Chapter 121
Chapter 121
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: Bunny Girl
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"Hmm..."
Once the doubt had taken root, it refused to leave my mind, tormenting me even late into the night.
Objectively speaking, it was a completely pointless worry.
To be honest, the suspicion nagging at me was just me overthinking things with baseless conjecture. Based on all the information so far, it was a hundred times more plausible that Countess Tigris was trying to get a gap moe thrill from her husband.
But even so, the reason I couldn't let go of this useless obsession—I'm no psychologist, but isn't there something in human psychology like that?
You know, when you think you couldn't do something yourself, so you push someone else to try it and get vicarious satisfaction from it.
Something like that bubbling up...
"You're still awake, I see?"
"!"
A voice shattered my deepening thoughts.
I jumped in surprise and turned toward the sound. There stood Emily, arms crossed with a displeased expression on her face.
She was dressed in a flowing ivory chemise, draped in a gray blanket that left her pale calves fully exposed. It looked like she'd been about to head to bed when she suddenly came over.
"What's up? Weren't you going to sleep?"
"Your face looked suspicious tonight, so I came to check."
"Suspicious how?"
"You have this expression you make when you don't want to go to sleep."
"What? That's creepy..."
I furrowed my brow and shrank back a little.
How does she know that just from looking at my face...?
More importantly, what kind of face is that even?
"Haa~ How long are you going to keep acting so impulsively...?"
As I stared at her like she was some bizarre creature, shoulders trembling, Emily sighed and shook her head. She walked over with heavy steps and plopped down on the edge of the bed.
"So, what's this worry that's bothering you?"
"It's nothing."
"If it's nothing, should I get mad that you're still up this late?"
"I can't figure out why Countess Tigris made this request."
"......"
Emily's lips twitched as if she had no words for how quickly I'd switched gears.
"......"
She rubbed her face dry with her hands several times, then fixed me with a thin, piercing gaze and spoke in a flat tone.
"...Why does it matter?"
"It's hard to explain, but doesn't it feel off?"
"If it's hard to explain, how is it off?"
"Call it big data intuition or suspicion born from experience... uh, something you have to feel emotionally..."
"Haa~"
Emily's deep sigh—pulled all the way from her gut—cut me off.
I furtively glanced at her, lips twitching, sensing her growing irritation.
"Young master, stop spouting nonsense."
"Yeah..."
In the end, I got a proper scolding.
Honestly, I didn't even know what I was saying myself.
"Fine, let's say it's suspicious like you claim. But what's so impossible about it? You went to jail and came back for impertinence yourself."
"No, that's a different case..."
"It's the same kind of nonsense. And the countess just wants to have a good time with her husband—whether it's suspicious or not, what does it matter to you?"
"But..."
"No 'buts' about it. From what I see, you're just throwing a tantrum. I have no idea what's wrong or weird about any of this."
"Urgh..."
I had nothing to say.
She was completely right—what could I even argue?
I'd known it all along and had just been ignoring it.
"It's not that you want something yourself but are using Countess Tigris as an excuse, right?"
Is that it...?
There's no reason to care this much about someone else's marriage, so why can't I let it go?
Is Emily right? Do I want something else and just need a pretext?
"Maybe that's it..."
My foggy mind suddenly cleared.
I felt like just a bit more time, and I'd fully sort out my thoughts.
"Emily, I think I'm onto something. Can I stay up just two more hours tonight...?"
"......"
For a split second, rebellion flashed in Emily's eyes.
I could sense the menacing aura that she'd force me to sleep one way or another if I pushed it, so I clamped my mouth shut.
"Nah, I'll go to bed right now."
"......"
A smile crept onto Emily's face.
She rose gracefully, pulled back the covers herself, and pointed at the bed as if telling me to lie down right in front of her.
"What are you doing?"
"Ah, got it..."
_
They say when your head's too cluttered, you should just sleep it off. Like that, after Emily half-forced me into bed, I woke up with my mind neatly sorted, as if from a dream. What I wanted to do hit me like a light switching on.
It was so cleanly organized that I felt like I could fly off effortlessly, which made me unnecessarily anxious. I skipped breakfast and hurried to the atelier as fast as possible.
"It's a bit chilly..."
I'd arrived at the atelier a full hour earlier than usual.
Pushing through the heavy chill hanging in the workshop, I stood before the stove and lightly tapped its top with a nearby mana stone.
A blue spark popped out and seeped into the stove. It lit up red, radiating warm heat in all directions.
"Nice."
I smirked as the warmth gradually chased away the chill, then headed straight to my workbench and sat down.
My hands were itching like crazy.
"Young master."
I was in such a rush to grab my pen that as I hurriedly spread out paper, Emily—who'd followed me into the workshop a step behind—grabbed my wrist.
"What's wrong?"
"Please eat this before you start working."
A neat square basket had already claimed the spot where my paper was supposed to go.
Emily held my wrist while opening it, revealing sandwiches inside—hastily made, judging by their slightly uneven shapes, lined up neatly.
"You didn't even have breakfast. You have to eat something."
"Come on~ Skipping one meal won't kill me. I'll eat slowly while I work, so move it aside a bit."
"Urgh..."
Unlike sleep, skipping a meal doesn't break a person, and I wasn't refusing to eat at all—just saying I'd do it slowly. Emily looked troubled, glancing between me and the basket.
"Haa~ Finish it all by 10, okay?"
"Got it."
I nodded readily at her slight compromise. Emily moved the basket to a corner of the desk, took out a plate, and stacked a few sandwiches on top neatly.
"Thanks."
"If you're thankful, please listen to me for once."
"That's tough."
"Ugh..."
I flashed a playful smile at Emily, who was rubbing her forehead like it was a headache, then spread the paper out with a flourish.
The outfit I wanted to make wasn't particularly difficult in terms of construction.
In form and how it was worn, it was similar to a corset.
The differences? It wasn't underwear, and its true value shone only when paired with matching accessories.
"First, black silk, nylon, white rabbit leather, and white chiffon..."
I jotted down the materials in one corner of the paper.
Silk as glossy satin without patterns or embroidery.
Nylon for stockings, rabbit leather for accessories.
Chiffon for the babydoll commission.
I had to finish requests diligently, even if I wanted to make my own design.
"Mm..."
After listing all materials and double-checking nothing was missing, I tore off the corner and handed it to Emily.
"Get these from the warehouse."
"Yes."
Confirming Emily trotting off with the scrap, I immediately transferred the silhouette from my mind to paper.
Overall lines hugging the body to flaunt its curves.
No shoulder straps, so the top was like an off-shoulder dress or corset, and below the waist identical to a leotard.
Steep lines from crotch to waist to expose the hips fully.
The now bare legs and hips softly veiled with coffee-colored pantyhose.
A fluffy fur muffler around the neck, cuffs on the wrists, long-eared headband on the head, and a fist-sized, plush tail near the tailbone.
"Phew..."
After finishing the back view sketch and setting down my pen, I leaned back in my chair, exhaling hot breath.
I'd been so focused I barely breathed, just frantically wielding the pen.
Suddenly my hands shook, sugar crashing.
I dazedly reached for a sandwich.
"Young master, what were you drawing to bury your nose in the desk, sweating buckets, and scribbling nonstop?"
"Huh?"
As I nibbled the sandwich to catch my breath, Emily thrust out a handkerchief and tapped my forehead.
Just three or four light taps, and it was soaked, stained dark with sweat.
"Whoa..."
"I told you I got the fabric, but no reaction. You moved your hands like a possessed ghost for a whole hour."
"Already an hour?"
"Yes, everyone else is here now."
"Come on... even so..."
Thinking it was an exaggeration, I glanced over—employees had already started work at their stations without a word.
"For real..."
"Why would I lie about this?"
Emily snorted lightly, straightened up, and tucked the sweat-soaked handkerchief into her apron pocket.
Her gaze shifted to the sketch on the desk, curiosity lighting her face as she peered at it.
"What did you make that immersed you so deeply?"
"Mm..."
I chewed my sandwich and looked at the sketch, just like Emily.
Its name? Obviously that. But was it okay to use it straight?
"Gulp."
No.
Nothing else fit better.
I chuckled and shook my head.
"Bunny girl."
It was the outfit I'd been singing about in my heart for months, dying to create.