I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

That number translated to somewhere between a hundred and thirty to a hundred and fifty percent improvement in Aurora’s physical condition.

A figure Pandora had thought through carefully.

Not so outrageous that it couldn’t be explained away by a talented practitioner catching an unusually good streak of inspiration—too far past that line would draw the kind of attention and scrutiny she didn’t want.

But not so underwhelming that whoever was watching through Unit 039’s eyes would walk away unimpressed.

As for the actual truth of it...

Pandora’s clear eyes carried a faint, deliberate light as they met Unit 039’s malachite gaze head-on.

The attendant had already pulled herself back together. Whatever had moved through her expression a moment ago—that brief, involuntary complexity—was gone. Sealed away, as if it had never surfaced at all.

What remained was exactly what a proper attendant showed: measured attentiveness, and the kind of programmatic respect one offered someone whose craft had clearly earned it.

“Yes, Miss Pandora.”

Unit 039’s voice had returned to its usual steadiness.

“The objective data aligns fairly well with Miss Aurora’s subjective description. The combined efficacy of the triple compound represents approximately a forty percent improvement over the original twenty-seven-potion regimen.”

Then, with perfect naturalness, a gracious smile settled onto her refined face, and the words that followed flowed out like something rehearsed.

“Miss Pandora’s alchemical skill is truly remarkable. To complete such complex personalized formulation refinements in such a short time, and achieve such a significant improvement... I imagine there are very few alchemists in the entire Dead City who could compare.”

“That’s really too much.”

Pandora raised a hand in immediate deflection, her smile shifting into something more self-effacing, even slightly flustered.

“This was honestly just luck—I happened to find a few key reaction balance points at the right moment. Under normal circumstances, it would take extended practice and repeated attempts before results like this would even be possible.”

She paused, then looked toward Aurora with a genuinely open expression.

“And Aurora and I know each other well. I have a reasonable grasp of her body’s data, her reaction patterns, even some of the finer details of how her constitution behaves. That familiarity is not a small factor—it’s actually an important one.”

“With a subject I didn’t know, I couldn’t promise results anywhere near this level. I’d probably struggle to hit even the seventy percent from the first batch.”

It was deftly done. She had redirected a portion of the credit toward familiarity and luck—plausible, believable, and neatly closing off any avenue for probing the technique’s broader applicability.

“Still, considering your age, and the precision of control you've demonstrated...”

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Unit 039 was not satisfied with that answer. Or rather, whoever stood behind Unit 039 had no intention of letting the subject close so easily.

The compliments kept coming, one rolling after the next.

“Your future achievements will certainly not stop here.”

“Miss Pandora, you may well become the next great master alchemist of this generation.”

But regardless of how high the praise climbed, Pandora maintained the same calibrated modesty throughout.

Against the probes embedded in Unit 039’s words—some overt, some carefully concealed—every response she offered was airtight. She neither diminished herself excessively nor made any commitments. She left nothing that could be taken hold of.

It was the skill of someone who had spent years walking the knife-edge of social conversation without slipping. Smooth. Practiced. The kind of thing most people couldn’t manage at this age.

For someone who had grown up as an earl’s daughter, however, it came as naturally as breathing.

“By the way, Miss Pandora.”

Unit 039’s voice broke the brief quiet that had settled over the workshop.

She inclined her head slightly, her malachite eyes resting on Pandora with quiet attentiveness.

“The hour is getting a little late. Dinner won’t be far off. Would you happen to be available? Mr. Julian would like to meet with you.”

A short pause.

“Regarding the Disciplinary Court investigation—some of the relevant materials are sensitive enough that passing them through a Palmfiend isn’t entirely secure. A direct conversation might be more appropriate. Miss Aurora is of course welcome to join as well. Mr. Julian mentioned it’s been a while since he’s had a chance to catch up with you.”

“Me? Oh—yes, of course...”

Aurora came back to herself with a slight start when her name landed. She gave an automatic response, but it came out a little vacant, a little slow.

Even for someone as slow on the uptake as she was, she should have understood by now.

Unit 039 was not an ordinary Live Iron Golem attendant.

From the very beginning—appearing here specifically on Julian’s word—to the deliberate move with the blood analysis just now, to the way she was delivering this invitation...

In some capacity, she was Senior Brother Julian’s eyes. She had been watching everything that happened here from the start. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

But what was quietly unsettling Aurora was something else entirely.

My Lady had clearly seen through it from the beginning. And yet she hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t given Aurora so much as a quiet warning.

And even the act of brewing the potions for her—something that had felt, in the moment, like pure generosity—now carried another dimension. There had been other calculations behind it. A performance element. Intended for an audience that Aurora hadn’t known was present.

A gift tailored specifically for her.

She should have felt overjoyed about that. Moved, even.

But when something else got folded into it—when the gift became partly a demonstration, staged for someone watching from the side—it changed the quality of the thing.

It felt like being told a beautifully wrapped present had been arranged with someone else’s eyes in mind, as much as your own.

The joy it had given her hadn’t disappeared entirely. But it was no longer quite the same pure thing.

Maybe, sometimes, not knowing was better?

If she had never noticed 039’s strangeness at all—if she had stayed inside that uncomplicated happiness—wouldn’t that have been a cleaner feeling?

Aurora was still drifting through these thoughts, her gaze slightly dim, moving to follow the other two toward the door, when—

A warmth pressed into the center of her right palm.

She went still.

The memory of Unit 039 maneuvering for the blood sample was fresh enough that she didn’t look down. Didn’t let anything show on her face.

Instead, her fingers closed around it on instinct—tight, careful, pulling whatever it was firmly against her palm.

Like grabbing hold of a lifeline.

Like closing her hand around a small secret she didn’t want anyone else to see.

She fell into step behind Pandora, steadied her breathing, and rejoined the conversation between Pandora and 039 about the dinner venue at the right moments, just as she normally would.

By the time they reached the open-air restaurant on the thirty-second floor—the top level—and attendants were guiding them toward the reserved table, Aurora quietly slipped away under the pretext of changing clothes and freshening up, and made her way back to her room first.

Click.

The door closed.

The eyes and sounds of the outside world sealed away.

Aurora stood with her back against the door, her heart beating a little faster than usual.

She slowly opened her right hand.

Lying in her palm was a small note, folded down to a compact square—simple, slightly makeshift.

And beside it.

Three miniature crystal vials. Each one no wider than a finger.