In the Black Queen, there were also many hot-blooded single young men.
Most of them admired Chloe, and when they looked at Goluthos, many of their eyes held other intentions.
Serie had no solution for this.
She certainly didn't want to be like a piece of fatty meat, being coveted wherever she went, but Serie couldn't physically castrate them, could she?
Ultimately, this was a normal physiological reaction. Serie herself used to be a young Chu Nan, so she understood it very well, and truly had no solution.
She was fully dressed, and the rustling sound of fabric friction was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.
Almost simultaneously, Chloe, who had been facing the wall in reflection, seemed to finally confirm that it was safe behind her, and cautiously turned around.
The two looked at each other, and an awkward yet ambiguous atmosphere filled the air.
Their eyes met.
The air seemed to solidify.
Even the dust motes floating in the lamplight were clearly visible.
Neither spoke first, their gazes briefly colliding then quickly darting away, like startled birds.
Ultimately, it was Chloe who first broke the suffocating silence.
She cleared her throat, her gaze somewhat unfocused as it fell on the pothos on the table, her voice a few shades lower than usual, carrying a rare hint of hesitation and nervousness:
"Uh... about yesterday..."
Yesterday's matter?
Serie blinked, her green eyes still holding traces of the previous embarrassment and a hint of bewilderment.
Yesterday... besides soaking in the hot spring, was there anything else special...?
The next second, the steamy warmth of the hot spring pool, the sensation of water droplets sliding over skin, and... certain unavoidable, close-range physical contact scenes, rushed into her mind like an incoming tide!
Especially Chloe's neatly manicured, long, slender fingers with distinct knuckles...
Boom—!
Serie only felt a wave of heat, even more ferocious than before, instantly engulfing her entire body, burning from the base of her neck all the way to the tips of her ears!
Even her delicate nose tip turned pink.
Oh... it, it was that matter...!
Chloe's voice carried a cautious probing, not daring to look at Serie: "...You... didn't you like it?"
Although the records stated that the female warriors of the Goluthos civilization did indeed comfort and reward each other in this way, upon reflection, Chloe herself felt it was somewhat abrupt, fearing she had displeased Goluthos.
The blush on Serie's face had not yet faded. Hearing this, she looked up, her deep green eyes gazing directly at Chloe, with no trace of disgust or reluctance, only a lingering shyness and... honesty.
She shook her head forcefully, very seriously, with a small but undeniable certainty.
She even parted her lips slightly. Although no sound came out, her mouth formed a clear, silent phrase—
"I liked it."
This silent response was like a pebble thrown into the lake of Chloe's heart, instantly creating huge ripples!
Chloe's eyes, which always carried responsibility and worry, were now astonishingly bright, filled with surprise and unbelievable joy, as if she had instantly become ten years younger, like a little girl who had received her most beloved candy.
"Really?!" She practically blurted it out, her voice carrying a lightness she herself didn't notice.
After receiving Serie's firm nod of confirmation again, Chloe's smile fully bloomed, radiating a sense of relief.
She even instinctively shifted forward by half a step, her voice softening a few shades, carrying a clumsy but sincere promise: "Then... that's wonderful! From now on... if you ever feel tired, or want to relax, I, I can help you anytime!"
"My technique... should be alright?"
Serie averted her gaze upon hearing this, recalling the ripples in the hot spring last night.
It was more than just alright...
Meanwhile, on the other side.
Melbourne, at the Neon Shadow Bar.
The air was filled with a mixture of perfume, sweat, and alcohol.
The electronic music, which vibrated one's chest, was like a tangible tide, crashing in waves upon the wildly swaying crowd on the dance floor.
Hypnotic laser beams cut through the pervasive dry ice smoke, dyeing everything an unreal bluish-purple hue.
At the heart of this boiling sea of desire, at the highest point of the DJ booth, there was an out-of-place presence—a small flowerpot.
Planted inside it was the Joy Witch.
At this moment, the tiny flower bud was bathed in dazzling lights and deafening sound waves, its stem twisting wildly with the strong music, its petals opening and closing, as if silently screaming and cheering, greedily absorbing the fervent joy pervading the entire space!
The atmosphere here, for the Joy Witch, was simply a paradise-level nutrient solution.
Just then, the nightclub's thick soundproof door was pushed open.
A figure, just as out of place among the surrounding young men and women with bluish-purple hair and bold, trendy clothes, stumbled in.
It was Riley.
Her blonde hair under the fast-food restaurant baseball cap seemed a bit messy, and her small face under red-framed glasses was dotted with a few freckles.
She frowned, clearly unaccustomed to the overly intense sensory bombardment here, covering one ear with a hand, while her other hand laboriously pushed through the crowded people, her anxious gaze urgently searching the dance floor and booths.
In a booth at the edge of the dance floor, a back with bright bluish-purple short hair caught her eye.
Even more glaringly, that back was embracing people left and right!
One arm rested casually on the shoulder of a provocatively dressed girl nearby, while the other hand held a drink and chatted animatedly with a boy.
That Billie, she said she would spend the weekend with her, but she still came here to seek pleasure?!
And she even put on makeup especially!
Riley pursed her lips, pushed aside the people in her way, and rushed furiously to the booth, forcefully slapping the person's shoulder: "Billie! You..."
The person turned their head at the sound.
A completely unfamiliar face.
Although the hairstyle and clothing style were mimicked perfectly, the facial features and temperament were poles apart from Billie's dangerous, current-like allure.
"Uh... sorry, wrong person." Riley's face instantly flushed crimson, so embarrassed she wished she could find a hole to crawl into.
She apologized quickly, fleeing in disarray under the teasing gazes of that person and their companions, her heart still pounding wildly.
Half was embarrassment, half was unvented frustration.
Where on earth was Billie?
She definitely wasn't doing anything good!
Riley angrily entered the corridor and walked towards the deeper private rooms.
Just then, her left shoulder was gently tapped.
Riley instinctively turned her head to look—
There were only a few strangers wildly headbanging to the music, the lights flashing across their intoxicated faces, and no one was looking at her.
She frowned, thinking she had accidentally bumped into someone.
She paid no mind and continued to squeeze further in.
After only two steps, her right shoulder was tapped again!
This time the force was clearer.
"Who is it?!" Riley turned back again, a little impatiently.
But behind her were still swaying figures and psychedelic light beams; she couldn't find the person who tapped her at all.
She was seething with anger, about to erupt—
"Riley—! Look up—!"
Riley suddenly looked up!
Towards the ceiling of the corridor—
She saw Billie steadily "standing" on it!
That's right, standing! Her feet seemed to defy gravity, stepping on an invisible platform.
Where her shoe soles met the ceiling, faint, subtle, bluish-purple electromagnetic arcs flickered like living things, emitting soft "crackling" sounds, firmly adhering her to the vertical surface.
Riley froze instantly, her mouth slightly agape, her red-framed glasses almost slipping down her nose.
"Bi, Billie?! Who hung you on the ceiling?!"
Billie:...?
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