TYPnovel Chapter 65 : Not Bad Taste
Chapter 65 : Not Bad Taste
Chapter 65: Not Bad Taste
Leaning against the cold wall outside the Bedchamber, Lilia raised her hand and rubbed her face hard.
That damned ring.
She jogged all the way back to her room.
Opening the system panel, the 【Maid Workshop】 interface was flashing red.
【Issuing new equipment…】
【Obtained: Iron-Blooded Rose · Zero Form (Combat Maid Outfit)】
As the light faded, a neatly folded set of clothes appeared on the bed.
There were no lace trims, no unnecessary bows, not even the iconic white apron.
Instead, it was a uniform dominated by dark red and ink black.
Lilia shook the outfit open.
The fabric felt slightly heavy in her hands. The upper half had a tight, waist-cinching design, with a structured collar and lightweight black iron armor embedded at the shoulders. The lower half was a pleated short skirt suited for movement, with faintly visible sharp metallic fasteners hidden beneath the hem.
This wasn’t a maid outfit at all—it looked like someone had violently stitched together Assassin aesthetics with a maid café uniform.
“System, isn’t this a bit inappropriate for working in a study?”
The system played dead, only displaying a small line of text on the panel:
【Defense +50, Agility +20, Comes with skill: Hidden Weapon Mastery.】
…Fine.
Lilia was tempted by the skill.
She quickly stripped off her tattered clothes and changed into the new equipment.
The moment the zipper closed, a strange sense of enclosure spread across her body. The outfit was extremely form-fitting, perfectly outlining the already unfair curves of her body—but without any seductive intent. Instead, it carried a sharp, unapproachable chill.
Finally, she pulled on the over-the-knee black combat boots, the soles hitting the floor with a dull, solid thud.
Lilia stood before the full-length mirror.
The person in the mirror had silver hair cascading like a waterfall, deep crimson eyes, and a black-and-red combat uniform tightly wrapped around her figure. Tactical thigh packs were strapped to the outer sides of her legs, making her look both dangerous and restrained.
If she didn’t speak, she looked exactly like a cold, elite assassin.
“This actually… looks pretty combat-ready.”
Lilia spun once, her skirt flaring up and carrying a gust of cold air.
This outfit gave her a strange sense of security.
Taking a deep breath, Lilia pushed open the door.
She still had to go back.
She made her way back to the Bedchamber entrance without obstruction.
Hearing the door open, Hera turned her head. Seeing Lilia’s new attire, she said, “Not bad.”
Hearing Hera’s praise, Lilia felt an inexplicable hint of joy.
The two walked out of the Bedchamber one after the other.
The study was brightly lit.
Lilia walked straight toward her small desk.
“Stop.”
Lilia’s left foot, which had just stepped forward halfway, froze midair before she pulled it back and stood at attention. “Master?”
Hera extended a finger, pointing to the spot beside her.
“Come here.”
Lilia froze.
“There?” She pointed at herself, then at the indicated spot, trying to confirm she hadn’t misheard. “Master, my desk is over—”
“I won’t repeat myself.”
Lilia shuddered. Her survival instinct instantly took over, her legs moving faster than her brain as she rushed to Hera’s side in a few quick steps.
She didn’t dare make a sound, hands folded in front of her, eyes lowered.
The study was filled only with the rustling sound of a feather pen against parchment.
This silence was torture.
Lilia felt like a student called to stand beside the podium by the homeroom teacher, forced to watch her own zero-point test paper being graded.
Suddenly, a sheet of parchment was tossed in front of her.
“Take a look.”
Hera didn’t even raise her head, already moving on to the next document.
Lilia hurriedly caught the paper.
It was a production report on a magic crystal vein in the western frontier. Dense rows of numbers made her dizzy, and at the bottom was a long complaint from the person in charge—talking about depletion of the vein, labor unrest, and requesting a reduction in quota.
“This…” Lilia hesitated.
“Tell me your thoughts.”
Lilia’s brain spun rapidly. This was clearly a test question—if she answered wrong, she might lose favor or even her head. She didn’t understand mining in the Demon Realm, but this kind of “crying poor” tactic wasn’t any different from budget requests being rejected.
She quickly scanned the data and pointed to a line in the middle. “This part… doesn’t add up.”
The pen in Hera’s hand paused as she turned her head slightly. “Oh?”
“The labor loss rate doesn’t match the output ratio.” Lilia steadied herself, her finger tracing across the parchment. “The report says riots halted work for half a month, but food consumption during the same period increased by 15%. If work stopped, then who’s eating all this food? Unless those skeleton soldiers suddenly developed huge appetites.”
She paused, then continued bravely, “Also, if the vein were depleted, the purity of the magic crystals should drop, and the waste rate should increase. But here, the waste rate also decreased. That doesn’t make sense.”
“Conclusion.” Hera looked at her, her golden eyes unreadable.
“Either the person in charge is lying and embezzling production,” Lilia swallowed, giving the most direct judgment, “or something else is being raised in the mine—and he’s using public resources to maintain private troops.”
The air froze for a few seconds.
Lilia felt sweat forming on her back. Had she said too much?
A cold smile appeared—but it wasn’t directed at Lilia.
“Private troops.”
Hera repeated the words. Her tone revealed nothing.
“A pack of dogs that can’t be fed full.”
Though her voice was calm, the aura she emitted made Lilia tremble.
She turned her head to look at the trembling Lilia, the frost in her eyes melting slightly.
“Not bad judgment.”
Hera leaned back in her chair, tilting her chin upward, her slender neck exposed like a black swan waiting to have its feathers groomed.
“What are you standing there for?”
Lilia instantly understood Hera’s meaning.
“What, do you want me to write you an application?” Hera didn’t open her eyes, her tone lazy.
“No! Coming right away!”
Lilia took a deep breath and walked behind the high-backed chair.
The gloves of the “Iron-Blooded Rose” outfit were fingerless, exposing her fingertips.
【God-Tier Massage Technique】 activated.
Magic seeped through her fingertips.
A soft, muffled moan escaped from Hera’s nose. The tightly furrowed space between her brows instantly relaxed. The sound was soft and alluring, making Lilia’s ears tingle—she almost pressed in the wrong place.
Hera’s breathing deepened, her entire body sinking into the chair.
The study fell silent, save for the faint rustling of paper stirred by the wind.
Lilia’s gaze drifted downward, looking at Hera’s completely unguarded nape. Who would have thought that this tyrant—who could shake the Abyss with a single stomp—was now obediently humming under her hands?
A strange sense of accomplishment rose within her.
“That report just now,” Hera suddenly spoke, her eyes still closed, “what was the name of the person in charge of that mine again?”