24

"Very well, Dad. I will draft a Statement of Intent outlining that I will be your sole heir, thereby ensuring that any future children will not have a claim to the Lozero assets. Additionally, in the event of my passing, the assets will be distributed equally among all relatives. Once you have signed this document, we can proceed with the announcement of the engagement."

The room falls into an immediate, tense silence. Ignoring the weight of their stares, I rise gracefully, intent on retreating to my chambers for a much-needed bath.

Just as I take my first step, a firm grip seizes my hand, pulling me backward against a broad chest. Of course, it's Caden. If it weren't for the confounding rules etched in the infernal red rulebook, this entire world would be facing a much different villain. I'd have already obliterated the place—after all, there are no concerns in death, are there? But credit where it's due—the male lead is finally playing his part. This back-to-chest move is... unexpectedly seductive.

"You're being unreasonable, Faye. How can you ask that of Uncle? I know you're upset with me, but trying to complicate things for everyone isn't the solution," his voice, laced with frustration, invades my ear.

Several glaring issues stand out in this moment. First and foremost, why are Faye's parents sitting there, observing their daughter being physically restrained with barely a reaction? Sure, they look a bit shaken, but seriously, are they just going to sit there and do nothing? Secondly, why is Caden's father equally passive, completely ignoring his son's unseemly behavior? And lastly, did Caden not learn anything from the cafeteria incident? Apparently not. But too bad—lessons repeated are always more painful.

"Host! Remember, you are prohibited from killing anyone! If you do, you'll be punished accordingly, and you might not even return to your own world!" The system's endless warnings buzz in my head like a bothersome bee, but I tune them out entirely. Its panic is almost amusing.

Enough of this.

With a sharp intake of breath, I bend my knees slightly, preparing for what's to come. My body leans forward ever so subtly, creating the perfect angle. In one swift motion, I lift my knee, thrusting my foot backward with precision, aiming directly for his groin. A swift, decisive strike.

Caden lets out a strangled gasp, his grip loosening as he stumbles back. His face contorts in pain, eyes wide with shock as he hunches over, his hands instinctively moving to shield the damage. A grimace twists his features, and he's left gasping for air like a fish out of water.

Meanwhile, my parents remain frozen, their expressions wavering between confusion and disbelief. My mother clutches the armrest, her knuckles white, while my father furrows his brow, as if trying to decide whether to intervene or keep pretending this is some bizarre negotiation tactic.

Caden's father, on the other hand, remains conspicuously silent, staring at his son with an unsettling calm as if this were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Though still silent, he has a look in his eyes that sends a chill down my spine. Despite his outward calm, there's a dark storm brewing beneath the surface. I can almost feel the weight of his disappointment—how could his precious son lose to a mere girl? It's written all over his face. He's quiet now, but it's clear Caden will be facing a hell of his own back at home. Too bad for him.

At this, the bee system erupts into uncontainable laughter, its mechanical voice tinged with a disturbingly human glee. "I told you not to kill anyone, but this—this is gold! I wish I could record this and play it on repeat!"

Before I can bask in my triumph, a sharp pain shoots through my knee as it collides with the corner of the coffee table. I stifle a groan, gritting my teeth as a dark bruise forms almost immediately. Perfect. Of course, I end up suffering just when I had the upper hand.

"You've raised your daughter well, Mr. Lozero," Mr. Timewell sneers, sarcasm dripping from every word. It's amusing how he switches from addressing him casually as Keith to the more formal 'Mr. Lozero' in the blink of an eye. Without another glance, he stands abruptly and leaves, conveniently forgetting his son, who's still curled up on the floor, clutching his…family jewels. Charming.

Mr. Lozero looks weary, rubbing his temples as if fighting a growing headache. Mrs. Lozero, ever composed, calls for the family doctor, who promptly arrives to escort a red-faced Caden—though whether his blush is from pain or pure humiliation, it's hard to tell. The doctor leads him out, presumably to check if 'forming blood ties' is still on the table.

One by one, the others file out of the room, until it's just me and the Lozeros. Maybe I should leave them some privacy, perhaps for them to create a more obedient child this time, I prepare to leave. But of course, I'm interrupted. Again.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mr. Lozero's voice booms, finally dropping the facade of the calm, benevolent father. His tone, once measured, is now almost frantic. Across the room, Mrs. Lozero is trying—failing, really—to hide the faintly impressed glint in her eyes from the moment I kicked Caden in his... 'bloodline maker.'

"I still have homework to do, Dad," I respond in my most innocent, naive tone, "and besides, I'm hurt." I gesture to my knee pitifully, where the bruise is already glaring back at me.

"Are you rebelling?" He nearly shouts. "You're worried about homework at a time like this? Do you think you'd have all this luxury without us? You are—"

"Yes," I interject calmly, cutting through his outburst with ease.

"What?" He blinks, thrown off by my sudden interruption. For a moment, confusion flickers across his face.

Old age must be catching up with him. So I repeat, slowly, as though speaking to a child. "Yes, I would still have this luxury without you." I say it with absolute conviction. My life in my original world is proof enough. And this time, I'm not lying. Well, not about this, at least. Besides, I'm far too tired to keep up the pretense of being the original Faye. Let's just say Faye's character development has led her to being... smarter.

Mr. Lozero looks at me, torn between disbelief, frustration, and something bordering on fury. His breathing grows labored, and for a second, I think he's on the verge of having an asthma attack. Mrs. Lozero, ever the doting wife, is by his side, rubbing his back with a practiced motion, though she can't resist throwing a disappointed glance in my direction.

"Get out!" he finally roars, his voice trembling with barely contained anger. "If you're so capable, then leave and don't come back! The Lozero family doesn't need a daughter like you!"

"Husband, please, calm down," Mrs. Lozero soothes him sweetly, playing her part in this little drama perfectly. She turns to me, adopting a softer tone. "Quickly apologize to your father! Where will you go so late at night?"

Their good cop, bad cop routine doesn't escape me. It's almost laughable how predictable they are. Yet their words are something I've been waiting to hear for a long time. After all, it'd be far more convenient to keep an eye on Wilde if I were actually living with him. Of course, this is purely for the sake of keeping the world safe—waking up to Wilde's devastatingly handsome face has absolutely nothing to do with it.