Chapter 10
# Chapter 10: Just Another Day
Thesia removed the silver stiletto dagger hanging between the vines, her slender fingers brushing over the thin needle-like blade, examining it slowly as light played across its surface.
“You know the rules, Funis. No matter how many times you ask, I cannot agree,” she said softly. “If you want it, come and take it yourself. Take my life, and you can be free as well.”
Funis straightened her posture again. She rotated the revolver’s cylinder, removing the practice rounds from their chambers one by one.
“As a matter of courtesy, Miss Witch,” the silver-haired girl lowered her gaze slightly. “Acting rashly is always impolite. That’s not what a lady would do.”
Thesia tossed the ornate stiletto dagger high into the air—its decorative value far exceeding its practical use—and after tracing a dazzling arc, the dagger landed firmly in the floor in front of Funis’s pure white patent leather Mary Jane heels.
“Throwing knives at your sister in front of a guest is rude enough,” Thesia said coldly.
Funis lowered her eyes to gaze at the dagger, maintaining her silence.
“Stasi, I’m sorry, but could you leave us for now?” As if changing masks, Thesia suddenly turned gentle and soft-spoken as she turned to the witch Stasi. “I’ll handle the matter with Moira, don’t worry.”
“But…”
Stasi’s gaze shifted between Thesia and Funis, hesitating.
“My sister and I have some private matters to deal with,” Thesia smoothed the chestnut curls on Stasi’s shoulder, smiling faintly. “Nothing to worry about, just everyday business.”
“All right.” Stasi seemed somewhat uncomfortable as she turned and waved her hand. “Take care, Lady Thesia, and, um, this beautiful young lady… good morning, and goodbye.”
Stasi made a point of bidding farewell to Funis before leaving.
Finally, she very politely closed the door behind her.
Leaving Thesia and Funis alone.
“Hypocrite,” Funis said softly.
The smile gradually faded from Thesia’s face as she quietly glanced sideways at the silver-haired girl.
“You deliberately brought her here—you just wanted to make that girl keep her distance from me, so-called possessiveness…” Funis continued her previous motion of removing bullets, metal casings clinking between her fingers. “Acting gentle, kind, and considerate in front of them to gain their trust…”
“But what’s wrong with that?” Thesia dusted off her skirt, unconcerned by Funis’s moral criticism. “I need the girls from the society to work for me, and these girls with nowhere else to go need my guidance. It’s simply a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Four practice rounds, two empty casings.
Funis released them, letting them fall and bounce, playing a discordant melody on the floor.
“There’s nothing wrong with it at all. Your decision is quite perfect,” she gently raised her arm, revealing a leather ammunition pouch hidden beneath the cloud-like frilly wide sleeves of her formal dress. “As long as the goal is achieved, whether the means are base or noble doesn’t matter.”
Quick and practiced.
At a speed almost impossible for the eye to capture.
Six metal live rounds with a deadly gleam were already held between the girl’s porcelain-white fingers.
“Just as this revolver is a tool to me,” she then unhurriedly loaded them one by one into the cylinder chambers, “the Black Rose Society is a tool to you, the witches of the society are tools to you, and I am likewise a tool to you.”
“For a moment, I thought I was facing another version of myself,” Thesia stood in place watching Funis load her gun. “You’ve learned well, perhaps too well. I thought you would be more stubborn.”
Having finished loading, Funis hesitated to close the cylinder.
“I am Funis, Miss Witch. A nightmare demon, a witch, Funis,” she said softly. “Sera Fred is already dead. That respectable, righteous law enforcer is not here.”
“Ting-a-ling—”
Silver bells chimed.
The girl suddenly shook the revolver in her hand, and as the cylinder clicked loudly into place, the floorboards at her feet burst open, and a vine covered with red roses precisely and swiftly locked the trigger and hammer.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Funis abandoned the revolver and immediately bent down to pull out the stiletto dagger stuck in the floor before her.
But that crimson color was faster than she was.
Like petals, like flowing blood, some scarlet substance snatched the stiletto dagger away before Funis could reach it, cleanly taking possession of it and turning it against Funis’s throat.
As if time had stopped, the entire training ground fell silent for several long seconds.
“Tap—tap—”
The sound of heels broke the silence.
The Blood Witch Thesia walked step by step toward Funis, who dared not move from her half-crouching position.
“Faster than yesterday, but still not enough, far from enough,” she applauded while shaking her head, both impressed and regretful. “I’ve been thinking lately, might keeping you in the hideout to train by yourself be a rather inefficient and tedious approach?”
“What new ideas do you have now?” Funis gritted her teeth.
Thesia finally arrived in front of the silver-haired girl. With a smile, she admired Funis’s current awkward state. “I hate that word ‘now.’ You know I won’t harm you.”
Taking away the stiletto dagger held by the scarlet blood mass, before Funis could stand up, Thesia grabbed the girl’s slender arm and embraced her delicate waist, pushing her down into the rose bushes.
Rich fragrance filled the air as brilliant petals floated.
The entire training ground was no longer covered with monotonous oak flooring, but a sea of crimson roses, containing sweet romance.
Funis immediately tried to break free and escape, but was easily entangled by the legs, with black stockings and white stockings rubbing against each other, producing a faint rustling sound.
“Mmnh♡~”
Her waist softened.
Funis couldn’t help but close her eyes, pressing her lips tightly to prevent herself from letting out overly sweet moans.
“It’s been a year before we knew it. From initially blushing at wearing knee-high socks, to now wearing seven-centimeter heels without changing expression, you’ve really become amazing,” Thesia gazed lovingly at the beautiful crystal girl beneath her, gently caressing Funis’s cheek. “Tell me, how many milliliters did you wring out before bathing and changing last night?”
Sweet gasps escaped from the corner of her mouth as Funis raised her hand to cover her eyes.
“Huff, hah~ All thanks to your wicked tastes…”
Between light breaths like fragrant orchids, the girl complained through gritted teeth.
Indeed.
Funis had been living with Thesia for nearly a year, and this woman, knowing full well about Funis’s special physiology, still forced her to wear white knee-high socks or white pantyhose every day, making her maintain composure while constantly under intense stimulation.
As her acting skills became more refined, in recent months Thesia had even gradually begun to demand higher heels, from three centimeters, five centimeters, up to the current seven centimeters.
More and more excessive.
Sitting, standing, walking, running—these ordinary actions were infinitely magnified in difficulty and torment for Funis, yet she still had to maintain external elegance and propriety, not allowing her expression any relaxation.
So to better maintain her outward appearance, Thesia had also prepared special underwear for her.
Its function was to absorb moisture.
“Are you shy? Unwilling to tell your sister?” Thesia urged, poking the soft flesh at the girl’s waist. “I’ve always been concerned about whether you’re getting enough water each day.”
With a hint of sobbing in her voice.
Funis again gritted her teeth to endure, and then very reluctantly, in a tone both awkward and contemptuous, stated the shameful number that she was forced to measure and record precisely every day.
“One thousand… four hundred and thirty-one…”