Way to Go, Bruce

Bruce was sprawled contentedly on the soft carpet, his fluffy tail lazily thumping against the floor. His dog face wore the satisfied expression of an almost motherly smile.

He'd just rendered great service!

While He Xi and Cyril had been off changing clothes and fussing about, Bruce had already explored the entire ballroom.

He felt that his sleek fur and unique canine charisma had conquered everyone here.

Though in reality, the servants simply recognized him as the dog Young Master Cyril had brought.

He'd successfully wandered around the feet of several tray-carrying waiters and scored plenty of delicious meat bones and pastry crumbs.

As he ate fragrant roast beef, he gently swayed his head to the rhythm of the music. His dog life had practically reached its peak.

Then, that comfort was shattered by a discordant note.

Just as he leisurely padded toward the next area that might contain food scraps, a gleaming polished boot suddenly kicked him in the rear!

"Tut! The countryside really is the countryside!" a disdainful voice rang out. "Even dogs can run wild at a ball! They've truly soiled this place!"

Bruce turned his head and saw William, with that lecherous face of his.

He'd been preparing to find a chance to leave his "artistic signature" on the man's expensive trousers when he followed the fellow's gaze and spotted Isla by the dance floor.

That man's eyes were glued to Isla in the distant corner!

Bruce didn't need to use his Dog Claw to know what filthy thoughts he had.

He hurriedly found He Xi, who had just finished changing.

And had his owner cut the guy off.

At that moment, William was glaring furiously at the two people on the dance floor.

For a dog to get revenge, even ten minutes was too late.

He silently slipped behind the man.

He sniffed the costly fabric, then raised a hind leg...

Isla lowered her head slightly, looking at their toes as they occasionally bumped together.

Her earlier confusion had turned into a sunset-like flush.

He Xi held her hand lightly, but she kept unconsciously wanting to touch the hair tie at the back of her head.

Oh no... this is so embarrassing...

Why did he suddenly come over? Did she hear what I said at the end this morning?

I've clearly learned court dance steps! Why am I dancing worse than Aunt Martha from town now...?

Did he see the hair tie? Will he think it looks strange on me?

Why did I agree to him as if possessed just now...?

This dress... does it make me look too... too much?

This guy who always gives up halfway... could he... possibly be a little interested in me?

But... after changing into this outfit... he really does... mm... look pretty good...

Meanwhile, He Xi's attention was completely drawn to the system notifications constantly refreshing before his eyes.

[Human: Isla's Favorability toward you has increased. Parsing Points +3]

[Human: Isla's Favorability toward you has increased. Parsing Points +2]

[Human: Isla's Favorability toward you has increased. Parsing Points +1]

[Human: Isla's Favorability toward you has increased. Parsing Points +1]

Dancing worked this well?!

He was overjoyed inside, feeling as though he'd found the secret to farming points!

The townspeople around them had gradually stopped at some point.

Their eyes had been drawn to the pleasing pair at the center of the dance floor.

As they watched the two go from stumbling awkwardly at first to gradually finding the rhythm, their steps becoming smooth and graceful, someone in the crowd began clapping first.

Clap... clap clap clap...

Before long, the scattered applause joined into a wave.

Yet amid this harmonious atmosphere, a small storm was brewing in a corner.

A burly woman was fiercely tugging her husband's ear with her thick fingers.

"Are your eyeballs about to fall into that little vixen's neckline? Is that a Goblin dung ball sitting on top of your neck? Can that skinny waist be used as firewood? Pah!"

The man grimaced in pain and shook off her hand, but his gaze remained drawn like a magnet to the long, slender legs beneath Isla's swirling skirt. His Adam's apple bobbed unconsciously as he forced out half a dry, awkward laugh.

"What gives you the right to nag? Whose drool was longer than that old Goblin's at the mine entrance? You kept staring at that pretty boy."

The woman's face instantly turned the color of liver.

"So what if I stared? Who told you to look like a humanoid troll?"

The man had been struck where it hurt. Humiliated and enraged, he raised his fist to swing it.

"Ahem, ahem!" Several coughs came from beside them.

His movement froze as he caught sight of several nearby townspeople watching the spectacle with teasing looks.

His raised fist hung stiffly in the air, and in the end, he could only spit bitterly.

After a while, the woman seemed to calm down. She nudged her husband with her elbow and asked curiously, "Hey, that young man... I don't think I've seen him before? Is he from our town? He's rather handsome."

The man snorted irritably. "I knew you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from asking! He lives at the westernmost edge of town, next to that patch of ruined woods. Seems he only moved here recently. His name is... He Xi Art something..."

The woman's eyes instantly widened. "He has a surname? Is he a noble Lord? No wonder..."

"Bullshit noble! Would a noble Lord live in that godforsaken place where birds don't even shit?"

"Then at least... his ancestors must have been nobles!" The woman's tone was certain, and even a trace of regret appeared on her face, as though she'd narrowly missed becoming a noble lady herself.

"Hmph, ancestors? No matter how grand they were, now he's still..."

"Pardon me," an aloof voice cut in, "but was the surname you just mentioned Atmesia?"

The man was already in a foul mood. "And who the hell are you—"

The words caught in his throat.

The speaker was a finely dressed young nobleman. Most striking of all was his Omega-shaped Chin. He held a silk handkerchief over his nose, his eyes brimming with disgust.

"My lord, I think it was Atmesia. You have a sharp eye."

William got the answer he wanted, yet he waved them off as if shooing flies and turned away. Looking at them for even a second longer felt like it would dirty his eyes.

Crude country bumpkins!

He kept feeling there was a stench of urine in the air, and it seemed to be coming from those two.

The smell was so overpowering that he could still catch it from a distance.

He quickly took out a bottle of perfume.

Psst, psst, psst—he sprayed himself several times.

Though that strange smell still seemed to linger, the heavy fragrance covered it up, making things much better.

Atmesia...

The corner of William's mouth curved upward.

He'd thought this fellow had some impressive background.

Just a fallen family that had long been swept into history's trash heap.

Not even a professional, perhaps a sickly weakling who wouldn't survive until tomorrow, and he dared compete with him for a woman?!

He stared at the man on the dance floor, holding Isla's slender hand and smiling brightly.

William felt that smile was completely fake. He must have tricked that innocent country girl.