Before Yennefer could stuff Max’s ears with any more compliments, Zerena hurried him straight out of the shop.

The timing was unfortunate.

He’d been only moments away from reaching a conclusion on the extremely important scientific question of whose breasts were actually bigger.

Loose clothing remained the greatest enemy of objective research.

"Don’t let anything that old hag said get into your head," Zerena warned as they walked. "She was obviously just trying to inflate your ego. Don’t believe the words of dirty old bitches like her."

Max nodded obediently.

Internally, however, he couldn’t help feeling the statement was a little unfair.

’You’re old too...and bitch.’

He wisely kept that observation to himself.

Self-preservation remained one of the few instincts his brain occasionally remembered to activate.

As for the dirty part...

He honestly wasn’t seeing it.

If anything, the opposite seemed true.

He genuinely couldn’t think of a single part of either woman’s body that he wouldn’t be willing to lick.

"Looks like Annalisa already headed back to the city after dropping everything off," Zerena said.

She led Max through the quieter streets toward the edge of town before stopping in front of a modest two-story building.

The entire ground floor was dominated by a large metal shutter, with a reinforced door set into the wall beside it.

Zerena pressed her thumb against the fingerprint scanner mounted next to the frame.

A soft beep sounded, followed by the click of several locks disengaging.

As the door swung open, she glanced back at him.

"Remind me tomorrow morning to add your fingerprints too," she said. "It’ll save me from having to let you in every time."

Max nodded and stepped inside, curiosity immediately taking over.

The interior opened into a spacious workshop. Shelves packed with books lined several of the walls, while unfamiliar instruments and strange-looking machines occupied benches throughout the room. Max had absolutely no idea what half of them were supposed to do.

Papers covered nearly every table, some stacked neatly, others scattered in what looked suspiciously like organized chaos. Several study boards stood against the walls, covered in runes, notes, and hastily scribbled diagrams.

A number of large wooden crates still sat unopened in the middle of the room.

"That’ll be our main workspace for brewing potions," Zerena said, gesturing around the laboratory. "Though it could use a bit of cleaning first."

She didn’t stop walking, already heading upstairs.

"And the first floor is the living area," she added over her shoulder.

Max followed her upstairs.

Unfortunately, his eyes once again demonstrated a complete inability to behave themselves.

His gaze settled squarely on her backside as she climbed the steps ahead of him.

The temptation to reach out and give it a single squeeze briefly crossed his mind.

Just one.

His hand even twitched ever so slightly before the survival-oriented portion of his brain finally intervened.

Too risky.

If one reckless squeeze ended with Zerena banning him from ever touching it again, the long-term losses would vastly outweigh the short-term gains.

Reluctantly, he kept his hands to himself.

That didn’t stop his eyes, however.

Instead, they busied themselves trying to determine where the outline of her panties lay beneath the dress.

Unfortunately, the fabric proved surprisingly uncooperative.

Her dress itself was fairly simple.

Made from soft, pale-green cotton, it looked designed for a woman with a slender frame. The fabric hugged her hips and backside closely enough to reveal the faint outline beneath whenever she moved, while subtle folds formed around her thighs as she climbed the stairs, the hem ending just above her knees.

The sleeveless design left her arms completely bare.

Compared to the generous curves of her figure, they looked surprisingly slender, creating a contrast that somehow made the rest of her body stand out even more.

’One day...’ Max silently promised himself. ’that butt’s gonna stop being premium locked content.’

Max’s eyes followed Zerena as she walked into the living room.

She switched on the lights one by one before dropping the bag she’d been carrying onto the bed with a long, tired sigh. A moment later, she turned on the air conditioner.

It looked considerably better than the ancient relic back at the apartment.

Though only considerably.

It still carried the unmistakable appearance of a machine that had already survived several owners and was now stubbornly refusing retirement.

Meanwhile, Max was still hauling the rest of their things inside.

None of the boxes were particularly heavy.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop his arms from filing formal complaints after carrying them all the way from the taxi.

’So this is what unpaid labor feels like...’

One by one, he set the boxes down beside the dining table.

Finally.

He glanced toward one of the two chairs around the tiny dining table.

Salvation.

He had barely started pulling it out when Zerena’s voice arrived with impeccable timing.

"Don’t sit," she said without even looking at him. "Didn’t I tell you the laboratory needs cleaning? Go do it."

Max slowly turned his head toward her.

He stared.

She stared back.

Neither of them said anything for several long seconds.

’Fucking bitch...’

The complaint remained safely inside his head.

Then, with the quiet determination of a man who had decided civil disobedience was his only remaining option, Max sat down anyway.

"In a minute," Max said, making absolutely no attempt to move.

Zerena looked over.

Then she glared at him.

Max simply smiled back.

"Just let the sweat dry first..."

"You’re just going to get sweaty again," she replied flatly.

She pointed toward the refrigerator.

"Go clean the lab first. You can rest afterward."

Then, gesturing toward several empty water bottles sitting beside the sink, she added,

"And on your way, fill those up and put them in the fridge."

Max opened his mouth, fully intending to argue again.

Then he thought better of it.

Once a day was already a decent compromise.

Pushing his luck before he’d secured better working conditions felt strategically unsound.

Looking thoroughly unamused, he got to his feet and headed toward the sink.

Unfortunately, his irritation hadn’t even finished settling in before Zerena spoke again.

Having already stretched out comfortably on the bed, she waved a lazy hand in his direction.

"Oh—and wash the bottles before you fill them," she added. "It’s been a long time since I’ve been down here."

Max froze.

Very slowly, he turned his head to look at her.

She had already made herself comfortable.

’...Unbelievable.’

She’d somehow managed to outsource an extra chore while lying down.

’I can’t wait until it’s my turn to start ordering her around...’

The thought alone brought a wide grin to his face.

As the cleaning Max planned to make Zerena do later wouldn’t require a bucket, a mop, or much water at all. Saliva and tounge would probably do most of the heavy lifting.