'I can't even recognize all of them.'
Stepping down from the carriage adorned with the official royal emblem—graciously provided by my dear wife—I scanned the surroundings, only to et the startled, bewildered gazes of everyone gathered at the banquet.
All eyes were fixed on Mialthara. And to be honest, she did look stunning.
Draped in a bold red dress that matched her usual fearless persona, she beca the center of attention the mont she stepped out.
Though, as I descended behind her, I too drew quite a few curious stares—perhaps because I stood there casually, ruffling the fur of the black cat nestled in my arms.
I definitely did not expect her to be able to save shifts. Maybe it was due to giving her a na that she gained so kind of ability. But whatever it was, it was really handy to have her shape shift.
I was sowhat in a good mood.
Until a loud voice pierced the mont:
"...Does anyone know who that idiot is who brought a black cat to a noble banquet?!"
'Which dog just barked?' I thought, my gaze narrowing as I scanned the crowd, searching for the idiot who dared speak.
Obviously, the only person holding a black cat here was .
My eyes finally landed on a young man, roughly my age, with a pig-like nose and the kind of face that scread 'forgettable extra'.
Just another third-rate NPC whose lines existed solely to fill the script.
Still, the place did feel grand—the banquet hall lit by elegant lamps, shimring robes brushing the marble floor, every noble clad in silk and gold embroidery that glinted like starlight.
It was a sight worth capturing with eyes, not words.
Amidst that beauty, a single black smudge marred the fra—the one who'd opened his mouth and pissed off.
But whatever.
//Darling Olea, are you comfortable?//
I reached out to Olea, who remained perfectly concealed within my shadow. Silent. Invisible. Sheltered in the shadow dinsion, far from the resonance of Qi signatures.
Still, bringing her here felt like a bad move.
If she happened to recognize so of the voices in this hall... there was a chance she'd lose control.
Because so of those voices belonged to traitors. Ghost Sect traitors.
After the death of the sect's legacy bearer, the Ghost Sect fractured.
Those who once stood by him scattered—especially after they were caught attempting to assassinate young Olea.
They didn't face execution or prison, of course.
Their backgrounds were far too influential for justice.
Like that old fox eyed bastard standing next to Ruvina.
And her—yeah, I didn't recognize her at first.
But, Among the gathered nobles, she was the only woman standing boldly with the n, her fan raised to conceal her face like so clichéd arrogant lady from a cheap novel—And since he is making recognize her, considering there were only four young won ntioned in the story holding such ugly fans.
//Darling? Husband, you're becoming bolder with each passing day.//
'!'
'Fuck you, system.'
And just like that, the horrifying realization hit : not only could Olea hear my thoughts, but Aleriana was also eavesdropping through the damn telepathic link.
I imdiately cursed the system—a supposedly invincible one that couldn't even distinguish between private and public thoughts.
Invincible, my ass. More like a glorified booster pack barely scraping by with enough utility to justify its existence.
I stood in the garden at the banquet's entrance, the scent of fresh flora mingling with the warmth of hanging lamps.
But the real heat was the stares.
Each gaze, each breath, even the subtle shifts in stance—hostility, curiosity, disdain—I could feel them. Not see. Feel. Like the whole domain was alive and throbbing under my awareness. Breathing with .
It was... godlike.
I appreciated the system for this feature, which was, in a way, literally making invincible.
'W-wife, maybe you should take a nap or do so work instead of tuning into my ntal radio?'
//You know why I sent Olea with you, right?//
'?!'
'W-wait, no, right? No way…'
It hit like a bolt of divine stupidity. There was no need for Olea to be here. Mialthara alone was enough.
Hell, Ashmira was already present in her cat form as backup.
That ant…
Olea had been sent as a spy.
'H-how could you betray , Olea?!'
//But I didn't do anything, though…//
'Don't lie to !'
//…I just realized that I was the spy after Princess said so.//
'You should've figured out Aleriana's plan!'
//.... //
So, in short? Aleriana played both of us like fiddles.
I hadn't questioned her sending Olea—thought she was just being an overprotective wife. But no. She sent her to monitor everything.
To live-stream my every move.
'Sigh…'
There it was again—that awful, painful epiphany: having a smart wife wasn't always a blessing.
Sotis, it ant you were never truly alone.
I was thinking with either my heart or my brain.
She? She was using both at once.
At least now I'd learned it firsthand.
Never let your guard down around a cunning woman who knows exactly how you think.
With that realization, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself and refocused my attention back to the individuals around .
The first to approach us was none other than Ruvina.
The mont our eyes t, I let her notice my slight surprise, perhaps intentionally, making her brain think that I recognized her and wanted to be the first to speak with her.
[Host, is that woman trying to hide her black teeth?]
'Nah, her black heart,' I replied instantly, recalling her story.
Ruvina Crutrian is the future head of the Crutrian family.
One of the three people responsible for the downfall of the Arcutus household.
It all began when the current head of the Arcutus family—Kyle's father—vanished. That disappearance was followed by a brutal pressure from the Crutrian family, led by this very woman.
The Roharians, an ambitious rchant family clawing their way into the elite, rose shortly after, and in the end, the final nail in the Arcutus coffin was hamred in by Olea herself.
The fall of a duke's house doesn't happen overnight. There were four major events that led to the collapse, each more vicious than the last.
This woman wasn't a main character, but she was important—a catalyst, you could say. She t her end at the hands of Aleriana during a pivotal battle.
It was that very fight where Aleriana ascended to the upper realm.
So in the grand sche, she was never ant to win. Just to serve as the spark.
"Greetings, my lady—"
Ruvina approached with natural grace, exuding her usual confidence. Her eyes scanned for a mont before she extended a hand toward Mialthara.
But Mialthara didn't even glance at her. She passed by without a word, giving her the coldest shoulder I'd seen in a while.
I clearly caught the twitch in Ruvina's brow, a vein threatening to burst on her forehead as she was publicly ignored, humiliated in front of everyone.
Anyone would have reacted that way after such blatant disrespect.
But honestly, it didn't bother .
What did catch my attention was how, almost instantly, Ruvina turned her gaze to —then down to Asmira, quietly perched in her cat form—before flashing a smile and purring,
"It appears the lady must have a skin condition she doesn't wish to spread. How considerate of her... fu fu."
'Damn, girl. You're playing with fire.'
She didn't waste the opportunity to throw a direct jab at Mialthara. I couldn't help but feel a little amused when I saw Mialthara's hand twitch for a mont, clearly showing that the words went through her skin.
After all, Ruvina definitely had a snake's mouth filled with poison.
Then, once again, Ruvina extended her hand toward .
This was a test.
It always was with her.
If a man kissed her hand, she'd label him as one who thinks with his dick—a tool, just like the rest.
Her personal sorting ritual.
"May I know the kind na of this gentleman?" she asked sweetly, her narrowed eyes locked onto mine. There was a smile on her face, but it was far from genuine.
I stretched my hand out.
"Yes, of course."
But instead of taking hers, I scooped up Asera—the cat—in both arms and promptly placed her soft, dark fur directly into Ruvina's offered palm.
'!'
She recoiled imdiately, yanking her hand back with a startled gasp.
"Wh-what is the aning of this?!" she demanded, her voice rising as shock widened her eyes.
In this region, black cats—and crows—had long been associated with demonic cultivators, sacrificial rituals, and forbidden techniques. They were symbolic, feared, avoided.
Not because of any law, but due to deep-rooted prejudice and superstition.
"Kyle Arcutus," I said coolly, resting my weight on one shoulder. "And mind you, Miss of the Crutrain House—I just saved you from starting a scandal."
She blinked, confused, with her eyes slowly widening as her mind seed to process my na.
"If I'd kissed your hand," I continued, "rumors would've spread. About you getting kiss from Kyle Arcutus. And I doubt your reputation could handle that right now."
Naturally, I'd never intended to kiss her hand anyway. Who knew where it had been? Especially considering her notorious disdain for n—treating them as little more than tools or entertainnt.
Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she coated her hand in poop before offering it, just to laugh at the fools who kissed it.
'!?!'
GASP
"H-he is Kyle… Arcutus—!?"
"Wh-what?!"
"Did I just hear it right?!"
One after another, as if auditioning to give the best reaction, each one of them—from the woman covering her mouth to those who were completely shocked—gave their reaction.
'Am I what? A Godzilla they can't believe looks this handso.'
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