Chapter 5

Sinderel's hand reached above his shoulder, and the long shadow of his fingers was cast on the bath towel, like a hideous ghost hand.

Opesha was so frightened that she immediately moved away.

No! She doesn't need it! Don't touch her!

In this panic, she forgot to control her mouth, and it started moving uncontrollably again: "Put your dirty hands away, don't touch me!"

Sinderel paused and slowly withdrew his hand.

As soon as she said this, Opesa felt completely hopeless and felt like she was just a shell.

She had thought of thousands of ways to die, but the most terrifying one was that the other party pretended to be obedient and silent, and then suddenly jumped up and broke her neck.

But Sinderel was just like that now, standing at the right side with lowered head and submissive look, always holding the revealing nightgown in his hand.

The mission was more important. She gritted her teeth and took off her bathrobe. She had already wrapped herself tightly with a base layer underneath. She just had to wait for Sinderel to put on her nightgown.

"Raise your hands." Sinderel's voice was like a ghost, quietly moving from the right to the left. Because he was barefoot, there was no sound of footsteps, and wearing a white dress, he looked more like a ghost full of coldness.

Opesa obediently raised her arms, her body straightened, and the pair of beautiful bones on her thin back became more distinct.

And all of this was seen by Sinderel behind him.

Although the woman wrapped herself up like a dumpling with her undershirt, her beautiful bones were not covered. Instead, they appeared and disappeared with the slight trembling of her arms, like a butterfly that would flap its wings and fly away in the next second.

Unfortunately, the butterfly was too fragile, so fragile that he could even break its beautiful wings with his bare hands.

The closer he got, the faint fragrance that he had previously thought was an illusion suddenly appeared, tickling his nostrils, penetrating into his body, and lingering around his slowly beating heart, lingering for a long time.

The heart that had been so quiet that he had long thought it was incorruptible began to beat violently. The heat generated by the atrium quickly spread along the blood vessels, and even his mouth and tongue began to dry out.

He had never experienced this kind of feeling before. Even when killing people, he could remain calm. But now, just being close to someone made him feel upset.

He hated this feeling. Sinderel frowned.

Murder began to appear in his eyes, and his mind was flashing with thoughts of killing her. His hand was already close to her neck. With just a slight twist, the woman would fall down and become a meal for his mouse friends.

But his actions went against his will, and he slowly reached out towards the woman's hand.

He reached out and grabbed one of the woman's hands. It was still very thin, so thin that he could hold it with half a hand. But in order to hide his gender, he deliberately used some force and gently led the arm through the clothes.

The reflective black silk was like flowing water, undulating along the direction of his and her arms. Soon the water dried up, and under the slightly rough, semi-transparent black gauze, the skin was like wet paper, and the purple blood vessels on the slender wrists were visible.

As his arms slowly lowered, the semi-transparent sleeves looked even more seductive. The pale moonlight poured down on the gauze, causing him to look deep into the cuffs unconsciously. But soon, the narrow gap disappeared into darkness.

He leaned down and happened to see the bottomless ravine. The irritation became even worse. He looked away, but his attention still stayed on her, this time, on her slender waist that could be held in one hand.

His hands were wrapped around the slender waist, yet maintaining just the right amount of space between them. His fingers, as staggered as bamboo joints, deftly threaded the silk ribbons of the fishbone dress. He didn't dare use force, for fear of stretching the uneven veins on the back of his hands.

The waist is made even more slender by the fishbone dress, but because the curve is too perfect, the waistline adds a sense of sharpness, like a bowstring that is about to shoot the heart.

But he was not the only one who was confused at this time, but also Opesha in his arms.

She dared not move, and could only let others manipulate her branches and leaves like a plant. Sinderel was too close, and his breath hit her shoulders and neck in waves, making her shiver.

She was always worried that Sinderel would suddenly kill her, and the more she thought about it, the more terrifying it became.

Her heartbeat was so intense she almost exploded. She thought back on her entire life, but she couldn't figure out what she had done to deserve such punishment.

She had no idea she had a scent, and the more nervous she became, the stronger the scent became.

She also didn't know that Xindrel was trying his best to suppress his murderous intent and resisting the urge to strangle her neck with his hands.

This dress may look complicated, but because it is pajamas, apart from tying the belt, the rest is just a matter of putting it on your head.

After fastening his belt, Sinderel stepped back a few steps and said, "Alright."

"Okay." Opesha's forehead was about to break out in sweat again. It was too torturous.

Opesa stood in front of the mirror with her eyes closed. After countless mental preparations, she finally convinced herself to open her eyes.

Sinderel stood in the shadows, narrowing his eyes slightly.

That was an absolute stunner.

The woman in the mirror perfectly mastered the nightgown—she was already tall and beautiful, and the black color accentuated her skin's fairness, even creating a sense of fragility. Perhaps because the ribbon was tied so tightly, it only served to highlight her exquisite figure, revealing a bottomless cleavage, a slender waist barely slender enough to be held in one hand, and the high-slit skirt made her legs appear even longer.

Her figure was already excellent, and she had a brilliant face. Her long, curly brown hair casually draped over her shoulders and neck made her even more charming. Perhaps it was because it was late at night, her purple eyes shone even brighter, like a thousand stars shining together.

For the first time, Sinderel looked this witch-like woman in the face.

Beautiful, indeed. But so what? After achieving his goal, he would still kill her with a dagger without hesitation.

And Opesha was still immersed in admiring her own beauty.

Not to mention others, even Opesha herself couldn't take her eyes off it, and her face turned red and her mouth became dry.

Too beautiful, too beautiful indeed, to think she had found herself in such a body? Opesa was short of words and could only twist her body from side to side, her eyes filled with admiration for herself.

It's a pity that such a beautiful person got the villain's script and ended up being the most pure and brainless villain here. Thinking of this, Opesa clicked her tongue regretfully.

[Task progress: 1/3, consciousness value reduced by 33%]

Okay, the appreciation is over. Opesa forced herself to look away. There was no time to look any further. She had to complete her next task - to apply medicine to Sinderel.

She had already placed the medicine on the table. Now she just had to keep her mouth shut and let Sinderel administer the medicine. This was much easier than other tasks.

On the contrary, it was the last free play that really made her feel embarrassed.

After putting on his clothes, Sinderel made a gesture to leave.

Opesa called out to him, "Wait." She still had a mission to complete.

Sinderel returned to a position five steps away and asked, "Anything else?"

Opesa sat back in the soft chair, leaning on the armrest, holding her chin and began to think about how to proceed next.

"Kneel down—put on my shoes. I can consider applying the medicine for you."

Opesha:!

She hadn't even started to speak yet! Why was that stupid mouth moving again?

She really saw the murderous intent in Sinderel's eyes!

Opesha: "Why are you staring at me? If you keep staring at me, I'll dig out those beautiful eyes of yours and feed them to the dogs."

Opesha: ...

It’s no use. We should give the medicine to them quickly and let them go. The less hatred they have, the better. Life is more important.

She just picked up the medicine on the table, but found that her hands were out of control and the medicine was tightly clenched in her hands. Then, her legs also joined in the fun and crossed their legs.

She leaned forward uncontrollably and said, "Come on, good girl, your mother will apply the medicine for you."

Their completely arrogant and condescending attitude would make anyone who saw them think they were master and servant, not mother and daughter.

Sinderel should be angry.

He had already figured out how to get rid of the maid Holly. Perhaps tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, the old woman would get the retribution she deserved.

He knew that this woman calling him here would not be a good thing, so he let the rats stay here long ago.

It was only a matter of time before he would kill the woman in front of him, or he could kill her right here and right now without even the help of the ubiquitous rats.

Having stayed in those dark areas for a long time, he already knew the fatal parts of the human body, so treating this woman was effortless for him.

As soon as he moved his hand, he smelled that wonderful fragrance again.

He couldn't smell it when he was far away, but now he can still smell it clearly even at such a distance.

Same smell as on the handkerchief.

Those scents were not present on those items before. They were all crudely made and vulgar. For him with a sensitive sense of smell, it was an invisible torture and disgusting.

The fragrance appeared suddenly.

He changed his mind. Immediately, immediately, he was going to control her here, force her to move the house, and then kill her.

But suddenly, he felt the round and smooth touch of his palm.

When he came back to his senses and looked, he didn't realize that he had been holding that snow-white and tender foot. On the protruding ankle, the capillaries were clear, and the skin was so thin that it was almost transparent. White occupied his entire vision.

The desire suddenly turned into a violent desire, wanting to crush the thin ankle bone with force.

He was half-conscious as he put on Opesha's pointed-toe slippers, and it wasn't until both feet were fully clothed that he realized what he had done.

Sinderel bit his cheek hard.

Is he crazy, or is this woman a witch?

No, if she was a witch, she wouldn't have needed to keep me here until now. She must have used some kind of witchcraft.

What exactly is that fragrance that can actually control people's hearts?

The veins on Xindrel's forehead were bulging and he frowned tightly, but fortunately his bangs blocked his brows and the woman didn't notice his abnormality.

The woman stepped on his shoulder.

"—Alright." The woman gave another order, her tone rising, her words filled with unconcealed joy. "Take off your shirt and turn your back to me. I'll give you the tip of my shoe and use it to apply the medicine on you."

Unable to resist.

Sinderel was still squatting at the edge of her skirt. Looking from the bottom up, the candlelight illuminated Opesa's profile, making her beautiful face with arrogance even more charming, exuding an inexplicable charm that made people surrender voluntarily.

The fine-textured black satin outlined the contours of the legs. Because they were crossed and lifted, the unrestricted long legs were exposed to the air. The high-slit restricted area could barely cover the hips, yet it kept catching his gaze. The sensitivity of his vision and smell reached an unprecedented peak, making his brain a mess.

As if possessed by some mysterious force, he turned around on his own initiative.

As the buttons came off, Sinderel was completely confused about his thoughts.

The clothes slipped off, and the criss-crossing whip marks appeared in Opessa's sight.

The whip marks were deeper than the last and looked like they had been simply treated, but tissue fluid was still seeping out from the wounds. If ointment was not applied, the wounds would definitely become infected.

Opesa held the medicine in her hand, her subjective consciousness was clear, but she could not move against the original owner's wishes. She frantically tried to seize control, but could only watch herself unscrew the bottle and then slowly fall on Sinderel's back.

The more nervous she became, the deeper the imperceptible fragrance on her body became.

The cold ointment slowly slid down from top to bottom. She saw Xindrell shudder and his mouth moved again: "Don't be afraid, dear."

She turned her ankles, and the smooth tips of her shoes, covered with white ointment, slowly moved along his thin, straight back.

The movement was gentle, like the careless flick of a fish's soft tail fin, invading his abdomen with an unbearable tingling sensation. The tingling sensation penetrated his skin, spread along his bones, and spread to every part of his body. His entire body became like cotton, motionless, waiting to be plucked.

The fragrance became stronger and stronger. He could not see his own red cheeks at this moment, but could only hear the crackling sound of the candlelight.

And that deafening heartbeat.

The flickering candlelight swayed, casting his and her shadows on the wall.

The woman was in a superior position, and he surrendered to the tip of her shoe, bending slightly, letting her toy with him. The fragrance also became a seasoning, stimulating his already restless nerves.

He knelt there in humiliation, feeling almost crushed.

But he felt a strange feeling like a madman, which was the hatred that had been stored for a long time.

The tip of his shoe was sometimes up, sometimes down, and he couldn't predict where he would be favored next.

He even felt that the injuries on his body were still too few - he suddenly didn't want it to end so soon.

Because he wants to remember this hatred forever.

He felt his breathing becoming heavier, his Adam's apple rolling and making him feel like it was about to explode. His body also broke out in a thin layer of sweat, which sparkled in the candlelight, as if it were inlaid with countless sparkling gems.

Time faded away and he himself didn't even remember how much time had passed.

I only remember that when the woman stopped, the feeling did not disappear, it was still running rampant in my body, hot and scorching.

Like magma about to erupt.

But it was all hatred, he knew.

Before he could recover, Opesa behind him finally regained control of her body.

Opesha had never been so desperate.

What the hell is this! Why is she still playing when her account is already ruined? Just cancel it.

When she couldn't control her body just now, she noticed a dagger that Sinderel had hidden in the interlayer.

Sinderel must have carried this dagger with him to protect himself.

All the messes have been thrown to her. It's only the first day. Can she survive tonight? It looks very unlikely.

Although it was inexplicably... a little exciting, she couldn't enjoy it at all.

Sinderel was still kneeling in front, putting on his clothes bit by bit. He looked so angry that his eyes were about to burst. Opesa was so scared that her hands and feet were cold, and her brain was working fast to think of words to smooth things over.

[Mission completed, the original owner's consciousness has returned to zero, please continue to work hard]

Opesha:?

Success?

Wasn’t there another task? How come it succeeded directly?

Is there a bug in the system again?

Before she could figure out what was going on, Xindrel had already put on his clothes, stood up, and walked towards the door, his steps still a little unsteady.

Opesa: "That..."

"I'm tired." His voice was unyielding and he returned to his cold and frosty appearance.

Opesa: "Okay..." What else could she say? It was good enough that people were willing to let her go, but the system started to warn her about the character setting error. She could only say stubbornly, "I allow you to rest."

Sinderel didn't look back and walked out of the room.

Walking to the corridor, he raised his hand and opened his palm.

A strand of brown hair lay in the palm of his hand.

He slowly moved closer and sniffed—

It was the fragrance that led him to hell.