"Whitley—!!!"
A sharp, earth-shattering scream suddenly exploded in the quiet master bedroom of the Briefs' estate in the early morning!
At this moment, Whitley, who was holding No. 21 and sleeping with a blissful and satisfied expression, was instantly jolted from his sweet dream by this familiar and terrifying roar. His heart skipped a beat!
He snapped his eyes open, and what met his gaze was not the lazy, sleeping face of No. 21 in his arms, but the figure standing by the bed with her hands on her hips!
At this moment, Bulma's beautiful eyebrows were standing on end, and a blazing fire of anger was burning in her blue eyes.
Whitley's brain was still in a half-asleep, chaotic state. Seeing Bulma, he subconsciously wanted to ask, "What's wrong? What happened? Why aren't you sleeping in this early in the morning..."
But before he could finish, the words got stuck in his throat.
Because at this moment, he could clearly feel that a furry head was resting in the crook of his arm, and a soft, warm body was pressed intimately against him...
The person in his arms... was not Bulma!
It's over! It's over! I'm BBQ'd!
Whitley's mind felt a "buzz," and he was instantly wide awake!
A cold sweat "whooshed" out on his forehead!
Only then did Whitley remember what had happened last night.
"That... Bulma, let me explain..."
Whitley quickly let go of No. 21 and sat up, forcing an awkward smile that was uglier than crying, trying to make an excuse.
However, the enraged Bulma didn't want to hear any explanation at all!
She looked at the glaring scene on the bed, especially the way No. 21 was shrinking into Whitley's arms like a frightened kitten, which made her anger flare up even more!
She glared at Whitley fiercely, then stomped her foot hard, turned around without a word, and with a "bang," slammed the door and left in a huff!
She left only Whitley, frozen on the bed with his hand outstretched, all his prepared excuses and apologies choked back by the decisive slam of the door.
"Sigh..."
Whitley let out a heavy sigh and frustratedly ran his hands through his messy hair.
This is big trouble...
He had indeed been careless last night, or rather... he had been carried away by No. 21's sudden passion and temptation.
He had been so busy... exploring the scope of a maid's service that he had completely forgotten what this bedroom meant to Bulma...
If Bulma had caught him in a guest room or even in No. 21's own room, with her personality, she would at most have been sarcastic for a few days, sulked a little, and not have gotten this angry.
But it had to be in her and his bed, the one she had slept in for many years...
This was like having her territory invaded. The nature of it was completely different!
"Sigh!"
Whitley couldn't help but sigh again and resignedly threw back the covers and began to silently get dressed.
What's done is done... I can only find a way to make up for it.
After he washed up, he had to go find Bulma immediately and apologize properly. And his attitude had to be sincere!
If that didn't work... he'd have to use other methods!
Just as he had put on his pants and was about to go to the bathroom to wash up, the blanket behind him suddenly moved.
A small, fair, and slender hand reached out from under the covers and cautiously grabbed the corner of his clothes.
Then No. 21 sat up from under the covers. Her long flaxen hair was a little messy, and her face still had a lingering blush. Her large, sky-blue eyes were now filled with tears, a pitiful and heart-wrenching sight.
"I-I'm sorry, Lord Whitley..."
Her voice was choked with sobs and trembled slightly. "It's... it's all my fault... last night... I shouldn't have come... I shouldn't have... disturbed you and Miss Bulma... it's all my fault... for making Miss Bulma angry..."
Whitley looked at her like this, his heart filled with mixed feelings.
This matter, No. 21 did have a premeditated element to it, but he himself had also lost control last night. After all, it takes two to tango.
He didn't say anything to blame her, just reached out and, with a somewhat complex expression, gently ruffled her hair as a form of comfort.
Then Whitley withdrew his hand, tied his belt, turned, and strode towards the door.
"Click."
The door was gently closed. Whitley's footsteps gradually faded down the corridor.
Hearing the footsteps completely disappear from her ears and confirming that Whitley had gone far away, on the bed, No. 21, who had been silently weeping with her shoulders shaking, suddenly froze.
She slowly raised her head. Where was the slightest hint of grievance and cowardice on her face?
On her delicate and beautiful face, a hint of a sly, successful scheme slowly appeared, and then the corners of her mouth began to uncontrollably, slowly, stretch into a curve that looked very strange!
She could no longer suppress it, and a crisp "giggle" escaped her throat.
Finally, this sound could no longer be held back and erupted into a nearly crazed laugh of extreme joy and possessiveness!
"Hee hee hee... hahaha... HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!"
No. 21 hugged the blanket and rolled around on the bed excitedly, laughing until tears streamed down her face!
The sound echoed in the empty bedroom, seeming a little creepy...
"Whitley! Whitley! My Whitley!!! You've finally... finally been eaten by me! I've finally... finally thoroughly tasted you!!! Hee hee hee hee hee... hahahahahaha!!!!!! You're mine! You're mine now!!!"
She was like a lunatic who had finally obtained a long-coveted treasure, her entire being immersed in a huge ecstasy and satisfaction.
However... her joy was short-lived.
"Click—"
The bedroom door was once again opened from the outside without any warning!
No. 21, who had been rolling wildly on the bed and laughing with abandon, was as if her neck had been suddenly squeezed. All sound and movement instantly froze!
Her reaction was astonishingly fast!
Almost at the same time as the door was pushed open, the ecstasy and distortion on her face vanished without a trace, replaced by an even weaker, even more flustered and pitiful expression than before.
She quickly pulled the blanket over half her face, leaving only a pair of large, watery eyes filled with fear and innocence.
The entire transformation process took less than a second! A textbook-level instant face-change!
Whitley poked his head in from the door with a frown.
He had been halfway down the corridor when he remembered he had forgotten his watch.
When he turned back to get it, he seemed to have vaguely heard a very strange... laugh coming from the direction of his bedroom.
He was a little worried and had hurried back.
After scanning the room, he only saw No. 21 wrapped tightly in a blanket, looking at him with a timid gaze, and nothing else.
As if that terrifying laugh was just his illusion.
"Just now... I thought I heard a very strange sound..."
Whitley said, puzzled, his gaze on No. 21. "No. 21, were you laughing? Did you have a nightmare?"
No. 21 shook her head like a rattle-drum, her voice just the right amount of weak. "N-no, Lord Whitley... I... I think I just fell asleep again... I didn't hear anything... was... was it the birds outside?"
Whitley looked at her carefully again. She did indeed look like she had just woken up.
He scratched his head. Could it be that he had really misheard?
"Oh... maybe."
He didn't pursue the matter further, walked in, picked up the watch he had forgotten on the bedside table, and skillfully put it on his wrist. "Well then, you get some more rest. I'm leaving."
"Hmm... g-good... bye."
No. 21 nodded obediently and watched as Whitley walked towards the door again.
"Click."
The door was closed once more.
This time, No. 21 didn't dare to be so complacent.
She pricked up her ears and listened carefully to the sounds outside the door. Only after confirming that Whitley's footsteps had truly gone far away and that he had really gone downstairs did she let out a sigh of relief. "That was close... I almost got caught..."
She patted her chest, a hint of lingering fear on her face.
Then she dared not delay any longer. She jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed.
Then, truly like a responsible maid, she began to tidy up the bed, which had been made very messy by the two of them last night.
First, she took off the bedsheets and duvet cover to be washed, then replaced them with new, neatly folded ones, fluffed the pillows, and even tidied up the slightly dusty areas of the room.
The current No. 21 was more than satisfied with her life here!
She no longer had to worry about the Red Ribbon Army, no longer had to do that dangerous android research. She could do whatever she wanted, and she could always stay in this home filled with a sense of security...
This peaceful and "fun" life was what she had always dreamed of!
After the entire room was cleaned, she nodded in satisfaction and let out a light breath, looking at the spotless room.
No. 21 really liked doing these trivial household chores for Whitley. It gave her a feeling of... being needed by him.
...
On the other side, with a guilty heart, he came to the dining room, preparing for a profound apology and self-criticism with Bulma.
However, in the dining room, there was only Vados, who was elegantly enjoying her breakfast, and Trunks, who was sitting not far from her, wolfing down his breakfast. Bulma and Future Bulma were nowhere to be seen.
Whitley's gaze swept across the dining room and finally landed on Vados with a question.
Vados elegantly wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin, then raised her hand and pointed towards the kitchen, a subtle smile on her face as she looked at Whitley.
Whitley immediately understood, gave Vados a grateful look, and turned to walk quickly towards the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Bulma was sitting on a high stool, a barely touched breakfast in front of her. She was holding a fork and poking at the fried egg on her plate, as if the egg were the face of a certain detestable man.
Her cheeks were puffed out, and her whole body exuded a low pressure of "I am very angry right now."
Future Bulma was sitting beside her with a helpless expression, constantly comforting her in a gentle tone. "Oh dear, it's not such a big deal. About that No. 21, didn't you tell me before that you were somewhat prepared for it in your heart? Since you already expected that this day might come, just let it go. It's not a big deal, don't take it to heart."
Hearing this, Bulma's anger flared up even more. She threw her fork onto the plate with a "clatter" and retorted irritably, "That's easy for you to say! I was a little prepared, yes! But! But! I didn't expect them... their speed to be so fast! It's only been a few days, right? Not even a full month! That bastard Whitley! And that so-called No. 21! They actually... they actually did that kind of thing in my bed!"
The more she spoke, the angrier she got, her chest heaving violently. "What does that No. 21 mean?! She just put on a maid outfit yesterday, and tonight she's already climbing into bed?! Does she not want to be a maid anymore and is planning to take the opportunity to become the mistress?! How dare she!"
Future Bulma listened to Bulma's accusations and also felt that Whitley had indeed been a bit... too hasty and inconsiderate this time.
But she still tried to mediate. After all, making things too stiff would not be good for anyone.
She sighed, moved her stool a little closer to Bulma, and then asked in a low voice, "So what are you going to do now? It's already happened. What can you do besides finding a way to forgive Whitley? You can't just keep giving him the silent treatment, right?"
"Forgive him? Hehe!"
Bulma let out a cold laugh. "I won't forgive him that easily! At worst, I'll just... I'll just..."
She "I'll just'd" for a long time, her face flushing red, but she found that she seemed to... really not have any particularly effective way to handle Whitley.
Hitting him didn't hurt, scolding him, he had thick skin, and the silent treatment... it seemed that she was usually the first to give in.
"You'll just what?"
Future Bulma looked at her loss for words and couldn't help but say half-jokingly, with a teasing tone, "Don't tell me... you're really going to divorce him?"
Bulma was just about to object, but just then,
"Click!"
The kitchen door was suddenly pushed open!
"I'm not getting a divorce!"
Whitley's voice was firm and decisive. He strode in fearlessly, his gaze locked on Bulma.
Hearing Whitley's voice, Bulma quickly turned her head away and showed him her back.
Whitley looked at Future Bulma and gave her a "leave this to me" look, nodding slightly.
Future Bulma let out a sigh of relief, quickly stood up, patted Bulma's shoulder, and whispered, "Talk it out, don't fight."
Then she quickly left the kitchen, and even thoughtfully closed the door.
But... the moment the door was closed, Future Bulma immediately dropped her mediating expression and nimbly pressed her ear against the door, her face showing undisguised gossip and curiosity!
And Vados, who had been sitting in the dining room, had now silently taken out her angel's staff. The top of the staff glowed faintly, projecting a clear image of the scene inside the kitchen...
This elegant angel had also eagerly begun to watch the live show!
Inside the kitchen, seeing that Bulma was still ignoring him, Whitley simply steeled his heart and walked to her side, plopping down on the high stool next to her.
He tentatively reached out, wanting to take the small hand that was resting on her lap.
Bulma, as if she had a radar on her hand, directly and unceremoniously slapped his hand away with a "smack" and also gave him a roll of her eyes.
Having been rebuffed, Whitley was not discouraged.
He quietly reached out his hand again, but this time, as he reached, he explained in a low, apologetic tone, "I'm sorry, what happened before was my fault. When I came back last night... I was too tired, and the room was dark. I didn't see clearly that the person in the bed... wasn't you... I was... really a little dazed from sleep, so..."
This time, perhaps because his attitude was sincere enough, or because he had mentioned that he hadn't seen clearly, Bulma did not immediately slap his hand away, and he successfully held her somewhat cold small hand.
But Bulma suddenly turned her head back, her eyes as sharp as two knives, and stared straight at him, asking back, "So... you didn't see clearly that it was me, so you could justifiably sleep with that No. 21? Is that the logic, our poor-sighted Mr. Whitley?"
Whitley: "..."
Whitley was choked by Bulma's soul-piercing question.
He opened his mouth but found that he was at a loss for words...
Bulma looked at Whitley's speechless appearance and sneered, as if talking to herself, and as if judging him. "I knew that No. 21 was no pushover! On the surface, she looks like a timid and easily manipulated girl, but I never would have thought... her mind is so deep! She would actually use such a... such a despicable method to achieve her goal! Hmph!"
As she spoke, her gaze on Whitley became even more annoyed, as if she were blaming him for falling so easily for her honey trap.
Whitley listened to Bulma's accusations. Although he also understood that No. 21 had indeed used a little trick, he himself had also... not held back last night.
Explaining this would only make things worse. Seeing that Bulma had turned her head away again and was ignoring him, Whitley steeled his heart and decided to use his ultimate killer move!
If an explanation won't work, then don't explain!
Just use actions to prove... his love for her!
He looked at Bulma, who was still angry and unwilling to talk to him, and his right hand quietly wrapped around her waist.
Then, before Bulma could react, he exerted a little force with his arm and directly lifted her from the high stool!
In her short gasp of surprise, he placed her light body on his lap, holding her in an intimate and somewhat restrictive posture.
"Y-you... what are you doing?! Let go... Whitley! Mmph..."
Bulma panicked and tried to stand up, but before she could finish, her lips were霸道地 sealed by Whitley's!
All her dissatisfaction and rebukes were blocked by this sudden, scorching kiss.
"Mmph... you... you're crazy!"
Bulma finally managed to turn her head away during a break for air, her face flushed as she said in a low voice, "Here... this is the kitchen! Wait... what if Mom or Vados and the others come in and see... see us like this... what would it look like!!"
Being reminded by her, Whitley thought it seemed to make sense.
This was, after all, a public area kitchen. Although the cooking and cleaning at home were done by robots, what if some clueless robot or Future Bulma, Vados, and the others came in curiously to check on the situation...
That scene would indeed be a bit awkward and would not be conducive to his "heart-to-heart" comforting work.
So...
He lifted Bulma up again, but not to let her go, but to take her hand and walk quickly to the kitchen door.
Then, under Bulma's confused and wary gaze, he guided her hand and had her... brace her own arm against the kitchen door.
"Y-you... what are you doing?"
Bulma, with her back to him, was completely confused, a vague sense of foreboding in her heart.
After all this was done, Whitley came up behind Bulma.
He leaned close to her ear, and his hot breath sprayed on her sensitive ear and neck as he said in a low voice that carried an unquestionable meaning, "This way... with the door 'locked,' no one can come in and disturb us... my dear wifey..."
Bulma instantly understood his intention. Her face flushed red in an instant, and even the base of her ears was dyed red!
She still wanted to make a final struggle and persuasion. "You... you bastard! Don't mess around! Not here... absolutely not... I'm still angry! You... your apology... gent... gently..."
However, her protest, in Whitley's eyes, was more like a kind of reluctant but welcoming invitation to apologize.
He bent down again and expressed his "apology" and "determination" with his actions...
Soon, Bulma's intermittent, faint protests and rebukes could be heard from the kitchen.
And then, the faint rebukes were replaced by another, even more... and even more face-reddening sound...
"You... you... bastard..."
"Mmph..."
And so, the most dangerous situation Whitley had faced since coming to Earth was, in an extremely "hardworking" way, thrillingly... passed!
And outside the kitchen door, Vados and Future Bulma, who were watching the live broadcast and eavesdropping, one covered her mouth and chuckled, the other turned red and quietly retreated...
Inside the kitchen, Whitley was still working hard to apologize. At the same time, he was deeply reflecting on his own mistakes. 'I have to be more careful in the future...'
Whitley looked at Bulma, whose body was limp and who no longer had the strength to even curse, and while secretly feeling relieved, he also sounded a warning bell for himself in his heart.
In the future, with other people, absolutely, absolutely! I can't do that kind of thing in Bulma's room anymore...
At the very least, I can't be caught by Bulma in the act!
Thinking of this, Whitley subconsciously used a little more force. After all, he was very guilty right now and needed to apologize properly to Bulma!
Bulma, who was on the verge of rolling her eyes back: "Mmph... I was wrong... I was wrong... gently... hubby!"
In Bulma's unconscious scream, after finally pacifying the angry Bulma, Whitley carefully picked up her now-limp body and quietly sent her back to the bedroom, which had already been cleaned by No. 21.
...
By lunchtime, Bulma, as expected, did not appear in the dining room.
It seemed that the morning's comforting work had indeed consumed a great deal of her stamina.
Future Bulma looked at Whitley, who had come down to eat alone, and couldn't help but come over and ask in a low, curious voice, "How did it go? Is she comforted? Is Bulma... still angry?"
A confident smile appeared on Whitley's face. He gave Future Bulma an "OK" sign and replied in a low voice, "It's handled! For now... it should be fine."
Future Bulma looked at Whitley's "everything is under control" appearance and couldn't help but feel a bit of admiration.
She herself was, in a sense, the future Bulma. She had a very clear understanding of her own stubborn, proud, and slightly willful personality.
But she never would have thought that this guy Whitley, in just one morning, had, in a... special way, managed to placate the furious Bulma?
This made her involuntarily think of the words that Trunks had said to her in private a few days ago...
About Whitley's strength, gentleness, and... that unique patience that could tolerate all of Bulma's little tempers.
This time, the ice in Future Bulma's heart seemed to have truly been touched, and the layer of reservation in her heart seemed to have cracked a little.
A man who understood her preferences so well, was willing to spend the effort to tolerate her, and was strong enough to provide shelter in any situation.
And even her own son held him in high esteem and didn't mind her and him at all...
Such a condition, for a woman who had struggled in an apocalyptic wasteland for many years and was physically and mentally exhausted, the temptation was simply too great!
She admitted, she... was shamefully moved.
It was just that when she thought of her own age, and her skin and condition, which had not been as carefully maintained as Bulma's due to living in a harsh environment for many years...
Future Bulma subconsciously raised a hand and gently stroked her own face, which was still beautiful but did indeed show the traces of time and hardship.
A faint sense of loss and self-pity quietly welled up in her heart.
Perhaps...
I really should have Trunks go and help collect the Dragon Balls of this world...
She wasn't greedy. As long as her body could return to its thirties!
Looking at Whitley sitting in front of her, Future Bulma was very confident.
A thirty-year-old version of herself, this man would definitely not be able to refuse!
...
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