Chapter 804: The Protagonist’s Love Story (Part 11)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 804: The Protagonist’s Love Story (Part 11)
"Whoo!"
Flames dyed the amusement park sky crimson. Debris fell like meteors, only to be snuffed out against a transparent protective barrier.
The crowds within the park stopped to witness this spectacular sight. Gasps and cheers erupted one after another, as many assumed this was simply another planned performance in this wondrous new park.
On the other side, the Pink Bear and Pars had already begun to clap and celebrate with excitement.
"Hand-holding success!"
"Come on, come on! Pop the champagne! Pop the champagne!"
Free from his previous constraints, the Pink Bear had become quite the big spender lately. He no longer lived the stingy life of the past, where he had to hide away just to smoke a low-quality cigar. He immediately produced a bottle of fine champagne he’d recently purchased. After a vigorous shake, he let the liquid and foam spray into the sky, mirroring the burning, falling wreckage.
With that chaos as their backdrop, the two figures tightly gripping each other's hands looked breathtakingly beautiful—a moment that seemed as if it would last for eternity.
"Look at that! Just look! So what if her heart is made of steel? So what if he was the person she hated most? Under our 'Heart-Throb Strategy,' hasn't she turned into a little bird clinging to his side?"
The Pink Bear was extremely satisfied with this result. When it came to making feelings sublimate in a short period of time, one really had to rely on a reliable professional.
That kid Muen had his strengths, but his style was far too gentlemanly. He didn't understand that girls sometimes preferred a bit of forcefulness.
After all, if you don't even have a big, hard "explosion point," how do you expect to shake someone's inner core?
The Pink Bear hadn't spent all these years wandering the world for nothing. Did people really think he only read erotic books?
"As expected of Lord Oranriel. That magical control was precise to the hair. Truly admirable," Pars praised.
"It was only because your analysis was so spot-on, Godfather, that I could come up with such a method."
"No, no, no. It was all thanks to your brilliance and divine might. I merely provided a few insignificant theories; the execution is what truly mattered."
"You flatter me, you flatter me..."
"It is only right, only right..."
"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare..."
"Too modest, too modest..."
"..."
After another round of mutual business-flattery, Pars stroked his stubble and finally returned to a serious analysis.
"Things are going smoothly, but in my opinion... are they perhaps going too smoothly?"
"Oh? Why do you say that?" the Pink Bear asked curiously.
"A tragic childhood, a lack of love, a hardened heart, a hatred for men, a hatred for nobles... While each of these isn't a major obstacle on its own, as I said before, the combination of them is extremely thorny. Not to mention..."
She was also into girls.
To be honest, when he first learned that piece of intel, even a Love Godfather like him had been stunned, unsure of where to even begin.
He thought he was dealing with "Hell Mode" difficulty, but it turned out they weren't even in the same world.
If her sexual orientation didn't even align, how was he supposed to "conquer" her?
But looking at it now...
Pars looked up at the two figures standing close together. He realized that after all this time, Miss Ariel—who, according to the intel, hated men, hated nobles, hated playboys, and hated Muen Campbell most of all—hadn't slapped him away. She hadn't even made a symbolic gesture of displeasure...
Her character archetype was practically breaking down.
Thus, Pars couldn't help but wonder, "Is everything actually much simpler than I imagined?"
"Heh, who knows?"
The Pink Bear chuckled, shaking the champagne bottle. He spoke with deep meaning, "Perhaps this story isn't about planting the seeds of fate, but rather the harvesting of a bitter fruit after everything has naturally run its course?"
"A bitter fruit? Is that so? It seems many stories I'm unaware of have already played out between them."
Pars pondered for a moment, then sighed with emotion. "Then it is precisely because it is a bitter fruit that someone must help it ripen."
"Exactly."
The Pink Bear slapped his knee. "As expected of the Love Godfather, you catch on quick. What are we? We are the hardworking gardeners who help that bitter fruit reach its final, sweet conclusion! Heavens, saying it like that makes me admire my own noble character!"
"Lord Oranriel's character is naturally noble."
Pars nodded slightly, following the thread of conversation without sounding too sycophantic:
"Before I arrived, I heard that the construction cost of this amusement park was astronomical. Many things here have never been seen before in this world. Yet, for the sake of Young Master Muen’s relationship, Lord Oranriel blew it up without a second thought. Such resolve and detachment are truly admirable."
"Of course." The Pink Bear shook his head proudly. "Who do you think I am?"
"As expected of you."
Pars looked at the Pink Bear with admiration. "Since Lord Oranriel is so helpful and blew it up so selflessly, you must have been the one who paid for this amusement park. Not only are you helpful, but you also proactively footed the bill. I don't think there's anyone else in this world as philanthropic as you..."
"Uh..." The Pink Bear’s face froze.
"Right...?" Pars asked tentatively, sensing something was wrong.
"..."
"Right..."
"Alright, alright, is it really that important who paid for it?"
The Pink Bear regained his righteous expression. "Money only makes love vulgar, you know? A true gentleman doesn't care how much he spends on a woman!"
"Lord Oranriel is right..." Pars wiped away a bead of sweat. He hadn't expected that even his "licking" skills—which had made countless noble madams, wealthy heiresses, and even sixty-year-old female political powerhouses scream for mercy—would almost crash and burn here.
He truly hadn't expected this dignified member of the imperial family to be so shameless... It turned out he was the one watching the fun, but it was Young Master Muen’s money being burned.
"By the way, do you know their next move?" Putting the joy of success aside for a moment, the Pink Bear asked leisurely:
"Our mission isn't over yet. Simply holding hands isn't enough."
"Next?"
When it came to business, Pars immediately perked up. He cast aside his minor internal grumbles and pulled out his notebook to scribble and draw.
"If my analysis is correct, given Young Master Muen’s arrangements and intentions for this place, after the roller coaster, it must be that place."
"There?"
The Pink Bear followed Pars’s gaze. "A good spot. It seems the preparations we made in advance weren't in vain."
"Then I shall go prepare."
Pars straightened his back. "According to the plans we formulated earlier, this will definitely take their relationship one step further!"
"Go on then. I'll leave this performance to the Godfather." The Pink Bear patted Pars on the shoulder with a look of gratification.
"I will not fail you!"
Like a general receiving a command flag on the battlefield, Pars gave the Pink Bear a solemn military salute.
Then, he quickly snapped his notebook shut and hurried along a hidden path toward Muen’s next destination. He had to get everything ready before Muen and the others arrived.
"Young people... always so full of energy."
The Pink Bear continued to sip his champagne leisurely, his gaze lingering on Pars’s receding back.
His beady black bear eyes suddenly grew incredibly deep, though it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
Until another gaze, filled with resentment, also landed upon him...
*
The debris had completely vanished into the flames, and the howling winds had finally ceased.
This performance, as brilliant as fireworks, was just as fleeting.
"Are you okay?"
Muen pulled Ariel back onto the tracks and asked with concern:
"Are you hurt?"
"Do you think I'm that fragile?" Ariel curled her lip disdainfully. It was just a fake date; this guy was really treating her like some delicate young miss.
"True, you aren't that fragile."
Muen studied Ariel’s face carefully. Despite the accident just now, she remained calm. It was as if that dance of steel that had nearly killed her hadn't even happened; he couldn't even see a trace of anger.
From the perspective of a "conqueror," this was quite discouraging. Whether it was joy, sadness, resentment, or anger—any emotion could be a sign of a crack in one's mental defenses.
But this lack of ripples meant her heart was still a fortress, difficult to enter.
This made Muen wonder: was a date like this really useful for Ariel?
Even if he could truly make her "heart throb," so what?
That kind of "heart throb" wasn't the same as falling in love. No matter how many times it happened, it would only be...
"Hey."
Ariel interrupted Muen’s thoughts. "How much longer are we going to stay up this high? I don't want to be a monkey for people to gawk at."
"Oh, right away."
Muen snapped back to reality, remembering that he and Ariel were standing on a high section of the tracks, visible to everyone.
He quickly leaned down, intending to grab Ariel’s slender waist as he had before—the "gentlemanly" way to carry her down with minimal physical contact... But at that moment, for some reason, Muen suddenly took another serious look at Ariel.
He looked at her eyes, calm as a lake; her expression, devoid of ripples; her flat, uncurving chest... and finally, his gaze fell on the hand that was still tightly gripped in his, as if she had temporarily forgotten to let go.
After a moment of hesitation, Muen proactively released Ariel’s hand. In a posture that wasn't quite offensive but certainly involved more intimate contact than before, he lifted Ariel by her armpits and carried her lightly down from the heights.
This grip was more stable, and doing so while descending from a height seemed justifiable. However, for most girls, being touched near the chest was certainly harder to accept than being touched at the waist—especially for Ariel, who was particularly sensitive about that area.
Yet, she still didn't resist.
Muen seemed to realize something, and his eyes brightened slightly.
...
"You really are willing to spend, aren't you?"
After landing, Ariel didn't seem to find Muen’s previous action "ambiguous" at all. Instead, she crossed her arms as usual, admiring the scene of falling steel that had yet to conclude. "I did say it was a bit boring, but you didn't have to blow it up. What does blowing it up achieve? Just so I'd hold your hand a bit longer so you could take advantage of me?"
"..."
"Hmm?"
Seeing that Muen didn't answer, Ariel turned her head in confusion.
She then saw Muen pounding the ground with both hands, a look of tragic grief on his face.
"Dammit... my roller coaster... that was worth a tenth of my old man's estate..."
Spending money? He didn't care.
Spending his old man's money? He cared even less.
But watching a massive sum of money explode all at once like a firework... even Muen felt his blood pressure spike.
"Oh my."
Ariel suddenly became excited.
It wasn't excitement at someone else's suffering, but rather because this scene was far too familiar.
Once upon a time, she too had pounded the ground in grief because her precious money had left her. This scene was pure déjà vu.
Though back then, she was crying over a few thousand for a meal, while Muen was looking at tens of millions.
But it was fitting. She was like this because of him, and he was like this because of her.
Karma comes in circles; it never misses a beat.
"Mm-hmm."
Ariel nodded with an air of importance, looking quite cute. "I suppose I can admit that this is indeed a very good way to date."
"..."
Muen whipped his head around, his sharp gaze locking onto a certain direction like a bolt of lightning.
Across the noisy crowd, he happened to see a certain Pink Bear frantically trying to pull a small cat mask over its head.
As expected, it was that bastard again!
In all of Belland, besides that old geezer who was so bored he’d go out of his way to interfere in someone else's date, there was probably no one else!
Muen was fuming. If he weren't in the middle of a date, he would have rushed over and given that bastard a taste of his "wild swings."
No, flailing punches wouldn't do anything to that thick-skinned guy.
Muen quickly calmed down.
Violence couldn't solve the problem, especially against a top-tier powerhouse whose skin and strength were both at the pinnacle of the continent.
To deal with someone like that, one had to use genuine emotion to move them. For example...
After the date was over, he would go have a nice chat with Her Excellency the Former Saintess. He would earnestly recount exactly how many erotic books that bastard had hidden over the years, and how much capital he had poured into Belland’s black market to buy those photo books.
He would patiently help the Saintess calculate what an incredible sum of money that capital would have been if used for proper business.
Of course, after the chat, he would have to add: "You two are lovers; you should talk things out calmly. Don't let it hurt your relationship."
He believed that at that time, the Pink Bear would be moved by his sincerity and kindness.
"Let's go."
After mentally visualizing ten thousand ways for the Pink Bear to die, Muen took a deep breath and pulled his attention back to the present.
The matter of the Pink Bear could wait. His story with her wasn't over yet.
"To the next date location."
*
"What is this place?"
Though the weather had been clear and mild just a moment ago, the atmosphere had suddenly turned gloomy.
Ariel looked up in confusion, her eyes reflecting the strangely shaped building—it looked like the gaping maw of a monster, waiting for foolish prey to walk into its trap.
"A haunted house."
"A haunted house?"
"It's a mansion where evil spirits once lived. I moved it here for our exploration." The beam of an Illumination Spell shone upward like a flashlight, and Muen deliberately put on a terrifying expression:
"They say that the little lambs who enter here never make it out again~"
"Really?" Ariel arched an eyebrow.
"Of course," Muen replied.
He wasn't lying. After all, he and Ariel were the first pair to ever enter this place.
That said, this haunted house definitely had a bit of "technology" added to it—the technology of this world. For instance, that gloomy feeling... was actually due to a cooling array buried deep underground.
But Ariel certainly couldn't tell at this moment.
"Then let's go in."
"Mm."
Muen and Ariel walked one after the other into the haunted house.
Darkness immediately rushed to meet them. To suit the eerie atmosphere, there wasn't a single candle lit in the entire mansion. Only a few slivers of glimmering light filtered through the cracks of the dilapidated windows, but it was far from enough to illuminate the scenes within.
"It's so dark."
Ariel frowned. "Can't you use your Illumination Spell?"
"Of course not."
Muen had already tucked away the light from before.
"Isn't it more interesting when a place like this is pitch black?"
"Pitch black..."
Ariel’s gaze turned wary again. "You aren't going to... again, are you?"
"I told you, I won't..."
"Alright, alright, I'm joking. I believe you."
Ariel took a step closer. "So, what do we do next?"
"Next?"
"It's so dark in here, and I don't have night vision right now," Ariel said quite naturally. "What if we get separated?"
"I see..."
Muen thought for a moment and asked tentatively, "Can I hold onto you?"
"No. You're trying to take advantage of me again," Ariel huffed.
"Not your hand. Just your wrist," Muen said seriously. "It's a necessity, isn't it?"
"If it's just the wrist..."
Ariel pondered seriously for a while, appearing somewhat hesitant.
But on second thought, just holding a wrist wasn't an overly intimate gesture. She had nothing to feel guilty about.
And Muen was right; it was a necessity.
"Fine."
Ariel held out her fair, slender wrist.
Muen smiled slightly and gently took hold of that smooth, delicate wrist.
The lace trim of her sleeve brushed against the back of his hand, making his hand itch—and his heart itch along with it.
The two continued forward cautiously.
The haunted house was designed after a famous ancient mansion, featuring the long corridors typical of the Imperial nobility, though these were much narrower and more dilapidated. There were pitch-black holes scattered across the floor and walls.
To avoid those holes, Ariel had to stay close to Muen, but she was also observing her surroundings.
Before entering, she had seen the brief introduction at the door. It said this was an ancient mansion from hundreds of years ago. The mistress of the house had been brutally murdered by her husband and his lover. Her body had been hacked into eighteen pieces and buried throughout the estate.
The mistress’s resentment wouldn't dissipate, and she happened to gain the power of a mysterious artifact, returning as a malevolent spirit. She killed everyone in the mansion, including her husband and his lover, and turned them all into undead monsters whose souls could never return to the Goddess's embrace.
So, the standard way to escape was to find and destroy that mysterious artifact while being hunted by the mistress and her horde of undead.
It sounded decent enough—simple and direct without too many twists. And if Ariel guessed correctly, there was probably a hidden ending where one could find all the pieces of the mistress’s body to pacify the Final Boss.
The story was good, and the horror atmosphere was excellently crafted. She could see Muen had put a lot of effort into it.
But the only problem was...
Ariel’s gaze swept across the surroundings and landed on a painting on the wall.
The painting depicted a beautiful woman with fair skin but a sorrowful expression.
The painting didn't look particularly special, as many such paintings hung on both sides of the corridor. They were the past masters of this mansion, fitting the narcissistic decorating style of noble lords.
But the moment Ariel’s gaze swept past, she keenly felt the eyes in the painting move.
It was as if a ghost full of resentment was possessing the painting, secretly spying on them, the intruders.
However, when Ariel looked back seriously, the painting showed no abnormalities, as if it had just been her imagination.
But that eerie feeling of being watched for a split second crawled over her skin like maggots.
An ordinary person would have already been frightened into subconsciously immersing themselves in the mansion's horror.
But Ariel thought about it.
"Bastard," she said, staring at the painting.
"Try looking at me one more time and see what happens."