"Oh-ho!"

Firelight dyed the sky over the amusement park red as debris fell like meteors, only to be extinguished against a transparent barrier.

The people inside the park had all stopped to watch the spectacular scene. Cries of amazement and admiration rose one after another as they assumed this too was just another attraction in the strange new park.

Elsewhere, Pink Bear and Parls had already begun clapping in excitement.

"Hand-holding successful!"

"Come on, come on, pop the champagne, pop the champagne!"

Now that he was no longer constrained on all sides, Pink Bear had been much more extravagant lately. He no longer lived the stingy little life he used to, to the point of having to hide even a cheap cigar to smoke it. At once, he pulled out the fine champagne he had just bought, shook it vigorously, and sent the wine and foam spraying into the sky, where it glittered against the flaming wreckage falling from above.

And set against that backdrop, the two figures tightly clasping each other’s hands looked so beautiful, as though the moment might continue forever.

"Look at that, look at that. So what if her heart is iron? So what if he used to be the person she hated most? Under our heart-throbbing strategy, didn’t she still turn soft and delicate in the end?"

Pink Bear was extremely satisfied with the result. Sure enough, if you wanted feelings to deepen in a short amount of time, you needed reliable professionals to step in.

That kid Muen had some admirable points, but his style was just too gentlemanly. He didn’t understand that girls sometimes preferred a stronger hand.

After all, if you don’t have some hard, massive flashpoint to shake things up, what exactly are you using to rattle someone’s heart?

Pink Bear’s years of experience had not been for nothing. Did they really think all he knew how to do was read dirty books?

"As expected of Sir Oranriel. That magic control was precise to the second without a single tremor. It’s truly admirable," Parls praised.

"It was only because your analysis was so spot-on, Godfather, that I was able to think of this method."

"No, no, it was all thanks to your brilliance and wisdom. I merely offered a tiny, insignificant bit of theory. Practice is what matters most."

"You flatter me, you flatter me..."

"No, no, only the truth..."

"Not at all, not at all..."

"Too modest, too modest..."

"..."

After another round of mutual praise, Parls stroked his stubble and finally resumed his serious analysis.

"Things are going very smoothly. But to me, doesn’t it seem a little too smooth?"

"Oh? Why do you say that?" Pink Bear asked curiously.

"A miserable childhood, lack of love, a strong inner core, hatred of men, hatred of nobles... Taken separately, none of those would be especially difficult. But as I said before, when all of them are combined, it becomes extremely troublesome. Not to mention..."

She was also into women.

To be honest, when he had learned that piece of intelligence, even he, the Godfather of Love himself, had blanked out for a moment and had no idea where to begin.

He had thought it was already hell difficulty, but it turned out it wasn’t even in the same world.

After all, if the orientation itself didn’t match, how were you supposed to win her over?

But now...

Parls looked up at the two figures pressed close together and realized that Miss Ariel—the one described in the reports as hating men, hating nobles, hating playboys, and hating Muen Campbell most of all—not only had not struck back, she had not even made a token gesture to show displeasure...

At this point, even the character setup was starting to fall apart.

So Parls could not help asking in confusion, "Could it really be that everything is much simpler than I imagined?"

"Heh, who knows?"

Pink Bear grinned, swaying the champagne bottle in his hand as he said meaningfully, "Perhaps this story was never the seed that started a bond at all, but the tart fruit that formed naturally after everything had already ripened."

"Tart fruit? Is that so? Then it seems they must have already gone through a great deal together that I know nothing about."

After thinking for a while, Parls sighed again. "And because it’s tart fruit, someone has to help it ripen."

"That’s exactly the idea."

Pink Bear slapped his knee. "As expected of the Godfather of Love. You understand at once. What are we? We are the diligent gardeners guiding that tart fruit toward its final sweet ending. My God, saying it like that, even I’m starting to admire my own noble character!"

"Sir Oranriel’s character is of course noble."

Parls gave a slight nod and followed along without sounding sycophantic.

"Before I came here, I had already heard that this amusement park cost an enormous amount to build, and many of its features had never existed in this world before. Yet for the sake of Young Master Muen’s romance, Sir Oranriel blew it up without hesitation. That kind of resolve and easy grace is truly worthy of admiration."

"Naturally." Pink Bear swayed his head smugly. "Who do you think I am?"

"As expected of you."

Parls looked at Pink Bear with admiration. "Since Sir Oranriel is so eager to help others, and so willing to blow things up with such effortless style, then surely you contributed financially to this amusement park as well. Not only helping others, but paying out of your own pocket too—I think there may not be anyone else in this world as generous and charitable as—"

"Uh..." Pink Bear’s bear face stiffened.

"Right...?" Parls asked stiffly, sensing something was wrong.

"..."

"Right..."

"All right, all right, is it really that important who paid for it?"

Pink Bear resumed an expression of righteous dignity. "Money only makes love vulgar, understand? A true noble gentleman would never care how much he spent on a woman!"

"Sir Oranriel is absolutely right..." Parls wiped away a bead of sweat. He had not expected that even his own fawning skills—the kind that made noblewomen, rich young ladies, and even sixty-year-old female political powerhouses swoon—would nearly fail for once.

He truly had not expected a man of such exalted status in the royal family to be this shameless... So he got to enjoy the show, while the one getting burned was Young Master Muen’s money.

"Right, do you know where they’re headed next?" Setting aside the joy of success for the moment, Pink Bear asked lazily, "Our mission isn’t over yet. Hand-holding alone isn’t enough."

"Next?"

Once the conversation turned to serious matters, Parls immediately perked up, temporarily setting aside those small slanders in his heart. He took out the notes he had just written and began scribbling again.

"If my analysis is correct, given the arrangements Young Master Muen made here and what he intended by them, then after the roller coaster, it must be that place."

"There?"

Pink Bear followed Parls’s gaze. "A good place. Looks like the preparations we made in advance weren’t wrong after all."

"Then I’ll go make preparations."

Parls straightened his back. "According to the plans we worked out earlier, this time we’ll definitely push their relationship another step forward!"

"Go on, then. This round will be the Godfather’s time to shine." Pink Bear patted Parls on the shoulder, his face full of pleased approval.

"I will not fail your expectations!"

Like a general receiving a command flag on the battlefield, Parls gave Pink Bear a grave military salute.

Then he quickly snapped his notebook shut and hurried down a concealed path toward Muen’s next destination. He had to get there before Muen and the others arrived so he could set everything up in time.

"Young people... always so full of energy."

Pink Bear continued sipping champagne at his leisure, his gaze silently following Parls’s retreating back.

His black little bear eyes suddenly became unfathomably deep, though there was no way of knowing what he was thinking.

Until another gaze filled with resentment landed on him as well...

...

...

The fragments finally vanished completely in the firelight, and the howling wind at last came to a stop.

This brilliant performance, dazzling as fireworks, had also been as fleeting as fireworks.

"You all right?"

Muen pulled Ariel back onto the tracks and asked with concern,

"Are you hurt?"

"Do I look that fragile to you?" Ariel curled her lip in disdain. This was only a fake date, and yet this guy really seemed to be treating her like some delicate little beauty.

"True enough. You’re not that fragile."

Muen carefully studied Ariel’s little face. Even after that accident just now, she was still calm, as though that steel frenzy that had nearly killed her had never happened at all. He could not even detect a trace of anger.

From the perspective of someone trying to win her over, that was deeply discouraging. Joy, sorrow, resentment, anger—any emotion at all could be a sign that the defenses around her heart were beginning to crack.

But this kind of utter stillness, this lack of even a ripple, meant that her defenses were still solid and entry was still difficult.

It made Muen start wondering whether a date like this was truly useful to Ariel at all.

Even if it really could make her "heart race," so what?

That kind of racing heart was not the kind of racing heart he wanted. No matter how many times it happened, it would only ever be...

"Hey."

Ariel cut off Muen’s thoughts. "How much longer are we staying up here? I’m not interested in being a monkey for other people to gawk at."

"Oh. Right away."

Muen snapped back to himself, only then remembering that he and Ariel were standing on a high section of track where everyone below could see them clearly.

He quickly bent down, intending to do what he had done before—put his hands around Ariel’s slender waist and carry her down in the "gentlemanly" way that involved the least possible contact.

But at that moment, for some reason, Muen suddenly gave Ariel another serious look.

He looked at her lake-still eyes, at her utterly unruffled expression, at her chest rising and falling not at all... and finally at the hand that was still clasped tightly with his, as though she had temporarily forgotten to let go.

After hesitating for a moment, Muen took the initiative to release Ariel’s hand and instead lifted her by supporting her beneath the arms, carrying her lightly down from the height in a posture that was less offensive, yet still somewhat more intimate than before.

It was a more stable way of bringing her down from a height, and under the circumstances it seemed reasonable enough. But for most girls, being touched around the chest was surely even harder to accept than being touched at the waist—not to mention Ariel, who cared especially about that area.

And yet she still did not resist.

Muen, however, seemed to understand something. His eyes brightened slightly.

...

"You really are willing to go all out."

After landing, Ariel seemed completely unconcerned that Muen’s actions had just grown even more "ambiguous." As always, she folded her arms and admired the steel rain still falling in the distance. "Sure, I said it was a little boring, but it wasn’t so boring that you had to blow the whole thing up. And what does blowing it up even do? Just let me hold your hand a little longer so you can take advantage of the chance to cop a feel?"

"..."

"Hm?"

When Muen did not answer, Ariel turned her head in confusion.

Then she saw Muen pounding the ground with both hands, his face full of grief.

"Damn it, my roller coaster... That thing was one-tenth of my old man’s estate..."

Spending money, whatever.

Spending his old man’s money hurt even less.

But watching a huge pile of money explode like one-time fireworks anyway... even Muen felt his blood pressure shooting upward.

"Oh my."

Ariel immediately brightened.

Not because she was delighted by another person’s suffering, but because the scene felt far too familiar.

Once upon a time, she too had pounded the ground in grief over important money leaving her life. The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming.

Back then it had only been a few thousand in meal money, while Muen had just lost tens of millions.

But in a way, it was fitting. She had suffered because of him, and now he had suffered because of her.

What goes around comes around.

"Mm-hm."

Ariel nodded in an adorably solemn way. "I think I can admit now that this really is a very good way to date."

"..."

Muen whipped his head around, his gaze as sharp as lightning locking onto a certain direction.

Across the noisy crowd, he just happened to spot a certain Pink Bear fumbling frantically to shove the cat mascot head back on.

Of course. This bastard again!

In all of Belrand, aside from that old bastard being so bored out of his skull that he would trot all the way over just to meddle in someone else’s date, there was probably no one else who would do something like this!

Muen was furious. If he were not in the middle of a date right now, he would have rushed over and beaten the hell out of that bastard with a wild flurry of punches.

No. On second thought, wild punches would not do much against a guy with skin that thick.

Muen quickly calmed down.

Violence could not solve problems, especially not with this kind of top-tier powerhouse whose skin and strength both stood at the peak of the continent.

To deal with someone like that, only genuine feeling could move him. For example...

After the date was over, he could go have a nice talk with the former Saintess, sincerely and earnestly recount how many dirty books that bastard had hidden over the years, and how much money he had poured into Belrand’s black market just to buy those photo collections.

He could patiently help the Saintess calculate what an astonishing sum that flow of money would have been if used for something worthwhile.

And of course, after that conversation, he would add that between lovers, they should stay calm and not damage their relationship.

Surely by then, Pink Bear would be deeply moved by his sincerity and kindness.

"Let’s go."

After imagining ten thousand different ways Pink Bear could die, Muen took a deep breath and dragged his attention back to the present.

Pink Bear’s matter could be dealt with later. But the story between him and her was not over yet.

"To the next date spot."

... 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

...

"What is this place?"

Though the weather had been bright and gentle just a moment ago, the atmosphere had suddenly turned eerie.

Ariel looked up in confusion, her eyes reflecting that strangely shaped building—something like the gaping maw of a monster waiting for foolish prey to throw themselves inside.

"A haunted house."

"A haunted house?"

"It’s a mansion once inhabited by evil spirits. I brought it here so we could explore it together." The beam of Muen’s Light Spell shone upward from below like a flashlight as he deliberately put on a frightening expression. "According to the rumors, no little lamb who enters this place has ever escaped alive."

"Really?" Ariel arched a brow.

"Of course," Muen answered.

He was not lying. After all, he and Ariel were the first pair to enter this place.

That said, the haunted house definitely had just a tiny little bit of technology added to it—technology from this world. For instance, that creepy chill in the air... was actually caused by a cooling spell array buried deep underground.

But Ariel definitely would not notice that right now.

"Then let’s go in."

"Mm."

Muen and Ariel entered the haunted house one after the other.

Darkness immediately closed in on them. To suit the sinister atmosphere, there was not even a trace of candlelight anywhere in the haunted house. Only the faintest slivers of light filtered in through cracks in the old windows, nowhere near enough to illuminate the interior.

"It’s this dark?"

Ariel frowned. "Can’t you use your Light Spell?"

"Absolutely not."

Muen had already put away the light from before.

"A place like this is only fun when it’s dark, right?"

"Dark..."

Ariel’s gaze turned wary again. "You’re not planning to—"

"I already told you, I wouldn’t—"

"All right, all right, I’m joking. I trust you."

Ariel stepped a little closer. "So what do we do now?"

"What do we do next?"

"It’s so dark in here, and I don’t have night vision right now," Ariel said very naturally. "What if we get separated?"

"I see..."

After a moment’s thought, Muen asked tentatively, "Can I hold onto you?"

"No. You’re trying to take advantage of me again." Ariel gave a cold snort.

"Not your hand. Just your wrist," Muen said seriously. "It can’t be helped, can it?"

"My wrist..."

Ariel pondered seriously for a while, seeming somewhat hesitant.

But on second thought, it was only her wrist. That was not an overly intimate gesture. She had nothing to feel guilty about.

And Muen was right. It could not really be helped.

"Fine."

Ariel held out her fair, slender wrist.

Muen smiled faintly and gently took hold of that pale, smooth wrist, equally delicate and slender.

The sheer lace trimming the cuff of her sleeve brushed across the back of his hand, making his hand itch and his heart itch too.

The two of them continued forward carefully.

The haunted house had been modeled after a famous old mansion, complete with the standard long corridor of an imperial noble estate, though this one was much narrower and much more dilapidated. The floor and walls were riddled everywhere with pitch-black holes.

To avoid those holes, Ariel had to stay close to Muen. At the same time, though, she was also observing the surroundings.

Before coming in, she had read the simple introduction posted at the entrance to the haunted house. It said that this was an ancient mansion from several hundred years ago. The mistress of the house had been ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) cruelly murdered by her husband and his lover, her body cut into exactly eighteen pieces and buried throughout the estate.

The murdered mistress’s resentment had not dispersed, and by chance she had been empowered by a mysterious relic. She returned as a vicious spirit, killed everyone in the mansion—including her husband and his lover—and turned them all into undead monsters, their souls forever unable to return to the embrace of the Goddess.

So if one wanted to escape from here, the likely standard route was to survive being hunted by the mistress and all those undead monsters, then find the mysterious relic and destroy it.

It actually sounded pretty good. Simple and direct, without too many twists and turns. And if Ariel had guessed correctly, there was probably also a hidden ending where you collected all the mistress’s body parts and used them to move the final boss.

The story was good, and the horror atmosphere had been crafted extremely well. It was obvious how much effort Muen had put into it.

But there was one problem...

Ariel’s gaze swept around her, then landed on a painting hanging on the wall.

It depicted a fair-skinned, beautiful woman with a sorrowful expression.

At first glance there was nothing special about the painting. There were many such portraits hanging along both sides of the corridor, all previous masters of the estate, exactly the sort of decor favored by narcissistic old nobles.

But the moment Ariel’s eyes passed over it, she sharply sensed that the painting’s eyes had moved.

As though a grudge-filled ghost had possessed the portrait and was secretly peering out at them, these unwelcome intruders.

Yet when Ariel looked at it closely, the painting showed no trace of anything unusual, as though what she had just seen had been only an illusion.

But that sinister feeling of having been watched for a brief instant was already beginning to crawl over her skin like maggots.

An ordinary person would probably have already been frightened enough to sink completely into the mansion’s horror atmosphere.

But Ariel thought about it for a moment.

"**."

She stared at the painting and said,

"Try looking at me like that one more time."