That night, the stars were like eyes, as if the lingering light of stars that had fled from across the cosmos hundreds of thousands of years ago, illuminating the rooftop and the two young faces upon it.
Joen, who had just begun to be called “Old Master,” confided much in Liya—his humble beginnings, his ideal, his stumbling ambition: to make everyone in the world happy.
But he was uncomfortable with, didn’t understand, and couldn’t accept that title of “Old Master.”
He was terrified of a life lived standing above others.
Liya, however, understood Joen’s psychology quite clearly.
From her observation, Joen was untamed by the rules of hierarchy, possessing a kind of simple, wild purity untainted by worldly customs.
Money and “the Huang Silangs” of the world meant nothing to him, but the absence of “Huang Silangs” was very important to him.
And when “Huang Silang” became himself, he naturally fell into an existential crisis of nihilism, instinctively placing his own neck on the guillotine.
Liya didn’t know if Joen’s personality stemmed from his upbringing or from the special nature of the “Heroic Power.”
If it was the latter, then the Great Hero Sinmir, who had created this entire system for taming Heroes, truly earned Liya’s respect—just like facing that Monkey King who could sweep away a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers with his staff and couldn’t be refined to death even in the Purple Golden Furnace.
Use desire to draw out his evil and hatred, use a golden fillet to restrain his goodness and truth, and thus he is forced to fight with himself.
But a person can never truly kill themselves: if the former cannot kill the latter, he descends into utter madness; if the latter cannot kill the former, he can only lose himself in sainthood.
When the battered and bruised Monkey King had to journey to the Western Heaven to seek Buddhist teachings, to have the Dharma help him discern who was the true Sun Wukong and what was right and wrong, whatever the Buddha said, he became.
But was the Monkey King who achieved Buddhahood still the Monkey King?
So the old Heroes would always fade into the crowd, and new Heroes would always quietly be born.
Smacking her lips, Liya contentedly nestled between the Hero’s legs, squinting her eyes like a cat, enjoying her “master’s” petting, making cute “Mmm-hmm~” sounds.
She neither mocked and belittled nor worshipped and agreed with the Hero’s naive, sincere words.
She treated them like a few passionate lines from an opera, something to hum idly, forget, and not care about.
In the end, she and Joen were completely different kinds of people.
Joen was sentimental, easily empathizing with others, while she—ha, she was the most demonic existence.
What did the whole world have to do with her? Everything was pretty meaningless anyway.
She was unconventional, selfish, lonely, and romantic.
Her life motto was only eight words: do as you please, enjoy the present.
Joen loved humanity; she did not.
She didn’t love this entire world either.
That was her secret to living more happily and freely than Joen.
The night grew late.
Joen picked up Liya, who was humming and lost in some happy fantasy, and carried her back to the bedroom.
Thinking that “Lily” could sleep on a very soft bed soon, Joen felt a sudden flicker of happiness in his heart.
Passing by a slender, golden-haired maid who was cleaning, she smiled with curved eyes.
“Old Master~”
Joen instinctively corrected her.
“Don’t call me Old Master. I’m not used to it.”
“Understood, Old Master.”
The maid hesitated for a few seconds but still replied that way.
Because she didn’t know what form of address would be proper and would please Joen.
Joen hurriedly sped up to leave.
Then he passed by a petite, clever maid who was wiping a windowsill.
Hearing footsteps, she turned in surprise, saw Joen, and immediately blushed with nervousness.
“O-O-Old Master…” She quickly lowered her head.
Joen sighed and walked past silently.
Then he passed by a green-haired, long-eared Elf maid.
She turned her head, beaming with a smile.
“Old Master~”
Joen was about to quickly walk past when he suddenly froze, whipping his head around, his pupils shaking violently.
“No! What are you doing here? When did you sneak in?!”
Ailita, wearing a maid’s dress, had a mischievous grin on her face.
“This evening. I saw you and that Pupu were having a nice heart-to-heart, so I didn’t disturb you.”
She excitedly lifted the hem of her skirt, performing a twirling curtsy for Joen.
“Lord Joen~ Look, look~ Doesn’t it look quite presentable~?”
“What act are you putting on now?”
Joen was both amused and exasperated.
Ailita gave a wicked grin, like a child who’d pulled off a successful prank.
“I lied to them, saying I was a bed-warming maid bought by Old Master Joen, and I successfully blended in. They even made bets with me on how many minutes you’d last tonight.”
“No, you’re insane.”
Joen had no energy to retort properly.
“What a great doctor you are! Want a shot tonight~? Wow, I actually have one!”
Ailita’s eyes widened, her tone turning suggestive.
She tried to lean closer to Joen but was immediately stopped by a merciless hand, held at arm’s length.
“Go back to wherever you came from.”
Joen had a headache.
“It’s too late, Miss Elida. I don’t have time for your nonsense.”
With that, Joen simply hoisted Ailita over his shoulder like a sack, preparing to throw her out of the manor.
“Wow~ Don’t~ At least we’re comrades-in-arms~ Even if the deal’s off, friendship remains~ Wuwuwu~ Heartless Joen~ I have nowhere to stay tonight, and you’re so cruel as to force your beautiful young comrade to sleep on the streets! Scumbag! Irresponsible scumbag!”
Ailita switched between dramatic acting and fake crying, causing a ruckus all the way.
However, the moment Joen tossed Ailita out, he immediately saw her appearing openly in the front hall again, wearing a strange maid’s dress that was short enough to reach her upper thighs.
“My mistake~ As long as you don’t drive Elida away, Old Master~ If Elida has angered you, you can hit me~”
She lay on the table, raising her buttocks, tears welling in her eyes as she overacted.
Many maids were busy in the front hall.
Catching sight of this earth-shattering gossip, they instantly pricked up their ears, not wanting to miss a single word.
“Impossible.”
Joen, however, showed no pity for the fairer sex.
Or rather, in his eyes, this prank-loving Elf was neither “fair” nor “jade.”
“Damn it! I’ll be back!”
Ailita, grabbed by the back of her collar and lifted by Joen, waved her little pink fists all the way, puffing out her cheeks as she delivered the standard villain’s declaration.
The next second, she was tossed out of the manor’s main gate.
“Ouch~!”
Thud.
Joen closed the large door with one hand.
The troublesome Elf was finally shut out.
Ailita knelt on the ground.
Only after Joen left did she gradually regain her normal composure, gazing thoughtfully into the distance at the hazy buildings shrouded in mist.
“He actually rejected the Elf maid cohabitation play. This makes things difficult.”
Ailita’s curiosity about the “Pupu” by the Hero’s side was second only to her curiosity about the Hero himself.
First, she was curious about its taste—she’d already sampled it before, and it was excellent, fit for a state banquet.
Second, ever since her last conversation with Yuna about that Pupu, Ailita had harbored a strange suspicion.
And after seeing those strange creations, the “Pupu Car” and “Pu Boat,” the suspicion in her heart grew stronger, making her eager to verify it with that Pupu.
Besides that, she had a small personal desire—as a young rising star of the Elf race, there were many things she hadn’t experienced and wanted to try properly.
For example, she had never seen a fallen, enraged, corrupted, utterly “maddened” Hero.
She’d only read about them in history books.
What fun was reading?
Experiencing it firsthand was interesting.
She wanted to personally experience that power said to threaten the Elf Royal Court, to see if it was true.
She also wanted to personally observe the process of the Heroic Power’s corruption and distortion to complete her research.
As for what kind of destruction might occur during the process… that wasn’t within her consideration.
As one of the wisest and noblest races, the pinnacle of all living beings on this land, she wasn’t one of those bleeding-heart “human protectionists.”
She felt no need for self-reproach over such things.
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She wants to eat Pupu, she deserves to be in one of the succubus batteries.