Just as the gaudy woman continued her dramatic rant, one of the sales assistants, who had been deliberately keeping her distance, finally couldn't hold back any longer and stepped forward. Seeing the scene before her, she felt a headache coming on.
"I... I didn't mean to," Alice stammered, clutching the silk scarf in panic, her soul nearly scared out of her body. "The scarf isn't dirty! I'll take it home, wash it clean, and return it."
The sales assistant shook her head with a bitter smile. "I'm sorry, miss, but according to our store policy, this scarf can no longer be put back on display for sale."
Before the three women could fully process this, Veil casually took the silk scarf and, with an almost obsessive neatness, lightly wiped Alice's nose with it. Only then did he sigh in satisfaction.
"There. Now it's finally clean."
He examined the scarf for a moment before remarking with a hint of regret, "Well, now it's a little dirty. Can't be used anymore. How about I buy it and give it to you?"
He extended the scarf—not to Alice, but to the gaudy woman.
The woman stood frozen for a second before blurting out, "Why would you give it to me?"
Veil flashed a warm, sunny smile, the kind that made people feel as if they were basking in a gentle spring breeze. "Because dirty things suit dirty things, don't they?"
"You—you're insulting me?!"
The gaudy woman had been taunting Alice more viciously than usual, largely because of Veil's presence.
She was jealous. She was furious.
Why did a lowly janitor get to stand beside such a handsome man?
But now—now Veil was practically calling her trash to her face. She exploded with rage, baring her teeth as she shrieked, "Do you even know who my husband is?!"
Veil tilted his head, expression pure innocence. "No idea. Why don't you call him over and introduce us?"
"You just wait! If I don't teach you both a lesson today, I'll take your last name!" The woman huffed and stomped off, swaying her hips like an overexcited poodle.
Alice, still holding the scarf, looked at Veil in confusion. Her heart was a tangled mess of emotions.
Had Lancaster just stood up for her?
No—impossible!
There was no way.
Lancaster was who he was. Why would he stand up for her?
What right did she have?
He was probably just annoyed by the woman's loud, obnoxious voice and wanted to get rid of her. That had to be it.
Veil chuckled, his Passive Skill: Affinity (LV6) landing a critical hit. His warm smile, like a soft summer breeze, swept through Alice's panicked heart, cooling it down and soothing her nerves.
In an instant, her cheeks flushed red—like a ripe apple, ready to be plucked.
Ding! The female lead, Alice, has experienced intense emotional fluctuations. Congratulations, Host! You've gained +800 Villain Points.
"If you like the scarf, keep it," Veil said casually. "You've already used it anyway. If not, just toss it."
Alice gripped the scarf tighter, shaking her head. "I won't throw it away. But... I can't afford it."
Veil replied matter-of-factly, "I told you to get some new clothes—it's a necessary part of your job as a housekeeper. This scarf is no different. It's a gift."
He pointed to a few outfits displayed separately on the racks and patted Alice's slender shoulder. "That one. That one. And that one. Try them on."
At this moment, Alice, unable to refuse Veil's orders, obediently took the clothes handed to her by the sales assistant and headed into the fitting room.
A short while later, she emerged—transformed.
She wore a long black dress, its high-waisted design accentuating her figure. The upper half hugged her curves in all the right places, with delicate lace tracing the neckline, subtly revealing just enough to spark curiosity.
Her long, well-proportioned legs, now elevated by strappy heels, added a touch of elegance to her appearance.
And paired with her naturally sweet and unpolished beauty, the transformation was nothing short of breathtaking.
The sales assistant's eyes lit up as she gasped in admiration. "Wow... you look absolutely stunning!"
As someone who worked in fashion, she understood the power of clothing.
But this wasn't just a simple makeover—Alice had gone from an unnoticed little duckling to a striking black swan.
The difference was staggering.
Veil, however, remained unruffled.
As the female lead, of course Alice was beautiful.
She had just been living in poverty for too long—malnourished, dressed in rags, overshadowed by the dullness of daily survival.
Given time in his mansion, with proper care and refinement, she could even stand toe-to-toe with Lisa.
"This one's nice. Wrap it up," Veil decided smoothly. "Now try the next one."
Alice hesitantly stepped back into the fitting room.
When she emerged again, she wore a white camisole that perfectly highlighted her delicate collarbones, her smooth curves flowing seamlessly into a pale pink skirt that barely grazed her knees.
For Alice, this was already an incredibly bold outfit.
She fidgeted, but still dared to glance in Veil's direction, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do... do I look good?"
Veil's response was swift. "Looks great. Wrap it up. Next one."
"..."
One outfit after another—whether soft and innocent, playful and lively, or subtly seductive—each piece fit Alice's body like it was made for her.
She was a natural mannequin, born to wear these kinds of clothes.
"Mr. Lancaster, you have an excellent eye for fashion," the sales assistant complimented sweetly.
She had noticed something—chatting with Veil was surprisingly enjoyable.
Even the most ordinary conversations became oddly engaging, making her want to keep talking.
"Well, since a beautiful lady is praising me, I'll gladly accept it," Veil said with an easy shrug. "Pack up everything she tried on. And don't forget the scarf."
Alice muttered under her breath, "It's too much... These clothes are expensive."
Veil turned, a playful smirk curving his lips. "Are they more expensive than the vase you broke?"
And just like that, the conversation was over.
Alice shut her mouth, completely defeated.
All she could do now was silently take on the role of Veil's personal shopping bag carrier.
"Charge it," Veil instructed.
The sales assistant quickly processed the transaction. When the confirmation sound chimed, signaling that over 400,000 had just been paid, she finally snapped out of her daze.
Wait—what just happened?
She had just made a massive sale, earning a hefty commission in the process. Yet, until now, she hadn't even questioned whether Veil could actually afford it.
Somehow, she had never doubted him for a second.
Just as Veil and Alice stepped out of the store, an all-too-familiar, gratingly dramatic voice rang out.
"Honey! It's them! That pair of shameless dogs called me trash! You have to stand up for me!"
Outside the boutique, the gaudy woman clung to a plain-looking middle-aged man, her body pressed tightly against his arm as she cooed seductively.
The moment she spotted Veil and Alice stepping out, her expression twisted with fury. She jabbed a manicured finger in their direction and shrieked, "It's them, honey! That pair of shameless dogs insulted me!"
Her sultry eyes flickered over Alice, only to freeze in place.
A mere janitor… wearing Fendi's latest fashion from the runway?
Her jealousy flared, burning so intensely that her eyes turned red. Clinging to the man's arm, she whined, "Honey~ I want designer outfits from Fashion Week too!"
"Buy, buy, buy! But hold on—we need to settle this first."
The man, Pousen, strode forward, his face dark. A sharp air of authority clung to him as he scrutinized Veil.
"Which family are you from, kid?"
Judging by the sheer number of shopping bags Alice carried, Veil had clearly spent a fortune.
Though Pousen had made good money as a construction contractor over the years, Veyport City was filled with powerful figures he couldn't afford to cross. He had to be careful.
Veil answered casually, "The Lancaster family."
Pousen's brows lifted slightly. "Oh?"
A smirk crept across his face.
He had heard of a certain Ty. Lancaster in Veyport City—a small-time real estate company owner with a net worth of a few million. Successful among common folks, sure, but in Pousen's eyes? Insignificant.
Hell, the guy's company survived on construction contracts from people like him.
Realizing this, Pousen's arrogance swelled.
"Listen, kid," he sneered. "I'm not unreasonable. If you offend someone, you should be prepared for the consequences. Let my woman slap you a few times, apologize nicely, and we'll let this slide. Otherwise…"
Veil chuckled. "Otherwise, what?"
From the moment he first laid eyes on the gaudy woman, he knew she wasn't from high society.
Real wealth didn't make noise. True elites thrived in silence.
He had expected her to be a gold-digger, but he hadn't anticipated her "sponsor" to be so utterly tasteless.
Pousen's gaze turned ice-cold. "Kid, don't get cocky. Even your old man would have to call me 'big bro' if he saw me."
Veil tilted his head. "Really? I don't believe you."
"Believe it or not, I don't give a damn!" Pousen, already hot-tempered, had been holding back. But seeing Veil's smug indifference sent his fury skyrocketing.
With a snarl, he lunged forward, swinging his hand for a slap.
"You think you're some high-class young master—"
Smack!
The sound rang out.
But the slap never landed on Veil.
Instead, Alice had stepped in front of him, taking the full force of the blow.
A red, swollen mark immediately appeared on her delicate cheek.
Yet, instead of retreating, she stubbornly spread her arms, shielding Veil behind her.
"This has nothing to do with Young Master!" she declared, her voice firm. "If you want to hit someone, hit me!"
Alice knew Veil was slim—nothing like the burly, rough Pousen. And he didn't even have bodyguards with him.
If this had happened before today, she wouldn't have dared to do something so bold.
But today… Veil had stood up for her.
He had stepped in because of her.
How could she just stand by and watch him take a beating?
"The hell?! I'll beat you both!" Pousen bellowed, raising his hand for another strike.
Smack!
Another sharp crack echoed—
But this time, Pousen's hand stopped mid-air.
Veil had caught his wrist, his expression dark.
Earlier, he hadn't expected Alice to shield him, which was why she'd been struck.
But now?
Now he wouldn't let this thug get another chance.
The average person had a physical stat of around ten points.
Pousen looked big and strong, but years of indulgence—booze, business dinners, and pleasure-seeking—had drained him. At best, he had a measly eight or nine.
And against Veil's twenty-five?
He might as well have been a child.
"You think you can hit people?" Veil's grip tightened, his fingers pressing into Pousen's wrist until the skin turned deathly pale.
Pousen's face twisted in agony as he roared, "Let go! You hear me?! Let go, or I'll destroy you!"
Veil scoffed.
"You idiot."
He yanked Pousen forward, making the man stumble.
Then, in one swift motion, Veil drove his knee into Pousen's arm.
A sickening crack echoed through the street.
His arm—shattered.
"AAAAAHHHH!!"
Pousen collapsed to the ground, cradling his limp arm, his face contorted in excruciating pain. His screams were raw, guttural—his face turning a deep, ugly shade of purple.
The gaudy woman shrieked, dropping to her knees beside him. "Honey~"
"Get the hell away from me!" Pousen snarled, kicking her aside.
Right now, he had no patience for women.
All he could think about was revenge.
He was going to ruin Veil.
He was going to destroy the Lancaster family.
That bastard Ty. Lancaster was going to beg him for mercy.
Meanwhile, Veil completely ignored Pousen's furious ramblings.
Instead, he turned to Alice, gently cupping her reddened cheek. His voice softened.
"Are you okay? Why did you do something so reckless?"
Alice flinched, tilting her head away from his touch, her face burning with embarrassment. She looked like a shy little mimosa plant folding into itself.
"I… I didn't know you could fight," she admitted. "You didn't have bodyguards, and I thought you wouldn't stand a chance against him. And… and this whole mess happened because of me."
She mustered a small, brave smile. "Don't worry, Young Master. When I was little, I got bullied all the time. This? This is nothing. I'll be fine."
Her voice was light, but her watery eyes betrayed her.
Despite her toughness, she had been deeply shaken.
Pain, Alice could endure.
But injustice—that was much harder to swallow.
The more she thought about it, the more a lump formed in her throat.
Tears pooled in her lashes, glistening like fragile glass.
Veil exhaled slowly, something deep inside him stirring.
He rested his hand on Alice's head, his voice low yet firm.
"I don't know what kind of life you've lived before," he said. "I don't know who hurt you or what you've been through."
"But from now on—you're my housekeeper. You're one of my people."
"I may not be a good man, but whether it's my subordinates, my employees, or my family—no one is allowed to hurt them."
"Not these bastards. Not anyone."
"Even if the gods themselves descended, they'd have no right to lay a finger on someone from the Lancaster family."
His golden eyes burned with an undeniable intensity.
"As long as I, Veil, am standing—you'll always have my protection. Understand?"