The Worst Operator

Though it felt odd to admit, Yaxiu experienced an inexplicable sense of relief at this very moment. After all, for the first time tonight, he knew exactly who was entering his tent. He had no choice but to know—there were simply no other candidates left. More importantly, unlike the Sword Princess, the Witch, and the Silver Lantern, Yaxiu was completely confident he could talk her down. As long as he refused, she would have to obey; she couldn't take liberties to play the piano or quench steel on her own like the others had. So should he refuse? She was the only one left, after all... If what Yaxiu had done tonight was considered a crime, he was already facing the death penalty; one more offense wouldn't make his sentence any harsher. Yaxiu quickly made up his mind: he had to refuse. Unlike the Sword Princess and the others, the general impression was that she didn't actually like him. She merely wanted to seduce and dominate him. Because of that, everyone guarded against her like a demon and monitored her like an enemy. It was also the only reason they had reluctantly accepted her as a teammate—the Sword Princess and the others trusted that Yaxiu's moral bottom line would never allow him to fall for a demon, especially one with wicked designs. Put simply, they were confident they could keep a sinister, despicable demon under control. Swap that for a maid who was genuinely in love with her master, however, and the situation changed entirely. Yaxiu was the sort of emotional pushover who always remembered the good in others. No matter how deeply he loathed a demon's wickedness, he was still prone to crumbling under a maid's tenderness. Under normal circumstances, him falling for the maid wouldn't be catastrophic—after all, from the Blood Moon to the Stars, there were people he liked everywhere. The real problem was that the maid could always turn back into a demon. To her, being a demon was her entire existence, whereas being a maid was an eyesore, a humiliating blemish. Even the Witch and the Silver Lantern would never accept a woman who might backstab Yaxiu. The Sword Princess had even made her stance crystal clear: if Yaxiu dared to fall for the maid, she would kill the demon. A demon who hated Yaxiu was permitted to live; a maid who loved Yaxiu had no choice but to die. Even if only to ease the pressure she bore within the team, Yaxiu had to sternly denounce her improper intentions, issue a decisive command, deny her any opportunity, and swiftly drive her from this battlefield. Having made his decision, Yaxiu waited quietly for the blanket to move on its own. The tent was dead silent. The darkness hung heavy, as still as a deep pond, and there wasn't the slightest stir from the wardrobe. Yaxiu closed his eyes, steadying his breath as his body gradually relaxed. Only then did he realize he had been busy for nearly two hours; midnight was fast approaching. Suddenly, like a pebble dropped into the deep pond, the flow of air shifted. Yaxiu distinctly felt a figure abruptly materialize beside the bed, as if she had been lurking in the shadows all along, only emerging now. Wonder: Soul Reflection — Shadow Dimension. The bed let out an almost imperceptible creak as she sat down. Yaxiu could feel the soft mattress yielding beneath the curve of her hips. Her movements were extraordinarily light, like a little squirrel stealing pinecones, desperate not to disturb the stillness in the dark. For some reason, imagining her tiptoeing around so gingerly made Yaxiu want to laugh. What would she do next? A surprise raid? Play the piano? Or... quench steel? Yaxiu's thoughts ran wild. He waited and waited, but a full minute passed without anything happening, as though the only ones in the tent were him and the three girls in the wardrobe. As the seconds ticked by, an itch of curiosity crept into Yaxiu's heart—had she noticed he wasn't asleep? Suddenly, faint ripples disturbed the deep lake of darkness. Yaxiu felt warm breath brushing across his face, as if a demon were leaning down close to him. His heart gave a jolt and he instinctively held his breath. Immediately, he realized his mistake—a sleeping person wouldn't hold their breath; she had definitely noticed he was awake. Sure enough, the breath in front of him vanished. She had clearly realized that Yaxiu had caught on, and panic had seized her too. Before long, however, the warm breath returned, growing less and less restrained. Her breathing was rapid, shallow, and warm, and her heart was bound to be pounding just as fast. It felt like a ravenous demon studying its prey, its body unable to wait another second to feast. Truth be told, the scene was somewhat eerie. The surrounding darkness was absolute, devoid of even a sliver of light, and the silence was total. All one could perceive was the breathing in the dark, giving the impression that one might be devoured the very next moment. Yet Yaxiu wasn't afraid in the least; in fact, he felt like laughing. He could tell she was frightened, which was why she was being so cautious, only daring to lean close and test the waters. She was practically the most cowardly demon he had ever seen. Yaxiu knew she was looking at him. But the darkness was so dense that despite staring straight at each other, neither could see a thing. Perhaps that was precisely why they dared to gaze so brazenly at the unseen figure before them, casting aside all moral bottom lines and personal principles. Gradually, Yaxiu felt her hand slip beneath the blanket. He thought the moment had finally come. Yet contrary to his expectations, she merely took his hand, sliding her fingers between his and intertwining them tightly. It was the first time their fingers had intertwined... perhaps even the first time they had held hands. They had done far more intimate things, yet holding hands still set their hearts racing. The power of the Soul Lock God seeped through their soul bodies, making them "bright." They weren't glowing, nor was the darkness in the tent dispelled, but they could see each other more clearly than ever before—not with their eyes, but with their souls. Yet what appeared before Yaxiu was no ferocious demon. The elf maid sat on the edge of the bed, her left hand tightly gripping Yaxiu's. She leaned forward slightly, her pink, curled twintails draping down either side of her pretty face as she gazed quietly at him. After looking at each other for a long moment, Yaxiu asked softly, "Why are you wearing the maid outfit again?" Ever since training began, Vichy had stopped wearing her maid outfit, switching instead to the Spectre Prophet's ceremonial combat attire: an elegant feathered cloak, a pitch-black vest, tailored trousers, and high-heeled leather boots. To sum it up in a sentence—she looked far cooler than Yaxiu. Yaxiu had assumed she was finally abandoning the maid persona. Yet sitting at his bedside now, Vichy had donned once more the corset that accentuated her proud, supple curves, along with white satin hair accessories and purple over-the-knee socks that cut slightly into the flesh of her thighs beneath a short skirt. There wasn't the slightest hint of the Spectre Prophet about her. "...You don't like it?" Vichy's voice was gentle, but to Yaxiu's ears, it carried an indescribable weakness and apprehension. But how could the Spectre Prophet ever be weak? How could she be apprehensive? "What did you come here for?" Yaxiu asked. Vichy didn't answer. She merely gazed blankly at Yaxiu, her face flushing so red it looked ready to drip blood. Her eyes were hazy like a startled fawn's, making her seem drunk. It was the first time Yaxiu had ever seen Vichy like this; rather than hesitating over something, it seemed more like she was desperately holding something back. The maid stared at Yaxiu for a long time, then slowly raised her hand and tapped her soft lips with a finger. Her eyes remained locked onto his, glistening and watery, reminding Yaxiu of a small animal pleading to be fed. Yaxiu hesitated for a long while before speaking in total resignation. "Just one kiss." He simply couldn't bring himself to refuse. It felt as though he had encountered someone dying of thirst in the desert while possessing an endless supply of iced cola and countless Lalafell delicacies... He felt that if he turned her away, Vichy wouldn't survive. Vichy instantly lit up, the delight in her eyes plain to see; if she had a tail, it would surely be wagging furiously. Pressing her hands down on either side of Yaxiu, she leaned over slowly, kissing him with a careful, expectant tenderness, like a prince kissing a princess. It was not their first kiss, yet it carried more feeling than any that came before. The affection Vichy had kept bottled up inside soaked into Yaxiu's soul amidst the tangled clash of lips and tongues. The surging heat felt as if she wanted to melt herself entirely into his body... Several minutes had passed by the time the kiss finally ended, and Vichy had naturally ended up straddling Yaxiu, her legs clamped around his waist as always. They held each other close, their ragged breaths mingling, the maid's soul body pressed flush against her master's contours. Yaxiu wrapped his arms around her waist, a melancholic feeling rising in his chest—he was truly past the point of no return now. Drawing on past experience, he sighed and took the initiative to ask about her latest breakthrough. "Can you sever the Gospel God's prophecy ability?" Vichy paused, then shook her head. "Can you disrupt the Gospel God's surveillance ability?" Another shake of her head. "Then can you set up an area isolated from the Gospel God?" Still a shake of her head. Yaxiu looked at her in confusion. "Then which aspect of the Gospel God did you crack?" The maid blinked and whispered, "I didn't crack the Gospel God at all." "What?!" Yaxiu was stunned. "You dared to come see me without cracking the Gospel God?!" I hereby declare you the worst operator I have ever seen, bar none!