I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

On the flip side, “The Snow” Ophelia Sterling didn’t seem to harbor any intense wariness toward her. Was it pure, unadulterated confidence in her own power, figuring she could squash any hidden threats? Or was it because the first time they met, Pandora had only displayed Rank-2 strength, making the leap to Rank-3 seem... relatively normal by comparison?

Pandora didn’t entirely get what was going on in The Snow’s head, but she wasn’t sweating it.

It was a secondary issue anyway. The main quest right now was Amanda’s commission: planting those special seeds in this Fragment World and trying to cultivate Rank-4 extraordinary materials.

But, as anyone who’s ever played a farming sim knows, agriculture looks chill but is actually a massive grind. You can’t rush it. Plus, farming came with a ton of idle downtime. She needed to figure out how to spend that time, too.

She had a Rank-6 meditation method and a fairly complete wizardry knowledge base now. There was no excuse to slack off anymore. It was time to systematically push her own growth.

Power meant keeping herself and the people she cared about safe. It meant seeing the broader world and digging up the truth hidden behind the mysteries.

As for Faye...

Pandora pulled the round-trip ticket with the handwriting on it out of her potion pouch again. Squinting in the rooftop sunlight, she read it.

Written in elegant, flowery cursive was a very brief message:

“Have fun!”

The penmanship was smooth, even carrying a hint of mischief.

Pandora shook her head and tucked the ticket away. Reaching across the void to drop her into another world, just to tell her to “have fun”? Sometimes... she really couldn’t wrap her head around “her” thought process.

The thought flashed and was gone. Pandora recentered herself.

She looked at the door wreathed in faint blue smoke, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Alright, we gave them a decent head start. Time for us to head out.”

Her voice was light, but laced with certainty. “It’s still anyone’s game.”

“Yes, My Lady!”

The blood-red flames in Elsa’s eyes seemed to dance as she instantly replied.

..................

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As Pandora and Elsa’s figures departed, only the six-person squad remained on the roof.

Betty quietly pulled her gaze away from the spot where Pandora had vanished. She subconsciously twisted her fingers, burying that complicated, hard-to-define emotion deep in the bottom of her heart.

Sure, “Lady Pandora” was a high-and-mighty Rank-3 now, but she... she wasn’t doing too bad herself, right?

Not long ago, she’d finally hit Rank-2 right before the Academy’s deadline. Now she had a squad of reliable teammates to fight alongside. That wasn’t bad at all...

“Betty!”

The squad leader’s voice suddenly snapped, dragging her out of her spiral.

She flinched, quickly snapping to attention to meet the sharp-eyed youth’s gaze.

“What are you spacing out for?” the leader frowned, a hint of irritation in his voice. “We’ve got a lot on our plate!”

“Sorry,” Betty immediately lowered her head, murmuring.

“Betty,” the leader’s tone softened a fraction, but stayed strict. “The Rank-3 adults have their own things to handle, but our workload is just as heavy, and just as critical.”

“You and Kyle are pairing up to handle the preliminary recon and logging of those two streets over there. Remember: be thorough, but don’t draw unnecessary attention.” He pointed at another short-haired guy in the squad who looked pretty quick on his feet.

“Stop spacing out,” the leader stressed. “We need to wrap up our assigned tasks before the higher-ups regroup. That’s our job, and it’s the only reason this support squad exists. Make sense?”

“Yes! I’ve got it!”

Betty stood rigid, answering tightly and earnestly.

As a member of the squad, enjoying the squad’s protection meant she had to pull her weight. She’d learned that lesson thoroughly over the past two years.

Freed from the constraints of her old master-servant dynamic, baptized by the Academy’s more modern, individual-contract ethos, she had earned her “freedom.”

This was it. Teammates. Responsibilities. Missions to complete. Rules to follow.

Though... it didn’t quite look like the unrestricted, wild “freedom” she’d originally pictured...

None of the other five knew the thoughts flashing through Betty’s head. And honestly, even if they did, they probably wouldn’t care. Everyone had their own path to walk, their own cross to bear.

The three Rank-3 big shots might have bounced with a casual, game-like attitude, but this Rank-2 squad didn’t have that luxury.

As a support unit, being exempt from the heavy lifting of killing Anomalies meant they had to nail the intel gathering, environmental scouting, and strategy planning. The boring but vital stuff. That was their lane. Their survival strategy.

The leader swept his gaze over his team again, his voice low.

“Alright, everyone knows their gig. Move out. Stay safe, keep comms open.”

“Yes, sir!”

The group murmured their affirmations and quickly dispersed.

The roof fell silent again. Only the brutal summer sun remained, relentlessly baking the gray-white stone slabs.

..................

Inside the stairwell, the light was dim. The windows lining the corridors were shut tight; only stray fingers of sunlight pried through the curtain gaps, casting thin strips of light across the floor.

Poppy’s abilities were shining right about now.

The delicate hose of her hookah puffed out near-invisible wisps of pale blue smoke with every casual flick of her wrist. She parted her lips, taking a slow drag before exhaling.

The smoke moved like a living organism, rapidly expanding and silently flooding the interior corridors of the school building.

It carried a faint sweetness—like some unknown floral blend mixed with a cool mint. It didn’t choke the throat; honestly, it smelled pretty pleasant.

On the third floor, a male teacher in a grey suit, clutching a few lesson plans under his arm, was briskly walking toward his office.

Suddenly, he stopped.

He sniffed the air, his brow furrowing as he looked suspiciously down the corridor.