Pretend to Fall in Love with Me

"I will." Vichy smiled enchantingly, radiant and resplendent, revealing her little canines. Her cheeks held a hint of baby fat, and her lips glistened with the tender sheen of jelly. Yet her answer was resolute, without the slightest hesitation, carrying an imposing chill of sheer malice. Yaxiu could almost picture her laughing blithely while slaughtering countless living beings. Even so, he still could not comprehend it. "Why?" "Perhaps you thought that now that I'm with you all, I could rely on you, and that there'd be no need to kill and refine souls as I did in the past, sparing no resource in pursuit of power," Vichy said with a soft chuckle. "But I have never seen you as a force I can rely on. "Power is my sole source of security. Even if it's just a sliver more, it gives me one more measure of safety. I will only ever trust myself; no one is qualified to become someone I lean on. "What's more, I want to break free of these shackles every waking moment." Vichy tugged at the illusory collar around her neck. "A little more strength means a little more hope of breaking free... Yaxiu Heath, you didn't actually think I was genuinely content to be your devoted maid, did you!?" Yaxiu took a deep breath, yet he still could not suppress the anger in his voice. "Do you really enjoy making an enemy of the entire world that much?" "Because making an enemy of the world is how I've survived up to now," Vichy replied nonchalantly. "If I don't hurt others, I won't survive. "Yaxiu, even though the other girls and I are all bound to you by fate, there is one decisive difference between them and me." Vichy tilted her chin up, looking down on him with cold arrogance. "Your wishes are worthless to me! "If you think you can change my code of conduct with something as useless as sentiment, you're bound to be disappointed. "I am Vichy, the Spectre Prophet! I am destined to become a noble being standing above all creation. How could I ever change myself for the sake of your wishes!?" Looking at the proud, conceited Spectre Prophet before him, Yaxiu slowly lowered his head. He opened *Aurora's Sorcerer Handbook* — [Operator Management] — [Demon Maid]. Staring at the Bond Level 41 displayed within, he fell into a long silence, letting out a soft sigh. Vichy leaned against the nearby railing, gazing down at the spatial gate under construction below. After a moment, she turned toward her statue-still master beside her. "Do you want to take back the Dark Soul Wonder?" "No." As if a stone statue were speaking, Yaxiu's voice sounded somewhat raspy. "Even if I took away the Dark Soul Wonder, you still have Soul Reflection and Soul Shriek Sonic Wave... Even if I confiscated all your Wonders, you inherently possess the power to toy with souls." When Yaxiu raised his head, Vichy caught sight of a long-unseen wariness and estrangement in his eyes. It was as if everything had returned to the night before he stepped into Hell, as if he had reverted back to the supervisor who contemplated dragging prisoners down with him into the grave. Even if he had somehow put aside his revulsion toward Vichy for a time, he would ultimately pick that prejudice right back up. Because it wasn't prejudice. That was simply the kind of person Vichy was. Just as she had always been, never changing. She didn't know what kind of illusions Yaxiu harbored about her, but she had never once intended to fulfill them... How could the Spectre Prophet ever change for a man? "Keep those three Wonders," Yaxiu said. "I will keep a close eye on you... always, constantly watching you, until your life and mine reach their end." He watched Vichy with the same vigilance one would afford a demon, yet his words still betrayed a trace of misplaced tender regard. Vichy gave a light chuckle. "Understood." "Let's head back and inform Sword Princess and the others about what's here." "Wait." Vichy grabbed his wrist. "Now that we're done chatting about pointless feelings, we can talk business." Yaxiu raised an eyebrow. "What business?" "If you think sweet words alone can make me abandon my pursuit of power, that's pure wishful thinking, of course." Vichy gave him a sidelong glance. "However, if you're willing to offer a higher price, it's not impossible for me to spare those insignificant, lowly souls." "What do you want?" "I want to advance to Soul God-Leader," Vichy said. "Even if I can condense Hell Void Wings through you, the God-Leader realm remains indefinitely out of reach for me... The demigod realm is the ceiling of my natural talent. Even if you gave me thousands or tens of thousands of years, I could never elevate the soul faction to the God-Leader realm, let alone raise a Kingdom of Heaven. "I've always taken shortcuts by killing and refining souls. For instance, from mortal to demigod, I relied on killing to nurture my soul, forcing my way through the advancement ritual purely on soul foundation. As long as I can expand my soul to the God-Leader level, I can naturally repeat that trick, breaking through my natural limits to become a Soul God-Leader." Yaxiu's expression darkened slightly. "Do you want to sever a piece of my Soul Kingdom of Heaven?" The only thing he had that was worthy of Vichy's covetous gaze was his Soul Kingdom of Heaven. Everyone agreed that as long as Yaxiu discovered the method to advance to God-Leader, he was guaranteed to advance directly without any bottlenecks whatsoever. "I don't have a technique to absorb someone else's Kingdom of Heaven; otherwise, my Temple of Sorcery in my past life wouldn't have remained stuck at the upper tier," Vichy said. "But it is indeed related to your Soul Kingdom of Heaven... Did you know that souls undergo metabolism as well?" Yaxiu paused, thought for a moment, and said, "I had a vague impression of that... I've felt my soul developing continuously, so there should naturally be a metabolic process." "A soul is just like a physical body: it constantly metabolizes and sheds its old self," Vichy explained. "For ordinary people, the byproducts of soul metabolism naturally return to the earth. But demigods are different. Demigods are immortal beings. The shed soul fragments can be absorbed directly, which not only bolsters one's soul foundation but also expands the Temple of Sorcery—this is currently the simplest and most effective method of expanding a Temple of Sorcery known, bar none. "If that holds true for demigods, it naturally applies to God-Leaders as well." Vichy stared intently at him. "If I can absorb God-Leader-level soul fragments enough times, I can naturally advance to God-Leader without any risk." Yaxiu breathed a sigh of relief. As long as it didn't involve severing his soul, it wasn't a problem. "As long as I provide you with soul fragments, do you promise not to seize every opportunity to slaughter living beings indiscriminately?" Vichy pondered for a moment and said, "To me, one of your soul fragments is worth ten thousand souls. You should be able to metabolize one fragment roughly every month. For as long as you're willing to provide soul fragments, I guarantee I won't lay a finger on those lowly souls—provided you can actually produce them, of course." He had harbored doubts before, but seeing Vichy calculate the accounts so clearly actually put Yaxiu's mind at ease. "No problem. What do I need to do?" "Have you really thought this through?" Vichy warned him solemnly. "To harvest your soul fragments, I must thoroughly permeate your soul. It is an exceedingly dangerous process, one that not even I have ever attempted, because no one would be foolish enough to entrust their soul to the Spectre Prophet. "Even if I harbor no ill intentions, if the slightest mishap or error occurs, not even I can predict the consequences. "Moreover, your part of the task is exceptionally difficult. I don't know if you can pull it off, and if you slip up, you could very well be injured. "Tremendous risk, unpredictable danger, mounting difficulties, and absolutely zero benefit to you. Are you truly willing?" Yaxiu pondered in silence, the gaze he turned toward Vichy taking on the solemn, sacred light of a martyr. "This is the price I must pay for your sake," he said. Just like in the candy shop, the maid could slip away without paying, but he could not... Someone had to shoulder the malice of the Spectre Prophet. For some reason, seeing Yaxiu's deadpan, intensely solemn expression, Vichy couldn't help narrowing her eyes into a grin, mirth dancing at the corners of her eyes. She crawled toward Yaxiu on hands and knees, an enigmatic light flickering in her gaze—resembling a maid who might snuggle into his embrace to act coy at any second, yet also like a demon poised to bare sharp fangs and claws to pounce upon prey. Yaxiu instinctively leaned backward, but the railing stood right behind him. He had nowhere left to retreat. "The ritual is perilous. I will handle the other steps, but you must complete the most critical and difficult one." The pink-haired elf maid wrapped her arms around her master's neck, a teasing smile playing across her face, her breath carrying an intoxicating, bewitching fragrance. "And that is: pretend to fall in love with me." "This time," she smirked mischievously, "I won't bite your tongue." *So we really did french kiss before, and she even bit my tongue,* Yaxiu thought.