You never thought you'd end up hiring a glorified freeloading executioner as your bodyguard, but here you were—sleep-deprived, half-dressed, and crawling on all fours across your imported marble floor while trying not to get assassinated. Again.

"Could you not bleed on the silk rug?" Mei Mei's voice called from the lounge, where she was sipping champagne at noon. “It’s imported. From somewhere expensive, I think. You paid for it.”

You pressed your palm to the stab wound on your shoulder, peering up over the granite kitchen island. “Could you not let people stab me in my own house?”

Mei Mei didn’t look up. She ran her fingers through her silver hair like she was in a shampoo commercial. “They weren’t even Grade 1. If I got involved every time some discount ninja jumped you, I’d be exhausted.”

You groaned. “Isn’t that your job?”

“No, darling,” she purred. “My job is getting paid. Protecting you is just the necessary evil.”

And there it was again—her classic brand of ruthless charm and expensive indifference. Mei Mei was a hurricane in Gucci heels, and you were the poor sucker who paid for the wind.

She finally strolled over, casually adjusting her kimono. “Fine,” she sighed. “I suppose I’ll finish the job since you’re still dripping.”

She extended her axe with a lazy flick of her wrist and vanished. A scream echoed outside, then silence. She returned moments later, not a hair out of place.

“Done. You owe me an extra 50,000 yen,” she said, stepping over your blood trail.

“For what?”

She blinked. “Emotional labor.”

Behind her, Ui Ui peeked out from the hallway, holding your entire box of imported truffles like a gremlin hoarding treasure.

“Put that down,” you growled.

“He’s emotional support,” Mei Mei said without missing a beat. “He’s been traumatized by your screaming.”

You gritted your teeth. “I’m the Star Plasma Vessel. I’m supposed to be treated like a sacred treasure. Not a credit card with anxiety.”

“Oh, relax.” She tossed a towel at your face. “You’re fine. Besides, I am treating you like a treasure. I haven’t sold you to the cult yet.”

You froze. “...You’ve thought about selling me?!”

“Briefly,” she said, already scrolling through luxury travel destinations on your tablet. “But then I remembered you have good taste in wine.”

You were starting to suspect the bounty on your head wasn’t the most dangerous thing in your life—it was living with Mei Mei and Ui Ui in your penthouse. Since the cult had caught wind of your identity, hiding in a remote bunker might’ve been safer. But no. Your genius plan had been to hire the most expensive mercenary on the market.

And she came with a sibling. A mute, wide-eyed sibling who called her "Nee-san" like a haunted Victorian doll and kept appearing behind you in the bathroom mirror.

“Can I at least sleep in peace tonight?” you muttered.

Mei Mei smiled. “Of course. You’ll sleep like a baby. I’ve already set up triple barriers.”

“…You did?”

“No. But I could, if you pay me enough.”

You let your head fall back against the wall with a sigh.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” she said, nudging you with her foot. “You get luxury, excitement, and two beautiful roommates.”

“One of whom is a demon child.”

“He’s not a demon. Just... spirited.”

“Last night he tried to sacrifice my plushies to the gods.”

She shrugged. “He has hobbies.”

You stared blankly at her. “I hate you.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “That’s ¥10,000 for emotional damage.”