Chapter 604

The Ministry of Magic, Office of the Minister of Intelligence. The room, woven with countless conspiracies, lay in perfect stillness, broken only by the occasional crackle from the fireplace.

Duke Kalamos Melusine sat behind a massive obsidian desk, his long fingers lightly tapping the surface, as if playing piano keys.

As head of the Melusine clan, his beauty bordered on the uncanny, yet what truly commanded attention was his eyes, brimming with calculation.

Like a certain duke in Andis Estate, his mood tonight was unusually fine.

According to timing, the bomb he had personally planted on the northeastern shore of the Vortex Sea should be detonating now.

Just enough to level the Corin Estate.

"Though not particularly noteworthy, Padric's dejected face is endlessly entertaining… hehe."

A charming smile played on Kalamos's lips.

Poor little Mia, your esteemed Uncle Melusine shall teach you a lesson: everything in this world has a price.

Either your father pays it, or your lover does.

His reason for establishing an intelligence branch in Lightning City wasn't because the Melusine family cared much for intelligence there—it was purely to make the Corin girl and the Padric girl fight over the same toy.

True brilliance in conspiracy lies here: Lord Melusine need only make strategic adjustments; the pieces he wishes to clash will inevitably clash.

When Mia and Vivian exhaust each other in battle, both their families will lose face, and only then will the Melusine clan step in to mediate, extend favors to both sides, and clean up the mess Mia left behind.

Thus, the "Little Melusine" who expands territory across Jiana Continent can, with his accumulated team from the labyrinth, seamlessly assume control of the intelligence branch on the northeastern shore of the Vortex Sea.

And when his child fully ascends—

Will Padric be utterly despairing?

Hehehehe.

Nothing brings greater joy than watching one's mortal enemy flounder in chaos…

It took Kalamos considerable effort to suppress his laughter, for his subordinate had already arrived at the door.

"Your Grace."

The demon secretary, clad in a tailcoat, slipped in silently, holding a sealed letter with a wax emblem, and bowed respectfully.

"Urgent confidential report from the Vortex Sea northeastern branch—sent by Miss Mia."

"Oh? How timely."

Kalamos's smile deepened; he curled his index finger slightly, and the letter floated through the air into his hand, its Padric family wax seal sliced open by his fingertip.

It must be a tearful complaint.

Or perhaps a formal accusation?

He could already picture Mia's tear-streaked face, sobbing about how Vivian bullied her, stripped her of her title as "branch chief," and even drove her to sleep under bridges.

He unrolled the parchment; the scent of ink filled his nose.

Yet after reading only two lines, Kalamos's smile froze.

"Hmm?"

Instead of the chaos he expected, the page overflowed with joy and pride.

【Dear Uncle Melusine, thank you for giving me this chance to learn at the front lines! I am honored not to have disappointed your expectations!】

【Under the personal care and far-sighted guidance of Lord Luo Yan, our intelligence operations have achieved breakthrough progress—our work is thriving, like the chimneys of Lightning City's factories!】

【】

Personal… care?

What kind of care?

Kalamos's hand trembled slightly; he pulled out a monocle from his drawer, slipped it on, and stared intently at the letter.

The more he read, the tighter his brow furrowed; even his upturned lips drooped.

【…We successfully embedded agents into the most popular local theater troupe, breaching the upper echelons of Lightning City's society without a single drop of blood. Our agent lady has now become the city's center of attention—even Duke Edward himself hosted a banquet in her honor and made her his honored guest…】

【…Our intelligence network has spread fully through noble gatherings; those once inaccessible elites now rush to present their secrets before us, just as Your Grace predicted…】

【…The illumination of the Demon God upon the surface is within reach!】

Kalamos laid down the letter.

He rubbed his throbbing temples, then read it again—but the words did not change.

This play… was not following his script.

"Your Grace?"

Seeing his lord's shifting expression, the secretary whispered cautiously.

"Shall we reply to the branch? Or… send someone to verify?"

Though he didn't know what the letter said, he sensed the situation was grim for Hell's grand scheme…

Kalamos snapped back to awareness.

He glanced at the "good news" on his desk, as if mocking his miscalculation. The Minister of Intelligence of Hell fell silent for a moment, then let out a thoughtful, faint chuckle.

"No need to verify."

He tossed the letter into the fireplace, watching the flames instantly devour it, then spoke slowly.

"Reply to Miss Padric on my behalf: the Cabinet is highly satisfied with her work. Encourage her to continue."

He paused, then added.

"Also, Miss Padric's achievement is considerable, but her letter is poorly written. Rewrite it for our records."

"Yes."

The secretary bowed and withdrew.

The office door closed again, sealing out all light beyond the fireplace.

Kalamos picked up his cup of tea—long since cold—and sipped it, unable to suppress a "tch" at its bitterness.

He hadn't set fire to his own backyard—he'd helped light someone else's stove.

Now he could only hope Miss Vivian's envy and resentment would take effect…

So annoying.

…

Kalamos's calculations were not wrong—Miss Vivian was indeed overwhelmed by envy, jealousy, and grievance, nearly ascending to heaven.

By Bayley!

Why should Padric's fox-woman lie idly while Vivian, clever, brave, strong enough to drag a train with one hand, is hung on a bookshelf?!

Is there any justice?!

Vivian was heartbroken.

Until the demon king who had just scolded her slipped a carrot into her white-knuckled hand—

"Stop fussing. I'll take you to the play."

That simple sentence instantly smoothed the vampire girl's bristling fur.

Though the carrot still dangled a little burden named Nanfu, it didn't stop Vivian's mood from clearing—she even took time to dress up before leaving, selecting a dark red gown with lace trim.

"Oh, shoes, shoes… kuku, these ones!"

Watching Vivian rummage through her wardrobe, the fox-eared maid wore a look of helpless amusement but dared not speak.

They were all just black… what difference did it make?

The Corin vampire's logic was always peculiar.

Mia had wanted to join too, but Luo Yan dissuaded her, saying she had drawn too much attention in Lightning City and shouldn't appear publicly.

"…Be good, this is for your own sake. I don't want you attracting too many priests' notice. Next time, I'll take you alone."

Remembering the trouble the sudden attack had caused Luo Yan, Mia felt deep guilt and didn't press further, whispering softly.

"Alright… then come back early."

Her timid demeanor, more like Ma Xiu than a young eagle, made Luo Yan slightly embarrassed.

One must say: the demon king feared none of the weaklings in Lightning City's church.

Though they wore white robes and called themselves servants of the gods, they were indeed so before imperial peasants or hellish goblins—but before imperial princes, they still knelt.

Don't be fooled by their white robes and claims of being servants of the gods—they may bow before imperial peasants or hell goblins, but before an imperial prince, they still kneel.

Ha.

Even Baron Harvey Mithia wouldn't dare say that—he was, after all, a member of the "Holy See faction" in the Sacred City, even if a marginal one.

The real reason he didn't bring "Ya Ya" along wasn't complicated: Luo Yan simply didn't want to fight over who got to hand out tissues later.

As a master strategist, the demon king always thought three moves ahead, preventing problems at their source.

As a master of chess, the Demon King always thinks three moves ahead, preventing problems at their source.

He gave Mia a reassuring glance.

Then, accompanied by Vivian, tongue flicking mischievously, and Nanfu trembling, he boarded the carriage waiting at the estate gate.

The faith energy had accumulated enough—it was time to harvest.

The faith energy has accumulated enough—it's time to harvest.

Corin Grand Theater, VIP Box.

Heavy crimson velvet curtains blocked outside views, leaving only a clear sightline to the stage.

Tragedy and comedy unfolded on stage; the drama inside the box was equally intense.

Vivian clutched a finely crafted handkerchief, now crumpled into a salted vegetable, dripping with snot.

She wept uncontrollably, utterly shedding her usual haughty, domineering ladylike image—sniffling loudly, eyes red, staring at the stage, lost in the role of someone on it.

She sobbed uncontrollably, utterly shedding her usual haughty, domineering ladylike image, blowing her nose without grace while her eyes, red-rimmed, fixed on the stage, lost in whoever was up there.

"Wuwu… so moving…"

Luo Yan glanced at the handkerchief in her hand, not worried she was crying too badly, but wary she might suddenly return it to him.

He had plenty more of these; there was no need to return it.