The lobby of the V-Tower smelled like a chaotic mix.
Adult toys, perfume, and the scent of ozone from scorched high-voltage wires.
Everything was blended together.
Everything here was in a state of agitation.
Screens hung from the ceiling and walls, layering advertisements, music, and announcements one over the other until your brain began to throb.
“No!
That color is so tacky!
Change it!”
“Are you a pig?
Who told you to hang that accessory there?
Get out!”
A sharp female voice from the speakers pierced through all the noise, drilling straight into the ears.
Even though she hadn’t appeared in person, her presence was already overwhelming.
Charlie was at the front desk, struggling to explain things to an assistant who looked like they were on the verge of a breakdown.
“We really do have an appointment!
Velvette didn’t answer her phone, so we sent an email.
Could you check again?
This is very important.”
Charlie clutched the invitation she had fished out of the trash can, the smile on her face so stiff it looked like she was undergoing facial muscle rehabilitation.
The assistant rolled their eyes, clearly not taking this Hell Princess in her out-of-season red suit seriously.
“We’re very busy every day, Your Highness.
There are plenty of ‘important’ things.”
Moon sighed.
It seemed they had to resort to something “unconventional” after all.
He stepped forward, casually mussing up Charlie’s clothes and grabbing a discarded silk scarf from a nearby rack, tying it haphazardly around her neck. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
“Tell your boss that if she doesn’t want tomorrow’s headlines to be ‘Hell Princess Cries Over Being Bullied by the Fashion World,’ she’d better see us now,” Moon said with a smile.
His voice wasn’t loud, but his absolute confidence made him impossible to ignore.
The assistant gave him a suspicious look but finally picked up the walkie-talkie.
…
Two minutes later.
An even heavier scent blasted out from the doors.
Expensive perfume, hairspray, and the sweaty stench of anxiety rushed forward.
This was the 36th floor of the V-Tower, the heart of Hell’s fashion, pulsing with the frantic rhythm of “clout.”
Walking beside Moon, Charlie subconsciously shrunk her neck, clearly uncomfortable with this aggressive ostentation.
Her small cocktail dress was also completely out of place here.
Moon looked around, thinking: *The fashion sense in Hell is certainly hellish enough.*
The two outsiders were like sheep wandering into a wolf pack, causing a stir.
Someone passed by them, and without stopping their pace, they tossed a snide comment over their shoulder.
“Oh, look, it’s our Princess.”
A few muffled laughs broke out in the surroundings.
Charlie’s palms were sweating, and she instinctively grabbed Moon’s sleeve.
“Re-relax, Moon.
The people here…
they all have a lot of personality.”
She even tried to comfort Moon.
Moon didn’t reply, simply leading her further in.
In the center of this chaos, there was a single point of stillness.
Velvette. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
In person, she looked even more vibrant than her animated image.
Her red-and-black curly hair was tied into two high pigtails that swayed gently as she scrolled through her phone.
She wore an asymmetrically cut jacket paired with graffiti cargo pants and metallic studded platform boots.
She sat in a director’s chair, her fingers sliding across the screen of the latest smartphone so fast they almost left afterimages.
Without even looking up, she spoke to the assistant in front of her, who was nearly in tears, in a tone of extreme impatience.
“Are you a pig?
I said ‘Shocking Barbie Pink,’ not this garbage pink!
Get out!
Change it!”
The assistant scrambled away.
Charlie took a deep breath and nervously tugged at her tie—the one Vaggie had specifically picked for her this morning, insisting it made her look more the part.
“Okay, I’m going in,” she whispered to herself.
She took a stiff step forward.
“Hi!
Velvette!
It’s me!
Char—whoa!!!!”
Before she could finish, she tripped over a thick, exposed cable on the floor.
Under the bewildered gazes of the staff, she stumbled over her own feet, lunged toward Velvette, and landed right in the Overlord’s lap.
The surroundings fell silent instantly.
The scrolling on Velvette’s phone stopped.
She slowly shifted her gaze from the screen and looked down.
There were no pupils in those red eyes, only two white horizontal bars, which were currently broadcasting the emotion: *Are you fucking kidding me?*
“Seriously?”