Shelly announced cheerfully. [Mr. Maxwell’s spiritual realm is stabilized! He should wake naturally within a few hours once his mind processes the healing.]

Neville slumped into the chair beside Grayson’s bed, his legs suddenly unable to support his weight. His heart was pounding, and his lips tingled with residual warmth.

’One percent,’ he thought numbly. ’I kissed him for almost two and a half minutes and only got one percent.’

[The favorability system’s measurements were very fickle. But, that was a very...good kiss. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)]

’Shut up, Shelly.’

Just as he was about to lie down and get a good sleep to forget the shame, a holographic screen notification popped up, floating in front of him.

[SIDE QUEST: Save Your Target!

Status: COMPLETED

Current Favorability: 16% ▲

Reward:

Calming Pill Unlocked! (Capable of shielding AO rut/heat cycle inducing pheromones for 24 hours.)

1,000,000 reward points

Unlocked Lecture on ABO dynamics

Unlocked Encyclopedia of the Interstellar Era

Unlocked Species of the Future.

Unlocked History of the Interstellar Era

Unlocked Map of the Universe.

Unlocked Intermediate Secretarial Skill.]

The system dumped a lot of rewards that he didn’t even know what to do with any of them.

Aside from the barely useful Calming Pill and his most-awaited reward points, what else would he use these for? Neville thought irritably at the sight of the notification.

But despite his internal grumbling, Neville couldn’t deny that succeeding in this quest made him notice some change. Looking at Grayson now, he could see the difference immediately. His breathing had deepened, become more natural. Color was returning to his cheeks.

The door opened behind him, and Neville quickly changed his expression to act naturally concerned.

"How is he?" Julius asked, striding into the room with Dr. Miranda close behind.

"Better," Neville said, and was surprised to find his voice steady. "I think... I think he just needed some quiet. Some peace."

Dr. Miranda approached the bed, his medical scanner already in hand. After a moment of examination, his eyebrows rose.

"His neural activity has normalized. The irregularities we were seeing before are gone." He looked at Neville with undisguised curiosity. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Neville lied smoothly. "I just talked to him. Sometimes people just recover on their own, given some time."

It was a flimsy excuse, but Dr. Miranda seemed willing to accept it as it was. Or at least, he was willing not to press further.

"It seems that his body just needs some rest. Given these results, he should be able to wake up on his own within the next few hours."

Neville nodded and pressed his palm harder against his thigh. As soon as the people came out of the room, he sighed. He rubbed his temples with his tired fingers.

Speaking of which, he should probably ask Julius about Bryan’s health status.

Just as he was about to push himself to stand, the door hissed open. He was expecting Julius to enter for whatever reason—instead, someone he had only seen from afar stepped inside the room confidently.

She was a really tall woman with long golden hair. Her features were sharp and striking, a very example of a beauty that demanded attention. She moved with the controlled grace of someone trained in combat, her presence filling the small room.

It was Lilianna Gringer.

She was a supermodel with an exclusive contract with the Maxwell Corporation. She was also happened to be Sarah’s young sister.

But... what was she doing here? Why did Julius allow her to come in? Is she close to Grayson?

It didn’t take long for Neville’s questions to be answered.

"You’re not Bryan," Lilianna said by way of greeting, her amber eyes sweeping over Neville with clinical assessment. There was no warmth in her gaze, just careful evaluation, sizing him up from top to bottom.

It was rude by all means, but Neville felt that he shouldn’t back down. The alpha pheromones rolling off Lilianna were sharp and powerful. He even had to restrain his pheromones from retaliating against this unreasonable behavior.

"No, ma’am." Neville rose from his chair. With a perfect posture, he smiled and continued. "Chief Secretary Stewart is currently being treated in another hospital. The doctor’s orders were for Mr. Maxwell to get some sleep..."

Neville pretended to hesitate in continuing. He acted unsure about how much this ’stranger’ Lilianna knew about the situation and how much he should tell her.

Lilianna’s lips just curled up into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

"I heard that Grayson collapsed." She said with a humorless expression, "News travels fast, especially if it involves someone close to me."

That was one way to describe what had happened. But Neville wouldn’t confirm any of that nor recognize their closeness; he didn’t want to.

"Mr. Maxwell’s condition is already stable," he said instead, keeping his voice professional. "Dr. Miranda expects a full recovery with adequate rest."

"Hmm." Lilianna’s amber gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, assessing, calculating.

Then Lilianna dismissed him entirely, turning her attention to the bed. She crossed to Grayson’s side with long strides, her heels clicking against the polished floor. For a moment, she stood there, looking down at his sleeping form at an angle that Neville couldn’t see clearly.

Her hand lifted, hovering near Grayson’s shoulder without quite touching. The gesture was achingly familiar, intimate in a way that made Neville’s chest tighten. He found himself looking at this moment with an eye that used to consume a lot of romance media back on earth.

The beautiful alpha standing vigil over the handsome, unconscious male lead... It was practically a scene from one of those melodramatic dramas that Hana was always watching during lunch breaks. The kind of scene that usually preceded a tearful confession or a flashback to happier times.

Neville moved a little and noted some more details. The familiar way Lilianna’s hand hovered, the slight softening around her eyes, the tension in her jaw that spoke of suppressed emotion—the way her entire body angled toward Grayson, as if drawn by an invisible force.

Suppressed emotion?