Chapter 29
Mei’s face crumpled the instant I threatened to leave her behind, and she begged in the most pitiful voice she could muster.
“Hnnng. If I have to carry these bags up those stairs, Mei is really going to die.”
“People don’t die from stairs.”
“You’re so cruel, my lady.”
She pretended to squeeze out tears and dawdled in front of the staircase like a child refusing bedtime.
Before us, a spiral staircase rose endlessly into the sky.
Any normal building over three stories would have an elevator.
‘So that’s why the rent is this cheap.’
I patted the shoulder of the sulking Mei.
“Take your time coming up, Mei!”
“B-but my lady… at least take one bag with you…”
“Oh? Where did that fiercely independent Mei go—the one who told me never to do a maid’s work for her, who swore she’d handle everything herself?”
“Hnnng. I hate you so much right now.”
I cheerfully ignored her adorable whining and trotted up the stairs.
My bravado lasted exactly half a flight.
I was not blessed with Adrian’s iron constitution; the fifth floor might as well have been a mountain peak.
“Huff… huff… I’m going to die.”
My lungs burned, my legs turned to jelly, and I wiped sweat with my handkerchief while praying for the summit. When I finally staggered onto the landing, I stood before a door that read “Aslan Majia Club.”
‘Why does the fifth floor look even worse than the lobby?’
No elevator meant no one bothered to clean up here. The corridor was a disaster.
‘I’ll have Mei scrub the whole thing later.’
She’d faint if she heard me, but that’s what revenge is for.
Definitely revenge for last time.
“Hmm-hmm♪”
I was humming like the pettiest mistress alive, just about to knock, when—
“Kyaaaaah!”
A scream I knew all too well came from inside.
‘Lottie?’
I hadn’t expected to hear that voice here. I yanked the doorknob and burst in.
Lottie Beige was astride some poor man’s back, bawling her eyes out.
The man, suddenly forced to give an adult woman a piggyback ride, was trembling violently, glasses hanging off one ear.
And standing in front of them—
“Eek?”
The woman who had been in the middle of catching a mouse let out a bizarre yelp when she saw me.
Her grip slackened for one fatal second.
The gray mouse seized its chance, wriggled free, and bolted straight toward me.
Our eyes met. Terror met greater terror.
“KYAAAAAAAAAH! MOUSE! MOUSE! MOUSE MOUSE MOUSE!”
My scream dwarfed Lottie’s and rattled the entire hideout.
* * *
The mouse incident ended when Mei, arriving late, caught the little beast with one hand.
She dangled the unconscious rodent and muttered,
“All this fuss over something this small?”
Her eyes glittered with resentment for being abandoned on the stairs and a mischievous desire to torment her mistress.
The power dynamic flipped in an instant, and I immediately groveled.
“Please throw it away, Mei. I’m begging you.”
I backed far away in case it somehow revived and lunged. Mei gave a triumphant little snort.
“Our lady is so delicate. Wait here—I’ll be right back.”
She sashoned off with the mouse, nose in the air. Silence fell.
Lottie, now safely on the floor, waved shyly, her cheeks the color of roasted sweet potatoes.
A tall woman offered an awkward smile and extended her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Lady Rodellia Peris. I’m Sierra Breeze, leader of the Aslan Majia Club. The guy frantically searching for his glasses is Glaster Meyer, our treasurer.”
Glaster flinched at his name and hastily shoved his glasses back on.
“H-hello, Lady P-Peris. T-the earlier commotion is extremely rare, I swear. Absolutely not a regular occurrence…”
He was still shaking.
Just then Mei returned—and accidentally ripped the entire door off its hinges.
“Oops. Why’s this door so flimsy?”
The door was now completely detached from the wall. Reattaching it would be pointless.
“That’s what happens when you have monstrous strength, Mei.”
“It’ll be nice and airy now. Hehe.”
Mei casually propped the door against the wall like it weighed nothing.
Glaster’s lips trembled at the newest casualty. He looked on the verge of tears, as if calculating how many months of club funds this would eat.
I spoke up quickly.
“Sorry for destroying property the moment I arrived. I’ll send someone to fix it tomorrow.”
“N-no, really, you don’t have—”
“We’d be very grateful if you did,” Sierra cut in smoothly, smiling at Glaster with a look that said, Do you know how much that costs? Then shut up if you’re not paying.
We finally sat. The sofa was at least tolerable. I sipped the apple cider they offered and asked,
“Is this everyone?”
“A bunch quit all at once a few days ago. But with you and one other newcomer, we barely meet the minimum membership requirement.”
“Ah.”
“There is technically one more person, but he’s so erratic he almost never shows up to regular meetings. You can just pretend he doesn’t exist.”
“More like a curse than a ghost member,” Sierra muttered, scowling.
That was about to reply when I spotted something outside the window and my eyes widened.
We’re on the fifth floor—why is someone flying straight at us?
And at terrifying speed.
“Huh—?!”
He was coming in hot, clearly about to smash through the glass.
“Danger, my lady!”
Mei threw herself in front of me like the loyal guard dog she sometimes pretends not to be.
CRAAASH—!
Glass exploded inward. The hideout became a battlefield once more.
Thankfully, everyone inside was unharmed.
Sierra had instantly deployed a wide-area defensive barrier, and she growled through clenched teeth,
“That absolute lunatic.”
She sounded almost bored, as if this happened every other Tuesday.
‘She calculated the formula and cast a barrier that size in a split second… impressive.’
There was even room for a sixth person inside the shield.
I stared at the man who had landed in a perfect three-point hero pose, backlit by the broken window.
Black hair fluttered in the wind. His eyes were darker than his tanned skin—black like the heart of night.
He flicked glass shards off his sleeve, raised a lazy hand, and said,
“Yo.”
“‘Yo’ can freeze to death, you reckless idiot! I told you to use the damn door!”
“I told you I was practicing flight, Jiera.”
“It’s SI-ER-RA. How many times do I have to say it? You break everything you touch—just quit the club already, you walking disaster!”
Sierra was practically foaming. The man dug in his ear, completely unbothered.
Glaster was already sweeping up the glass with the weary air of a man who had done this far too many times.
Their teamwork was flawless. This was definitely a family.
“Good lord, what a circus,” I muttered without thinking.
The man’s gaze snapped to me.
“Oh? Fresh meat?”
For a second I thought he’d glare, but instead he strode over and looked me up and down like he was pricing livestock.
Mei’s fists clenched behind me, ready to commit murder.
He grinned.
“Hey newbie—got cash?”
He skipped straight to informal speech. A certified lunatic.
Of course, I’m not exactly the poster child for sanity either.
“How much do you need?”
I pulled out my checkbook. His grin widened.
“How much you willing to give?”
I flicked a check into the air like a playing card.
“Let’s start with this.”
His eyes lit up. Sierra’s eyes lit up. Even Glaster dropped his dustpan with a watery, worshipful stare—like sinners beholding their savior.
My shoulders straightened all on their own.
If money is the only thing I have in abundance, then I’ll use it.
“Need more? Just say the word.”
I’ll show you what a real whale looks like.
The man burst out laughing.
“Pfft—hahaha! You’re hilarious. What’s your name? I’m actually gonna remember this one.”
Arrogant as hell, yet weirdly casual—too wild to be proper nobility.
“I’m Edwin. Call me Ed. Formalities make my skin crawl.”
Edwin Lange.
In this novel, he is the villain—the obsessive, vicious stalker who is hopelessly fixated on the original heroine, Summer.
