Bang!
Huayin dragged Ange into her own room, which was noticeably cleaner and more luxurious, with near-violent force.
She slammed the door shut, quickly engaged the lock with a sharp *click*, and then strode to the window.
She pulled the curtains tight, completely blocking out the light from the outside world.
After finishing this, she leaned her back against the door, panting slightly.
She looked at Ange, who had collapsed onto the soft, large bed, curled into a ball and trembling uncontrollably, and complained irritably.
“Tch! This is such a pain! I’m warning you, I’m not doing this for your sake! I just don’t want my Teacher to be some pervert who loses control in front of her students, causing my reputation to be ruined and having people whispering behind my back! Do you understand?!”
Her tone remained sharp, laced with its usual bitterness, as if she could use it to draw a clear line and cover up her momentary panic and — other, more complex emotions.
On the bed, Ange’s condition was clearly worsening.
Her long silver hair was spread messily across Huayin’s expensive silk sheets, and her body shuddered violently.
Her cheeks, which had previously been a soft peach, were now flushed a deep crimson.
Fine beads of sweat continually seeped out, gluing the strands of hair on her forehead to her skin.
She bit her lower lip hard, trying to suppress the shameful sounds threatening to spill from her throat.
Her violet eyes had completely lost focus, clouded by a thick mist, and faint heart-shaped outlines flickered at the edges of her pupils.
She radiated a sinister, bewitching beauty that was on the verge of collapse, an allure that tempted one toward depravity.
Looking at Ange in this state, Huayin’s previous thoughts of watching the drama, teasing her, or even taking a bit of vengeful pleasure slowly dissipated.
An unfamiliar, sour emotion quietly sprouted from the depths of her heart.
‘She… looks so pitiful…’
The thought popped up uncontrollably.
Before this, because she was the “victim” and the one violated by Ange’s Rampant Magic Mark, Huayin had always been filled with anger and resentment.
She had never truly put herself in Ange’s shoes.
She only saw that the effects of the Magic Mark were suggestive, lewd, and contemptible, while deliberately ignoring its true nature: a vicious curse that tortured Ange every single moment.
Having known Ange for nearly one week, Huayin knew very well what kind of staggering pride was hidden deep within this silver-haired woman who appeared decadent, lazy, and stingy to the extreme.
It was the pride of the First Demon Hunter, the pride of a man who once stood tall between heaven and earth, and the pride of a human being with basic dignity.
Because of this, when the Magic Mark flared up, she would rather hide in a cramped, stuffy restroom to handle it herself, and would rather hold out until she almost lost control than easily surrender to desire — and she certainly didn’t want to expose this unsightly state to others.
‘Perhaps… she’s struggling harder than I thought…’
Thinking of this, Huayin felt a little ridiculous.
Even if Ange was pitiful, so what? Wasn’t she a victim too?
She had lost her first time for no reason, was now tied to this person who was nothing but trouble, and even faced the absurd prospect of a marriage by pregnancy…
She was the one who had the most right to complain!
She shook her head, trying to dispel this ill-timed sympathy.
Now that a private space had been provided, this idiot should be able to solve the problem herself, right?
She turned around, intending to stay out of it.
However, just as she was about to ignore the distracting panting and whimpering behind her, Ange’s voice, suppressed to the limit, came through in broken fragments.
“The gun… the White Gun… I need… the… Holy Sigil on it…”
Huayin paused and turned back in astonishment. “What?”
Ange struggled to raise her arm, pointing toward the door with vacant yet determined eyes.
“My… gun… the white one… it has… a Holy Sigil carved… to suppress the Magic Mark… get it… quickly…”
Huayin understood instantly. Ange needed her specially modified White Gun, which was engraved with holy runes, to help suppress the Rampaging Magic Mark. But…
‘Are you kidding me?!’ Huayin screamed internally.
‘How am I supposed to help you get the gun?! Am I supposed to walk up to Ingrid and Sakika and say you’re about to lose control and need a gun to cool down?!’
Just imagining the scene made Huayin feel suffocated. How could she possibly explain running back to Ange’s room to grab a weapon?
“Agh! Seriously! This is so annoying!”
Huayin frustratedly grabbed at her fiery red hair, feeling like her head was twice its usual size.
She looked at Ange’s pained expression on the bed — looking as if she were about to be swallowed by desire — and remembered the hot, damp sensation on her fingertips from moments ago…
“Tch!”
Ultimately, she stomped her foot hard and turned around as if resigning herself to fate, opening the door once more.
“Wait here!”
Leaving those two words behind, she took a deep breath and smoothed out her facial expression, trying to look as normal as possible.
Then, with a seemingly calm pace, she walked back to Ange’s room.
In the room, Ingrid was cleaning up the pizza boxes, while Sakika had finished washing her hair.
Her jet-black hair hung wet over her shoulders as she quietly wiped it with a towel.
Huayin kept her eyes straight ahead and walked directly to the corner of the room, where Ange’s iconic weapon storage case sat.
She opened the case, ignored the strangely shaped Gunblade, and directly picked up the sleek, silver-white White Gun along with its matching holster, which was also engraved with fine patterns.
Looking at them closely now, she realized that neither of these guns was ordinary.
The White Gun was engraved with a Holy Stigma, while the Black Gun emitted a faint demonic aura.
“Huayin?” Ingrid was the first to notice her actions, her eyes widening in surprise. “What… what are you doing with Teacher’s gun?”
Sakika also stopped drying her hair. Her pitch-black eyes turned calmly toward Huayin.
Although she didn’t speak, her gaze held a clear question.
Huayin’s movements stiffened, and she clicked her tongue internally. Damn it! She knew this would happen!
How was she supposed to explain? Say that Ange needed it to “guard the house”?
In her desperation, she threw the blame entirely onto the absent Ange, using a slightly impatient tone that suggested she didn’t know the details.
“That idiot Ange told me to get it for her! How should I know why she suddenly wants a gun? Maybe… maybe she wants to teach me about gun maintenance!”
Even she didn’t believe such a clumsy excuse.
After speaking, she didn’t dare look at Ingrid’s doubt-filled face or Sakika’s gaze that seemed to see through everything.
Clutching the cold White Gun, she practically fled the room.
The door closed behind her.
Inside the room, Ingrid tilted her head, her small face full of confusion.
“A lesson on gun maintenance… should I go listen too?”
Sakika, on the other hand, slowly lowered her towel.
Her deep black eyes looked toward the closed door.
The faint doubt in her eyes grew thicker and more meaningful.
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