Chapter 11 : Let’s Do Something Grown-Ups Do

Hall studied the scene before him.

This girl, who should have been pure and sacred, now sat before him like an innocent child—completely unguarded in the presence of a man.

Her legs, wrapped in white silk stockings, were exposed to his gaze, delicate feet on full display.

Her skirt wasn’t long, and her thighs weren’t pressed together—through the shadowed gap, he could just make out a flash of white.

He knew exactly what that white was.

To be fair, he wasn’t exactly a gentleman. And given the situation, looking was clearly a gain—ignoring it would’ve been a loss.

Besides, her calm demeanor suggested this was intentional.

In the game, Christine only wore this kind of sweet, everyday outfit during the more stable, routine side routes.

If this were a normal start to her storyline, she wouldn’t have invited him here—nor would she be sitting like this, dressed this way, as he arrived.

Still, after a moment, the girl in the white dress subtly brought her legs closer together.

With a serene expression laced with a hint of feigned indignation, she asked, “Is it nice, Baron Hall?”

“Not bad at all. Thank you for the generous view, Miss Saint.”

Hall had no idea what game she was playing.

But this kind of talk? Definitely a turn-off for any decent girl.

Perfect.

He’d play the creep.

Let Christine never come looking for him again.

“I’m not a saint yet,” she corrected. “I’m only a candidate.”

“Right.”

Her words were confusing—seemingly random, without clear intent.

She had clearly wanted him to look, yet now she was dodging the topic.

In the game, Christine was one of the most important heroines—intelligent, compassionate, and deeply principled.

But she wasn’t the type to toy with men.

So what did she want?

“Viscount Hall,” she said, her tone shifting. “I’ve heard you enjoy toying with girls’ feelings.”

Hall’s stomach dropped.

Christine was indeed a yuri character in the game, but her romantic subplot was one of the lightest among all the heroines.

The story said she had dedicated her life to saving the suffering of the world, so love held no interest for her.

With other heroines, there was always that unspoken tension—just one step away from confession.

But Christine? She was different.

She despised evil.

Was she calling him here to catch him in the act? To expose his so-called degenerate nature?

That made sense.

His earlier behavior had been dangerously close to crossing a line.

Her posture, her clothing—so exposed, so inviting.

If he had lost control, if he’d tried anything…

The moment he laid a hand on her, silver-armored knights would likely burst in, blades at his throat.

So this was a trap?

Good.

That meant she didn’t like him—she despised him.

Perfect.

He leaned into the role.

“I have no interest in toying with girls’ feelings,” he said. “But beautiful girls themselves? They hold immense appeal for me.”

He added, “I’ve heard in ancient Eastern kingdoms, men could have three wives and four concubines. Why can’t nobles in the Papal State do the same?”

Top-tier creep energy.

Hall was certain this line would kill the mood dead.

Now he just needed to leave without giving her any real leverage.

But then Christine dropped a bombshell.

“Baron Hall is so confident… would you like to try toying with my feelings?”

She wasn’t playing by the rules.

But Hall knew better.

This was bait.

He couldn’t bite.

Even if it wasn’t a trap, getting involved with Christine was a death sentence.

More importantly—she was supposed to be a yuri character. A saintess.

Why did she suddenly sound like, “Wanna play?”

Hall quickly reaffirmed his strategy.

“Oh? Miss Christine is serious?”

He knew the tactic—push forward to force retreat.

She couldn’t possibly agree to actually play with him, right?

Then he added, “Since it’s your suggestion… you’ll have to take the lead.”

Checkmate.

In the game, Christine had many suitors.

But the yuri route was just a gimmick.

She’d never reciprocate.

Even the girls in her harem only ever confessed to her—one-sided, unrequited.

Christine remained distant, compassionate, saintly—like a savior gazing upon the suffering world.

“You’re saying… I should chase you?”

“Exactly. My heart was never meant for just one woman.”

Seeing Christine fall into deep thought, silent and hesitant, Hall relaxed.

Excellent sign.

Half a minute passed.

He decided to escalate.

“If Miss Christine is disappointed… well, that’s just how I am. I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.”

Before Hall could turn, the girl called out.

Christine shifted her posture, slowly rising to her feet.

The hem of her dress, once resting on her knees, now fell straight down, revealing the full length of her slender, elegant legs.

Wrapped in white silk, the subtle curve at the top of her calves was enough to make any man’s pulse race.

“Am I not sincere enough, Baron Hall?” she said softly. “I prepared this outfit… this pose… all for you…”

Please, no, sister.

Hall knew what was coming.

If she kept going, he’d start feeling guilty.

He knew she was acting.

That knowledge kept his guilt in check.

But Christine seemed determined to press his psychological weak points.

“Baron Hall… do you think I’m lying to you?”

She lowered her voice.

“The Lord said, truth cannot be deceived. When you came in… you saw everything, didn’t you? Even my… my…”

He heard her inhale sharply.

She didn’t finish the word underwear.

Instead, she whispered,

“This is real.”

If it was real, he wished it were fake.

If it was fake, he wished Christine would just—

Forget it.

Better not push it.

The heroine wouldn’t die before him—he’d die first.

No matter what Christine wanted today, he’d play along—until the act ended perfectly.

“Then… let me take a closer look?”

Another feint.

No real risk.

And honestly, he was being repulsive enough now.

Any normal woman would hate him.

But he’d go all the way.

For his own safety.

Hall stepped forward, closed the door behind him.

The second floor of the attic had only a small skylight.

The room was dim, eerily silent.

Christine stood bathed in the afternoon light, motionless.

Watching Hall approach slowly, reaching out his right arm.

Then he said,

“If you really want to play with me… let’s do something adults would do.”

“Oh… and what kind of adult things did you have in mind?”

Christine replied in a voice slightly huskier, more alluring.

She wasn’t afraid.

He simply said,

“Spread your legs.”