Silver Bottle XIII

Gilan stood ramrod straight, dressed as a male servant. He held a tray in one hand while the other had pierced through the woman's throat.

Expressionless, he pulled his hand free, bringing out a handful of steaming blood.

Rip.

Droplets of blood scattered.

The woman's eyes widened as she clutched her neck and fell stiffly to the floor with a dull thud.

Having undergone modifications through "human alchemy," her vitality was remarkably tenacious. Even with her throat pierced, she did not die immediately.

The skin on her arms and legs began to writhe continuously. Greenish-blue scales emerged and receded erratically, as though her near-death state had thrown them into chaos.

Most notably, a thick, long snake tail grew from her tailbone, writhing and lashing about without pause.

Gilan bent down and crouched, wiping his bloody hand against the woman's body until it was clean.

Then, still holding the tray, he quietly watched her struggle. Once she had completely lost her life, he reduced her to Mystery Points.

The colorful number "1023" at the corner of his vision jumped to "1049."

Gilan adjusted his collar, wiped the blood from his cheek with a finger, and calmly stepped onto the stairs.

Knock, knock.

The door to the second floor was knocked on.

"Come in."

Fried, the leader of the Grafting School seated at the head of the table, spoke.

The next second.

The door opened.

An ordinary-looking, short male servant carried a tray to the table and set down the drinks.

"Hm?" Fried frowned deeply and demanded, "Why are you the only one here? Where are the other male servants?"

"Th-this..." The short servant looked terrified and hesitant. "Mr. Fried, Miss Trish is in the back kitchen..."

As he spoke, he cautiously stepped up beside the head seat, bent down, and leaned