In a completely sealed, remote area, lesser demons took turns patrolling along fixed routes. Each of them carried a charged stun rifle, cold blue light gliding along the barrel whenever they turned, reflecting off their expressionless faces and filling the air with a constant sense of danger.

  Deep within the vast jungle stood a massive warehouse, constructed with extreme discretion. Gray concrete walls were covered in moss and tangled vines, blending seamlessly into the towering vegetation around it. From a distance, it looked no different from an abandoned research facility swallowed by time — silent, lifeless, harmless.

  But beneath that camouflage lay a secret criminal base operating without pause.

  Machinery ran day and night. Cold industrial lights sliced through the darkness, while dense networks of metal pipes carried energy and unknown liquids deep into the structure’s core.

  The air was thick — saturated with the scent of heated metal, pungent chemicals, and a strange otherworldly energy that defied classification. The place felt both hyper-modern and anciently malevolent, as if every wall concealed an unrecorded crime.

  ***

  Inside the meeting room, the space was entirely enclosed by transparent reinforced glass — perfectly soundproof, yet deliberately exposing the authority of the man standing at its center. Soft golden ceiling lights illuminated a solid walnut conference table, polished to a mirror-like sheen that reflected every slow, deliberate movement of Nicolas.

  Black leather chairs with high backs surrounded the table, their sharp stitching immaculate. On the glass walls, holographic screens displayed revenue charts, distribution chains, and soaring growth figures — cold numbers reeking of money and power. There were no paintings, no decorations — only authority quantified into profit.

  The air carried the scent of new leather, rare wood, and cold metal — a signature aroma of places where decisions could cost lives, yet appear on paper as nothing more than “operational expenses.”

  Beyond the glass walls, an entirely different world was in motion.

  Inside the cosmetics production floor, lesser demons moved continuously along the assembly line. Dressed in gray-white protective suits and full masks, their vacant eyes remained fixed on their tasks.

  Lipsticks were molded and pressed, their surfaces smooth and velvety. Eyeshadows were ground into fine, vibrant powders. Foundations flowed thickly, poured with mechanical precision into compact molds — like an emotionless ritual.

  The factory echoed endlessly— whirr… whirr… of rotating engines,

  clack… clack… of molds opening and closing,

  hiss… hiss… of compressed air and liquids pumped through pipes,

  clang… of metal trays colliding as products moved along the conveyor belts.

  The scent of melted wax, pigments, chemicals, and otherworldly energy blended together into a sweet, artificial fragrance — one that could mask every flaw, every sin, the moment it touched human skin.

  From within the glass room, Nicolas needed only a glance to turn the entire production line into a living graph. Every lipstick, every powder compact was no longer makeup — it was money, power, and destruction, perfectly packaged.

  Nicolas possessed an appearance that naturally lowered others’ guard.

  His chestnut-brown hair was slicked back neatly, every strand perfectly in place, gleaming under the meeting room lights like carefully polished lacquer. His face was symmetrical — high nose bridge, sharp jawline, lips curved into a faint, habitual smile — the kind worn by those accustomed to control.

  His eyes, the same shade of brown, were deep and bright. Calm, steady, and strangely magnetic. When he looked directly at someone, his gaze never felt aggressive — on the contrary, it inspired trust, as if everything he said was reasonable, beneficial. Only those who observed long enough would realize that behind that warm-tinted glass lay a hollow, emotionless void.

  He wore a bespoke dark-toned suit, tailored to accentuate his tall frame without excess, radiating the ease of a successful businessman. His white shirt was pristine, tie perfectly knotted, and at his wrist rested a slim metal watch with a minimalist face — unflashy, yet far beyond the reach of most.

  Every movement Nicolas made was slow and precise — from the way he stood, to how he turned, to the moment his hand rested on the walnut table. He never raised his voice. He never threatened.

  His confidence was the kind only possessed by those accustomed to giving orders — and watching others obey.

  To an outsider, Nicolas was the perfect image of an international investor: Accomplished, refined, trustworthy. Yet beneath that elegant shell lurked the predatory instinct of an extraterrestrial being — one who regarded lives and morality as variables to be erased when necessary.

  Behind the refined exterior was a cold-blooded alien criminal. His low voice filled the room, slow yet oppressive:

  – “How are sales this month?”

  Grimm, a bald, burly man with a rough build and hoarse voice, bowed deeply, his tone dripping with flattery:

  – “Sir, sales are excellent — especially the lipstick line.”

  Kane, a sharp-eyed lesser demon with a buzz cut and tattoos, quickly added:

  – “Just this morning alone, we shipped out two more batches.”

  Nicolas’ lips curved slightly, satisfaction flashing through his eyes.

  – “This formula… once used, there is no escape. I will soon become a tycoon.”

  Grimm hesitated before speaking again:

  – “I’ve heard the best-selling cosmetics across the market are lipsticks, but we still haven’t chosen a brand ambassador for this line.”

  Kane immediately followed, eyes gleaming:

  – “Yes, sir. Major brands all have spokespersons. If we find the right face, revenue will multiply several times over.”

  Nicolas shook his head lightly, his gaze darkening:

  – “You think I haven’t considered that? But tell me — who?”

  He took a few slow steps, his voice tinged with disdain:

  – “I don’t even want to mention the Dark Planet. As for Earth… I see no one worthy.”

  Grimm suddenly had an idea:

  – “What if… you host a competition to find a brand ambassador? Offer a generous prize. Plenty of participants would flock in.”

  Kane quickly chimed in, cunning gleaming in his eyes:

  – “The prize money is insignificant. But if we find the right person, the returns will be hundreds of times greater.”

  Nicolas fell silent, fingers tapping lightly against the walnut tabletop. After a few seconds, he nodded:

  – “Very well. Do it.”

  His eyes turned icy:

  – “But the face must be truly striking. I have no use for ordinary girls.”

  Grimm and Kane bowed deeply:

  – “Yes, sir. Leave it to us.”

  ***

  At c?u D?ng’s villa, the battle over Anh Th?’s wings finally came to a temporary end.

  The designer stepped out through the gate, sweat soaking his forehead, dripping onto the stone steps:

  – “I’ll head out now. Tomorrow morning, my team will come to take measurements.”

  Anh Tú watched him go, fully understanding the pressure of a service provider dealing with a wealthy, stubborn, and demanding young lady. He quietly slipped some money into the designer’s hand:

  – “Take this. Thank you for your hard work.”

  The designer hesitated briefly, then nodded gratefully and hurried away.

  Once the gate closed, Anh Tú let out a heavy sigh:

  – “That centipede demon Huy… he’s really in for it this time.”

  He shook his head bitterly:

  – “No telling how much of the wife’s family assets he’ll get, but marrying someone like Anh Th?… he’ll be losing sleep, spun around like a top.”

  The villa fell quiet once more.

  But elsewhere, the wheels of crime had begun to spin faster than ever.

  Inside the cosmetics store, two couples were standing at the checkout counter. The young man casually picked up a few more lipsticks and placed them on the counter:

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  – “Please wrap these as well.”

  The girl beside him smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement:

  – “Thank you, honey. You’re buying me nothing but high-end cosmetics.”

  The cashier wrapped the items while smiling warmly:

  – “You have such a thoughtful boyfriend. Men who are willing to invest in their girlfriend’s beauty like this are pretty rare.”

  At that moment, another employee walked over, holding up her phone, her voice full of excitement:

  – “Hey, look at this. The owner of the cosmetics brand we’re selling just posted a casting call for a brand ambassador. The prize money is huge.”

  The cashier leaned over to look at the screen, her eyes lighting up:

  – “Do you think I should sign up?”

  Hearing that, the girl subtly glanced at her boyfriend, then pretended to be surprised, her tone curious:

  – “Oh? Where are they recruiting brand ambassadors?”

  The employee immediately showed her the phone:

  – “It’s the owner of the lipstick line you just bought.”

  The girl turned to the young man, her voice turning clearly coquettish:

  – “Do you think I should try? Who knows — maybe I’ll become a famous model.”

  The young man caught on immediately, playing along naturally:

  – “If you like it, then go ahead and register. You never know — it might actually work.”

  The girl squealed softly, brimming with anticipation:

  – “Then I’ll have to start preparing an evening gown.”

  She turned back to the employee:

  – “So how do I sign up?”

  The employee explained cheerfully:

  – “Through the brand’s fanpage. You register online — fill in your name, age, date of birth, one portrait photo, and one full-body photo. If you’ve had any professional modeling training before, you can include that too, and leave your phone number. The organizers will contact you for casting.”

  Every word spoken at the checkout counter was captured in full by a tiny recording device — none other than the sparkling hair clip nestled in the girl’s hair.

  ***

  At the Gothic villa, Din wore his headset, listening intently to every detail. He curled his lips slightly:

  – “Recruiting a brand ambassador, huh… what are you plotting now?”

  Erion sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm:

  – “If it’s a model, I’d recommend My. Or maybe D?ng’s three daughters — they’d be a perfect fit.”

  Trang let out a soft laugh:

  – “The three girls are a gamble, but if My joins, the organizers will probably cry an entire river dry.”

  Charles joined in calmly:

  – “My also happens to be a distributor for this brand. She definitely won’t miss this opportunity.”

  The group of lesser demons laughed mischievously while playing games, all of them thoroughly amused:

  – “If she becomes the brand ambassador, the company might as well declare bankruptcy.”

  The couple had just walked out of the cosmetics store hand in hand, still smiling, when they suddenly slowed to a halt. Both of their gazes shifted simultaneously toward the café across the street, where three ride-hailing drivers were sitting separately, looking like ordinary customers.

  The young man narrowed his eyes slightly. A faint golden glint flashed within his pupils before disappearing:

  – “They’re agents under Lord Satan. Fast, as expected.”

  The girl curled her lips, her tone indifferent:

  – “Let them be. Hurry and bring the samples back to the Count and the Grand General. They don’t like waiting.”

  The two quickly mounted their motorbike, merged into the heavy traffic, and vanished at the end of the road.

  At the café, one agent chuckled softly, setting his cup down:

  – “Those two vampires are pretty capable. As expected from people working for Count Din and Grand General Erion.”

  Another agent squinted as he watched the motorbike disappear:

  – “Highly trained operatives. Looks like we’ll be dealing with their side a lot more soon.”

  Phong Túc stood up and adjusted his coat:

  – “Let’s head back as well. The research division at Bình Chánh Headquarters is waiting.”

  ***

  At the international hospital, My’s eyes lit up the moment she read the brand ambassador recruitment announcement. She nearly squealed:

  – “Mom, Dad! The owner of the brand I’m distributing just posted a casting call for a brand ambassador for their best-selling lipstick line. I have to join!”

  Vú N?m placed a plate of freshly cut fruit on the table, her face full of concern:

  – “Young miss just recovered. Maybe you should rest more. Competing again — Vú is worried it’ll affect your health.”

  Mr. Quy, on the other hand, laughed cheerfully:

  – “My daughter is this beautiful — how could she not be chosen? Go ahead and compete.”

  Mrs. Lan asked cautiously:

  – “When is the competition, dear?”

  My answered brightly:

  – “Next Monday, Mom — right after Anh Th?’s wedding.”

  ***

  At C?u D?ng’s villa, the atmosphere was just as lively when his daughters read the announcement.

  Anh Th? cheered first:

  – “So I’ll compete right after my wedding!”

  Anh ?ào refused to be outdone:

  – “I want to join too, Dad. I don’t care about the prize money — I just want to be famous.”

  C?u D?ng turned to Anh Tú, half-joking, half-serious:

  – “What do you think? ?ào wants to go to the casting.”

  Anh Tú nodded with a smile:

  – “Of course, Dad. If my wife gets chosen, I’d be proud too.”

  But inwardly, he sighed:

  – “With that sharp temper… who would dare sign a contract with her?”

  Anh Ph??ng turned to Join and Mary, asking expectantly:

  – “Do you think I meet the standards?”

  Mary forced a smile:

  – “Just give it a try. I wouldn’t know.”

  Join replied half-heartedly:

  – “You should all try. If it doesn’t work out, nothing’s lost.”

  Yet inwardly, he thought:

  – “If they join, they might just blow up the entire program.”

  M? Linh chimed in as well, glancing meaningfully at C?u D?ng:

  – “What about me? What do you think?”

  C?u D?ng, who was drinking tea, immediately choked and coughed:

  – “How old are you that you still want to compete as a model?”

  M? Linh simply smiled and shrugged:

  – “I’m just joking.”

  No one noticed that behind the laughter and glamorous dreams, the upcoming model selection was far from a simple stage under bright lights — it was a gateway leading straight into a dangerous conspiracy, quietly beginning to unfold.

  Inside the small single-story house, most of the basic decorations were nearly finished. Colorful tinsel shimmered under the lights, baubles were carefully hung, and foam-letter decorations were neatly attached to the walls, creating a lively atmosphere ahead of the wedding day.

  Mrs. Nguy?t carried a tray of pastries to the table and warmly called out to Huy’s friends:

  – “Take a break and come eat some cake, kids. If you hadn’t come to help today, I don’t know when we’d ever finish.”

  The girl with red-highlighted hair picked up a piece of cake and smiled cheerfully:

  – “It’s nothing, Auntie. We were free anyway, so we came to help Huy.”

  The purple-haired boy glanced up at the ancestral altar and spoke softly:

  – “The bronze incense set hasn’t been polished yet. We’ll take care of that later too, okay?”

  Mr. Tín smiled gently:

  – “That set needs a proper polish, so I’ll handle it. The flower gate should be installed on Saturday, right?”

  Mrs. Nguy?t nodded:

  – “Yes. The wedding’s on Sunday, so Saturday will be just in time. This afternoon, Huy and I will clean the living room and kitchen too.”

  The orange-haired girl, scrolling on her phone while eating cake, suddenly froze:

  – “Hey… there’s a model recruitment announcement here.”

  Everyone immediately gathered around to look. After reading it, the purple-haired boy pouted:

  – “I thought they were recruiting male models. I would’ve signed up right away.”

  The crew-cut guy with an earring curled his lips mockingly:

  – “It’s a lipstick advertisement. You go compete.”

  Up in the loft, Huy, who was tidying up the sleeping area, stuck his head out when he heard that:

  – “A model? I’m pretty good-looking too, you know. Maybe I’ll sign up and try.”

  The red-highlighted girl grimaced:

  – “Oh my god, it’s lipstick modeling. You guys should at least use lipstick before entering.”

  Standing nearby, Mrs. Nguy?t chuckled softly:

  – “You girls should hurry and sign up. Who knows — maybe one of you will get chosen.”

  Laughter filled the house. No one noticed that at the very same moment, far away, those casually mentioned names were quietly becoming data points in an entirely different plan.

  ***

  Inside the production facility, Grimm stared intently at a laptop, the corner of his mouth lifting:

  – “Looks like a lot of people signed up this time… but the photos in these applications are kind of…”

  Kane leaned in and widened his eyes:

  – “Damn. Most of them are over thirty — there’s even a fifty-year-old woman. Where did all the young girls go?”

  Grimm shrugged:

  – “What’s there to worry about? The competition doesn’t start until next Monday.”

  Nicolas tapped his fingers rhythmically against the walnut table, his expression displeased:

  – “I doubt any of them are suitable. But since we’ve already announced it, we’ll hold the event anyway. I don’t want customers thinking my brand lacks credibility.”

  Grimm sighed:

  – “It really is hard to find a golden face. Not just the looks — body, personality too.”

  Nicolas curled his lips, his gaze icy:

  – “The most important thing is presence. If that person appears, you’ll feel it the moment you see them.”

  Kane shook his head, sounding discouraged:

  – “Someone like that doesn’t exist, Boss.”

  Nicolas didn’t respond. His eyes swept across the screen, as if waiting for a face he himself had never seen — yet firmly believed would appear.

  At this moment, outside the gates of the Gothic mansion, a delivery rider pulled to a stop. Dressed plainly, his movements natural like any ordinary courier, he walked up and rang the bell:

  – “Owner, please come collect your delivery.”

  A minor demon ran out and opened the gate. The courier politely handed over the package and lowered his voice to a whisper:

  – “These are the cosmetics we managed to purchase. Take them inside to the masters quickly.”

  With that, he turned and left, his figure giving off not a shred of suspicion. Once the motorcycle disappeared from sight, the minor demon immediately clutched the package and rushed into the mansion:

  – “The goods have arrived, Masters!”

  Din swiftly opened the package. Inside was a full range of cosmetics — foundation, loose powder, blush, eyeshadow… and especially lipstick, which made up the largest portion.

  Charles picked up a lipstick, uncapped it, and brought it lightly to his nose. His brows knitted together:

  – “I can only smell cosmetics. There’s no trace of datura.”

  Trang opened a blush compact, examined it carefully, then sniffed it as well. She shook her head:

  – “The scent is very clean — just ordinary cosmetic fragrance.”

  Erion turned another lipstick slowly in his hand, his gaze darkening:

  – “What they added is the flower of datura. That part naturally carries a pleasant fragrance. Combined with synthetic perfume, it’s almost perfectly concealed.”

  Din held a foundation compact, his eyes sharp and cold:

  – “We’ll only know the exact chemical composition once this goes to the research lab.”

  Charles asked immediately:

  – “When are you heading out?”

  Erion curled his lips, his voice firm:

  – “Tonight. We’ll use a spatial gate. I’ll drag this bastard into the light.”

  Then he looked at Din:

  – “Inform Yin to prepare. Tonight, we move.”

  ***

  At the Bình Chánh headquarters, Phong Túc and the two agents had just returned. The Grand Madam Advisor stepped forward, her steps unhurried yet radiating authority:

  – “The research room is ready. I will handle this personally.”

  Satan replied, his eyes never leaving the encrypted laptop screen:

  – “She is an expert in cosmetic formulation. No ingredient can escape her eyes — or her sense of smell.”

  Phong Túc stepped forward and placed five lipsticks into her hand:

  – “I’ll return to that place to collect more samples whenever you require them.”

  The Grand Madam Advisor nodded, then continued decisively:

  – “The Crown Princess Consort is also studying fragrance formulation. I believe this is a good opportunity for her to gain experience.”

  H?ng Nhung immediately stood up:

  – “Yes. I’ll go in right away.”

  She bowed to everyone, then followed the Grand Madam Advisor and several chemistry-specialized agents into the large chamber at the rear.

  The metal door slid shut. Magnetic locks activated, releasing a deep, heavy sound — like metal grinding against the spine of space itself.

  Clack.

  The temperature inside dropped instantly. Cold air flooded the room like an invisible mist, clinging to the skin.

  The research chamber gradually revealed itself.

  Towering black-silver metal walls rose on all sides, their surfaces covered with engraved arcane symbols. Each line glowed faint blue, pulsing irregularly, as if the room itself were… breathing.

  At the center stood a reinforced glass laboratory table, its surface overlaid with intricate magic arrays interwoven together, light flowing along the patterns like living energy.

  From the ceiling, mechanical arms hovered in midair. Their joints rotated slowly, emitting steady buzzing sounds as they adjusted test tubes, syringes, and analytical blades. Around the room, holographic screens spun in the air, projecting molecular structures that continuously recombined, data dancing like an unfinished life-form.

  Cold white light shone down, reflecting off bottles of liquid in countless colors, giving the room the eerie impression of being both a cutting-edge scientific laboratory — and a domain ruled by ancient magic.

  The door behind them sealed completely.

  Inside this chamber, a dangerous truth — belonging neither fully to light nor entirely to darkness — was being peeled away layer by layer from its flawless disguise.