"Young Master~ what are you doing here~?"

Like the crescent moon hung in the sky, her eyes were beautiful.

But at this moment, Moen felt like a helpless rabbit caught in the predator’s gaze. His blood froze, and an uncontrollable chill seeped into his core.

"Ann... How—how did you find me?"

"Heh, Young Master’s scent—I could pick it up from ten meters away~"

Seriously, if yanderes are this capable, shouldn’t world peace be entrusted to them instead?

Moen didn’t have time to entertain stray thoughts; every muscle in his body tensed instantly.

He wasn’t naive enough to believe he could rely on the strategy of "sneaking away unnoticed." Deep within, he had already prepared himself for another face-off with Ann.

The countless hours spent relentlessly training in the Black Book weren’t in vain!

Bang!

Moen slammed his fist against the cabinet door.

The cabinet door, already old and frail, groaned under the impact, its hinges giving way. It collapsed forward, crashing toward Ann, who had been leaning against it.

Caught off guard by the sudden attack and the unexpected strength behind it, Ann stumbled back, forced to retreat.

Seizing the moment, Moen leaped out of the cabinet, following up with a swift kick that sent the cabinet door flying toward her.

The metal door instantly caved in upon impact, and Ann, as light as a bird with broken wings, was hurled against the wall, trapped under its weight.

"Sorry."

Moen muttered an apology before turning on his heel to flee.

But Ann wasn’t about to let him get away that easily.

With another loud bang, the abused cabinet door was forcefully thrown aside. As though propelled by immense power, it hurtled like a missile toward the fleeing Moen, forcing him to halt in his tracks and sidestep to avoid it.

In the brief moment the cabinet door passed him, Moen's sharp instincts caught sight of a ghost-like figure clinging closely behind it.

Ann!

Taking advantage of the cabinet door’s cover, Ann rapidly closed the distance between them. Her hand, gripping a blade that glinted ominously in the dim light, thrust mercilessly toward Moen's abdomen.

"Relax, Young Master. I already anticipated this scene long ago. I've studied human anatomy, so I won’t hit any vital organs," Ann said expressionlessly.

"That’s even scarier, okay!"

For a moment, Moen was flustered, but he quickly regained his composure.

Without a second’s hesitation—as if purely out of instinct—he raised the machete in his hand to intercept the incoming blade.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Steel clashed against steel, sparks flying and filling the air with a cascade of shimmering remnants. The sharp-edged weapons weaved blinding patterns as they collided relentlessly.

Ann’s attacks bore down on him like an unrelenting storm, each movement as sharp and precise as if the blade were simply an extension of her arm. Every stroke seemed close to flawless.

Yet—

Despite her relentless offense, and it dawned on Ann that: she couldn’t break through Moen’s defenses.

The machete in Moen's hand seemed like an old, familiar companion, masterfully maneuvered to counteract her suffocating strikes with perfect efficiency. On occasion, he even dared to sneak in counterattacks.

But...

How could the Young Master know how to wield a machete so skillfully? After all, under her *vigilant surveillance* (crossed out: monitoring), he had never even touched a kitchen knife before.

Was this... innate talent?

No. Ann couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Just as she couldn’t fathom how Moen had managed to escape from her cage earlier.

"Young Master, since when have you become so formidable? Have you been secretly training in martial arts?" Ann narrowed her eyes skeptically. The Young Master had changed a lot in the past few days.

"But... Why didn’t I sense it?"

"Heh, who knows? Maybe I’ve been training in my dreams," Moen smirked wickedly.

Dagger Combat Level 5!

Countless hours spent wielding a dagger in the Black Book space, suffering from death over and over again, had finally manifested into real-world mastery.

Although the machete wasn’t quite a dagger, its similar blade type didn’t hinder Moen’s ability to adapt.

He didn’t just fend off Ann’s attacks; no—he began to push back.

Moen switched tactics, transitioning from defense to bold, aggressive moves that grew increasingly confident and ferocious.

More than that—Moen advanced toward Ann instead of retreating.

"What...?"

The rarest flicker of panic appeared in Ann’s eyes.

Under the rusted machete in Moen’s grip, Ann found herself strangely overwhelmed, struggling against the pressure of his attacks.

How?

How could that be possible?

Her own combat skills weren’t supreme due to the constraints of her role as a personal maid, which left limited time for training. But even so, she had dedicated several consistent years to refining them.

Yet Moen, the Young Master who she monitored closely every day, how can you have time to practice?

Could he truly have honed these abilities while dreaming?

"It’s over!"

Seizing an opportunity amidst Ann’s brief distraction, Moen deftly disarmed her, sending her blade flying. He lunged forward, positioning his machete for a decisive strike toward her abdomen.

But just as his blade was about to strike—realizing that Ann truly couldn’t evade—Moen frowned and shifted the machete’s angle.

He turned the blade so that the blunt side would strike her.

Still, even the blunt edge packed a punch. Under Moen’s full-force strike, Ann’s body curled up in pain while her graceful, elegant face contorted heavily, unable to mask her agonizing discomfort.

"It’s over."

Suppressing the pang of guilt in his heart, Moen forced himself to speak curtly with a stoic expression.

"Ann, your plan is busted."

"Heh, Young Master is so gentle—you even used the flat side of the blade against me?"

"Considering you haven’t done anything irreversibly harmful to me and you’re still my personal maid..." Moen sighed.

"Honestly, you should just give up. You can't no longer imprison me, Ann. If you surrender now, I promise to be lenient with you."

"Young Master... So you truly care for me after all?"

As if ignoring his plea entirely, Ann lifted her head. Strangely flushed cheeks glowed with an unhealthy crimson hue.

"And I truly care for you as well, Young Master. Since we share mutual feelings, why not come to me—and never leave my side again?"

"Sorry, but I have to say no to this kind of love," Moen replied, shaking his head firmly.

"Ah, I see. In that case, I have no choice but to overwhelm you with a love so intense it’ll change your heart," she whispered. Despite the lingering pain wracking her body, Ann’s lips curled into an unsettlingly frantic smile.

I want you.

So badly.

I want to completely possess you forever, my beloved Young Master.

"Hm?"

Watching her demeanor become increasingly deranged, Moen suddenly felt an ominous premonition creeping into his mind.

What’s going on?

Why... is it starting to feel like Ann might have another trump card?

From their prior skirmish, Moen had gauged her capabilities and found that overall, her realm wasn't really very strong. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have relied on drug and ambush tactics earlier.

It made sense. After all, as his personal maid tasked with attending to his daily needs, she wouldn’t have had abundant time for rigorous martial training.

At most, she possessed slightly more physical strength than the average person.

But at this very moment, every cell in Moen’s body was screaming that something was wrong.

"Damn it—better to strike first!"

Without hesitation, Moen swung his machete toward Ann again.

Once more, the flat side of the blade led the strike.

But this time, his target was her swan-like neck.

The goal was to knock her unconscious.

That was Moen's intention.

However—

"Huh?"

The words came involuntarily as Moen gasped in shock.

Because halfway through his swing, the machete suddenly stopped dead in its tracks.