"Welcome, Young Miss Henrietta~!"
As soon as she entered, the man at the counter rushed to greet her, pasting the best smile he could muster on his face. He rubbed his hands together, almost as if trying to erase all his fingerprints at once—with a familiar diamond-encrusted golden ring glowing on his index finger.
"Would you like the usu—"
Before he could finish, however, the redhead cut him off. "Where’s Uriel? Call her for me."
"W-Well..." The man’s smile twitched, frozen in place. But knowing the explosive temper of the woman before him, he dared not push her buttons. "I... I’ll call for her now. Please wait a moment..."
As if running for his life, he dashed behind the counter and into the "staff-only" area. Henrietta, left with nothing to do while waiting, leaned back against the wall, arms crossed beneath her bountiful chest.
But the longer she stood idle, the more her anger began to boil again once again. She gritted her teeth and began tapping her foot against the floor. The rhythm—like a ticking time bomb—started slow but steadily gained speed.
When it reached about three taps a second, as if about to detonate—
"Sorry for the wait~!"
A bubbly woman appeared.
She looked well-rounded... literally. White hair that was neither long nor short, falling just below her shoulders. Gray eyes that were neither sharp nor dull. Chubby, but not fat. Short, but not a shrimp. And a friendly, genuine smile stretched across her lips.
"It’s been a week, hasn’t it, Ritta~?"
"Uriel..." At the sight of her, Henrietta’s rage melted instantly—almost like magic.
An awkward smile tugged at her face as she shook her head lightly. "Only you are allowed to call me that, you know...? If anyone else tried, I’d have already cut their tongue out."
"Ehh~? But I quite like my tongue, you know~?"
The woman stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Henrietta’s, pulling it firmly into her soft embrace. "But you didn’t come here to chat, right? Let’s~ Go~!"
Henrietta didn’t resist the gesture, walking along with the short girl toward the elevator.
As a VVIP, she was one of the select few granted access to the third floor’s best VR pods. Naturally, their destination was clear.
The elevator rose smoothly to the third floor—and opened with a soft chime.
As usual, the hallway was lined with closed doors. It was hard to say how many were currently in use, but at the very least, a few rooms were clearly unoccupied. The best room, though—the one farthest down—was still vacant. After all, it had only ever had one user these past few years.
Well... except for a brief moment, when it had a "second" user.
"Here we are~!" Uriel said, smiling wide and spreading her arms with a playful hop—jiggling a number of things.
"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Henrietta shrugged and stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind her. "Then, I’m counting on you to guard me while I’m inside," she added, wearing a faint smile.
Yes... Despite her fluffy appearance—as if she couldn’t hurt a single ant—in truth, this woman was one of the Campbell Family’s elites. In terms of raw strength, she was likely superior to most of the guards back at Henrietta’s mansion.
But more than just a guard, Uriel was something closer to a second mother. A woman who’d been by Henrietta’s side since childhood. A woman who wasn’t nearly as young as she looked—and one of the few true cultivators left in the modern world.
Seeing the subtle hint of desperation behind Henrietta’s faint smile, Uriel let out a soft sigh, her fake smile washed away. She knew the reason for the dark emotions beneath it all.
"If only we shared the same body constitution... I myself would’ve taught you long ago," she murmured with disappointment and sadness.
"It’s not your fault, Uriel. You’ve got your own unique constitution to worry about," Henrietta replied, shaking her head again. "If anything, it’s my fault for having this cursed blood..."
Just as the mood threatened to turn heavy—
"Well, I’m here to forget all that for now." Henrietta shrugged. "We’ll talk again after I let off some steam."
Uriel’s smile returned as she nodded. "Why yes, milady." And responded like a loyal subordinate would.
Henrietta stepped forward and raised her arms in a T-pose.
Without hesitation, Uriel moved behind her and slid off the yellow dress, letting it fall softly to the floor. In a blink, Henrietta was left in nothing but plain white undergarments.
She didn’t flinch—not even slightly. No embarrassment showed.
As if this routine was just another part of her life.
"Then, I’ll be entering the pod now," she said, turning to Uriel. "Again, I’m counting on you."
"Please leave it to me, milady~! I won’t even let a single ant come close~!"
Henrietta gently lifted the glass lid of the pod and lay down at its center. The top-tier cushions lining the interior should’ve made it feel like she was floating in clouds.
Yet despite removing her dress, the pod still felt unbearably tight in her senses. It was as if she were being squeezed between two enormous boulders—that was the curse of her unique constitution.
Slowly, she shut her eyes, clearing her mind of all stray thoughts and letting the machine guide her consciousness into another world.
But just moments before she fully crossed over—
A sudden shout echoed, startling both women in the room.
Out of nowhere, a man dressed in white and blue robes appeared—right inside the pod. He fell right on top of Henrietta, holding himself up with one arm.
Uriel, ever the vigilant bodyguard, sprang into action. She dashed to the VR pod and slammed the emergency stop button, fully prepared to drag the intruder out and "deal with him."
But Henrietta was no less quick.
She instinctively crossed her left arm over her chest and reeled her clenched right fist back—charging it with her full, destructive power for a straight punch.
The man, however, didn’t seem the least bit flustered.
His eyes flicked toward both women, reading the situation instantly. The first threat to address was clear—the incoming fist aimed straight at his face.
"...Oh. Qi deviation?"
The mysterious robed man blocked the punch—one that could reduce a building to rubble—with nothing but a single raised finger.