"I think, if it were Master, you'd surely make your love surrender completely, in both body and soul."

"... Haha."

Faced with Aluka’s admiration-filled praise, Ann couldn’t help but feel her lips twitch slightly.

Thankfully, Aluka didn’t know that the real reason she had come here was to apprehend her runaway beloved. Otherwise, it would completely dismantle her dignified image as a master.

It was all because of the young master.

Why did he have to run away?

It seems her methods really need to be a little more severe.

Look at Aluka—just two short days, and it seems like her beloved has already surrendered both body and heart completely.

"Come, shake hands."

"Woof."

"Come, lie down."

"Woof."

"Come on, wag your tail."

"Woof?"

"Ah, I forgot, you can't do that. Then just wiggle your hips."

"Woof."

"Good, good boy, Rod is such a good boy. I’ll give you some meat in a bit!"

"Woof woof."

He’s honestly just like a dog.

Ann withdrew her gaze.

Could she truly make the young master reach this level as well?

"Ah, right, the tea!"

After flaunting her results in front of Ann, Aluka suddenly slapped her forehead, remembering she had water boiling on the stove.

She hurriedly ran outside.

"Master, I’m going to make some tea, make yourself at home."

But halfway there, Aluka popped her head back in through the door, pretending to be serious as she gave a warning:

"Don’t do anything bad while I’m gone, okay~"

"How can that be, I already have someone I love."

"Hehe, just joking. How could I ever suspect you, Master?"

With a playful smile, Aluka disappeared behind the door.

Without Aluka, the room suddenly became quiet.

The man on the floor slowly crawled to a corner, curling up in the makeshift "dog house" that Aluka had carefully prepared for him. It was as if he didn’t care at all how utterly undignified he appeared, mimicking the movements of a dog in every aspect.

"She’s already trained him this well? Aluka seems even more skillful than I imagined."

Ann murmured, softly marveling, before shifting her attention elsewhere.

This room seemed to have once been a master bedroom. The floor still bore the marks where a large bed had stood for many years. It was now mostly empty; the bed was gone, leaving behind only a dressing table and wardrobe.

"Hmm, this is..."

Ann gently picked up a picture frame from the dressing table.

Inside the frame was a painting.

It depicted a family of three.

In this world, ordinary families often couldn’t afford the expensive "magical photographs." So, most people would hire a cheap street artist to capture a moment through painting, later framing it as one would a photo.

Such paintings weren’t usually very intricate, but Ann could clearly identify from a glance that the adorable little girl depicted, held by a middle-aged man and a woman, was a child Aluka.

"These must be Aluka’s parents? She really does resemble them."

"Come to think of it, the portrait on the living room wall was of her parents too, wasn’t it? That means this house probably belonged to them as well. But, where are they now?"

"Strange, why would I even care about this?"

If they’re not home, it must just mean they’re out attending to something. What’s there to be suspicious about?

It seemed even her spirit was feeling worn out after chasing the young master for two days straight.

Ann laughed self-deprecatingly, setting the frame back in its place. She glanced at an object sitting next to it.

It appeared to be a small ornament, a figurine depicting a young girl hugging a heart tightly, as if trying to squeeze it deeply into her chest.

Ann didn’t pay it much mind.

Then, almost reflexively... she opened one of the dressing table’s drawers.

The faintly curling edges of her lips froze instantly.

"This... this is..."

Her mouth fell slightly agape as she stared at the contents of the drawer.

Inside were a myriad of items she’d only ever seen in certain books but had never actually got a chance to use—"toys," so to speak.

The Mistress’s Happy Balls...

The Mistress’s Happy Whip....

The Mistress’s Happy… shelves upon shelves of all kinds of "Happy" implements, each one more bewildering than the last.

"These... these things, can they really be used on the human body safely?"

Even for Ann, who had studied human anatomy in painstaking detail in order to avoid accidentally killing Moen in a single blow, the sight gave her pause.

Some of these items, though labeled as "toys," appeared far closer to instruments of torture.

To think of using these on the young master...

No, her mind was getting thrilled right now.

With a sudden motion, Ann slammed the drawer shut.

She rubbed her face, trying to suppress the faint blush that had unintentionally surfaced.

As a maid, she was being far too indecorous.

At the very least, her excitement should wait until after she actually captured the young master.

...

Wandering around for a while, she eventually circled back to stand before the man again.

"You—"

She knelt down, looking at the man, intending to ask something.

But the words froze on her tongue.

The man's beard was clean shaven and his face was clearly well-groomed.

But.

His eyes were lifeless, his expression devoid of emotion.

His gaze seemed to linger on something, but whatever he saw was empty, and even Ann’s reflection failed to reflect in his pupils.

When Ann placed her hand under his chin, he reflexively raised his head.

And then—

"Woof."

Though his eyes brimmed with despair and anguish so profound it seemed he might drown in it, his voice was inexplicably cheerful.

Like an automaton, once press the switch then it moves..

Smile brightly, dance the pre-programmed steps. Yet within, his soul was already long dead.

"You... are you okay?"

Ann’s tone wavered unexpectedly as she spoke.

She suddenly imagined.

What if her cherished Moen young master were to end up like this man? Would she still be happy?

Even though she had resolved that simply having his body would suffice.

But would she?

"Woof..."

A flicker of confusion crossed the man’s eyes.

He now seemed only to notice that the person in front of him was not the demon who had tormented him relentlessly all the time.

"Rgh... g-gkk..."

Suddenly, he clutched at Ann’s arm, his throat producing some nonsense noise. He seemed to want to speak, but no words formed. It was like a castaway stranded on a deserted island for two decades, incapable of vocalizing human language after so long.

And yet, he had only been "trained" for two days at most.

At last, struggling with monumental effort, Ann managed to decipher the words he was painfully trying to convey.

"D-don’t... don’t go near that room..."

"That room?"

Ann followed his gaze to the end of the corridor, where a closed door stood.

"Why not? What’s in there?"

The man didn’t answer.

Instead, he began trembling uncontrollably, gripped by a colossal fear. His broad palms gripped Ann raw.

Ann knew that this man had once been a warrior capable of facing even apex-level magical beasts. Yet now, he seemed as fragile as a newborn.

"D-don’t… don’t go near there... Ughh... There..."

"There’s *what*? Why are you crying?"

Ann was puzzled. Though she tried to comfort him and extract clearer information, the man suddenly let go of her hand and curled back up into his corner.

"Woof."

With his head bowed low, he reverted to behaving like a dog once again.

...

*I love you.*