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... irst time since the battle began.

(Shuten Douji’s Fist Dance{Ken-mai}. They say it’s the embodiment of destruction and violence, but it’s not like it’s without technique. I’ve never seen martial arts so uniquely refined.)

When one hears about the specs of the being called Shuten Douji, anyone would imagine an ultimate embodiment of violence far removed from the realm of technique or ingenuity.

It’s not that this is actually wrong; Shuten Douji was indeed an absolute viole ...

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“Master Ian!” She called.

Ian smiled with the usual mischievous smirk that he always used. His crimson eyes trailing a little over her room and spotted the black dress over her bed and shifted his eyes over to the woman in front of him. He stepped forward and spoke. “Where did you acquire that dress?”

“Mr. Harland gave it to me.” Elise replied and strained her neck to see Ian’s brows knitted in its elegance.

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His grin grew bewitching as though something had stirred deep inside the scarlet eyes that he had. He slowly slid his hand over the collar of her dress, sending a cold shiver that startled her for a moment due to its freezing temperature. After unbuttoning the first two buttons on her collar, he tilted his head down, whispering to her ears. “Because they want to be the one to undress the cloth.”

He paused and kissed her neck, turning the pale skin to red before retracting his move to fix his eyes on her and leisurely replied. “Unfortunately, you can’t wear the dress over there with this.” He chuckled and passed a box over to her hand. “And the fortunate news is I prepared a dress for you.”

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