“Who were you sending a letter to?”
Su Zhao asked with a breath as weak as gossamer.
Her mind was completely blank, but her tone remained steady enough, finally preserving a shred of dignity for herself.
Yet that slightly trembling tail end of her voice still betrayed her inner breakdown at that moment.
The auctioneer touched her own red, swollen neck, and that eye-catching mark looked precisely like the result of someone holding a blade right against her throat and coercing her through intimidation.
With a tearful expression, as weak as if her spine had been extracted, she whimpered, “I… I dare not say.”
The system’s considerate prompts popped up one after the other.
[Debt Settlement Clause Execution Notice]
[If the user fails to settle the agreed amount within 30 natural days, the system will automatically initiate the mandatory performance procedure.
Overdue debtors are required to fulfill their repayment obligations through labor-based compensation. The specific service content and duration will be proportionally calculated based on the un-repaid amount.]
With shaking hands, Su Zhao clicked open the so-called labor-based compensation method.
In her mind, only a single thought spun frantically: Exactly when on earth had she managed to run up a massive debt of thirty billion?
In just a short span of time, she had already cycled through countless guesses. But given a situation where an auctioneer could be sent out and it was connected to Lanster City,
she did not even have to ponder for long before guessing precisely where those thirty billion had come from.
It was only at this moment that Su Zhao realized her own body price was actually so exorbitant, reaching a staggering thirty billion!
That was thirty billion!
Su Zhao closed her eyes in agony.
Given Su Zhao’s current identity, lacking money was theoretically out of the question. Yet she also had to admit that standing before the financial heavyweight No. 12, who casually tossed around gold coins by the millions, she was genuinely, undeniably a pauper.
She had assumed that since she had practically ransacked Lanster City and driven Duke Nolland out of her territory, this whole affair would quietly blow over and fade into obscurity. Su Zhao hadn’t given it another thought.
Who could have predicted that this wondrous magical world would deliver a vicious backstab via stellar contractual integrity?
A massive debt of 3 billion, with a 30-day fundraising window.
The system recognized this astronomical transaction.
The game seemed remarkably thoughtful, even granting Su Zhao a chance at redemption by generously giving her a one-month grace period so she could buy back her ownership from VIP No. 12.
These two numbers loomed like a pair of towering mountains.
Believing she could never possibly pay it back, Su Zhao simply abandoned all hope and began earnestly studying the details of the labor-based compensation, getting a head start on contemplating the fate of a professional deadbeat.
The contents of the labor-based compensation were exceptionally simple.
Except that the rating was entirely unsuitable for minors.
Left speechless, Su Zhao read that short paragraph three full times.
She felt as though every single line was densely packed with exactly two words, being a dog!
To put it bluntly, if she failed to buy herself back, she would have to sacrifice her freedom. She would have to docilely become No. 12’s slave, completely devoid of dignity, at the mercy of the other party’s arbitrary commands and do whatever they pleased.
Bound by the contract, she would be unable to refuse any excessive demands from the other party.
In short, flesh-based repayment.
Su Zhao: “…”
Something is seriously wrong with this game!
If she couldn’t clear her debts, she was literally going to go and be a dog for a woman!
A bizarre roleplaying play.
Stimulating, certainly stimulating.
Engaging, certainly engaging.
Though, of course,
it wasn’t entirely out of the question.
But before all that, Su Zhao would much rather have a sweet romance.
A dating sim had transformed overnight into some sort of depraved eighteen-plus game. Su Zhao was utterly baffled, racking her brain in repeated recollection.
She hadn’t installed any weird patches, had she?
The auctioneer before her was still crying and whining.
The sheer audacity.
Su Zhao’s temples throbbed violently. Struck by this depth-charge of a message and imagining her own bleak, sunless gaming future, her rationality was hanging by a thread.
On one hand, she opened the game interface to check her last save timestamp, frantically testing whether she could reload an earlier save to fix this.
On the other hand, she gnawed at her itching teeth, suppressing the urge to tear the auctioneer limb from limb, and asked with a smile.
“You’re afraid of that mastermind behind the scenes, but you’re not afraid of me?”
Did everyone think she was running a charity?
Even the benevolent Saintess herself, a figure akin to the Virgin Mary, hadn’t shown the slightest hesitation when slaughtering dark creatures.
Su Zhao pointed an empty finger at the wound on the auctioneer’s neck, flattening her palm into a blade to slowly swipe downward as she threatened.
“She needed you to run errands, which is why she left you your pathetic life. Now that your task is finished, I am very angry. Take a guess, will I spare your life?”
Her tone was as gentle as a spring breeze.
In reality, Su Zhao was practically driven insane by anger.
She even darkly entertained a crackpot scheme: if she simply rubbed out her creditor, would she still have to pay the money back?
The moment this wild idea popped up, it spread through the bottom of her heart like wildfire.
The auctioneer’s face instantly turned ashen, beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolling down her forehead as her legs buckled uncontrollably and she dropped heavily to her knees.
“Your Highness, I beg for your mercy! I, I truly had no choice. I’m just a humble auctioneer, how could I ever dare defy orders?”
With that, she burst into loud, bitter sobs.
At the same time, Su Zhao finally located the specialized warning clause attached to this contract.
[Special Warning]
[This penalty mechanism is an irreversible process and cannot be reset through reloading saves, top-ups, items, or assassination.]
[Players are encouraged to freely explore hidden side branches or increase key character favorability values to obtain a debt grace agreement.]
Reading the text clearly, Su Zhao slowly closed her eyes.
She didn’t dare open them again.
Hoping it was all just a hallucination.
Today, even if the auctioneer cried herself to death right in front of her or leaped off the balcony, Su Zhao wouldn’t feel a shred of pity!
Absolutely not!
“Your Highness, shall we apprehend this person?”
Just as the auctioneer tried to step forward, the knights closed in with expressions of suspicion and alarm, their frost-glistening lances dropping unceremoniously to pin her limbs firmly in place.
Behind their metal visors, countless pairs of cold, rigid eyes cast uniform gazes toward Su Zhao, awaiting her next command.
Though clueless about the situation, here in the Summer Palace, a single word from her meant a commoner’s life was worth less than a blade of grass, entirely at her whim.
The chief culprit was that damned bandit miss.
The accomplice was that unconscionable dark mage.
And VIP No. 12.
While the auctioneer certainly bore blame, she was ultimately just a wage-slaved cog taking orders for a paycheck; her crimes didn’t warrant execution.
Su Zhao thought it over and over again. Looking at the auctioneer’s deliberately pathetic display of misery, her conscience twitched with a dull ache.
“It’s nothing, just an old acquaintance.”
Knowing full well the woman was faking it, and feeling the flag she’d just planted wobble precariously, Su Zhao couldn’t help sighing, blaming herself for being far too soft-hearted.
These knights belonged to Cynthia; Su Zhao knew that whatever she did one second would be ratted back to Cynthia the very next.
After a moment of deliberation, she simply waved a hand to signal them to release the woman.
On one hand, Su Zhao worried that if she just let her go, Cynthia’s warped possessive streak might lead her to forcibly abduct the woman and extract a confession through torture.
On the other hand, she worried that Evelyn hadn’t yet tracked down any clues regarding VIP No. 12. Keeping the auctioneer around might still prove useful.
Su Zhao gestured for the attendants to untie the bindings.
“She’ll stay with me for now.”
The attendants exchanged glances.
Not a single one dared to pipe up and answer.
With Cynthia currently absent, waiting to send word back and forth for permission would take God-knows-how-long.
After a brief standoff, Su Zhao smoothly installed the woman right inside her own personal quarters. She took the opportunity to instruct the auctioneer to quietly smuggle over the invitation letter resting on her desk.
Su Zhao herself was barred from leaving this room.
The auctioneer, however, was not.
Unsure when Evelyn’s plans would bear fruit, the auctioneer’s arrival offered a timely reminder. Preparing the invitation letter in advance was always a prudent move.
Once the tailor finished her work and the maids withdrew in silence, Su Zhao was left entirely alone. She collapsed into her seat like all her strength had been sucked out, letting out a heavy sigh.
The sudden turn of events was so abrupt that she needed to seriously figure out how on earth she was going to scrape together twenty billion gold coins.
The thirty-day grace period hung over her head like the sword of Damocles. Until this matter was resolved, she wouldn’t have a single peaceful moment of sleep.
The mere thought of having to go and act like a dog for some other woman…
Cuddling with her sister wasn’t even fun anymore!
Su Zhao opened the system interface, took stock of her total assets, and despairingly realized that the game was truly ruthless.
When it said asset transfer, it meant absolute transfer. Iron-fisted and merciless.
Every bit of property tied to this identity had quietly changed hands. Even the gold card her mother had given her, one she had never touched, had found itself a new holder.
Right now, all her real estate and liquid funds had become someone else’s property. As for herself, she couldn’t even fish a single copper coin out of her pockets; she was flat broke.
If she urgently needed gold coins, she’d likely have to resort to pawning off the gorgeous apparel and expensive jewelry Cynthia had arranged for her.
Dirt poor.
Su Zhao never imagined that she, someone who had never worried about food or drink in reality, would one day experience the torment of financial distress inside a video game.
She used to mock that succubus for being devastatingly, outrageously poor. Now that the boomerang had slammed back into her and left her stinging with pain, Su Zhao finally felt a bit more empathetic toward her.
Su Zhao stared blankly at her glaring account balance.
And experienced a sudden epiphany.
When a person is truly impoverished, dignity can be thrown out the window. For the sake of small change, she was capable of anything.
She even briefly considered dragging Todd back, forcing her to organize another auction, and putting her own corset up on the block a second time.
Su Zhao: “…”
A deep sigh.
Indeed, true perspective doesn’t exist in this world; there is only empathy born of shared misery.
So broke.
So broke.
So broke.
These three words acted like a curse.
Su Zhao was going crazy from poverty.
Where was the money going to come from?
Today, the noble imperial princess was utterly sorrowful, reeking entirely of copper coins. Even when the auctioneer stealthily delivered the invitation letter and she picked up her pen to write down Evelyn’s name,
Su Zhao paused for a few seconds, stroked the remarkably high-quality paper, and couldn’t help biting her pen as she plunged into contemplation:
If she were to sell an imperial royal ball invitation letter, it ought to fetch a pretty penny, right?
Those down-and-out minor nobles in the imperial capital cared the most about these symbols of prestige.
And those nouveau riche with money but no power would probably be willing to bleed their wallets dry and throw away fortunes just to secure an invitation slot.
Hold on! Stop thinking about it!
Su Zhao tapped her own head with her quill, looking deeply troubled as she realized that if she actually dared pull such a humiliating stunt, her mother would likely be the very first person to disown her.
Distractedly, Su Zhao wrote down Evelyn’s name.
Just as the ink dried, the window was suddenly knocked upon.
Startling her so badly that her spine stiffened, Su Zhao hid the invitation letter without a second thought. Two seconds later, through the flickering candlelight on the glass pane, she recognized Evelyn’s face.
Surprised and delighted, Su Zhao hurriedly shoved the window open and leaned out. “Sister, why are you here?”
Seeing Evelyn inside the Summer Palace felt completely surreal to Su Zhao.
Perhaps subconsciously, she always felt this person had no business appearing here. Or perhaps their ongoing dynamic had always been sneaking around for clandestine, back-alley meetings.
Like an affair.
Su Zhao knew she was just acting with a guilty conscience.
“I just dropped off Duke Nolland.”
Evelyn extended an arm toward her. Su Zhao leaned past the windowsill to glance outside.
Shadows flickered across various corners of the palace grounds; Cynthia’s guards were patrolling every nook and cranny, making conversation rather inconvenient.
Fearing discovery, she simply blew out the candle, nimbly climbed over the windowsill, and slipped smoothly straight into Evelyn’s embrace.
Evelyn wrapped her arms around her waist as the two shifted under the cover of the tree shadows. Su Zhao grabbed the lapels of her collar, her eyes filled with concern as she asked urgently.
“Was Sister’s trip smooth?”
Evelyn’s voice was a shade lower than usual as her fingertips brushed past Su Zhao’s messy side-locks.
“Very smooth. The squad of elves who guided me were quite valiant; their volleys of arrows kept long-range suppression on Nolland, forcing her to constantly divide her attention to dodge, which severely crippled her combat capability.”
Noticing the fatigue hidden beneath Evelyn’s calm expression, Su Zhao rubbed against her shoulder reassuringly.
“I knew it, Sister is the best!”
Evelyn smiled slightly, gently patting her head. As she lowered her gaze, her eyelashes cast soft shadows beneath her eyes.
“Duke Nolland’s body had been overdrawn for too long. Coupled with the demon forcibly burning her soul in an attempt to blast through our encirclement, she was already at the end of her rope by the time we captured her.”
Su Zhao subconsciously raised her head, glancing toward the dungeons within the Summer Palace. That demon she had found so intriguing was currently reduced to a prisoner behind bars.
She wondered, if she had the opportunity, could she interact with the demon before its demise?
Just to see if any hidden side quests could be triggered.
Evelyn continued, “I’ve trapped the demon within her own body. Until the holy light fades, the demon is temporarily sealed and unable to leave Duke Nolland’s flesh.”
“However, this kind of entity can only be sealed, not completely scattered. I’ve already petitioned His Holiness the Pope to send the sacred artifacts to the Lanyin Empire. Once they arrive, we’ll seal her inside the artifact and transfer her to the Holy City.”
Mentioning sacred artifacts instantly reminded Su Zhao of the artifact the demon had once tempted her to steal from Evelyn during their attempted trade.
Curiously, she asked, “What sacred artifact?”
Evelyn raised a hand in an empty gesture, and holy light slowly materialized in the air, sketching out the outline of a thorny crown.
“The Crown of Judgment.”
“It is said to possess the power to purify all evil in the world, a divine relic left behind when the God of Light descended to the mortal realm a thousand years ago.”
Just hearing the description made it sound like an overpowered item.
The kind that warranted its own dedicated CG illustration.
Perhaps because Su Zhao had been traumatized by thirty billion today, her primary reaction upon hearing about this supreme treasure was:
Just how much could this Holy See supreme treasure sell for?
Yet the next second, Su Zhao thought of the demon that had persistently propositioned her, and couldn’t help glancing down at her game inventory.
The Demon Badge lay quietly inside, completely motionless, looking like a dead object.
At a moment when she was three billion in debt and desperately needed cash, an invisible force had neatly delivered a priceless Holy See treasure right to her doorstep.
It felt almost like a temptation custom-tailored just for her.
The timing of these two events overlapping,
seemed just a little too subtle.
Su Zhao didn’t think she was overthinking. She was deeply interested in the Holy See’s supreme treasure, and clearly, that imprisoned Duke Nolland was even more desperate and invested in it than she was.
She clutched Evelyn’s sleeve. “When the Crown of Judgment arrives, can I touch it?”
The night breeze carried a slight chill, but Evelyn’s body temperature never seemed to change, remaining a constant warmth in all four seasons like a heated stone.
Evelyn pried her fingers loose, turning her hand over to encase Su Zhao’s chilly fingers within her palm. “Alright.”
Su Zhao looked up at her, Evelyn’s expression half-buried in the swaying tree shadows. She always felt Evelyn’s mood was a bit low today.
“Sister, are you in a bad mood?”
Su Zhao knew her too well; a mere glance at her expression was enough to spot her inner agitation.
Evelyn seemed to have something she wanted to say, gazing at her in a daze. Yet those words fluttered uncertainly in her heart; for reasons unknown, Evelyn never quite managed to voice them.
“No,” she denied.
Su Zhao held her hand, her fingertips resting lightly against her wrist, feeling the rapid, frantic thumping of her pulse.
She was gripping her rather tightly, enough to make Su Zhao’s wrist ache. Yet Evelyn, normally so attentive, completely failed to notice these small details today.
“Is that so?”
Su Zhao murmured under her breath.
In Cynthia’s bedchamber, palace lanterns suddenly lit up one after another. As the patrol knights marched past, the clanking of armor and swords startled countless birds into flight.
Su Zhao looked around. The moonlight was clear, and their figures were concealed by the tall trees. The windows reflected the lamplight of Cynthia’s bedchamber like shattered stars, suspended between the two of them.
Sensing the weirdness in the atmosphere, Evelyn took the initiative to speak, easing the silence. “The materials needed to lift the succubus’s love spell are all stored within the Holy See’s vaults.”
“I’ve already instructed several bishops; when they escort the Crown of Judgment over, they’ll bring the materials you need along with it.”
Su Zhao opened her mouth to express her thanks.
Evelyn paused, locking eyes with her.
“Actually, for these past few days, I’ve been pondering a question.”
Su Zhao looked up at her.
Evelyn’s trailing note was as light as a sigh.
“Perhaps I am simply too dim-witted and unable to be all-knowing like the Holy Lord, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not figure out the answer to this matter.”
Yet her voice remained soft as her fingertips brushed past the hidden invitation letter at Su Zhao’s waist, her gaze sweeping calmly over the lamplight of Cynthia’s palace.
Su Zhao’s earlobes burned slightly; the moonlight stone earrings Cynthia had personally fastened onto her seemed to throb with a dull ache.
“I never knew that all those rumors about you sisters being at odds were entirely false.”
“Her Imperial Highness cares so deeply for you, going so far as to abandon the border conflicts, rush back and forth, and rack her brains just to keep you safe.”
Evelyn was interrogating her. Her expression was faint, but her tone remained even, maintaining that veneer of gentleness.
Abruptly, Evelyn raised a hand, tracing the pale-green veins along the side of Su Zhao’s neck, her thumb pressing against the moonlight stone earring as she slowly stroked the lobe.
“Unloved and unwanted by family?”
The phantom pain in Su Zhao’s earrings suddenly intensified.
“A pitiful, helpless little waif?”
With every question, Evelyn’s tone grew heavier.
Then she laughed.
“Can’t live without me?”
“The tears you shed when speaking of being abandoned by your kin were once like a scorching spark of holy fire that burned its way into my heart.”
The temperature at Evelyn’s fingertips was colder than the night air, exactly like the icicles hidden within her gentle voice right now, piercing through Su Zhao’s meticulously woven lies inch by inch.
“Lies.”
“Deception.”
Evelyn let out a soft laugh, her fingertip hooking her earring and abruptly tightening. Her forehead came to rest against Su Zhao’s.
“And you, my dearest Princess, while speaking those words to me, did you laugh at my foolishness in the bottom of your heart?”