Bang!

A gunshot.

In that instant the world seemed to go into slow motion. Standing on the dragon's head, Morimoto Chiyoda could clearly see the bullet's trajectory through the air, and she knew she only had to raise her sword to cleave it in two.

But she chose not to. A cold gleam surged over the surface of Frost Sorrow.

The tiles covering the floor suddenly exploded as a skeleton with not a shred of flesh burst out from below. Its jade-like bone hand rose and blocked in front of the bullet.

Clang~

Sparks flew. The bullet veered off its original course and hit the floor beside them.

Black Widow and Vulture's hearts lurched; they both tried to retreat.

They had only taken one step.

Vulture felt something cold press against his back, stopping him from moving any farther.

He turned and saw a white clavicle, and from the curves he could tell there was a distinct feminine softness to it.

The skeleton that had burst out of the floor behind him pressed down on his head and, like a seasoned cop, expertly locked his arms behind him and forced him to the ground.

Vulture was slammed hard onto the floor.

Bang. His jaw flared with heat; a metallic tang flooded his mouth as if he'd broken two teeth.

Vulture struggled with all his might, but his arms were bound as if by steel, with absolutely no room to move.

Only now did he realize the gap between Treasure Users and ordinary people was far greater than he had imagined.

And it made him all the more frustrated—why couldn't the employer have provided more offensive hot weapons?

If they'd had more firepower, they might really have had a chance to finish Emily off while she was weak.

Then he could have gone down in history with the famous assassins, forever remembered as the first man to assassinate a Treasure User.

He tilted his head up, stared at Emily, his eyes full of unwillingness.

"Heh heh."

Emily let out a smug little laugh. That look a loser gave a winner made her secretly delighted.

Especially since this guy had just tried to assassinate her earlier.

Now that he'd fallen into her hands, he could forget about a good end.

Emily had never been the magnanimous type; she'd always lived by "an eye for an eye, blood for blood."

Someone wanted to kill her.

Then she had to repay that same killing intent in kind—that was the etiquette a person ought to observe.

Emily had already sentenced him to death in her heart. Her ears twitched, and a hint of puzzlement crossed her small face as she said, "Morimoto, did you hear something?"

"Yeah, it's coming from next door. Sounds like two people are getting it on. Pretty intense."

Morimoto Chiyoda chuckled.

Through the shattered glass she could faintly hear those muffled cries.

As if they were afraid of being heard, they were covering their mouth with their hand.

What a cute reaction.

From her tone Emily guessed what "getting it on" meant. She snorted, her face turning cold. "Doing that kind of thing in broad daylight, they're not embarrassed at all."

"Better than someone saying the grapes are sour just because she can't eat them."

Morimoto Chiyoda's airy remark made Emily's cheeks flush. She instantly denied it. "What nonsense are you talking about?

I'm very experienced, why would I envy anyone?"

By the end of her sentence her face was full of fighting spirit, posing with a proud expression.

At her age, if she were still a virgin, people would inevitably look down on her.

Morimoto Chiyoda saw her putting up a front and smiled, feeling especially pleased.

Because Emily hadn't realized the one next door was Hojo Shouko.

After all, with Hojo Shouko desperately covering her mouth, the sounds she made, based on Morimoto Chiyoda's memory, could never let her recognize it as someone she knew.

"Morimoto, you actually don't believe me?"

"Of course I believe in your experience. Let's drop it."

Morimoto Chiyoda cut off Emily's attempt to prove her own lie and said with a smile, "Let's take them to Ito.

Let that pervert woman dissect them and ask who's behind this."

"Fine."

Emily nodded, eager to end this topic as soon as possible. The more lies you told, the easier it was to slip up.

Besides, even she felt what she'd just said couldn't convince Morimoto Chiyoda.

So annoying. So what if she had a little puppy waiting at home?

She'd find a little puppy like Aozawa for herself some other day.

Emily thought sourly to herself, determined to make her words come true sooner or later.

The two skeletons escorted Black Widow and Vulture onto the dragon's back.

The Bone Dragon's wings beat, and it lifted off from the hotel's outer wall.

Countless shards of glass were caught up by the raging wind, whistling as they swept up and flew into the living room ahead.

The CIA would provide the follow-up compensation.

The Bone Dragon vanished into the horizon.

Aozawa stopped whipping Hojo Shouko, instead gently pulling her into his arms, and said softly, "Shouko, your reactions just now were amazing."

"Aozawa-senpai~"

Hojo Shouko's eyes were hazy, like a river of spring water about to spill from her lashes.

Her embarrassment not only made her cheeks redder; it also triggered her body's instinctive responses.

That sudden tautness in her body only made Aozawa all the more unsatisfied.

Earlier, he had taken advantage of Time stop to help Hojo Shouko take away the pain of her first time.

So Aozawa could move on to the second time without hesitation.

Judging from Hojo's bodily reactions, they could probably go for a third.

He resumed the whipping.

Hojo Shouko suddenly remembered. "Wait, Aozawa-senpai, I still have candles in my bag."

"Oh~ I get it."

Aozawa instantly understood what she meant.

He decided to show off some relevant technique.

Contrary to what people thought, when used now, wax dripped on the body wouldn't cause burns.

As for the whip, as long as you controlled the strength, it wouldn't cause pain; instead it had that pleasurable feeling of tearing away a scabbed wound.

Perfect for couples to use.

Aozawa pressed Hojo Shouko up against him and headed to the bathroom to look for her schoolbag.