Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

Mata Hari, standing beside him, looked concerned.

"Why don't you go and take a look?"

"No! I'm not sick!"

Upon hearing this, Samael, almost on the verge of a stress response, immediately shook his head vigorously and resolutely refused.

After tonight's experience, he would never go to that berserk head nurse's clinic again.

At worst, I'll just avoid that woman from now on!

A vague unease in his heart made Samael make up his mind and secretly resolve to act.

Uneasy, Mata Hari had no choice but to settle for second best.

"Okay then, on our way back, let's buy some ointment to reduce swelling and bruising, and some medicine to treat colds at the nearby pharmacy. I think they still have some."

Samael couldn't refuse this pure kindness repeatedly, so he nodded in agreement and then looked around.

"Where do we go next? The pharmacy?"

"Since we're already here, let's get the ordered clothes made as soon as possible."

Mata Hari pointed to an antique-style Japanese sliding door in front of her, offering a helpless reminder.

Oh, right, I think I came here to get a uniform.

Samael, who was almost driven mad by the berserk head nurse, realized the real purpose of his trip. Looking at the destination he had somehow arrived at, he was both amused and exasperated.

However, it seems that Nightingale ruined her luck.

As Samael entered the clothing store, he found the door tightly shut. A piece of paper pasted on the door had a few lines of neat Japanese characters written on it.

"The shop owner is out purchasing materials. Please come back tomorrow. We apologize for any inconvenience."

"It seems like she's not home..."

As Mata Hari approached, her gaze swept over the contents of the paper, and she felt a sense of helplessness.

Samael had no intention of getting any work clothes for free, so he didn't think much of it.

"How about we come back tomorrow?"

"Alright, the sun is almost setting, it would be troublesome to go back any later."

"trouble?"

"This city has two completely different states during the day and at night. Heroic Spirits are forbidden from going out. If they violate the ban, they will be targeted by the Black Warriors and the Seven Riders."

Mata Hari looked up at the setting sun, which was gradually being swallowed by the horizon, and answered in a deep voice, her expression somewhat solemn.

Upon hearing this, Samael's heart stirred. He feigned incomprehension and asked the question that had been bothering him.

"why?"

"According to that 'general' and the shogunate, we will be contaminated at night..."

Mata Hari answered in a deep voice, a serious look in her eyes.

pollute?

Samael looked up at the setting sun, feeling a chill that seemed to be gradually intensifying in the air, and seemed lost in thought.

At this moment, seemingly realizing that the topic was somewhat heavy, Mata Hari chuckled and added.

"However, you humans don't have such requirements. As long as you don't leave the city or go outside the safe zone of the barrier, there won't be any problems."

Samael gazed at the city's outskirts gradually disappearing into the twilight, his expression unchanged, but his eyes gleaming inwardly.

I spent a day and a night exploring this singularity, but I didn't solve many of my doubts; in fact, the mysteries in my heart seemed to have multiplied.

As expected of a place where even that dead fox crashed, it is indeed quite unusual.

With the sun about to set, Mata Hari gave another reminder.

"Let's go, let's check the time, we need to head back quickly."

Samael snapped out of his reverie, nodded in agreement, and quickened his pace to catch up with Mata Hari.

With their intentional speed increase, they bought the ointment in just half an hour and successfully completed the entire journey before sunset, returning to the Golden Deer Bar.

Considering that she would be busy during the day tomorrow and might not be able to get away, Mata Hari gave the shipping order to her new colleague and suggested that he pick it up at noon, in case the clothing store was closed again in the evening for some other reason.

Since he already knew the route, Samael didn't pay much attention.

Mata Hari, who was unable to help, was quite bothered by this.

"How about I apply the medicine for you later?"

"No need, I can do it myself! Really!"

Samael shook his head repeatedly, forcing a smile as he politely declined.

Just kidding, how am I supposed to help? Do you really have to take my pants off?

Rejected again, Mata Hari was somewhat disappointed and lowered her head, seemingly lost in thought.

As night gradually fell outside the window, Samael politely said goodbye and went into his bedroom.

After entering the room, Samael could no longer hold on. He sat upright on the bed, his legs stiffly spread apart, and a trace of pain on his face.

The bird's nest had just been destroyed and it hadn't had a chance to rest. It had been running and jumping all the way, and even an iron man couldn't withstand such an ordeal.

Moreover, at night, some latent force and rules in this world seem to invisibly suppress his regeneration and self-healing.

This made Samael even more annoyed.

How about we try some medication to help?

As a dull ache throbbed in his lower body, Samael gasped for breath and couldn't resist picking up the ointment on the table and unscrewing the cap.

However, just as he pulled down his pants, there was a knock on the door, and Mata Hari's voice came from the hallway.

"have you slept?"

"not yet……"

Samael pulled up his trousers, opened the door, and with a forced smile, welcomed his enthusiastic new colleague into the house.

As Mata Hari entered, she was thoughtfully served a bowl of hot porridge and several side dishes.

They've been so busy that, apart from drinks, they haven't had a proper dinner yet.

Heroic spirits may have lower food requirements, but humans are often more concerned about this aspect.

Unable to refuse her hospitality, Samael had no choice but to pick up his bowl and chopsticks and eat under Mata Hari's watchful gaze.

As the atmosphere in the bedroom grew more harmonious, Mata Hari couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She lowered her hands, which were gripping the hem of her clothes, hesitated for a moment, and then looked at Samael somewhat awkwardly before speaking.

"I wasn't much of a help this time, and I almost hurt you again. To express my apologies, how about I dance for you?"

Clearly, she was still upset that she couldn't help and wanted to do something, directly or indirectly, to make amends.

The problem is, he really doesn't need it.

Having just shaken off that angel in white, Samuelton has run into another persistent woman, giving him a headache.

"Besides dancing, I really don't have any other talents..."

Mata Hari glanced at the night outside the window, her tone somber, a hint of melancholy flashing in her eyes.

She was a useless heroic spirit, only able to exist by relying on others. If it weren't for the big sister taking her in back then, she probably would have disappeared long ago.

Although she had always wanted to help and increase the bar's popularity, the bar owner wouldn't allow her to attract customers in this way.

But apart from this, I really don't know what else I can do for the people around me.

"Is this a welcome ceremony? Then I'll have to watch it closely."

A voice filled with surprise and anticipation came from the other side, and a pair of deep, beautiful black eyes smiled as they looked her over.

"Stay tuned for my performance!"

Mata Hari, who had been feeling a bit down, suddenly perked up. Standing in the open space of the bedroom, she bent over and assumed a starting position, displaying her alluring dance moves to the fullest.

Soon after, Samael, who was in the audience, regretted his decision so much that he grinned from ear to ear.

It's not that Mata Hari's dancing was too rough to watch.

On the contrary, this famous spy, who started as a dancer, has an amazing talent for dancing, and his various complex and exquisite dance moves are dazzling.

Wrapped only in a tube top and a waistband, she swayed her slender waist seductively, her alluring curves accentuated by the bed, her eyes sending flirtatious glances.

The dance incorporates movements from the indigenous people of Java, which are both wild and full of primal energy. Every gesture exudes a fatal attraction to men, like a piece of delicious meat placed on a table, making people drool.

Even more devastatingly, as Mata Hari became increasingly engrossed in her dance, her clothing rapidly diminished until she was left with only a thin layer of fabric barely covering her private parts…

What she's doing looks like a striptease, doesn't it?

At this moment, Samael finally understood why Drake had banned Mata Hari from performing on stage.

She's a natural fairy, especially when she's dancing.

Even if it's not intentional flattery or seduction, it will inevitably cause unrest.

Seemingly sensing the audience's reluctance, Mata Hari changed her posture, toned down her movements, and began to dance ballet.

It must be said that this professional dancer is indeed skilled at dancing; she can dance any kind of dance.

But no matter what kind of dance you do, it will eventually become erotic.

Samael's facial muscles were tense, and he tried his best to maintain an elegant smile. His hand, which was resting on his thigh, had already pinched a piece of flesh under his palm until it turned blue.

Even so, the blood and energy in my body still couldn't stop surging towards a certain place.

The wound, which had just begun to heal, was suddenly stinging again.

"Come, please take my hand..."

Gradually, as Mata Hari danced with abandon, she couldn't help but release her repressed nature, enthusiastically taking Samael's hand and gently and passionately inviting him to dance together.

Women are like vines twining around branches, or like water snakes meandering and swimming.

The subtle, almost imperceptible contact between skin, the breaths that come in varying speeds, every movement before one's eyes—all are designed to entice.

Watching that alluring figure darting around him, Samael was in agony. He felt that his battered Unit 2 was about to explode on the spot, unable to control the surging blood flow.

Niu Niu, you've weathered so many storms, you have to hold on!

The ancient serpent silently encouraged itself, determined to fight back.

Finally, the dance ended. Mata Hari stood still, let out a long sigh of relief, then opened her bright eyes, lowered her head and leaned close to her dance partner's ear, gently blowing on it.

"—Thank you. This is the real me now."

That smile was radiant and alluring, yet held a certain profound meaning.

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Chase of the Beautiful Girl

Fifteen minutes later, the scantily clad dancers were led to the corridor, and the door behind them was quickly closed.

Congratulations! You passed the surprise test! And that interesting new colleague...

Hearing the faint sound of a lock being locked from inside, Mata Hari's lips curled into a pleased smile. She then slowly and deliberately put on her light coat, her beautiful eyes sparkling with thoughtful expression.

So, it seems that the eldest sister probably made the first move?

The female spy glanced at the heavily guarded door behind her, covered her mouth and chuckled. She was no longer the pitiful and weak woman she had been in the bedroom. Her eyes were filled with girlish teasing and... a hint of admiration for the opposite sex.

Looking back, she realized that at the very beginning of her life, she was helplessly tripped up.

The father's company went bankrupt, and he kept having affairs.

Her mother, suffering from heart disease and overwork, passed away when she was fourteen.

Her marriage ended in failure due to her husband's violence, alcoholism, and infidelity.

In order to survive, she spent most of her youth moving between various men.

Pleasing them and depending on them has become an inescapable talent since becoming a Heroic Spirit.

During this time, this female spy, who had seen countless people, had already witnessed the true nature of men under the influence of lust.

Therefore, Mata Hari is certainly not a naive little girl; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call her a seasoned and knowledgeable woman.