenly remembered Joey’s resentful little expression.
The purple-haired beauty’s heart felt a sudden itch before she lowered her head to continue writing.
However, the corners of her mouth curled into a smile—the most genuine smile she had shown in a long time.
***
On the other side…
“Sister…”
Kail looked at the young boy with a delicate face standing before her.
His eyes were innocent as he handed her a wildflower.
“Sister, isn’t this flower beautiful?”
“It’s beautiful.”
Kail smiled and nodded.
“The flower you chose is truly beautiful.”
But when Kail looked down…
That wildflower had turned into a finger dripping with Blood.
“!!!”
Kail hurriedly looked up, only to see her own younger brother covered in bandages, lying on the bed on the verge of death.
“Sister, I… I helped a lot of people today.”
“Being the Saint Child isn’t actually as bad as you imagined.”
Her brother wore a determined smile as he spoke.
“The people from the Order of the Church will treat me soon. I will continue Preaching, making more people strong, and making the Entia Kingdom more prosperous… Sister… why are you crying?”
“Am I… not doing a good thing?”
A single tear fell from Kail’s face.
The finger in her hand gradually transformed into an Enchanted Longsword.
She raised the sword and pointed it at the Pope.
“I… I’ve had enough.”
“Give my brother back to me…”
The Pope did not panic.
Instead, she calmly sipped the black tea in her cup.
“General Kail, don’t be like this.”
“The Saint Child is just like you. The war is at a critical stalemate; General Kail, do not disturb the army’s morale.”
“I don’t care!”
Kail grit her teeth and glared at the Pope.
“I fight this war so my brother can have a better life! Not so I can donate him to you to be ruined!”
“Hand over my brother, or else—”
The Pope wore a faint smile and pushed her tea forward.
“The Saint Child?”
“The Saint Child is right in front of you.”
“What nonsense are you—”
Kail was about to use force against the Pope when she saw the contents of the cup.
Inside the tea…
A young boy’s finger was soaking.