It was already past midnight. Three luxury vehicles glided slowly through the cold mist of the ?à L?t highlands, piercing an invisible illusion barrier as they entered the headquarters. The headlights were completely swallowed by the protective field — outside, not a single trace was left behind.

  Everyone stepped out of the cars at an unhurried pace. The chill immediately closed in, yet no one showed any sign of fatigue. The lesser demons each carried oversized bags of food, clutching cups of hot soy milk, their faces glowing with excitement as if they had just won a decisive battle.

  Din took a deep breath, his voice steady and composed:

  – “We’ll head straight to the research lab now. I originally planned to start tomorrow morning so everyone could rest first. But the General…”

  Erion replied without hesitation:

  – “I can’t allow that snake to get ahead of me.”

  Yin glanced at the lesser demons, his tone turning stern:

  – “You lot, go inside and arrange the food for everyone.”

  The lesser demons responded in unison with a quick “Yes, sir,” then hurried toward the living quarters. The rest of the group swiftly moved in the direction of the underground level.

  Beneath the ?à L?t headquarters stood a colossal steel door — thick and massive, like a wall dividing two different worlds. Its matte-black metal surface did not reflect light; instead, it absorbed everything around it, cold and solemn. There was no physical lock in sight — the entire system was operated through a fusion of power-based technology and magnetic fields, responding only to the aura of its true owner.

  Erion and Din stood side by side before the door. Neither spoke, yet the invisible pressure radiating from them compressed the surrounding space.

  Erion slowly raised his hand.

  The skin of his palm began to transform, flesh swallowed by an ultra-cold black flame — dark fire that did not burn, but froze. It spread like black frost mist. The temperature in the air dropped instantly; moisture condensed and crystallized into countless tiny frost particles suspended in midair.

  At that exact moment, the deeply engraved energy patterns on the steel door lit up simultaneously.

  BOOM…

  BOOM…

  A deep, muffled sound echoed from within, like the heartbeat of an ancient machine awakening from slumber. Massive metal gears hidden deep within the structure began to turn, grinding against each other, their heavy reverberations rolling through the earth.

  Layer after layer of energy locks disengaged. Blue-violet rings of light ran along the door’s surface like activated veins, pulsing in rhythm with the fluctuations of the magnetic field.

  The steel door slowly split open.

  When it fully opened, an overwhelmingly vast space was revealed before them. The ceiling soared high above, supported by stone pillars carved with ancient French royal motifs, their intricate details worn softly by time. Between the elegant gray stone walls ran bands of black metal and reinforced transparent glass, where countless blue holographic screens floated — ancient symbols interwoven seamlessly with modern energy codes.

  The floor was paved in black-and-white marble arranged in a classic chessboard pattern. Beneath every step, hidden energy circuits glowed faintly, pulsing like the lifeblood of a colossal organism. Cold, polished metal research tables were arranged in perfect symmetry, topped with advanced analytical devices, energy containment units, and transparent mana conduits where violet-blue light flowed slowly like blood.

  The lighting was not dazzling, but subdued and warm, cast from black crystal chandeliers suspended above — luxurious like an ancient royal hall, yet reflecting coldly off cutting-edge technological equipment. The entire space was silent, solemn, and oppressive — like a scientific sanctuary built for beings standing at the boundary between myth and absolute power.

  Erion curled his lips slightly:

  – “This system was created by me. It only opens when it recognizes the owner’s power. No one can replicate it.”

  Din couldn’t hide his pride either:

  – “Those who specialize in copying faces, retinas, fingerprints… If they encountered this system, they’d probably have to quit the business altogether.”

  Erion took Trang’s hand and stepped inside first. Chen followed last, holding a rather large box of cosmetics in both arms.

  On the long laboratory tables stood racks of black glass test tubes, each containing dark purple, pale blue, or green solutions, gently bubbling as if they still possessed life. Beakers, flasks, and chemical conduits were linked by cold, gleaming metal joints, the liquids inside circulating continuously, emitting a dim, otherworldly glow.

  Multi-layered microscopes were neatly arranged, their lenses coated with protective energy fields — capable of magnifying biological matter while simultaneously analyzing microscopic mana structures. Beside them were sealed sample trays made of reinforced glass, preserving dried petals, dark crystals, and biological tissue marked with ancient symbols.

  Along the tables stood various measuring instruments and advanced analyzers, their screens displaying biochemical data, energy waves, and mutation levels. Rows of chemical bottles were lined up precisely, labels written in a blend of modern scientific notation and ancient script, warning of toxicity levels and effects on living organisms.

  Everything was arranged with cold, absolute precision — nothing excessive, nothing misplaced — as if this place permitted no emotion beyond total control.

  Chen set the cosmetics box down on the icy metal table. He opened it and took out each item one by one, arranging them neatly:

  – “Inside are powders, foundation, blush, eyeshadow… but most of all, lipsticks.”

  Yin stepped closer, picked up a cream lipstick, uncapped it, and brought it lightly to his nose. His gaze darkened:

  – “Datura. And there’s another scent mixed in… something far from simple.”

  Charles opened a red lipstick, lightly swiped it across his wrist, then blended it with his finger to feel the texture:

  – “The formula is smooth, no clumping, the color applies evenly. No wonder so many women are addicted to this lipstick line.”

  Trang looked at the rows of lipsticks spread across the metal table, the lights reflecting off countless eye-catching cases:

  – “All the shades are hot trends. Bullet lipsticks, matte, velvet cream, gloss, even colorless lip balm…”

  She turned to the others, thoughtful:

  – “So… which one do we start with?”

  Din asked:

  – “In the Princess’s opinion, which type do women use the most?”

  Trang thought for a few seconds before answering slowly:

  – “I don’t wear makeup often, and I don’t use cosmetics. But from observing the women around me… they mostly use matte lipsticks, cream lipsticks, and bullet lipsticks. Mostly red tones or Western brown shades.”

  Erion nodded, his gaze sharpening:

  – “Then… let’s begin.”

  The atmosphere in the research lab instantly grew tense. A silent battle of intellect had officially begun.

  At the Bình Chánh headquarters, the atmosphere inside the conference room had grown more severe than ever.

  The Grand Madam Advisor stood before the control console and casually lifted her hand. A holographic screen instantly materialized in the air, displaying the image of a bizarre plant.

  Velvet Crave.

  Its petals were a vivid, brilliant red — seductive to the point of ensnaring the gaze. The flower’s core was black, composed of fine, thread-like filaments that twisted gently like spider silk. From the calyx down to the stem and leaves, everything was an unnatural jet black, forming a violent contrast with the crimson petals. Along the stem ran sharp, pointed thorns, each reflecting a cold, merciless sheen.

  The Grand Madam Advisor zoomed in on the thorns:

  – “Do you all notice anything unusual?”

  Trúc Di?n stepped closer, studying the image carefully. Suddenly, he froze, startled:

  – “The thorns of ordinary plants are usually round and tapered. But these… they’re sharp and flattened — exactly like shark teeth.”

  Demon King Satan nodded, his gaze deep and unreadable:

  – “Not only sharp, but razor-edged. When harvesting it, one usually has to rely on magic. If done manually, carbon-fiber woven gloves are mandatory.”

  Arian continued, his tone serious:

  – “As the Elder has analyzed, the flower itself produces a hallucinogenic toxin. But the stem, leaves, and thorns also contain poison — just with entirely different effects.”

  Master V?nh frowned:

  – “So that means… every part of this plant is toxic, but each carries a different type of poison?”

  The Grand Madam Advisor nodded:

  – “Correct. The flower only induces hallucinations during use. Once washed away, the effect disappears. But from the stem downward… the toxin is no longer an illusion.”

  Her voice slowed, growing heavier:

  – “It silently destroys the internal organs. Once absorbed, it accumulates over time. Small amounts can still be expelled by the body’s natural processes — but if the dosage becomes excessive… no one can save the victim.”

  Lita spoke up, her voice grave:

  – “That’s why this plant is absolutely forbidden on the Dark Planet. But its growth rate is terrifyingly fast… there’s no way to eradicate it completely.”

  H?ng Nhung swallowed softly:

  – “Is there any way to recognize it?”

  The Grand Madam Advisor pondered for a second before answering:

  – “This plant has a distinctive scent. Anyone who has encountered it before… will recognize it instantly.

  Trúc Di?n frowned:

  – “But wouldn’t coming into contact with it risk poisoning?”

  The Grand Madam Advisor shook her head:

  – “The toxin in the flower resides within the petal tissue. It must be crushed to take effect; it doesn’t disperse into the air. The same applies to the stem, leaves, and thorns — the poison is internal. Only if the thorns pierce the skin does poisoning occur.”

  Master V?nh let out a sigh of relief:

  – “Good thing the toxin isn’t airborne.”

  Demon King Satan chuckled, his voice tinged with mockery:

  – “That’s the balance of natural law. If a plant that dangerous also released toxins into the air… I wouldn’t have chosen the Dark Planet as the foundation of my empire.”

  ***

  At the same time, inside the research laboratory beneath the ?à L?t headquarters, the tension was just as palpable.

  Everyone was dressed in standard protective gear — gloves, face shields, fully equipped. Erion was examining a lipstick under an electron microscope. On the magnified screen, the pigment structure appeared in sharp detail. He curled his lips into a half-smile:

  – “So it’s Velvet Crave after all. A brilliantly red flower… used both to extract poison and to create lipstick pigment.”

  Din monitored the chemical reactions inside a test tube, his gaze razor-sharp:

  – “Velvet Crave is native to the Dark Planet. Which means… the mastermind must originate from there.”

  Yin used an optical microscope to examine the pigment’s reflective properties, speaking calmly:

  – “The toxin from the petals only induces hallucinations. It doesn’t directly threaten life. But the other parts of this plant… are a far more troubling matter.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Charles, though a professor of physics, was also well-versed in chemistry. He frowned:

  – “That’s strange. I just tested a small amount of lipstick on my wrist, but I didn’t experience any hallucinations at all.”

  A lesser demon analyzing eyeshadow pigment with solvents spoke up, puzzled:

  – “Velvet Crave causes extremely strong hallucinations. Those exposed see themselves as extraordinarily beautiful. But only the user can perceive it.”

  Erion narrowed his eyes slightly. He glanced at another lesser demon who was searching through data on a computer, then spoke decisively:

  – “Try using a small amount of the lipstick yourself. Don’t worry — once you wash it off, the effect will disappear.”

  The lesser demon did not hesitate. He picked up the liquid lipstick and applied it directly to his lips.

  The entire laboratory fell into complete silence.

  No one spoke. Only the faint hum of machines and the heavy, pounding heartbeats of those watching remained.

  Several minutes passed. Chen was the first to break the silence:

  – “So? Do you feel anything unusual?”

  The lesser demon blinked a few times, then shook his head:

  – “This subordinate… feels completely normal. I don’t notice anything at all.”

  Din frowned in confusion:

  – “That’s strange. Look into the mirror.”

  Trang immediately handed him a small mirror.

  He stared at his reflection for a long moment, then shook his head again:

  – “This subordinate… doesn’t see anything different.”

  Erion stood up abruptly, his voice turning cold:

  – “Impossible. How could it have no effect?”

  Trang thought for a moment before speaking slowly:

  – “Could it be… that only humans are affected?”

  Din immediately refuted her:

  – “That’s not possible. Velvet Crave is a forbidden plant on the Dark Planet. Demons there turn pale at the sight of it. No one dares to touch it with bare hands.”

  Charles frowned deeply:

  – “Then… why isn’t this lesser demon affected?”

  Chen hesitated before speaking:

  – “This is lipstick. Maybe… only women are affected?”

  The room froze for a brief beat. Trang stood up. She picked up a pale pink lipstick from the table and, without hesitation, applied it directly to her lips.

  Erion reacted instinctively, reaching out to stop her — but it was too late:

  – “What are you doing?! It’s poisonous!”

  Trang, stubborn and resolute, looked at him calmly:

  – “You said it yourself earlier. Once it’s washed off, the effect disappears.”

  Yin placed a hand on Erion’s shoulder, steadying him:

  – “That’s right. Let the Princess test it.”

  Din still couldn’t hide his concern:

  – “If you feel anything abnormal, say it immediately. I’ll bring clean water right away.”

  Five minutes passed. Trang felt nothing out of the ordinary. She picked up the mirror and carefully examined her face. Her eyes, skin, demeanor — everything was the same. No hallucinations. No changes.

  Chen swallowed:

  – “So…? Princess, do you see anything happening?”

  Trang shook her head:

  – “No. Everything feels normal. I don’t see any hallucinations at all.”

  Yin’s expression grew suspicious. He murmured under his breath:

  – “This doesn’t make sense… How could it be like this?”

  Charles quickly handed Trang some tissues:

  – “Wipe the lipstick off first. I’ll get clean water so you can rinse.”

  Din sat down, resting his chin on his hand, his gaze darkening:

  – “There’s something… very strange here. Same species of demon, yet some are affected while others aren’t.”

  Suddenly — Erion slammed both hands down onto the metal table, the sharp sound echoing through the lab:

  – “Could it be… that it chooses its targets?”

  He stared at the lipstick on the table, his eyes icy cold:

  – “Then I’ll try it.”

  No one had time to react. Erion applied a small amount of lipstick to his wrist and brought it close to his nose. Minutes passed, he felt nothing. Charles quickly handed him tissues and a basin of clean water. After everyone washed off the traces of lipstick, the laboratory sank into a heavy silence. Something was wrong.

  Din paced back and forth, his voice low:

  – “I thought anyone who touched it would be affected. I checked very carefully — both Velvet Crave and devil’s trumpet are present. At first, I thought the devil’s trumpet might neutralize Velvet Crave. But no. Both are still active — the dosage of devil’s trumpet is simply lower.”

  Trang spoke thoughtfully:

  – “The mastermind must have conducted countless experiments to create this formula. There’s no way they would allow devil’s trumpet to interfere with Velvet Crave.”

  Yin’s expression turned grave:

  – “Then perhaps… we should report this to the Lord. The Bình Chánh headquarters should have their research results by now as well.”

  Erion nodded decisively:

  – “Fine. Inform my father-in-law. Let him decide what to do next.”

  A far greater secret was beginning to surface.

  And Velvet Crave… was clearly far more complex than they had ever imagined.

  Inside the grand hall of the Bình Chánh headquarters, the atmosphere felt heavier than ever after hours of intense research into the toxins hidden within cosmetics. The lights were dimmed, their softened glow revealing the exhaustion etched into every face.

  Arian sat before the holographic screen, rubbing his neck and stretching before speaking, his voice low but firm:

  – “It’s almost dawn. Everyone should get some rest. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

  H?ng Nhung rubbed her eyes, her drowsiness obvious:

  – “I really can’t hold on anymore.”

  Trúc Di?n let out a long yawn, adjusted his posture, then bowed respectfully toward Demon King Satan:

  – “Good night, Father. This son will take his leave.”

  Just as everyone stood up, preparing to leave the hall, the encrypted laptop in front of Satan suddenly lit up. A soft activation tone echoed through the quiet space. He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his voice turning grave:

  – “It’s Din. At this hour… they’re still awake?”

  The Grand Madam Advisor, who had already taken a few steps away, immediately stopped and turned back:

  – “Has something happened on the Grand General’s side, my Lord?”

  In an instant, everyone returned, gathering around Satan. He scanned the message quickly. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes before being replaced by deep contemplation. When the information was spoken aloud, the entire hall fell into a baffled silence.

  The forensic expert who had directly analyzed Velvet Crave frowned, unable to hide his confusion:

  – “This is very strange. The Princess, the Grand General, the lesser demons… even the angel Charles were unaffected. That completely contradicts all previous records.”

  The Grand Madam Advisor fell into thought, her gaze heavy:

  – “Such a clear division shouldn’t be possible… some are poisoned, while others are completely unharmed.”

  Master V?nh glanced at Trúc Di?n and slowly offered a hypothesis:

  – “Could it be their constitution, bloodline, or immune systems that counteract Velvet Crave’s active compounds?”

  The amber-gold eyes of Demon King Satan narrowed slightly. Suspicion showed clearly in every line of his expression. He spoke slowly, each word pressing down on the air itself:

  – “On the Dark Planet, countless demons have fallen into severe hallucinations merely from contact with the petals. There were no exceptions… until now.”

  A covert agent stepped forward, bowing his head as he spoke quietly:

  – “My Lord, shall we conduct additional comparative experiments tomorrow morning?”

  Satan remained silent for a few seconds before nodding decisively:

  – “Very well. Everyone return to your quarters and rest. We reconvene here tomorrow morning.”

  He closed the laptop, his voice dropping like the conclusion of an unfinished investigation.

  – “I thought I understood everything about Velvet Crave… but clearly, there is still a key detail — and it is being deliberately concealed.”

  No one spoke further. Under the dim lights of the grand hall, a quiet sense of unease spread silently — an omen that the truth behind the toxin was still hidden behind a far thicker veil than they had anticipated.

  ***

  At the VIP room of the international hospital, cold white lights flooded the space. My’s personal belongings had already been neatly packed, ready for her discharge the following morning. The wall clock ticked steadily, each second echoing through the heavy silence.

  While her parents slept soundly on the nearby bed, My stood in the bathroom, staring at the mirror without blinking.

  She picked up a vivid red lipstick and slowly applied it to her lips. The color spread deep and dark, like fresh blood, gleaming unnaturally under the hospital lights. Her hand trembled slightly, yet the smile on her lips grew more pronounced with each passing second.

  In the mirror, her reflection gradually became… different.

  In My’s eyes, her skin appeared impossibly flawless — pale, smooth, and luminous, as if veiled by a thin layer of mist. Every imperfection that had once haunted her vanished completely. Her dove-like eyes looked larger and brighter, her nose tall and elegant, her face refined — like a beauty stepped straight out of a painting.

  She tilted her head, admiring herself from every angle, her smile widening in pure satisfaction. But if one looked closely, her eyes in the mirror had no focus — empty, glassy, as though staring straight through her own reflection.

  She whispered softly, her voice drawn out, as if hypnotizing herself:

  – “I’m so beautiful… beautiful beyond anyone else.”

  The smile on her lips twitched slightly, the corners of her mouth trembling unconsciously:

  – “With this beauty… Trúc Di?n will definitely fall for me… he won’t be able to escape…”

  My pressed her face closer to the mirror. Her breath fogged up the cold glass, leaving blurred streaks behind. For a brief instant, the reflection seemed to lag by half a beat — the smile in the mirror stretching wider, the eyes growing darker:

  – “The modeling contest is coming… I will win.”

  Her voice faded into a murmur, as if speaking to someone who existed only within the mirror:

  – “In this world… no one is more beautiful than me.”

  The room fell into absolute silence. Only the image of My remained — standing before the mirror, smiling in rapture at a beauty that only she could see.

  Within the Andromeda spiral galaxy, amid countless swirling stellar arms like colossal rivers of light, there exists a planet that would send a chill down the spine of any astronomer observing it from a distant orbit.

  The planet possesses a mass comparable to a super-Earth, yet its average density is abnormally high, suggesting a metallic core compressed under unimaginable pressure. From space, its surface appears as an absolute black abyss — reflecting no starlight, scattering no background radiation — as if every photon that touches it is swallowed whole, never to return.

  Its dense atmosphere is composed of heavy carbon compounds, ionized hydrogen, and an unidentified form of dark gas, forming colossal layers of deep, rotating clouds. Gigantic storms overlap endlessly, each vortex spanning tens of thousands of kilometers, slowly turning like crimson eyes opening within the void.

  The winds howl without cease, their speeds far exceeding known standards of gas giants, reaching multi-layered supersonic velocities. The resulting pressure is enough to tear apart alloys and pulverize silicate rock in an instant.

  The sound produced by colliding air currents — if it could travel through the vacuum — would resemble the deep, groaning hum of a colossal machine in operation.

  Amid the storm vortices, black plasma lightning suddenly flashes — arcs of anomalous electrical discharge piercing deep into the cloud layers, emitting a cold, dark violet glow. With each discharge, the entire atmosphere trembles, like a heartbeat — heavy and deliberate — pounding within the planet’s own chest.

  Seen from afar, the planet no longer resembles an inanimate celestial body. It looks like a living entity — breathing, moving, and silently observing those who dare to look upon it. No conventional probe can penetrate its atmosphere. Every signal sent in is bent, distorted, and ultimately disappears — as if swallowed into a dark dimension with no return.

  Yet beyond the chaotic atmospheric layers, where gaseous strata twist and overlap like a physical labyrinth, an entirely different world is revealed. Those who venture deeper into the inner realm of the dark planet will gradually understand why this place is regarded as a perfect paradox of the universe.

  Cobblestone roads wind gently through valleys and hills, each stone polished smooth by time, reflecting the eternal twilight in soft shades of gray and violet.

  Along both sides stand classic cast-iron street lamps in the style of 19th-century Paris, their bodies adorned with intricate carvings. Their pale golden light spreads evenly — neither harsh nor dim — illuminating each step while preserving the solemn stillness.

  The villages are harmoniously planned, bearing the unmistakable character of classical Europe.

  Steep slate roofs crown houses built of gray limestone or dark-fired brick, with wrought-iron balconies shaped in Baroque patterns. Tall, narrow windows framed in black or deep brown wood reflect the dark violet sky above. Every home features a stone fireplace, its chimney rising high, thin smoke drifting lazily into the cool, gentle air.

  At the center of each village lies a circular or octagonal stone plaza, featuring a fountain carved in late Gothic style. Statues of angels, ancient dragons, or creatures symbolizing karmic law stand at its heart. Water flows quietly, without splashing loudly, as though even space itself understands the etiquette of this world.

  Beyond the villages rise ancient cities — vast in scale, yet governed by absolute order. Broad boulevards stretch straight in the Haussmann style, sidewalks wide and lined with perfectly aligned trees. Administrative buildings, academies, and theaters display neoclassical architecture: Corinthian columns, triangular pediments, and reliefs carved with the planet’s history and mythology.

  Above all stand royal castles, towering atop plateaus and mountainsides, built of black stone with a silvery sheen. Their spires pierce the dim sky, stained-glass windows reflecting the eternal twilight into deep reds, dark purples, and burnished golds, making the entire structure appear as if it glows from within.

  The inhabitants move slowly and quietly.

  Men wear frock coats, tailcoats, or long overcoats befitting European aristocracy of the 18th–19th centuries; high-collared shirts, hand-tied cravats or bow ties, and fitted leather gloves. Some carry canes topped with silver heads engraved with family crests.

  Women wear tightly laced corset dresses, multi-layered skirts proportioned precisely to the Victorian era. Sleeves puff gently at the shoulders, collars remain modest, lacework delicate. Hats are worn at a tilt, adorned with feathers or fabric flowers; long gloves extend past the wrists. Every gesture reflects refined decorum instilled since childhood.

  No one dresses ostentatiously. No one appears hurried. All radiate an innate aristocratic bearing — one born not of ostentatious power, but of order, discipline, and unwavering faith in the laws of the dark planet.

  Amid such idyllic beauty, one might almost forget that beyond this realm lies an astronomical nightmare. Only when one notices the sigil of the Demon King Satan carved upon city gates, crests, and ancient architecture does the truth resurface: this beauty is no accident — it is the result of absolute governance, cold and perfect to the point of cruelty.

  At the heart of the domain rises the royal palace, a colossal structure seemingly sculpted directly from darkness itself. Sharp towers pierce the warm, dim sky; black stone walls gleam with metallic luster, etched with ancient demonic script — twisting characters that seem alive, recounting millennia of rule. Towering arched gates in royal Gothic style hold intricate stained glass, reflecting gentle light that shimmers like breathing crystal.

  Inside, grand halls soar so high that even footsteps echo into solemn rhythms. Black stone pillars carved in dark Baroque style stand with chilling precision. Overhead, black crystal chandeliers float suspended, their cold white light refracted through countless facets, resembling falling stars imprisoned within the palace.

  Beyond the main halls lies the royal garden, vast and symmetrically designed according to classical European principles. Gray stone paths curve gently through deep green lawns trimmed to perfection. Strange flowers bloom in the shade, their dark, violet-tinged petals emitting a faint phosphorescent glow — soft, never glaring, yet revealing every detail.

  At the garden’s center stands an obsidian fountain, its mirror-like black surface reflecting all around it. The water falls without splashing, dissolving into fine mist, releasing a soothing sound like the ancient whisper of the dark planet itself.

  Beneath towering trees, royal tea tables are arranged with precision. Duchesses and counts dressed in classical European aristocratic attire leisurely enjoy afternoon tea. Women in fitted corset dresses sit with impeccable posture, lace gloves in white or black adorning their hands. Men in frock coats and tailcoats maintain calm, refined manners.

  They converse in low voices, no laughter too loud, no gesture excessive. Servants in black uniforms trimmed with silver move like shadows, carrying engraved silver trays, pouring tea, replacing pastries, bowing in perfect adherence to royal etiquette. No commands are spoken — everything operates through discipline ingrained into the blood.

  Despite the tranquil appearance, the entire garden is enveloped in an aura of absolute reverence. For everyone knows that even in the absence of the Demon King Satan, every glance and action unfolds beneath His invisible authority—a silent power that needs no display, yet compels the entire world to bow.

  There, Empress Seraphina and Consort Sophia are enjoying afternoon tea.

  Seraphina sits perfectly upright, her elegance absolute. She wears a light brown gown with a wide skirt, its bodice fitted closely, the corset embroidered with intricate patterns. The sleeves puff gently at the shoulders, the layered skirt cascading softly. The dress accentuates her flawless porcelain skin. Her platinum-blonde hair is styled neatly atop her head, with elegant curls flowing behind. Her straight, high nose and icy blue eyes exude cold authority.

  Beside her, Sophia radiates a gentler aura. She wears a pale green dress trimmed with ivory lace at the collar and sleeves, the fabric soft and flowing with each movement. Classical embroidery adorns the bodice, the skirt flaring lightly. Her golden-brown hair is elaborately curled and gathered into a low bun. Her fair, rosy skin and refined features frame deep ocean-blue eyes.

  Seraphina delicately places a small pastry onto a gold-rimmed porcelain plate:

  – “The Lord has discovered that someone has brought Velvet Crave to Earth and mixed it into cosmetics, with the intent of poisoning humans.”

  Sophia fans herself with a pale green lace fan, the corner of her lips curving into a calculating smile:

  – “In my opinion, this criminal has no real talent in cosmetic formulation. He merely exploits the hallucinations caused by the flower petals to sell more products.”

  Seraphina takes a bite of the sweet, her expression calm:

  – “You are right. There are countless individuals who would think of such methods. We must identify the true target.”

  Sophia tilts her head toward the Empress, a flicker of suspicion in her gaze:

  – “So what does Elder Sister intend to do?”

  Seraphina smiles softly, her icy blue eyes gazing into the distant garden where glowing flowers sway gently in the wind:

  – “We begin… at the place where this flower was born.”