After the Black Moonlight’s "Death Escape" Failed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Wolf and the Whip-Wielder

◎ A Princess Carry ◎

The surrounding gazes felt almost physical, heavy with various emotions as they pinned Nameless at the center, waiting for her move. To most, “leaning forward” was a simple enough task, but for Nameless, it was anything but.

Her legs were useless, and the recovery of her lower back was incomplete. She had tried it during her bath; the pain of that movement was no different from a torture device being driven into the seams of her bones, sawing through her waist bit by bit.

A slight vibration came from the back of the wheelchair; the butler was subtly urging her.

“…” Nameless’s fingers tightened on the armrest. After a few breaths, she leaned forward.

“Stop.”

Nameless froze. She pulled her eyes away from the polished floor and looked up at Jiao Qingyin.

Jiao Qingyin, however, avoided her direct gaze. She turned her head slightly unnaturally and spoke: “Do it after we return to the room.”

With that, she resumed her pace, her rhythm slightly faster than before.

Jiao Qingyin’s words were vague, but to the listeners, they carried weight. Combined with her past image, the crowd couldn’t help but associate her actions with something ambiguous. Perhaps the Princess had felt a sudden whim to have the slave serve her, only to change her mind and decide to keep the matter more private…

These servants were accustomed to obedience, their daily movements mechanical and numb. Their rare autonomous thoughts were mostly spent speculating on Otillia Hughes’s whims. At this moment, though no words were exchanged, they reached a silent consensus:

The Princess’s tastes seem different than usual, but this slave is weak and disabled, her white hair looking devoid of life. It likely won’t be long—perhaps as early as today—before she is discarded after being played with.

Jiao Qingyin, being misidentified as a pervert, kept her head down and walked forward, her strides growing larger and her expression tinged with irritation.

She had violated her principles for the protagonist again. On her first day working for the Time and Space Management Bureau, Jiao Qingyin knew that a host should never develop any redundant emotions toward a mission target. Whether positive or negative, such feelings would only hinder the completion of the task.

This wasn’t a hard rule—Jiao Qingyin had even heard of hosts falling in love with targets and voluntarily abandoning their missions to stay in the small worlds forever. But she was different. She had to complete every mission perfectly to get the maximum points; only then could she exchange them for a chance to be resurrected in her original world.

Sometimes during a mission, Jiao Qingyin felt she was being ridiculous, wondering how she was any different from a donkey chasing a carrot on a stick. Yet, in this specific mission, she didn’t know how many times she had already softened for the protagonist.

She had noticed Nameless trembling just now. Without even thinking, she had instinctively stopped the girl’s movement. She had repeatedly made exceptions for her, even losing two role-play points. Was it because she had never encountered such a tragic and pitiful target before, or…

“Host, you need not think so much.”

“…” Jiao Qingyin didn’t respond.

The system’s tone was flat as usual: “This is just one of your many missions. As long as your persona doesn’t collapse in front of the protagonist and you complete the final goal, you don’t need to be so strict with yourself. Treat it as an occasional relaxation.”

Jiao Qingyin raised an eyebrow. [Since when does your system advise hosts to relax?]

“Human nature is such; a balance between work and rest is necessary”, the system said.

[Sounds like you understand human nature better than I do.] Jiao Qingyin joked rareley with the system.

The system replied quite seriously: “The system’s database contains vast amounts of research on human nature available for the Host to study.”

Jiao Qingyin couldn’t help but curve the corner of her mouth. The system’s comfort was stiff and not exactly sophisticated, but her mood did feel less stifled. She tilted her head and glanced at the protagonist in the wheelchair. The girl’s figure was thin, her head lowered in thought—she looked like she could be blown away by a gust of wind at any moment.

Upon returning to the bedroom, Jiao Qingyin’s first instinct was to find where Al was. Fortunately, the white fluff-ball was very conspicuous; Jiao Qingyin immediately spotted the puppy curled up in front of the fireplace.

Al was snoring softly in her sleep. Jiao Qingyin relaxed. After allowing the butler to remove her heavy cloak, she signaled for the wheelchair to be pushed near the fireplace as well.

“Your Highness.” Having finished this, the butler asked softly for instructions.

“Summon Lottis.”

“Yes.” The butler bowed and closed the door as she left.

Nameless faced the warm fireplace, the puppy curled into a ball beside her. Behind her was Jiao Qingyin, doing who-knows-what. Unable to turn around, she could only prick up her ears and rely on her hearing to judge the situation.

The rustle of fabric, the crisp clink of metal… after hearing the sound of boots being tossed casually onto the floor, Nameless realized Jiao Qingyin was changing clothes. Her breathing hitched, and veins appeared on the back of her hands as she gripped the wheelchair.

After a while, the background noise vanished, replaced by Jiao Qingyin’s approaching footsteps. The feeling of danger closing in from behind made Nameless’s scalp crawl. The lack of vision only caused her inner anxiety to escalate; she instinctively tried to turn her head.

“Don’t move.” Jiao Qingyin placed a hand on her shoulder.

Nameless gave an almost imperceptible shiver. She knew very well that coming to this bedroom was a massive gamble. If Jiao Qingyin wanted to do anything to her now, she had essentially no way to resist.

She was gambling—gambling on her observations from the past two days, gambling that Jiao Qingyin was different from the rumors, gambling on… a minuscule possibility. If she won, she would use this chance to increase her leverage for revenge; if she lost… at least she had one final trump card that could take Jiao Qingyin to the grave with her.

Nameless’s chest felt slightly warm; buried there was a Blood Curse—a spell that required no magical talent but could only be triggered at the cost of the user’s life.

Just as she reached her peak state of alertness, Jiao Qingyin leaned down and lifted her right hand.

Nameless: “!!”

Good, it’s not as icy anymore, Jiao Qingyin breathed a sigh of relief.

When Nameless had held her finger earlier, her hand was as cold as an ice cube. After being by the fire for a bit, her body temperature had finally risen. It was a good thing she had agreed to the request and brought her back; otherwise, in this frail, helpless state, staying outside any longer would have likely led to a severe illness or fever.

Nameless had no idea what Jiao Qingyin was thinking. Being suddenly held by this mercurial Princess made goosebumps travel from her arm to her neck; she was on the verge of a stress response. Seeing Jiao Qingyin refuse to let go, she finally couldn’t help but squeeze a few words through her gritted teeth: “Do you… have a purpose?”

Jiao Qingyin looked down. Seeing that Nameless was about to “blow her fur,” she replied instinctively: “Can’t I touch you if I don’t have a purpose?”

Nameless: “…” It took immense self-control not to throw the woman’s hand off.

As if to provoke her further, Jiao Qingyin finished touching her fingers and then pinched her palm twice. It was a sensation Nameless had felt yesterday in her half-awake state—exactly the way one would squeeze a pet’s paw pads.

Nameless’s blood boiled with anger, but Jiao Qingyin was thinking seriously.

Mhm, just as the prologue of “Introduction to Basic Elemental Magic” said: long fingers, distinct knuckles, and a feeling of suction when element force is gathered in the palm… The protagonist was indeed a once-in-a-millennium magical genius as described in the plot; even her hands were grown according to the textbook.

Having confirmed her book-learning was correct, Jiao Qingyin shifted her attention to the most important task at hand.

“Don’t move,” she emphasized again before acting.

Nameless was still fuming, her mind cycling through various insults, but in the next second, her body unexpectedly became weightless.

Nameless’s brain gave a loud buzz, and her eyes widened.

Jiao Qingyin had picked her up—one hand supporting her under her shoulder blades, the other cradling the crook of her knees. Black hair fell against Nameless’s face, bringing a slight tickling sensation, and she once again smelled that faint fragrance.

Floral mixed with soap. It didn’t smell like anything that belonged in this world—it was subtle, but… reassuring.