Late at night, and you crawl under my bed to cry over a pig—and tell a ghost story?
I could kill you, you lunatic!
The ghost story began.
That magnetic voice drifted out: "A long, long time ago, there was a girl named Sadako. She died—miserably, terribly… so she liked to crawl out of the TV…"
Pansy swallowed, feeling like she'd go crazy if this kept up.
"I-I'm afraid of ghosts. Where is Ms. Shaina, please?"
She couldn't help asking.
Damian clasped his hands behind his back and declared, "Shaina received the Pope's order again and left the Sanctuary on a mission."
"I-Is that so?"
Pansy shuddered all over and slumped onto the bed, life meaningless.
Shaina, her umbrella, had gone off on a mission again.
The moment she least wanted had arrived.
Who knew what weird thing this senior brother might do to her.
No way—I'm not staying with this psycho!
Pansy roared inside.
"So, I'll be the one supervising your training."
Damian announced with a grin: "No more ghost stories. We're doing Q&A. No reward for right answers; wrong answers get punished."
"Question."
"A man as handsome and dashing as your senior brother, a man with a bountiful harvest of the five grains—what kind of woman should he choose as a partner?"
Damian put his hands behind his back and moved straight into quiz mode, not giving her room to refuse or stall.
"S-Senior brother, this, um… I'm still little. I don't know!"
Pansy was deeply annoyed.
Why did this cracked-brain senior brother ask a question with nothing to do with training?
And also, is "bountiful harvest" used to describe a person?
"Can't answer—minus ten."
Damian raised an index finger, traced an S in the air, and smiled. "Senior brother likes willowy, full-figured ladies with long legs, especially S-curve types. A pretty face is a plus. I also like a serpent-fine jawline and peach-blossom eyes."
Pansy scratched her head and suddenly said, "Wait… isn't Ms. Shaina just like that? Do you like Ms. Shaina?"
To be fair, Shaina was tall, sharp-chinned, and curvy, with a pair of long legs.
She had seen Shaina's real face—Shaina was very pretty, with refined features, and a pair of foxy, alluring eyes. Those long, sultry eyes were beautiful—especially when she rolled them—even Pansy as a woman found it seductive.
A pity Shaina always wore a mask, so no one ever saw her face.
"Shaina? Wrong, wrong, wrong."
Damian shook his head slightly. "Ms. Shaina's too sharp-tongued—not my type!"
"Also, Shaina's temper is irritable—always baring fangs and brandishing claws. That's clearly from going without a man too long. And when she walks, it's like a gale—a tigress."
Damian griped.
Pansy suddenly wanted to laugh.
Shaina was bold in her actions, often snarled at men, and was taller than some male Saints. In strength she was no worse than most male Saints.
Damian must be afraid of women like that.
"Question."
"Pansy, if a traitor appeared in our Sanctuary, which way would senior brother punish the traitor?"
Damian raised three fingers.
"One: throw the traitor into a cesspit to soak for forty-nine days and turn her into a human stinking salted fish."
"Two: set the traitor astride a wooden donkey, strip her naked, carry the donkey around the Sanctuary for public shaming, then strip her of the five senses and toss her into a pack of old bachelors to be defiled."
"Three: send the traitor into my room and let me serve her for forty-nine days with whip and wax—then strangle her."
With each item, Pansy felt her heart twitch hard.
These were cruel punishments to the extreme—some she had never even heard of—and they seemed to target women.
She was still little—how would she know all this?
What is a wooden donkey?
Damian's beyond-the-pale "early education" made her hair stand on end. Was he hinting at something?
Of course, she didn't think her disguise had any flaw.
I am just a child!
Damian said calmly, "Now choose. Wrong answer, minus ten."
"The third?"
Pansy deliberately hesitated for a bit, then answered on purpose.
"Incorrect. Minus ten!"
Damian raised a second finger without mercy. "I have no feelings for traitors—not even a touch. I'd publicly whip her first, hard, then whip her every day—keep it up for the better part of a year."
"Watching her wail and flail would be entertaining. I can see it now!"
How vile, how heartless, how shameless!
Pansy sighed inwardly. Damian's brain really wasn't like normal people's; his ways and thoughts were beyond prediction.
She steadied herself and tried again. "It should be the first one."
"Wrong again. Minus ten!"
Damian raised a third finger and sighed. "Senior brother is absolutely ruthless toward traitors. Dumping in the latrine is a given. But I'd first slice her with a thousand cuts, carve countless wounds, then throw her into the cesspit and watch her rot."
"A thousand cuts is bad enough—and you'd cut there…"
Pansy's mind scrambled. She asked weakly, "Senior brother, even for a traitor, do you have to use such cruel torture?"
"Remember this, Pansy. Traitors and moles are the most shameful, the most despicable, the most despised. If I learn who the traitor is—even if I meet her at the toilet—I'll drown her in the latrine."
A mad killing intent flashed in Damian's eyes as he said coldly, "A traitor should die without burial—peeling skin, drawing tendons, a thousand cuts won't ease my hatred. Pansy, if you ever become a traitor, don't blame me for being cruel."
"Do you understand?"
"I understand!"
Pansy trembled all over and nodded hard, tears glinting in her eyes.
As commander of the Underworld's army, the woman Lord Hades trusted most, she hadn't been scared into this life. But right now she truly was.
Damian's almost tangible killing aura left her terrified. The pressure nearly stopped her heart. She almost couldn't move.
At that moment, she was a little dazed, truly wondering if he had seen through her identity.
When the killing aura ebbed, she sucked in a breath and blurted, "Senior brother, I guess you'll choose the second anyway, right? You'll pick one."
"All wrong—minus twenty."
Damian extended two more fingers and said slowly, "Only children do multiple choice. Adults choose all of the above."
He smiled—wickedly, imperiously.
Pansy's heart shattered into pieces.
You're choosing all of them!
Then why did you make me choose?
Clearly he was toying with her.
"Senior brother, you're messing with me. I refuse to accept this."
Pansy pouted, wearing a sulky look.
"Doesn't matter if you accept it. I only know you've lost fifty points. Every ten points activates a finger. My big palm is fully activated. Time to spank…"
"Sp-spank!?"
She jolted, gathering what little divine power she had and really about to summon the divine trident.
If you touch me, I'll fight you to the end!
An evil glint flashed in Damian's eyes. His knuckles cracked:
"Tell me—were you the one who talked Shaina into putting me in the Cloth battle?"