I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

Outside the revolving door of the Rust Greenhouse Hotel, with its inlaid stained glass panels, two figures were already waiting.

The grey-white light of early morning filtered through the sparse gaps between buildings on either side of the street, casting both of them in cold, indifferent silhouettes.

One was Julian Bennett—someone Pandora had become quite familiar with by now.

He wore the same well-tailored formal attire that gave him a scholarly air, paired with rimless glasses. The whole effect was mild, refined—like a young, accomplished, approachable university professor.

Standing slightly ahead of him was someone else.

The man had messy, dark green hair cut to a medium length, the strands curling like tough weeds.

He wore the standard deep black uniform of the Disciplinary Court. The fabric was thick and stiff, with dark silver thread embroidered at the shoulders and cuffs in the complex insignia representing discipline and order.

His posture was rigid, hands hanging naturally at his sides, fingers slightly curved.

He wasn’t deliberately projecting any kind of aura, but the cold set of his expression combined with the authority the uniform itself represented created an invisible, icy pressure that radiated outward regardless.

Pandora recognized him.

Or rather, she had seen him before.

He clearly didn’t recognize the current Pandora.

“Get in.”

The green-haired man’s lips barely moved. His voice was low and steady.

His grey eyes met Pandora’s for one second, then shifted away toward the “special vehicle” parked at the hotel entrance.

“Good luck.”

Julian smiled gently, his voice as pleasant as ever, as if he were simply seeing off a friend about to embark on a distant journey.

Pandora didn’t say anything.

She simply gave a small nod—directed at Julian, and also at Aurora, who stood a few steps behind him with her lips pressed tightly together and worry plain in her eyes.

That was her response.

Then she turned and walked toward the Disciplinary Court’s “special vehicle” with steady steps.

The so-called “special vehicle” was very much in the style of the Corpse Hall.

Its base was a specially conditioned and domesticated Giant Crawler.

The thing was two sizes larger than a standard Crawler. Its skin was a dull, rough grey-brown, covered in healed scars and reinforcing metal rivets.

Several thick arms—covered in keratin plating and reinforced metal armor—extended from beneath its flat, broad abdomen, supporting it firmly against the ground.

And embedded into the middle of its torso—which resembled an oversized water buffalo’s body—was a sharp-edged, austere metal cabin.

Well, that part was actually worth some credit.

Pandora thought to herself as she stepped onto the metal footplate that extended automatically from beneath the cabin.

The mount itself was a living mutated corpse, sure. But passengers didn’t actually have to enter some uncomfortable biological cavity.

The experience was essentially the same as riding in a reinforced carriage. In fact, because the Crawler’s gait was naturally stable, and the cabin interior had been spatially expanded, the space inside was even more stable and warm than a typical carriage.

She climbed aboard.

The interior of the cabin was more spacious than it looked from outside.

Dark-tinted glass windows ran along both sides, allowing a clear view of the outside.

The seats were long benches upholstered in black leather. Sitting on them was quite comfortable.

She knew perfectly well that the destination of this journey was not some pleasant, relaxing place.

It was the Disciplinary Court—a place apprentices feared, a place they generally wanted nothing to do with.

But after Pandora settled into her seat, she showed no particular seriousness or tension.

She even adjusted her posture to lean back more comfortably.

Her face still carried that relaxed, almost casual smile.

She turned to the side, looked through the window at Aurora and Julian still standing at the hotel entrance below, and gave them one last wave.

She didn’t look like a suspect being taken in for harsh interrogation.

She looked more like a tourist about to depart for some scenic destination on a leisurely trip.

“Bang.”

The next moment, the heavy metal door was abruptly shut from outside.

A dull, resonant slam.

Cutting off the light and sound from the outside world.

Immediately after, an extremely faint, almost imperceptible sense of movement came through.

Pandora knew the Giant Crawler they were riding had begun to move.

Its steps were steady, its speed not slow, yet exceptionally smooth.

“You have a good attitude.”

A low voice sounded from across the cabin.

The green-haired man sat on the bench opposite Pandora, his body held perfectly upright, hands resting on his knees.

The corner of his angular face twitched, pulling into a stiff, forced smile that could honestly be called ugly. His eyes stared straight at Pandora, devoid of any actual humor.

“I hope you can maintain it when you’re at the Disciplinary Court, facing a formal interrogator.”

Pandora blinked. The smile on her face brightened a little.

“Huh? I thought you didn’t know how to smile.”

“So... is it just that you don’t smile normally because you’re bad at it?”

The stiff smile on the green-haired man’s face vanished instantly.

The already somewhat stagnant atmosphere inside the cabin seemed to freeze completely along with his expression.

“Why’d you stop talking?”

Pandora acted as though she hadn’t felt the pressure at all. Her smile grew even brighter, like she’d discovered an interesting toy.

“Can’t talk? Or did I hit the mark and now you’re embarrassed?”

At that, a flash of cold sharpness passed through the man’s grey eyes.

“Shut your mouth, thief.”

“Oh?”

Pandora drew out the sound, a sly glint passing through her eyes.

“I thought... I was still just a ‘suspect’ at this point?”

“So you've already convicted me?”

She widened her eyes in exaggerated surprise, her tone full of innocent confusion.

“Wow, has the Disciplinary Court’s case process gotten this streamlined? You just get in the car and the conviction step is automatically completed?”

The green-haired man’s breathing quickened imperceptibly for an instant.

He stared at Pandora’s face—young and harmless-looking, yet every word carrying a barb—and finally understood completely.

This girl was not to be trifled with.

Not only that, she was extremely skilled at using words to create trouble, exploit loopholes, and seize on any slip of the tongue.

Engaging in verbal sparring with her in an enclosed cabin was purely asking for a headache.

This time, he simply shut his mouth completely and didn’t say another word.

He didn’t even look at Pandora anymore.

He turned his head directly and fixed his gaze on the scenery outside the window.

Seeing this, Pandora decided to quit while she was ahead.

She didn’t say anything more either.

She just leaned back comfortably into the soft seat and even began humming a little tune—wordless, light, and casual.