Chapter 535 - 9: Douglas
Almost as soon as they stepped inside, an Attendant in a well-tailored dark uniform and with impeccable manners emerged silently from around a corner, bowing slightly. "Mr. Carlos, Lady Douglas is waiting for you."
After speaking, the Attendant stepped forward smoothly. He gestured, taking Grove’s place and lightly supporting the boy’s arm.
The boy did not resist. He didn’t even glance at the Attendant, obediently allowing himself to be led forward.
Grove looked greatly relieved, yet at the same time, he felt a strange sense of loss and unease. In the end, he simply bowed to Carlos, not daring to say another word, and quickly turned to leave. His figure soon vanished through the doorway.
Then, led by the Attendant, the boy and Carlos proceeded toward the far end of the hall.
They boarded an elevator with a brass grille and a deep red carpet. It rose smoothly, eventually stopping at a floor.
Outside was a short, even quieter corridor laid with a thicker carpet. At its end stood a heavy, dark wooden door.
"Please, Mr. Carlos. Lady Douglas is waiting for you inside." The Attendant stopped by the door, bowed slightly, and made a welcoming gesture. He then stood respectfully at attention, going no further.
Carlos took a deep breath, adjusted the collar of his jacket, and fixed a deferential expression on his face.
He then stepped forward to take the Attendant’s place. Reaching out, he gripped the boy’s upper arm and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Inside was a shockingly spacious office.
The high, arched ceiling was decorated with exquisite reliefs, and the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city’s patchwork of rooftops.
Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting bright patches of light on the floor.
Lining one wall was a row of solid wood bookshelves reaching to the ceiling, crammed with heavy tomes and file boxes.
In the center of the room, behind a dark red, solid wood desk so large it was almost absurd, a leather swivel chair sat with its back to the door.
Spilling over the back of the chair was long, flaxen hair.
The hair was impeccably styled, meticulously cared for. From the lift at the roots to the precise curve of the trimmed ends, every detail revealed exquisite effort.
Under the afternoon sun, the flaxen locks resembled a flowing river of gold, shimmering with a warm, soft sheen.
"Carlos, your efficiency disappoints me." A voice came from the direction of the swivel chair. It was surprisingly young and sweet, as if coated in honey, yet the tone was imperious and tinged with indifference. "If you continue to dither like this, I will seriously consider extending your graduation observation period."
Upon hearing this, Carlos’s body visibly tensed, and a flash of panic crossed his face.
He immediately released the boy, took two quick steps forward, and bowed deeply. His voice was filled with an eager, fawning desperation:
"My deepest apologies, Mentor Douglas! Please, calm your anger! It’s just that this target... the situation was somewhat unique, and it took some time to confirm and handle. But I assure you, he is absolutely worth it! He..."
"Shut up," the sweet, cold voice cut him off.
Just then, the high-backed swivel chair suddenly spun around without any warning.
Sitting in it was a girl who looked no older than thirteen or fourteen.
Her face was incredibly young, still retaining a hint of childishness. Her skin was fair and seemed almost translucent, and her features were as delicate as a doll’s.
She wore a daringly cut, brown, off-the-shoulder, sleeveless crop top that clung to her budding curves, revealing a slender waist and rounded shoulders.
She wore light-blue low-rise hot pants, from which two long, straight, and dazzlingly fair legs stretched out unabashedly. On her feet were a pair of intricately designed, white, strappy, mid-heel sandals. Her ten perfectly shaped toes were painted with a glossy, jet-black nail polish that gleamed in the soft light.
Why could her whole body be seen if she was sitting in an office chair?
Because, of course, the moment the chair turned, her entire body floated weightlessly up from the seat!
Like a feather, she drifted straight toward the boy and hovered before him. Her large, expressive eyes darted about, filled with unconcealed curiosity as she scrutinized him from head to toe.
She scanned him up and down, left and right, as if assessing a rare new toy that had just arrived.
She even floated in a small arc around him, her flaxen hair drifting with the movement and releasing a peculiar fragrance.
Ever since the girl had taken flight, Carlos, who stood to the side, hadn’t dared to lift his head. He trembled slightly, looking as if he wished he could bury his head in the carpet.
The girl hovered less than ten centimeters from the boy’s face. She tilted her head, studying him for another moment before her sweet voice breezily called out, "Carlos."
"Present, Mentor!" Carlos jolted.
"Roll out."
As if granted a pardon, Carlos didn’t dare hesitate. He immediately dropped to the floor and, in a ludicrous and pathetic display, actually used his hands and feet to roll out of the office, even managing to nudge the heavy wooden door shut with his shoulder.
The door clicked shut, leaving only the floating girl and the silent, standing boy in the room.
The girl’s lively gaze continued to roam over the boy, taking in his spotless black tunic, his loose black hair, and his calm, pale face.
The boy let her stare, his jet-black eyes meeting her gaze without flinching or showing a hint of curiosity. They were like deep, still pools, reflecting her floating form.
They stared at each other.
After what felt like an eternity, the girl seemed satisfied. She floated lightly back to the ground and stood before the boy, her turquoise eyes shining with excitement:
"Excellent, excellent. Carlos actually gave me a big surprise this time."
At that moment, the boy finally spoke, his voice as calm as still water. "Who are you?"
The girl gave a sly smile at his question. Framed by her faint beige eyeshadow and dewy, nude-toned lip gloss, the expression was particularly impish. "Me? I’m your master, of course."
The boy: ?
The girl continued matter-of-factly, "You’re my new toy. So, of course, I’m your master."
She tilted her head, studying his placid face as if searching for any ripple of emotion. "Of course, I’m not some cruel master. So, aside from your core identity as ’my most interesting toy’—which will not change—you can treat me a little more casually most of the time. You could even..."
As she spoke, she took a sudden half-step forward. With a small smile playing on her lips, she extended a slender finger, also painted with that glossy black polish, and gently tapped the boy’s chest over his black tunic.
"If you behave well enough, I might be gracious enough to invite you into my bedroom for a... ’deep chat.’ Of course, I’ve never actually done anything like that before, you know."
She blinked her turquoise eyes, her tone breezy:
"When the time comes... I’ll have to ask an experienced adult like you to guide me properly, won’t I?"
"Because I’ve already decided," she declared, pulling back her finger and clasping her hands behind her. She lifted her small chin slightly. "My toy will be the one to help me transition from a girl into a woman."
The boy: ?????