I Revived My Maid, Now She Hungers for My Blood

Chapter 185: The Botanical Garden in Rain and Fog

That was the logic. This neighbor, Ember, was a potential asset. And Pandora had come to the same conclusion.

Just then, the Palmfiend on the table trembled.

It made no sound. For her work, Nicole kept her Palmfiend on silent mode.

Her eyes snapped to the device.

New text scrolled across the skin surface. Nicole’s pupils shrank to points. Then, the corner of her mouth curved into a cold, satisfied smile.

“So it’s confirmed…” she muttered.

“Wilbur, that bastard. During that explosion, I disrupted the ‘Sloughing Decoction’s’ healing process.”

“Even with Aldrich’s personal potions for recovery, he was left with a lingering internal injury. It slowed him down.”

“That’s good news.”

A flash of satisfaction, quickly replaced by a deeper regret.

“It’s a shame he still made third rank. An internal injury can’t bridge the gap between Second and Third…”

The memory of nearly dying at his hands made her expression sour.

But her thoughts returned to the reply from Pandora.

The other woman probably couldn’t join this time either.

“What a pity…” Nicole murmured, a complex mix of emotions in her eyes. “Pandora and her maid… they’re strong. Not a monster like the Scarred Woman, but still powerful. If they joined in, with my sister’s strength… maybe we could…”

Her voice trailed off, but a cold, sharp killing intent flashed in her eyes. Her thoughts drifted into more specific, far more dangerous plans.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice her sister, fresh from killing a difficult game boss, lift her head from the screen. The girl turned, her gaze finding Nicole. In eyes far too deep for her age, the silhouette of her deep-in-thought sister was reflected.

At the same time, in the small yard below the house, on that patch of carefully tended black soil, the Droop-Head Corpse Maiden variant—the zombie with the black-red flower on its neck, like a bowed head—swayed, almost imperceptibly.

Deep within the stamen, a fine, invisible hallucinogenic powder, carrying a faint sweet-rot scent, drifted with the dawn breeze, silently merging with the damp air...

Nicole’s visit to Ember went even better than she’d expected.

Without much probing or bargaining, Ember quickly agreed to cooperate and set a time.

Of course, Ember shared Pandora’s suspicions. She showed even more vigilance, clearly worried the “counter-attack” was a trap.

In the end, they agreed. They’d go, they’d watch, and they’d decide what to do based on what they actually saw.

..................

Three days later.

A rainy, foggy day.

Fine, cold threads of rain, mixed with the wet air rising from the ground, formed a heavy, gray blanket that smothered the Botanical Garden.

Inside the glass greenhouse at the garden’s core, a drop of water condensed on the tip of a massive fern leaf.

Drip.

The sound was swallowed by the drumming rain on the glass.

The next moment, two crimson, spider-like appendages tore through the same leaf with terrifying speed!

The sharp crack of tearing plant matter and the whistle of the limbs shredding the air shattered the oppressive quiet of the greenhouse.

From the thick rain and fog, a figure shot out without a sound.

It was a tall man, one-eighty-five, with a large but gaunt frame and a sickly, bloodless pallor. Through his damp clothes, a network of bluish-purple, slowly coiling vessels was visible just under his skin.

His face was that of a man in his late twenties, with sharp features and a high-bridged nose. But his deep-set eyes and the heavy shadows beneath them gave him a gloominess, an exhaustion, a neurosis that far outstripped his age.

The most striking feature was on the right side of his neck.

A palm-sized, gray-black patch of sickly filth, like a terrible burn or ulcer. The skin at its edges was twisted, proliferating like some ugly brand.

This man was The Blood Tonic, Aldrich.

Just as Nicole’s intel said, on this day, three days later, he launched his counter-attack on the Botanical Garden.

The rest of the garden was already a symphony of slaughter. The sounds of gunfire, explosions, roars, and rain carried from a distance. This central greenhouse was no safe zone.

It was likely worse.

Bang!

A gunshot exploded in the humid, rain-filled greenhouse!

The bullet, a near-invisible streak, grazed Aldrich’s left cheek!

The skin tore, leaving a long, thin white mark that immediately began to well with dark red blood, stark against his pale skin.

Aldrich didn’t even flinch. He just grinned, a cold, excited smile.

The two spider-leg appendages behind him plunged into the wet mud and broken foliage.

Then, they pushed.

They launched him like a stone from a slingshot, springing him toward the direction of the bullet, a ferocious pounce into the dense shadows of mutated vines deep in the greenhouse.

The attacker was The Scalpel. One of the Garden’s main defenders.

Facing Aldrich’s ferocious counter, The Scalpel tried to dodge back, to melt into the shadows of the vines perfect for concealment and mobile combat.