C14 The Intruder

Lankro, completely bare, had darted into his room. Sounds of objects colliding and a young girl's pained moans emanated from within, clearly indicating she had accidentally bumped into something in her panic, prompting Egerton to chuckle and shake his head in amusement.

Thankfully, Lankro's cries weren't loud enough to draw the attention of the nearby patrol guards.

Egerton waited for a few minutes in a wooden chair before the door finally creaked open, revealing a disheveled Lankro stepping out with a timid gait.

"Take off that outfit," Egerton said, a mischievous grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

"What's he planning to do?" Lankro's heart raced, her entire body blushing with shy embarrassment.

"Does he want to...? Of course, all men are the same. He was probably just playing hard to get yesterday..."

Her hands shook as she began to undress, but before she could shift the fabric even five centimeters, Egerton tossed a package her way.

"What are you thinking? I've bought you some new clothes. You don't need to wear those anymore. Go change in my room. And why on earth are you naked? Is that a habit of yours?" Egerton asked, feigning innocence.

Being a gentleman seems so challenging; one misstep could lead to a loss of virtue.

"Those clothes were just so uncomfortable..." Lankro explained, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

And how was I to know you'd return so quickly?

It was still the afternoon, a time when most adventurers return before nightfall. Lankro had taken a bold risk based on this fact. Otherwise, even after offering herself to him the previous night, she wouldn't have dared to face Egerton naked in broad daylight.

"Alright, go change. I've bought some food; you must be hungry by now," Egerton said, not pressing the issue further as he headed to the kitchen.

Five minutes later, Lankro emerged in the pink dress that had once taken Egerton's breath away. Egerton, mid-bite into a piece of roasted mutton, was once again taken aback.

Lankro's figure was more voluptuous than Verl's, making the dress, which fit Verl snugly, seem tight on Lankro. Where Verl's chest formed a valley, Lankro's appeared as two striking white orbs. Her slender waist and long legs only added to her allure. How could she be anything but captivating?

As Lankro watched the saliva drip from the mutton onto the table, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within her.

Thought you could reject and ignore me? Now you see the allure I possess, don't you?

Yet, there was a mix of fear and anticipation in her heart. It was just her and Egerton in the room, and she didn't dare to run out. If Egerton were to do something to her now, there would be no consequences to fear.

And it seemed she wouldn't put up any resistance, either.

"My chest and butt are so tight. Hmph, he must have done this on purpose, just to get more out of me!"

"Eat something." Coming back to his senses, Egerton realized he had been distracted and, with an embarrassed touch to his nose, he spoke.

"Why is it all meat?" Lankro sat down, eyeing the food on the table with discontent.

There was roast mutton, fried pork skewers, and pan-fried fish, but not a single vegetable in sight.

"Aren't you a cat? I got this fish for you," Egerton said matter-of-factly.

"You! I'm a Catwoman, not just any cat. Sure, I like fish, but I need to eat vegetables too!" Lankro insisted. "Oh, then go buy them yourself. You're spending my money, living in my house, and still complaining?" Egerton replied, exasperated.

"Thank you," Lankro said, her anger giving way to frustration as she realized she had no comeback, deflating in defeat.

"It's okay. As long as you're content being a believer of my sect, that's what matters. So, did you pray devoutly today?" Egerton inquired.

"Don't tell me you spent half the day running around my house naked and completely forgot I asked you to pray!"

"Isn't it the same if I pray after eating?" Lankro, knowing she was at fault, mumbled her defense.

"Take this seriously. If you keep this attitude, I won't be able to protect you when Viscount Hagen comes looking for you," Egerton said with a sigh.

His advancement to Class 3 hinged on Lankro becoming a regular believer. Only as a Powerful One with Class 3 could he stand a chance against Viscount Hagen. If Lankro dropped the ball, everything would be ruined.

"Hmm... I'll go wash the dishes," Lankro remembered her earlier promise to Egerton, her voice tinged with dejection.

"No need. Just focus on your prayers so you can become a true believer sooner. That way, we can deal with Viscount Hagen's issue more quickly," Egerton said, taking the three plates and heading straight for the kitchen.

"What is this? Am I just a tool to you?" Lankro felt a sting from Egerton's indifferent and seemingly harsh demeanor. Confused whether she was more disappointed or angry, she disregarded his plan and reached out to snatch the plates from him.

"I'll wash them!" "Hey, what are you doing? Stop that!" Egerton hadn't anticipated Lankro's sudden move to grab the plates. He swerved to avoid her, but as he looked back, he was distracted by the striking vision of white before him, and his steps faltered.

The sound of clattering ensued as the three plates landed perfectly on the floor, shattering into pieces.

"...I'm sorry." Lankro gazed at the broken fragments and the silently stooping Egerton, who was picking them up. She finally regained her composure, her heart filling with remorse.

What am I doing? He hasn't done anything to me, and yet I'm causing such a fuss.

Watching Egerton head to the kitchen without uttering a word, Lankro's already flustered heart grew even more anxious.

Is he angry? He must be. He doesn't even want to speak to me!

Will he tell others that I'm here?

No, he wouldn't. What am I thinking? He wouldn't do something like that.

But after all the chaos I've caused, wouldn't it be justified if he did?

"Why are you just standing there? I know you wanted to wash the dishes, but now they're broken. You'll have to wait until next time to wash them. Alright, alright, I'm asking you—please, will you go and pray?" Egerton said, his headache intensifying at the sight of Lankro frozen at the kitchen doorway.

If he didn't need something from Lankro, he would have seriously considered showing this Catwoman the door.

It wasn't that he was blaming her for the mishap; it was just that he found this way of interacting to be incredibly bothersome.

Egerton found himself constantly attending to her needs: serving her meals, helping her dress, and caring for her moods, all while enduring the constant allure of her femininity. Even during the four years he spent gradually building his influence in the Eastern Region, he had never felt as exhausted as he did now.

"Aren't you mad at me?" Lankro asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Why would I be mad at you? It was me who fell by accident. I'm not the type to be unreasonable," Egerton replied, clearly confused.

Lankro gazed at Egerton, searching his refined face for any trace of anger. But after scrutinizing him for a good ten seconds, she couldn't detect any signs of annoyance or displeasure. Finally, Lankro was convinced that Egerton was telling the truth.

"Hey, what are you—mmph!" Before Egerton could finish his explanation, Lankro had suddenly lunged at him. The blinding whiteness of her approach momentarily slowed his reaction, and in that instant, Lankro's pink lips met his, stealing his first kiss on the Sylvian Continent. His face flushed as red as a baboon's rear, he darted into an adjacent room.

"What have I just done? Why did I act so impulsively? That was my first kiss!" Lankro murmured to himself, his cheeks burning as he recalled the moment, burying his face in the pillow.

"Is this my fate, to have my first kiss taken by force? But what exactly happened this time?" Outside the room, Egerton, still puzzled, touched his lips that retained a lingering sweetness, his thoughts drifting back to the memory of his first kiss in the Eastern Region.

Both kisses shared a strange similarity, though the circumstances and the person were different.

Meanwhile, on Belleroc Avenue in the Starmoon Duchy, Baron Vonk, who had been frightened off by Colette, strolled along the street. He was on his way to a tavern to see if he could find an attractive dancer to take home and relieve some stress.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept by, and two shadowy figures appeared before him. Before Vonk could react, one figure clamped a hand over his mouth while the other hoisted him up. In broad daylight, the two figures whisked Vonk into a nearby alley, out of sight of the astonished onlookers.

What was even more astonishing was that passersby couldn't witness the scene unfolding before them. To their eyes, the spot where Baron Vonk stood was shrouded in nothing more than a wisp of fog, rendering everything else invisible.

"Who are you? I am a baron of the duchy. If you dare to harm me, you will face the death penalty!" Vonk did not know where he had been taken, but once the hand covering his mouth was finally removed, he blurted out his fearful threat.

"Do you truly comprehend the predicament you're in?" A shadowy figure, enshrouded in fog, delivered a harsh kick to Vonk, whose features remained obscured.

"Don't worry, we have no intention of harming you. We simply have a few questions for you," another shadow spoke.

"You may speak," Vonk said, having regained his senses and realizing there was no one else around, he became somewhat more cooperative.

"You posted a job at the Bounty Guild, seeking someone to assassinate a Class 2 believer, correct?"

"How do you know about that?" Vonk exclaimed, startled.

"Relax, we're not the enforcers here to investigate you. Our interest lies with the believer," the shadow replied with a hint of amusement.

"You're looking to trouble the believer?" Vonk paused, then his face lit up with manic glee.

His own power might have been limited to Class 2, but it wasn't hard for him to discern that the two shadowy figures before him were of a significantly higher caliber, at least Class 3 or beyond. If such individuals were after Egerton, it would almost certainly seal the believer's fate.

Vonk, who had been somewhat disgruntled about having to spare Egerton, could hardly contain his elation.