[Host, you’re quite a softy.]The system’s voice—Vivi—rang sweetly inside Lemuel’s mind.

  Or rather, inside Bora’s mind—still comfortably wearing the "Lemuel" persona.

  Immediately, a loud wail echoed across their mental link.

  "UWEHHH!! It feels like I voluntarily put on a green hat!! I hate it so much!! Uwaaah!!"Bora’s voice cracked like a heartbroken child, tossing aside the deep, dignified tone of Lemuel without shame.

  Vivi's metaphorical facepalmed.It seemed that no matter how genuinely she tried to praise her host, Bora always managed to destroy the moment.

  "Anyway—!" Bora huffed, clutching her growling stomach."I’m starving! I should’ve eaten first before pulling that melodrama! Ugh, how frustrating!"

  [Yeah, that’s on you, Host.]Vivi’s exasperated sigh felt almost tangible.

  But before Bora could grumble any further, Vivi hesitated, then spoke again:

  [Also... Host? Whenever you’re interacting with the heroines, my system starts... glitching.]

  That made Bora freeze mid-step.

  A slow, mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

  "Oh? Could it be... you're just too old for this, dear Vivi?"Her voice shifted again—back into Lemuel’s perfect, devilishly silky tone, dripping with concern and mockery alike.

  "Maybe you’re simply outdated~ An old dy system, creaking and groaning in her dusty circuits~?"

  Vivi stiffened.

  [Just because you’re technically correct doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud!][I might be an older model, but I still run perfectly fine!!]

  Bora merely shrugged, utterly unsympathetic.

  She zily leaned back into her Lemuel persona, cing her next words with thick, syrupy seduction:

  "Maybe you’re just under a lot of stress, dear Vivi... Maybe you need to take a little break. Rest... Let me handle everything for you."

  His voice—her voice—came out too smooth, too velvet-rich, carrying the full weight of Lemuel’s natural magnetic pull.

  Vivi stuttered audibly across the link.

  [Y-You’re right, Host... I-I should rest a little...]

  The system's tone suggested she was absolutely, positively blushing.

  Bora smirked inwardly, victorious.

  Another fwless critical hit.

  "Now," she thought mischievously, stretching her limbs as her stomach gave another pitiful growl,Time to raid the dining hall like the vilinous menace I am... before I faint from hunger.

  The kitchen fell into a frozen silence the moment Lemuel stepped inside.

  The cook—an older man with trembling hands—stiffened as if he’d been caught stealing royal treasure. His knuckles whitened around the knife he was holding, sweat pouring down his back like a broken faucet.

  Lemuel’s cold gaze swept the room, sharp and predatory.

  "If you can make a great steak," he said, voice like silk ced with steel,"you can meet your family this week."

  The words were calm. Almost kind.

  But to the cook, they sounded like the tolling of a funeral bell.

  [You gained 10 Vilin Points!]Vivi’s voice popped into Lemuel’s mind, startling him a little.

  [Host... you basically told the cook, "make food or die."]

  Lemuel chuckled inwardly.

  "We simply have different definitions of cooking," he replied smoothly, sipping the words through his mind like fine wine.

  Vivi could only helplessly nod.If not for the sng dictionary loaded in her database, even she might have been lost trying to keep up with her host's twisted way of thinking.

  The cook moved with robotic precision, each motion fueled more by primal survival instincts than culinary skill.To him, it felt like being prey under the gaze of a coiled serpent—any wrong move, any hesitation, and he knew his life could end before he even blinked.

  The steak sizzled and smoked.

  Lemuel waited elegantly at a nearby chair, every bit the image of a prince surveying his domain.

  When the pte was finally pced before him, Lemuel picked up his knife and fork with casual grace.Each cut of the meat was clean. Each bite was silent.In less than five minutes, he had finished—neatly, precisely, like a judgment being passed.

  He set down his utensils with a soft clink.

  "You can take a break this week," Lemuel said, standing up smoothly."Tell Elric it's paid leave. Just be back in two days."

  Without waiting for a reply, Lemuel strode out of the kitchen, his coat fluttering behind him like the final page of a death warrant.

  The cook colpsed into a chair the moment Lemuel disappeared from sight.His whole body sagged, adrenaline draining out of him like water from a broken dam.

  He was alive.That was all that mattered.

  Today, survival was the only seasoning he needed.

  Lemuel leaned back zily on the old wooden veranda, eyes half-closed, letting the breeze ruffle his hair.

  Bored, and feeling triumphant after his successful survival meal, he began mentally singing to himself:

  "I'm in the squid of it, everybody knows...I’ve pyed these games before, I screamed freeze and they froze...I don't know nothin’ 'bout no prize I'm not sold...Forty-something billi-won or so I've been told..."

  His voice, though only echoing in his mind, carried an inexplicable aura of rhythm—cool, magnetic... and objectively questionable, considering the lyrics.

  Meanwhile, Angel was wandering through the estate’s vast corridors, trying to catch her breath.

  Her chest still felt tight.The revetion from her brother weighed heavily on her mind—Their family... vilins?It seemed absurd. Their mother had been so kind. Their father, though distant, had always smiled warmly at her...

  Could it really be true? Had they been blind all along?

  Angel’s heart squeezed painfully as she remembered her brother’s words—stripping her of the Ark name to protect her.All this time... he cared.

  Maybe...Maybe if she had realized sooner, things wouldn't have come to this.

  Still lost in thought, Angel wandered toward the veranda.She spotted Lemuel, resting quietly under the shade, his expression surprisingly peaceful.

  Gathering her courage, Angel tiptoed closer—wanting, for the first time in years, to start a conversation.Maybe... maybe she could fix this.

  But just as she was about to call out—

  "From the ddakji red light green,To dalgona season three,Where’s Gi-hun, that's my gganbu,Always trying to cause a scene—"

  Angel froze mid-step.

  Her brother was... chanting?Reciting some complex spell?

  This must be important, she panicked.Maybe memorizing an ancient incantation she shouldn't dare interrupt!

  Face flushing, Angel quickly backed away, silently vowing:

  I’ll work harder.I’ll make him proud.I’ll show him I'm worthy.

  Maybe—just maybe—he would praise her, like he used to when they were kids.

  Meanwhile, Vivi, still connected to Lemuel’s mindscape, was having an existential crisis.

  [Host...] Vivi's voice cracked slightly.[I can't decide whether to vibe or be repulsed. Your voice carries the song perfectly, but the lyrics... are trash.]

  Lemuel simply grinned inwardly, unfazed.

  "Talent always shines through, Vivi. Even when the song is garbage."

  Vivi wanted to argue, but couldn’t.

  The worst part?She had started humming along.