The interior of the limousine was quiet, not the kind of quiet that felt peaceful, but the kind that lingered just long enough to become noticeable as it stretched through the space without anyone attempting to break it.
"Where's PewPew?" Angel asked casually, as if the silence had never existed in the first place.
Angela turned her head slightly, completely unfazed by the question.
"He's here."
With a soft snap of her fingers, PewPew—who had been sprawled across the seat cushions with his paws stretched out the entire time—shimmered faintly before reappearing, his invisibility disengaging so smoothly that it almost felt like he had simply phased back into existence.
Angel blinked, her gaze settling on him as realization slowly caught up.
"…Oh."
She leaned back slightly, studying him with mild interest.
"His reflection function has gotten a lot better," she said. "I completely forgot he was even there."
Angela turned to look at her, and the expression that formed on her face was difficult to ignore, her brows drawing together tightly as her eyes widened slightly, her nose scrunching while her lips parted into a small, disbelieving curve, as if she had just heard something so absurd that her brain refused to process it properly.
"…What are you even talking about?" Angela said flatly. "If you actually tried, you would've been able to find him, cloak or not."
Angel smiled lightly and reached over without hesitation to ruffle her sister's hair.
"I mean, yes," she admitted. "I probably could have, but that sounds like a waste of effort when I can just ask you."
Angela held her gaze for a moment longer before turning away, then shifted her attention without warning.
"Mimi."
The assistant, who had been doing an impressive job pretending she did not exist, stiffened immediately.
"Yes, my lady?"
"…Did you hear what she just said?"
Mimi did not hesitate.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
She kept her expression perfectly neutral, making it clear she had no intention of getting involved, not today and not ever if she could help it.
Angel raised both hands slightly in mock surrender before letting them fall.
"Alright, alright, fine," she said, though her tone shifted subtly afterward, becoming more thoughtful. "But still, even if I could locate PewPew despite the cloak, that doesn't make it any less impressive."
Her gaze returned to the small creature.
"He's not a simple shape," she continued. "He's fluffy, detailed, and irregular, so for every strand of fur to reflect properly without breaking the illusion or creating distortions… that's actually incredible."
Her lips curved faintly.
"That's genuinely impressive, sweetie."
Angela looked at her for a moment before giving a small, quiet nod.
"…Yeah," she admitted. "I'm really happy with it. PewPew makes a lot of current and future implementations easier to handle."
The conversation softened naturally after that, settling into something calmer as the earlier tension faded.
"What was it you wanted to ask earlier?" Angel asked.
Angela blinked once, then straightened slightly as she remembered.
"Oh. Right."
She paused briefly, organizing her thoughts.
"Why was everyone acting so strange about the banquet?" she asked. "We could have all just gone together in the limousine, and while I understand the safety argument, nobody there actually needs protection."
She frowned slightly, trying to make sense of it.
"I've seen all of them fight. They handle people, monsters, anything you throw at them without even slowing down, and some of them literally jump out of planes without parachutes for fun and still walk away unharmed like it's a normal day."
She glanced back at Angel.
"So I don't understand why they were so serious about splitting up."
Angel opened her mouth to respond, then paused, and for once, she did not immediately have an answer.
Mimi, on the other hand, let out a small, accidental laugh before she could stop herself.
Angel turned toward her instantly, and that alone was enough.
Mimi snapped upright, her posture rigid and her gaze fixed forward.
I see nothing. I hear nothing. I am a capable assistant. I understand nothing beyond my assigned duties.
She repeated the mantra in her head over and over as if it might save her.
Angela, however, had already noticed, her attention shifting toward Mimi as confusion flickered across her expression.
Angel exhaled quietly before deciding not to answer directly, instead turning toward PewPew.
"Send Angela a breakdown," she said. "From the end of the meeting up until we got into the car… actually, no, up until I asked you to do this action."
PewPew nodded in response.
His body shifted subtly as his system activated, a faint tint appearing in his eyes while the tips of his paws began to change color, the white gradually fading into pale blue before deepening into a richer shade as it spread upward in smooth, controlled layers.
The process continued steadily, transitioning from white to light blue, then to blue, and finally into a deeper tone as the analysis progressed before coming to a stop.
A moment later, the data was transmitted.
The color in his paws receded just as gradually as it had appeared, returning to their original white, while the glow in his eyes faded back into their usual soft, glass-like peach tone.
Angela received the file and opened it immediately.
[After the Meeting — Pre-Departure Events]
She scanned through it quickly before lifting her gaze again.
"…They're celebrating," she said.
Angel tilted her head slightly.
"Go on."
"It's about the potential engagement between Dr. Lucian Harrow and Miss Camille Dreyer," Angela explained. "And since everyone split into smaller groups, they're planning to get gifts for them."
Angel nodded once.
"Exactly."
Understanding settled into place as Angela leaned back slightly, processing it.
"…So the reason Mimi laughed is because I missed something obvious."
Mimi froze.
"I—wait—no—I—"
She panicked instantly.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that, please don't take it out on me, I don't want to catch strays—"
Her thoughts crashed into each other all at once.
This is it. My career is over.
Not her entire career. Just this one.
Which is worse.
Being a guide was supposed to be a laid-back job. Yes, she had to walk through those ridiculous, maze-like corridors and memorize every possible route so she would never get lost or lose the people she was guiding, but that was manageable. She practiced constantly, to the point where she could navigate the place without thinking, guiding people smoothly without hesitation.
And that was it.
That was the job.
Meetings were rare. The expectations were clear. As long as she did not mess up, everything stayed easy.
On top of that, every role within the Piao family was treated equally, regardless of rank, which meant even as a guide, she still received a full annual salary and benefits that most people would never even dream of.
And the best part—
She got to go places.
Important places.
Expensive places.
Places she would have never been allowed to step foot into otherwise.
All because she was a guide.
The people she worked with were not difficult either. The Piao family and the elite families connected to them were, surprisingly, relaxed. They were kind. They did not treat her like she was beneath them. Half the time, they brought her along, included her, let her experience things that should have been completely out of her reach.
She had seen more of the world in this position than she ever would have anywhere else.
And now—
It was about to disappear.
No.
She did not want that.
If she lost this job, she would not be thrown out completely. She knew that. She could always go back to accounting. That was her original placement, the reason she had even been hired into the Piao organization in the first place.
She had been known for it.
The "queen of numbers."
A title she absolutely did not want to live up to anymore.
Accounting meant structure. Repetition. Sitting in one place, dealing with numbers all day, every day, with no movement, no variety, no unexpected invitations to incredible places.
A strict schedule.
A fixed life.
A 7 AM to 3 PM routine.
Every. Single. Day.
No.
Absolutely not.
She hated numbers.
She loved being a guide.
It was simple. It was flexible. It let her breathe.
It could not be taken away from her.
It just couldn't.
A wave of dread washed over her as the image formed in her mind—her current life fading away, replaced by spreadsheets, schedules, and a desk she could not escape from.
Ah!
The sound almost slipped out of her.
Angela stared at her, and then something shifted as a small crack appeared in her composure, subtle but unmistakable, the corner of her lips lifting into a faint smile.
Mimi stopped mid-spiral, her brain short-circuiting as she stared in disbelief.
Angel, however, moved immediately, pulling out her capture device and taking several quick photos in succession.
By the time Angela realized what was happening, it was already too late, the images already sent directly into the family group chat.
Angela did not even need to check to know who had received them, because the moment it reached their mother, there would be no undoing it.
Ever.
She closed her eyes briefly before reopening them, making a conscious decision not to engage with that problem.
"What are we bringing to the banquet?" she asked instead, smoothly shifting the conversation before it could spiral further.
Angel blinked, then leaned back slightly.
"That's a good question," she admitted. "Honestly, I have no idea."
She paused briefly, thinking.
"A manor would be too predictable."
"…Yeah," Angela agreed. "Too obvious."
They both fell into thought for a moment before Angela spoke again.
"From the places you took the lottery winners to, is there anything you think would work?"
Mimi hesitated briefly before answering.
"…There is one place."
After a short pause, she continued.
"Madame Redin's tailoring house."
Angela's eyes lit slightly.
"That could work."
"The style fits," Angel added. "And if I remember correctly, Camille likes that aesthetic."
Angela nodded slowly.
"…Yeah, that sounds right, but if everyone else thinks the same thing, we'll all end up bringing identical gifts."
Angel let out a quiet huff.
"Then we will all look incredibly unoriginal."
A brief pause passed between them before Angela spoke again.
"…We could just ask Grace."
Angel glanced at her, then nodded.
"…That would work."
Without wasting time, she sent a quick message requesting that something appropriate be prepared for the banquet.
A second later, another thought crossed her mind.
Knowing Grace, there was already something prepared.