Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

No one opened the door for her.

Matilda walked straight to the end of the corridor. She remembered that the man who had chatted with her before, wearing a round hat and round black sunglasses, lived here.

That's all she remembered.

The girl, with tears on her face, stood at the door in panic and rang the doorbell.

jingle--

"Please..."

'Please save me.'

She said silently, her dark brown pupils sinking into the bottom of the lake of tears.

However, there was no one in the house.

jingle--

After about ten seconds, she felt the gunmen behind her start talking to each other in low voices, and then there was a clear sound of leather shoes gradually stepping on the spot, and then slowly walking towards her...

He is coming——!

'Please... open the door.'

jingle.

No one responded.

Matilda nearly crumpled her lunch bag.

Will she get shot in the head?

Father…what on earth did father do.

Why, why is life so hard?

Just as the sound of leather shoes was getting closer, the door of the next door opened.

In Matilda's ears, this sound was no less than salvation from God - I hope so, does God like to eat junk food?

Matilda looked away.

The person who opened the door was a woman.

how to say…

Stunning.

The woman was wearing a thin black veil, with blue-purple lips and raised eyeliner; her long, jet-black hair was tied up in a noblewoman's hairstyle at the back of her head, with an exquisite wooden folding fan inserted in it.

Like some big-name actor in a theater.

The curves of her exposed thighs and calves were perfect, her toes were raised seductively, and a strand of black hair fell from her forehead. The woman pushed open the door, leaned against the door frame, and glanced behind Matilda with a half-smile.

Then, he spoke to her very gently.

"My dear, you just like to run around while I'm serving people." Her voice seemed to be full of hooks, scratching the most itchy part of people's hearts. It's hard not to think of a certain profession - after all, in this building, all the women with enchanting makeup are engaged in the same industry.

She covered her mouth lazily and yawned:

"The first half is over. You arrived just in time."

"What are you waiting for? Are you planning to let me enjoy my lunch in the corridor?"

The cold winter thawed in an instant as her cold eyes curved. The woman looked at Matilda quietly, and seeing the tearful girl's pleading eyes, she hooked her index finger at her.

"Hurry up, my dear master can't wait."

The sound of leather shoes behind me paused, then turned around and faded away again.

Matilda thanked her silently.

"Thank you, thank you..."

The woman didn't respond, but put her arm around the girl's shoulders and led her into the house.

Then he slammed the door shut.

Chapter 19 Wonderland in the Slums

Matilda could never have imagined that in this shabby and rotten area where scum gathered, the residents of an ordinary apartment could have such luxury.

She was like a person who had never seen the world, being pushed into the house by the woman, holding a still-warm fast food paper bag. Her dirty boots stepped on the carpet, and there were strings of tassel-like gems hanging from the ceiling above her head.

There were many things in the room that looked expensive—if they were real. Women's high-heeled shoes were stacked up like an exhibition, stretching up to the height of one wall. Another wall was covered with gemstones of various colors.

For example, bracelets, rings, earrings, and hairpins.

This room had been remodeled. The ceiling, which used to drip from time to time, was reinforced again. Some method was used to fix the visible pipes, and the rusty and disgusting metal was no longer visible. The yellowed old wooden strips were replaced with marble and neat unknown wooden boards. There was even a pattern carved on the fireplace that he couldn't understand.

She felt like she had walked into a house in a fairy tale.

Candy, gold, gems, and...

A girl in the middle of the carpet eating a big bag of potato chips.

The girl didn't look much older than her, maybe because she had an oriental face; her thick black hair fell from her shoulders to the carpet, connecting with a crimson pattern; she was wearing loose pajamas, with her legs crossed, her toes moving restlessly.

Certain features are striking.

She was looking at herself with her head tilted.

"Hi." She said with a smile: "I'm Mori Yuesha."

"what's your name?"

When she raised her head, Matilda finally got a good look at the other person's face.

So…beautiful.

Just like a fairy from a real fairy tale.

The corners of her eyes drooped slightly, just slightly, but if you look closely you can still see it - this is a lovable angle. Matilda thought, after listening to her mother talking to those strange men, a woman's pitiful appearance starts with her eyes.

There is a teardrop mole at the corner of her eye, which makes her originally delicate appearance more mature and charming - the contrast is even more obvious on her childish face.

She has a very thin neck and a terribly thin waist, which just highlights the two areas above and below the waist where fat should be.

Her figure is just like the leading woman in the fitness programs my sister often watches.

Even better than those women's.

Her face was small, and her hands were small, too, with tender green paint on her slender fingertips.

Squeezing potato chips.

Matilda stared at her blankly, and the maid beside her was very satisfied with her surprise.

"Hello?"

The girl spoke again.

"I'm Mori Tsukisa."

Matilda scribbled and wiped the corner of her eyes: "Matilda. My name is Matilda, ma'am, thank you..."

"Well, it's just a piece of cake." The girl stood up from the carpet very familiarly, ran over, grabbed her hand, and led her to where she had just sat. "Please sit down."

Matilda looked at the carpet and then at her dirty boots.

"It's okay, just buy a new one." Mori Yuesha said nonchalantly.

She just wanted to say that she would wash the girl herself...

He sat down with his legs bent and handed the paper bag to the maid, and the coldness he had just felt was finally dispelled.

The soul returned to Matilda's body again.

"Your father seems to be dead?" Mori Yuesha said bluntly, handing her the potato chips in her hand: "I heard gunshots and screams. Your mother, probably...oh, there are others, I think you are the only one left."

Father?

Matilda touched her arm, which still felt stinging, with an unfathomable look on her face: "If he doesn't die, I might kill him one day." She carefully reached into the bag and pinched out a potato chip.

"Eat, eat." Mori Yuesha simply stuffed the bag of potato chips into her arms.

"Do you have any other family members? I mean, anyone outside that I can rely on?"

Matilda pursed her lips and shook her head.

"Oh. That's a shame."

"I..." Matilda fiddled with her necklace twice. The metal sun pendant was still there. "I wanted to knock on another door."

Another door, the door of someone she had met once.

"I know, I know. He's not here today."

Mori Yuesha seemed to understand. As she was talking, the extremely charming woman came with a tray, knelt on the carpet and brought a teapot and cups to her and Mori Yuesha.

It looks like…

Like a maid?

"Nagini is a maid, why doesn't she look like one?"

It really doesn't look like it.

From the moment she entered the house, everything around her overturned the girl's imagination - the woman who looked more seductive than the sexiest movie star was just a maid; the strange, extremely developed and perfect-looking girl was actually her master; the house was filled with jewels and expensive decorations in the shabby slum where murders seemed to happen every week.

And that closet full of high heels.

The girl knew several of the brands, and she occasionally spent an entire afternoon lying in front of the glass just to admire the pair of shoes that she could never afford.

Now it sits in a cabinet in the hallway and doesn’t look that special anymore.

If Matilda hadn't seen its price tag.

"Thank you..." Matilda held the silver-inlaid teacup, rubbed the sapphire on the outside of the cup with her fingertips, and thanked again: "Thank you for saving me. I will leave as soon as possible and will never cause any trouble to you and your...maid."

"No big deal, Dada." Mori Yuesha sipped the drink twice, as if she didn't take those casual murderers seriously at all. "We're moving away soon too, if you don't have anyone to rely on, just follow me for the time being."

"Meeting is destiny, and interesting accidents are inevitable during travel."

When it comes to moving away, this blooming and charming girl is full of complaints, although Matilda can't understand what she is saying at all.

"You baldhead, you stinky sister. I knew it was up to no good. She said something like 'Master's disciple has a 'great' house here - I hope you can play the role of host and stay in the arranged house', but it's such a shabby place!! She's taking revenge! It's definitely revenge!"

“I’m so pissed off! There’s not even a bathroom!”

Maybe someone played a malicious joke on this rich lady? Matilda thought for a moment and said, "There is a bathroom... There is a bathroom."

At least there is enough space for a freestanding bathtub.

The one who answered was the maid.

She knelt on the carpet and filled the tea cups for Mori Yuesha and her: "The bathroom that the master is talking about is not the same as what you are talking about, little one." The maid looked at Matilda with cold eyebrows and eyes but gentle tone.

She looked around and smiled softly: "Everything here -" She meant including the bedroom, living room, hallway, washroom, etc.: "Everything, it's not even half the size of the master bathroom."

Matilda, who was still immersed in the grief of the death of her loved ones, was finally so angry that she rolled her eyes at Nagini's words.

The expression is much more lively than before.

Chapter 20 Subtle request for help

"Well, rich people."

For girls who grow up and live in slums, the most common word they hear is "rich people" -

'That's what rich people do.'

'Rich people don't do that.'

'Rich people have already calculated it.'