Chapter 176: Infiltration

Easternmost Branch, Saint Freya Academy, student dormitory area.

A Xing stands in front of a detached villa with a small garden; gray shoulder‑length hair flutters gently in the breeze, and golden eyes, calm and unruffled, scan the surroundings.

They wear dark, movement‑friendly attire, starkly different from the academy uniform, yet at this moment no one is around.

In their mind, Black Curtain Lady's recent orders replay clearly:

Task Log: Infiltrate target Qiana's residence and place the "Heimu doll."

Supplementary note: The target cohabits with three other women (Bronya, Yimei, and Jizi) in an independent villa within Saint Freya Academy.

The current period is the academy's standard class time, and the house is expected to be empty.

Operation begins.

For them, this truly is a simple task.

Compared with the surveillance‑laden Tian Ming Headquarters, here—the student dormitory of Saint Freya Academy—defenses are virtually nonexistent.

There is no Barrier, no complex biometric Lock, only an ordinary solid wooden door.

A Xing steps forward, pulls a slender probe from the coat pocket—one of the tricks they "learned" from a "enthusiastic" technician at Beloberg.

They insert the probe into the Lock's keyhole, feeling a faint vibration at the fingertips.

Only five seconds pass.

Clack.

With a light sound, the door lock yields and springs open.

They push the door open, slip inside, then gently close the door behind them without any extra noise.

The interior is spacious and bright, with a palpable sense of daily life.

The living room is tidy yet dotted with casually scattered personal items: a white coat draped over the sofa, a few textbooks and a game console on the coffee table.

A Xing's gaze darts quickly, confirming no one is home.

Good, matches the intel—the target and cohabitants are currently in teaching or training zones.

Their attention is drawn to a transparent glass cup on the table.

The cup holds more than half a cup of thick green liquid.

(Hydration.)

A Xing quickly makes a judgment.

Executing the task requires maintaining the body in optimal condition.

They walk over, lift the cup, and without hesitation tilt back to gulp a large mouthful.

…

In the next instant, the usually expressionless face shows a rare fluctuation.

Pfft—!

An overwhelmingly domineering bitterness erupts on the tongue, then swiftly sweeps the entire mouth, even charging straight toward the Heavenly Spirit Dome.

A Xing's brows knit tightly, the face wrinkling like a child who just learned to eat a lemon.

They force themselves not to spit it out, but facial control is completely lost.

"What is this… so bitter!"

They lower their voice, hurriedly place the cup back on the table, as if it were some biochemical weapon.

Without hesitation, they pour out the remaining liquid.

On the other side of the table, a comic book with a garishly green cover catches their eye.

They pick it up and flip through; inside are exaggerated adventure panels of a strange creature that looks like a yellow rabbit and a doll.

"Eh, what's this drawing…"

With a casual toss, the comic arcs along a curve and lands precisely in the nearby trash can.

The opened page shows the cover's Hoom smiling face perfectly soaked in the green liquid she just poured out.

The task continues.

Rest is usually taken on the upper floors of the building.

A Xing turns, about to step onto the stairs leading to the second floor—

Snap.

A sound of a key entering a Lock's keyhole comes from the foyer.

A Xing's movement freezes instantly.

Their mind judges in milliseconds: the newcomer's identity is unknown, a direct clash could expose the task.

Optimal solution: covert observation.

Their body moves a step ahead of the thought.

Making almost no sound, they slip like a cat into the shadows, quickly crouch and hide beneath the tall marble countertop of the open‑plan kitchen.

The spot is conveniently shielded by bar stools and an extended portion of the counter, making it hard to see directly from the living room.

They adjust their breathing, lowering their presence to the minimum.

The door opens.

A petite, light footstep enters, accompanied by a somewhat childish, soft‑sweet female voice:

"Hmm? Why isn't this door closed? Qiana this guy, always losing things."

The voice's owner seems unbothered, mutters, "Never mind, forget it. My comic! Where did I put my beloved Hoom latest issue?"

The footstep sounds a few times in the living room, as if searching for something.

Then, the footstep stops near the table.

"Eh—?!"

A voice filled with an incredulous shout.

"Where is my bitter melon juice?!"

De Lisha, the principal of Saint Freya Academy, at this moment stared wide‑eyed at the empty glass.

The extra‑strong, invigorating bitter melon juice she had specially juiced this morning to savor was gone!

"I clearly left it here..."

De Lisha scratched her head, and her white hair tilted with the motion.

She lifted the cup, brought it to her petite nose and sniffed—indeed, the pure bitter melon fragrance, with a faint coolness.

"Did someone really drink it?"

She looked around and tentatively called out, "Qiana? Yimei? Jizi? Is that you?"

No one responded.

The room was silent.

De Lisha grew more puzzled, her small face full of confusion: "Strange... nobody's back? Could it be a thief? But that doesn't make sense—what would a thief want with bitter melon juice?"

She shook her head and decided to locate the comic first, "Never mind, finding my Houmu comic is more urgent; I haven't finished the latest issue yet... huh?"

Her gaze fell on the trash can.

The bright corner of the cover, and the suspicious dark‑green smudge spreading across Houmu's face on the cover...

Time seemed to pause for a second.

"Ah——!!! My Houmu comic!!"

A sharper, more mournful scream rang through the villa.

A Xing felt a sudden thump in her heart.

A comic book? Could it be...?

De Lisha practically lunged to the edge of the trash can, pinching the spine with two fingers, and shakily pulled out the beloved, freshly purchased, still warm‑from‑the‑shop "Houmu's Great Adventure" latest issue.

The pages were damp and stuck together; Houmu's smiling face was smeared with bitter melon juice, still exuding the bitter melon scent she knew all too well.

"Who... did... this...!"

De Lisha clenched her teeth, almost forcing each word out between them.

Her petite body trembled slightly with Rage, and her deep‑blue eyes burned with fierce fire.

She could tolerate the bitter melon juice being drunk, but defiling her Houmu comic is an unforgivable crime!

A Xing silently listened under the counter, her heart unmoved.

De Lisha stomped around the living room, her little leather shoes click‑clicking crisply on the floor.

She seemed a bit calmer, then began to reason: "The door wasn't locked… the bitter melon juice was poured out… the comic was ruined… no one home… could it be a thief? No, why would a thief steal bitter melon juice and a comic book? A prank?"