I want cake

Ririko looked around the room.

A refrigerator, a bathroom, a wardrobe... and a bed.

A dark wooden headboard, gray-blue sheets, and only one pillow. This appeared to be his most private space.

He had not chosen the patient room... there were surveillance cameras and nurses making their nighttime rounds there;

Nor had he chosen the laboratory... the equipment there would distract him.

He had brought her deep into his own den, then said, "You can do anything you want."

Meanwhile, he wore a device that could give him an injection at any moment and sat to one side, "observing."

Ririko thought this was probably the funniest experimental setup she had ever seen.

She ignored the old man and walked barefoot to the wardrobe.

She opened the doors. The clothes inside were far too orderly for a man who lived alone.

The shirts were arranged by color, from light to dark: white, pale blue, dark blue, and gray, each hanging perfectly straight on its hanger.

The suits hung on the other side, with exactly equal spaces between the hangers.

Without asking his permission, she reached in and pulled out a set of black silk pajamas.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the bottom of her patient top and pulled it up, then tugged down the elastic waistband of her pants...

In two deft movements, she stripped off the faded patient clothes.

For an instant, her entire silhouette was exposed beneath the dim yellow light.

The curve from her ribs to her hips was smooth, her waist exceptionally narrow, her skin dazzlingly pale. Her whole body seemed to glow in the shadows.

She put on the black silk pajamas. The silk slipped down from her shoulders, settling quietly against every contour of her body.

Ririko turned to examine her reflection in the wardrobe door.

The pajamas probably fit Hugo perfectly, but on her, they looked loose and languid.

The fabric draped loosely around her body, its folds rising and falling to the rhythm of her breathing.

She shifted her gaze from her reflection, tilted her head slightly, and looked back toward Hugo.

He was staring at her without blinking.

He was utterly absorbed, as though admiring an artistic performance.

Ririko noticed that the hand resting on the chair back had curled slightly around a corner of the leather.

With almost brutal willpower, he was controlling every reaction of his body.

She turned to face him.

As she turned, the hem of the silk pajamas fluttered gently, revealing a small stretch of thigh above her knees.

[Current Infatuation Value: 38/100]

Ririko narrowed her right eye slightly.

She lowered her head, raised a pajama cuff to her nose, and sniffed gently.

The silk carried a faint scent of baking soda, just like the dull, uninteresting shampoo in the patient room.

"Can I have these pajamas?" She lifted her eyes to Hugo.

[Current Infatuation Value: 39/100]

Hugo's expression remained calm, but the tips of his ears had reddened a little.

"You can have them later," he said.

Ririko blinked her right eye.

"So stingy." Her tone was playfully coaxing.

She did not press him by asking when "later" would be.

Her experience with NPCs told her that pushing this topic any further would cost her points.

"I'm hungry," she said, changing the subject. "I want something to eat."

Hugo's eyebrows twitched.

"What would you like?" he asked.

Her voice was sultry. "I want cake. The kind with sweet cream."

Hugo was silent for a moment.

Then he pressed an inconspicuous button on the edge of the desk. "Have the kitchen prepare a cake... six inches, 8.75% sugar, 30% cream."

Ririko had not expected him to specify even a cake order to two decimal places.

She turned to the refrigerator and found no soda or juice inside, only an assortment of colorful nutritional supplements.

"Is this what you usually eat?"

"Along with meals planned by a nutritionist," Hugo said.

She drawled, "Not even any cola. How boring."

After rummaging through the refrigerator for a while, Ririko found a bottle of milk.

She carried it back to the chair and sat sideways, draping her long legs languidly over the opposite armrest.

She shifted into a comfortable position, moving her long legs back and forth several times without a care for what it might do to the man across from her.

She opened the milk bottle and took a sip with her lips against the rim.

She moved the bottle away, leaving a faint trace of milk foam on her lips.

"Want some?"

She held the bottle out to Hugo.

Hugo's gaze moved from the milk bottle to her lips, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

He reached out, but the instant his fingertips touched the bottle, Ririko suddenly pulled it back.

His fingers closed in midair, grasping nothing.

She smiled mischievously.

At last, I get to tease this old man who thinks he's so clever.

Hugo withdrew his hand without showing any embarrassment or irritation at being teased.

Ririko took another sip of milk.

She weighed her options. There was a bathroom here, a bed, and the privilege of having cake whenever she wanted. She could not let this be her only visit.

She needed more time alone with Hugo, until Thomas Wayne came to visit.

She had to create an opportunity to have a proper conversation with Thomas, let him know she had saved his entire family, and get him to take her back to Wayne Manor.

Then she could reap her rewards from Bruce.

The plan was perfect.

All she needed now was time-and to win this old man over.

She tilted her head to one side and asked casually, "What experiments is Jerome doing?"

Hugo's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Why are you asking about him?" Hugo asked.

Ririko gently swirled the milk bottle. "He and I... get along pretty well."

Even she found it funny when those words came out of her mouth.

Hugo's brows drew together.

"He'll be leaving Arkham soon."

Ririko's hand paused.

"Where will he go?"

Without warning, Hugo reached out and caught her wrist.

"You mustn't concern yourself with other men." For a moment, his voice lost its composure.

She looked at the complicated expression on Hugo's face.

"I understand. Let go of me. It hurts."

The last two words were a lie. His grip was not tight, but they would make him realize he had acted impulsively.

At her words, Hugo immediately released her.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Hugo went over and accepted a tray at the heavy door.

On the silver tray sat a perfect six-inch cake. Beside its white porcelain plate were two sets of silver knives and forks and two dark napkins folded into fans.

The cake was piped with ivory cream, its surface completely undecorated, with no fruit or chocolate shavings.

Ririko had not expected to get freshly made cream cake, fragrant and sweet, in the middle of the night at Arkham.

She did not touch the cutlery. Instead, she reached out with her index finger and plunged it straight into the cream.

The gesture made the ever-cautious Hugo's back stiffen.

How could she...

She brought her fingertip to her mouth with a large dollop of cream clinging to it.

The sweetness of the cream made her happy.

She scooped up another dollop and extended her finger toward Hugo.

"Have a taste."

The cream was less than an inch from his lips.

It trembled slightly in the air, giving off a faint, sweet fragrance.

At that moment, Hugo's expression completely shed its veneer of a "doctor."

He lowered his head and tasted the sweetness of the cream.

[Current Infatuation Value: 42/100]

[Infatuation Value interpretation: He cares considerably about your presence and finds it difficult to let you go.]