Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

The second and third ones both came from Huggins and Dewey, who had failed to play a role in the previous battle. Their extraordinary characteristics were faint, dry and condensed, just shrunken into a ball, like a child's fist. But judging from the screams they had caused earlier, both of them were more inclined to sharpen their mental side.

The corresponding names are unclear, but it is certain that the former belongs to Sequence 8 and the latter to Sequence 9.

While it had its merits, it fell short of Charlotte's expectations for a good route; it was neither dashing nor stunning, so—

These three are no longer needed.

In contrast, the characteristics that were stripped from Vaughn piqued the girl's interest.

Sequence 8 'Monster' has the ability to modify flesh and blood and proliferate wet eggs, which is a very promising avenue for development. Unfortunately, Vaughn's use of it was too superficial. If Charlotte had been in charge, she would have at least imitated modern machinery or animal organs, such as turbine engines, pistol shrimp, and electric eels.

Of course, the reason for keeping it is more because after being promoted to Arbitrator, a corner of her spiritual ocean was revealed, and her mental strength was significantly expanded.

It's not a fundamental improvement, but rather that parts that were previously hidden have come to the surface.

This also means that, given a suitable host body, she can then differentiate her thoughts and manipulate them—

The second puppet.

Chapter Sixty-Three: Hypotheses and Evil Women

Sunday is a good day. There's nothing you absolutely have to do, no one you absolutely have to see. It's a day worth reminiscing about and full of anticipation. Of course, that's for the well-off.

Eyes squinted, half-awake, weary people, their backs hunched as always, slowly departed from their homes in the dappled sunlight. A ship's horn sounded, and the Mareh district was filled with Tingen citizens arriving from the port and narrow alleyways.

Mareh district is one of the better-off areas in Tingen, and most of the residents are workers with some savings. In this era of boiling steam and swirling black fog, the old system of aristocracy and commoners has long been blurred. Especially in the bustling urban areas, money can hardly measure a person's social class, and they have spontaneously divided themselves into new classes.

Perhaps they still live in poverty. But beneath them lie refugees and homeless people.

Comparing the two, one gains satisfaction and happiness.

Even though Emperor Rothali overthrew the old emperor and established an empire, the distinction between nobles and non-nobles was still written in black and white in the law; it was just that the mountain above their heads had changed again.

This weight and decay continued until the tide of steam engulfed the city and obscured the sky. The laws remained unchanged, but in reality, a new class had already formed—the workers who were like bolts, the laborers who considered themselves middle class, and the proud nobles.

The differences between manual laborers, those who do mental work, and those who enjoy and squander their ancestral wealth are so vast that they differ greatly in their residential areas, social customs, and even their names.

Achieving upward mobility is incredibly difficult. Having experienced the hardships, many lose their will to fight, become completely alienated from the upper class, and look down on the workers below them.

This phenomenon cannot be changed overnight; it stems more from the unspoken rules of society as a whole. Each social class has its own set of rules, which people follow, living distinctly within their own spheres, which are difficult to cross.

It was so orderly that it was pleasing to the eye at first glance, and one could only want to praise it.

And this was the masterpiece of Emperor Rothari, the masterpiece of an empire called Hadings, pitch black, indistinguishable from any light.

Everyone despises the class below them, yet finds it difficult to transcend it, ultimately ending up back where they started.

That is why, in this coastal city, in this city that is as gloomy as eight o'clock in the evening, people who treat everyone equally and are full of hope are so precious.

Fortunately, three beautiful and unique little birds were perched on Miss Watson's shoulder.

"Last night was very fruitful, it will be a delicious morning."

Raising her five fingers to shield her eyes from the rising sun, Charlotte, clutching her leather suitcase, slowly stepped out of the plain white carriage.

The crowds on Wood Street were not dense, and passersby looked up to admire the girl who stood straight as a pine tree and was as graceful as the wind.

She moved with ease and grace, her attire impeccably tailored, her high-top leather boots impeccably tailored, until—

“I’ve come to see Miss McCullough.”

Upon reaching the door, Charlotte slightly bent over, removed her hat, and bowed to the waiters standing on either side.

Following the line of sight, one can see short, silver-gray hair falling down to the neck, and the floral embroidered plaque at the collar fluttering slightly in the breeze.

As mentioned earlier, she took advantage of this free time in the morning to find the little parrot, since everyone had other commitments at other times and it was inconvenient to schedule time with him.

Ambitious women are always like this; they can't stay idle, there's no way around it.

As for the selection and creation of the second puppet, it still needs to be considered. Even though there are still some fragments in the memories of the predecessor, Charlotte has always been meticulous and unwilling to do things hastily.

Whether it's character design or appearance, they should at least match Miss Watson, making the best use of her, or even going a step further.

If the puppet given to her by her mother is a naive young girl, then her idea is to return to her past self and create a beautiful woman who is gentle and noble on the outside, sexy and mature on the inside, and fierce and obsessive on the inside, fitting the path of 'monster'.

Just like the transition from permanent teeth to wisdom teeth, the growth process always involves pain and obscurity.

"Miss, please come in."

Not daring to stop this elegant young woman, the waiter quickly opened the door and welcomed Charlotte into the courtyard.

It has to be said that the little parrot's home is quite large.

Not only does it have a wide lawn and a babbling stream, but the European-style buildings with pointed roofs are also covered with lush ivy, which is exquisite and pleasant, as if carved with a knife.

The only downside was the occasional arguing coming from nearby.

"Melina, you shouldn't associate with those people from the bottom of society anymore! Look at what you think that flower wreath covered in mud is, you actually wore it openly to a gathering of nobles, are you trying to embarrass me?"

“Father, there are no such things as lowly people. So what if it's covered in mud? Even though it's winter, it blooms with flowers that are exceptionally beautiful, unlike any other season. Isn't this a more gorgeous and unique decoration than any lady's hat?”

The emerald mistletoe forms a ring, trembling gently in the breeze, exuding a vibrant energy that seems out of place in this season and this era.

"Enough! Where did you get this? It's a complete disgrace to the McCullough name!"

Through the window lattice, one could vaguely see a bloated middle-aged man pointing angrily at the little parrot's lips and nose.

“I neither sought your approval nor asked for your opinion, Father; it was the first gift that friend gave me.”

Without any compromise, and with her amber eyes widening, the chestnut-haired girl spoke coldly and without flinching.

"Friends? What friends of yours? Those laughable idiots? Or that bunch of cowardly peasants who huddle around like sewer rats?"

“We are no longer the same as them. As the middle class, as the emerging aristocracy, I sent you to university so that you could broaden your horizons, make more connections with the upper class, and ultimately bring honor to the McCullough family!”

With both hands raised, his voice grew increasingly urgent.

"Ha, so-called honor is just marrying me off to some foolish son of a noble family? Father, if the McCullough name is really as respectable as you think, then why do your invitations always linger outside the doors of the upper class? Can't they hear your voice, or see your longing to be part of it?"

"Have your friends ever stood by your side, as they have now, as we face Mr. Bathory's oppression, uttered a single word of dissent or offered a single helping hand?"

Her thin lips gradually tightened, and her pretty eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"You wish you could completely shed that past as a merchant and put on noble blue blood, so that you could become a completely new, decent, good... person."

Melina scoffed and offered her rebuttal, but a hint of bitterness and annoyance flickered in her eyes as she turned away.

“Melina McCullough! How dare you talk back to your father like this? What have you ever done for this family? Do you really think everything you've done is right?”

The veins on his hands, gripping the cane, bulged. Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man took a deep breath and, in a fit of rage, was about to swing it at the unsuspecting little parrot.

only--

boom.

A cane, however, intervened first, steadily stopping the cane before falling back to the silver-haired girl with a dull thud.

"you are?"

Hearing the man's question with suspicion, and meeting the little sparrow's wide eyes, Charlotte straightened her boutonniere and cleared her throat.

"Josephine Watson, Melina's good friend, the giver of this wreath, is also the peasant you mentioned."

She knelt on one knee, bowing with an elegant knightly salute, her straight back slightly bent, her silver-gray hair cascading like silk over her dark blue trench coat.

"No, no, no, how could that be, Your Excellency? It is my daughter's good fortune to have met you."

His previous arrogance vanished, replaced by repeated apologies.

"Thank you for your compliment, but I'm more concerned about what Miss Melina thinks. After all, I just said I wanted to have some tea and go shopping with you. Have you forgotten already? That's really disheartening."

She winked slightly at Melina, her long eyelashes fluttering playfully, a faint smile playing on her lips, utterly captivating.

"Of course it's alright, I remember it very clearly. Although it's not the right time, I still came as invited."

She took the chestnut-haired girl's slender hand in her arms and gently kissed her lips.

It was a kiss.

Chapter Sixty-Four: Bedside Encounters and Invitations (4.5k)

“Um, Miss Watson…”

Perhaps not expecting the girl to kiss its hand so intimately, a shy blush immediately rose on the little parrot's cheeks, and even the disappointment from before was somewhat relieved.

"So this is the generous gift you gave to my daughter. Indeed, a gift is about the sentiment, regardless of its value." With a hearty laugh, like a magnanimous elder, the middle-aged man bowed slightly and apologized.

“I misunderstood, Melina. Why didn’t you explain this lady’s identity to Father so that the misunderstanding could be cleared up in advance? Well, Father apologizes to you. You should have a good talk with this lady and tell her about the McCullough family’s recent situation.”

As if they were two different people, his previous harshness and arrogance vanished, and with a sincere and warm smile, he subtly sized up Charlotte.

Seeing that dignified demeanor, the person couldn't help but nod, a sign of satisfaction.

With such poise and demeanor, she must be the daughter of some prominent family. It seems that Melina is not so disobedient after all. If so, then her beautiful face is still somewhat useful, and there's no need for these mediocre servants to kidnap her to the marriage ball.

"Madam, may I ask where you are from and what your surname is?"

Putting aside his thoughts from earlier, the man asked with undiminished humility, but Charlotte interrupted him with a loud voice.

"Sir, it would be impolite to ask a lady such questions so abruptly."

Snapped.

With a soft sound, the cheap folding fan bought on the street was unfolded, and the goose down at the end trembled slightly, obscuring half of her pretty face, revealing only her clear, mirror-like eyes.

"My name is Josephine Watson, the eldest daughter of Count Eugene, the second in line to the throne, from an ancient clan of the Duchy of Plantagenet, a traveler who has been to many countries, a painter who has held three exhibitions, and incidentally, a bard with a taste for the unusual. Miss Melina should understand my words."

She gently lifted the hem of her dress, her voice cold and languid, her gaze carrying a hint of arrogance, her demeanor tinged with a touch of spoiled pride, deliberately raising her chin—she was more aristocratic than any nobleman.

Of course, both the identity and the story were made up on the spot. Anyway, the Duchy of Plantagenet was in complete chaos, and with the ocean separating them, who could know whether Count Eugène actually existed?

Even if it doesn't exist, it doesn't matter. Anyway, by then, Miss Watson's identity will no longer be necessary.

Completely captivated by the superb acting, the middle-aged man no longer objected, but simply chuckled and gestured for the servant to take Charlotte's suitcase and respectfully deliver it to the inner room.

"So you're a lady from the Duchy of the Golden Flower Kingdom. It's an honor to have you visit. I've heard things haven't been very peaceful there lately. A small town like Tingen is a great place for sightseeing. I'll trouble Melina to give you a tour later."

After giving the little parrot a wink, the man turned and walked away, his gait clearly revealing his smugness and satisfaction, as well as the ugly face of an aristocrat.

Only after he had walked away did Melina let out a soft breath and loosen her clenched fingers.

“Miss Watson, thank you for getting me out of that predicament. Otherwise, I really wouldn’t know how to have a proper conversation with my father.”

"There's no need for thanks between friends. Also, just call me Josephine."

Gone was the arrogance and indifference of before; Charlotte held the former's slender hand with unusual gentleness, their fingers intertwined tightly.

Without resistance, after Watson caught the little parrot glimpsing its foolish attempt to jump over the wall and fall, the little parrot didn't care much about its image in Watson's eyes. After all, caring wouldn't change the fact.

They are indeed friends. Although they haven't known each other for long, they get along extremely well. And as friends, they should be tolerant of each other's minor shortcomings.

“Well, Josephine, is what you just said true? Including Count Eugène, including the heirs to the throne.”

With a hint of probing in her eyes, Melina's feelings were somewhat complicated. Although she had made some guesses, she had not expected Watson to be of such noble status, as if they were from two different worlds.

"Shh, whether it's true or not, it won't affect our friendship. Besides, I remember very clearly, Melina said that all people are equal."

With a slight tilt of her head, one can see her delicate eyebrows and eyes blinking slightly, revealing her focused expression as she exhales a fragrant breath.

I remember it very clearly...

These words struck me to the core. Since being born into this family, no one had ever cared about my words. Whether it was my father or my brothers, they were all mean, cold, and domineering, just like every nobleman I ever saw.

"Then, the posture before?"

"Of course it's fake. This folding fan only cost eight pence. It's just that the seller kindly added some feathers, otherwise it would look too fake."

Setting aside her pretense, Charlotte smiled and denied it, explaining lightly and casually.

"I see. Josephine, you are really cunning. I was almost fooled."

"Cleverness is a more fitting word here, my great writer~"

Laughing and responding to each other, the barriers between them seemed to disappear, and their conversation was incredibly harmonious, like that of close friends who had known each other for a long time.

This is due to her temperament. Unlike the other two little birds, Melina has full confidence and is exceptionally lively and humorous. She can always respond to the girl's teasing at the right time, making the exchange of words smooth and natural.

In other words, a good first impression is the best one. Moreover, Watson's several encounters with her were all helpful, whether it was helping her up when she fell or saving her from being blamed.

As they spoke, the two left the front hall together and stepped onto the long corridor, counting the number of windows along the way.

"This place was set up by my father to maintain his dignity. He almost used up all his accumulated wealth in pursuit of the title of viscount."

Indeed, it is true that moving up a social class will inevitably involve a long period of growing pains.