It was over. Completely over.That was the only thought left in Elara Venn's mind.
She'd gone too far. She'd been caught. She'd be punished—perhaps fatally.
She wanted to explain, to beg for mercy, but her body was giving in. All she could do was look at Hazel Lane with pleading eyes, silently promising never again to mentally undress her boss with such intensity.
Hazel's voice was calm, almost too calm."I've endured it for so long… So long that I can't sleep at night. Even during the day, I can't think straight. All I see is you. If this keeps up, I'm going to lose my mind."
Elara didn't hear a word that followed. The world turned black. She collapsed into unconsciousness.
"You're not the key," Hazel whispered later. "You're my lock."
When Elara finally realized Hazel also wanted her, the joy was nearly tear-inducing.
"I've been single for over two decades," she sniffled to the system. "I deserve some—intimacy."
"…Reminder," the system replied coldly, "Emotional entanglements with mission-world entities are prohibited."
"No, no," Elara shook her head. "No feelings. Just carnal curiosity. It's all physical. No strings."
"Correction: any improper thoughts toward mission-world entities are forbidden."
"You just made that up."
"Violation results in immediate logout and subject termination."
"…Fine, fine, you win. But she's the one making the move, not me. So what then? Eliminate her?"
After a long pause, the system responded with rare hesitation:"…You can't respond."
That was all Elara needed. Response or not—there'd still be experience.
Eyes gleaming, she whispered, "Then I won't respond. I'll just scream. Too bad… this big mansion has no one to save me."
"…Can you behave normally?" the system muttered.
Hazel Lane didn't seem like the type to pursue someone based on appearance alone. What was it about Elara?
The system didn't know. Neither did Elara. But none of that dulled her anticipation. Her mind was already staging elaborate scenes—eighteen variations? No, eighty-eight.
But her body, still under the influence of a strong sedative hidden in the meal, had no plans of moving.
While she slept, Hazel Lane remained seated by the bed. Watching. No, hunting.
Her eyes didn't waver. She was a predator, patient and precise.
Elara, even asleep, felt the heat. She wanted to wake up. She wanted to bite back.
"Elara," the system warned.
"Yes?"
"Can you at least try not to look too eager?"
"I'll try."
"…Start by swallowing your drool."
"That's not drool," Elara sighed. "That's joy. If you'd been a lonely cabbage your whole life and a wild, premium-grade boar finally showed interest—wouldn't you peel yourself open just to show off your juicy heart?"
"I'm not a cabbage," the system snapped. "And I have no desire to witness your juiciness."
Elara froze. "Wait. Can you feel what I feel?"
"…No," the system admitted after a long silence.
"Good," Elara whispered. "For a second there I thought you were about to possess me or something."
Some time passed. Elara slowly drifted back into consciousness.
The curtains were drawn. The room was dim. Her limbs were heavy, her mind foggy, and her body refused to move.
Her eyes were dry. Sleep tugged at her again.
But this wasn't the time for sleep. Not when she could be rolling across this large bed with a beautiful woman.
She forced herself upright, scanning the room. It was sparse—almost sterile. Not a bedroom, more like a study.
She shifted slightly, and something metal clinked.
That's when she felt it—cold, unfamiliar pressure around her ankles.
Just as she looked down, a hand gently cupped her cheek.
"Xiao Yao," Hazel's voice was soft, gentler than before—but no less commanding.
Elara's soul quivered. She wanted to pounce, flip Hazel over and—well, ride like a toddler on a coin-op pony.
"Come ride the magic horse," her brain sang.
Focus.
"…Sister Lane, am I… sunstruck?" she asked, voice hoarse, playing the innocent rabbit caught in the wolf's den.
Hazel offered her a glass of water. Elara tried to take it—but her arms didn't work.
Hazel pulled her into her arms, tilting the glass to her lips.
Elara blinked up, still dazed, still confused. She drank slowly.
The soda was sweet, soothing.
But she realized—too late—that she was nestled in Hazel's lap.
She tried to get up. Hazel didn't let her.
That was when Elara noticed the sound again. The clink.
She looked down. Anklet restraints. Not tight, but limiting.
"…Sister Lane, what's going on?" her voice trembled.
Hazel didn't reply.
A knock at the door. Mrs. Lee's voice:"Miss, the young master's looking for Miss Bai. Can't find her anywhere."
Elara tried to respond—only for Hazel's hand to cover her mouth.
The grip wasn't rough. But it silenced her.
"She said she needed to leave for a few days," Hazel called back. "Please take care of things while she's gone."
Mrs. Lee's voice faded.
Elara could only stare, wide-eyed and breathless.
She thought Hazel just wanted one night. But this—this was imprisonment.
…And it was kind of hot.
But Nathan Lane had finally started trusting her. If she disappeared now, it might undo all her work.
She calmed herself, suppressing her excitement and trying not to grin like a lunatic.
Hazel's hand slowly released her.
"Sister Lane… Nathan will get anxious if I vanish. It'll harm his progress…"
Hazel clearly expected the argument—but still looked displeased.
Then she laughed. A low, spine-chilling laugh.
She leaned in, gripping Elara's chin, and kissed her.
Hazel's lips were cool and soft—like chilled jelly.
For someone who'd never even held hands with a girl before, Elara's brain instantly went blank.
Tongues met. Hazel deepened the kiss.
Elara forgot how to move, forgot how to breathe, forgot everything except the overwhelming yes in her bloodstream.
And as Hazel held her tighter, Elara forgot even the system's warnings.