Dorothy would never have imagined that Adele could be so cunning.

Logically, the chastity curse would only activate upon physical intimacy. The threat of excruciating pain, like a slap on the wrist for every stolen candy, was supposed to deter Adele from straying.

But Dorothy, times had changed!

If physical contact was off-limits, then Adele would simply… not touch. A little virtual voyeurism, a feast for the eyes, would suffice to satisfy her rebellious urges.

The more Dorothy tried to control her, the more Adele wanted to defy her.

And for this particular act of rebellion, Celeste, her loyal dog, was the perfect accomplice.

Sharon was too pitiful to be dragged into this. Hermione was too… noble. And Adele couldn’t bear to shatter the pure, innocent image she had cultivated in Tang Linlang’s mind.

And so, under the cover of night, the two girls engaged in a series of increasingly scandalous acts, their hushed whispers and giggles filling the air.

By the time the video call ended, Celeste was clutching her pillow, her eyes squeezed shut, her cheeks still flushed. She had obeyed Adele’s every command, every instruction, even those that had made her blush crimson with shame.

But what surprised Celeste the most was how… exhilarating it had felt. Her body, now bound to Adele as her loyal familiar, responded with a fervor that bordered on intoxication.

There had been moments of hesitation, of fear, but one look at Adele’s satisfied, flushed face was enough to banish all doubts. Celeste was content to be a puppet in her master’s hands, her every move controlled by Adele’s whims.

As the night deepened, Adele drifted off to sleep, a contented smile gracing her lips.

Celeste, however, remained wide awake.

And someone else was still suffering.

In the room next door, Sharon sat huddled on the floor behind the door, her silver-grey hair framing her pale face, her golden eyes dull and lifeless. Like a piece of gold buried in dust, its value hidden from view.

The clock ticked steadily downstairs, each tick a hammer blow to Sharon’s heart.

She stared blankly ahead, her gaze unfocused.

She was a shell of her former self, a walking corpse.

If Dorothy had seen her now, she would have been even more disappointed.

Why didn’t Sharon fight back? Even Adele, the weakest of them all, had more courage. Was Sharon, a Sequence One, truly inferior to a mere half-vampire?

Perhaps Dorothy, more than anyone else, wanted Sharon to rekindle her rebellious spirit. She had been at the top for so long, she had almost forgotten the thrill of being challenged.

Hermione’s cold defiance, her harsh words… they had angered Dorothy, yes, but they had also excited her.

If life was a game, then the games that excited Dorothy the most were those where she had to overcome seemingly insurmountable odds, to defeat powerful bosses with limited resources. She would have been a huge fan of the Souls series.

In fact, she was a bit of a gaming addict. The constraints of modern society, the rules that bound even someone as powerful as her, frustrated her. Until she reached a level where she could challenge the True Ancestors, she had to find other outlets for her thirst for challenge.

If Adele wanted Dorothy to leave her alone, she might want to consider using her knowledge of the future to her advantage. Perhaps she could recreate those challenging games, the ones that had captivated Dorothy in her previous life.

Or she could simply leak the ideas to a talented game developer.

The goal? To torment Dorothy within the virtual world, to make her suffer!

And maybe add a rule where Dorothy had to bark like a dog every time she died.

Adele drifted off to sleep, her dreams filled with images of her stepping on Dorothy’s face with her white-stockinged foot, crushing the princess’s arrogant smirk.

But the dream shifted, fading into a blank, white void.

Adele frowned, her mind slowly returning to consciousness.

…Sharon?

Thankfully, Sharon wasn’t in the mood for dream-peeping. Otherwise, Adele’s carefully cultivated image would have been shattered.

No one’s “white moonlight” would be a cruel, domineering girl who enjoyed stepping on people’s faces and putting them in collars.

Adele’s heart skipped a beat. But when she spotted Sharon, huddled in the distance, her figure small and forlorn, she realized that Sharon hadn’t invaded her dreams.

She could proceed with her plan.

Taking a deep breath, Adele calmed her nerves. She reminded herself of her role in this dreamscape.

She was Sharon’s closest friend, her… lover.

And as Sharon’s lover, seeing her in such a state of distress… well, Adele knew exactly what to do.

With a gentle smile, her pink eyes filled with concern, she approached Sharon and embraced her from behind, showering her neck with soft kisses. There was no lust in her touch, only a desire to comfort Sharon, to soothe her pain.

Sharon had managed to hold back her tears when she was alone. But now, enveloped in Adele’s warmth, her heart soothed by Adele’s pure, loving energy… the tears came unbidden, flowing freely down her cheeks.

She sobbed, a torrent of pent-up emotions finally released after years of silent suffering.

Even Adele was moved by Sharon’s vulnerability. Her embrace tightened, her kisses becoming more fervent, her every touch filled with genuine affection.

Finally, exhausted from crying, Sharon leaned against Adele, her sobs subsiding into quiet sniffles. She looked so fragile, so utterly broken.

Adele stroked her hair, whispering soothing words, kissing her forehead.

And in that moment, something shifted within Sharon.

The spark returned to her eyes.

Alone, she had been too strong, too proud, to even consider defying Dorothy.

But in Adele’s arms, even in her weakness, she found a newfound courage, a reckless determination.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, she would fly towards the sun, even if it meant burning to ashes.

She would rescue Adele from Dorothy’s clutches, even if it meant sacrificing herself.

Would the future change?

Or would it, fueled by Adele’s actions, arrive even sooner?