Watching Letia cupping her cheeks, acting all shy and coy, Red couldn’t shake off a strange feeling that something was just… off.
It was like seeing your best bro in a bikini, doing a sultry dance right in front of you.
And then he even claimed he had “thoughts”?
If you could escape with your eyesight intact, you should be thanking the heavens.
Though, to be fair, Red wasn’t even sure if his relationship with Letia could be called brotherly in the first place.
“So, what were you two talking about just now?”
In the blink of an eye, Letia returned to normal.
“If you’ve found something fun, share it with me so I can have a good laugh too!”
At this moment, Tos finally understood what Red had once said to him.
No matter how pretty Letia was, she was truly hard to have “thoughts” about.
Unless she kept her mouth shut.
“Since we’re on the topic, what about you?”
Red had already exposed himself; of course, the others wouldn’t let the instigator off so easily.
“Well…”
Letia pondered, her gaze sweeping back and forth over Red for a long while.
At last, her eyes stopped at a place they really shouldn’t, a mischievous grin on her face.
“I like them 15cm.”
“Pffft!!!”
You know what, that’s just like Letia.
High offense, high defense, and absolutely shameless.
The way she strips off those white stockings and chases people… aaahhhhh!!
This line left both Liz and Tos next to her frozen in shock.
Any wild thoughts they had vanished without a trace, replaced by a single pressing question in their minds.
How did she know?
Red wiped his mouth and forced himself to calm down.
He couldn’t get caught up in this priest’s rhythm; those who toy with holy light always have the dirtiest hearts.
At this point, Red would rather have a staring contest with Liz than exchange even a few more words with Letia.
If he kept going, he feared he wouldn’t last through the night with his innocence intact.
“Liz, there’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”
“When I was on the 23rd floor, after I broke free from that hopeless situation and made it back to you all,”
“What were you really thinking when you saw me?”
Back on the 23rd floor, Jessica’s spell bombardment brought in a beast tide far beyond expectations—none of them had foreseen the sheer numbers.
The beast tide scattered the party.
Red was forced down another path, and to cover his teammates’ retreat, he did all he could to lure most of the monsters toward himself.
But that left him in an unprecedented crisis.
Luckily, he managed to escape the beast tide.
Yet when he returned to the team, the first thing he met wasn’t concern, but cold eyes and blame.
That bitter feeling of disappointment—Red knew he’d never forget it, not even in death.
Now, at last, he had the chance to ask Liz this question face to face.
Letia wasn’t worth asking.
She was too carefree and thick-skinned; asking her would be pointless.
But Liz… after all, they’d grown up together.
In that situation, what was she really thinking when she blamed him?
Or did she really just believe he wasn’t strong enough for Frontline?
If so, that would be too sad.
Faced with Red’s question, Liz clenched her fists, eyes full of inner struggle.
She didn’t want to admit, in front of Red, that it had been her own mistake.
If… when they dealt with that Eye of Crimson, Red had managed to hold the aggro.
Then maybe Jessica wouldn’t have been forced to use such a powerful spell, right?
If Red weren’t a Creation Mage, but a proper Frontline, then…
Liz’s fist was clenched so tight her nails almost drew blood.
“I, at the time…”
“Liz, you’ve had a bit too much to drink, haven’t you?”
Letia cut her off, grabbing her hand.
“I’ll walk her back first, so I won’t disturb you any longer.”
“…Alright.”
Watching Letia lead Liz away, Red lifted his cup to take a swig of beer, only to realize it was empty.
Even though Liz hadn’t said a word, he already had his answer in his heart.
Meanwhile, since Red was still at the Riverside Tavern drinking, Litt had already made her way home.
She hadn’t eaten much at the tavern, and it was getting late, so she started preparing dinner.
She didn’t need to worry about Liz for now.
She’d already done all she could—whether it was what she should or shouldn’t have done—to help her.
If that still wasn’t enough to change anything, then there was truly nothing else she could do.
According to the script, her fate still ended the same way—a constant source of headache.
Just how could she escape her destined death?
“Ding-dong~”
Just as Litt was lost in thought, the doorbell rang.
Normally, this wouldn’t be the time for Red to come home yet, so it must be someone else…
Nine times out of ten, it would be Otto.
Litt set down her kitchen knife and walked to the entryway, opening the door.
“Yo? Good evening, Sister Litt.”
Sure enough, the one standing there, with that punchable face, was Otto.
Staring at the bishop’s insincere smile, Litt let out a sigh and calmly pulled a communication crystal from the side pocket of her nun’s robe.
“Hello, police? There’s a suspicious person at my door.”
“I’m still your bishop, you know.”
Otto’s smile was as standard—and fake—as ever, his voice dripping with false friendliness.
“So, what do you want with me? If you’re just passing by,” Litt gave him a dead-fish stare, eyeing the blond bishop before her, “then would you be so kind as to take this bag of trash out for me?”
Litt handed over an empty burlap sack.
There was no mistaking the meaning behind her words.
“……”
Yet, even so, Otto didn’t seem the least bit annoyed.
He didn’t even look at the sack, as if it were nothing more than air.
“By the way, about the ‘White Sun Dawnbreak Festival’ at the start of next month—Sister Litt, do you plan to participate?”
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