Ximo still remembered the exact description of the daily task the System had assigned her: “Be bullied by any target (Incomplete).” Up until now, this daily task hadn’t changed at all.
But now that she thought about it, since it was “be bullied by any target”—if that target was herself, that should count too, right?
The System judged task completion based on the target’s thoughts. Selina had felt like she was being placated, so the previous plot task had counted as complete.
Now, to complete this daily task, Ximo felt she met the conditions herself. She could only say that this crappy System was truly useless—it had forced her into becoming a masochist!
In the original story, Xiliya had completed these daily tasks without any difficulty because she got bullied almost every day. Completing them was just something that happened naturally in her daily life.
But now, as a little maid, no one deliberately bullied her in the first place. Plus, in this life, Xiliya had basically rewritten all the plotlines, so no one dared to treat her like a soft persimmon to pinch whenever they were bored.
So Ximo figured that if this daily task really had a loophole, it meant she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore… She could be self-sufficient from now on, okay?
Ximo rummaged through the Handheld Suitcase. Last time, she had noticed it contained quite a few bottles and jars—maybe there was something useful in there.
Though Ximo was determined to complete the daily task, she had no intention of punching herself a couple of times. Even masochists had to do it without harming themselves, right?
So Ximo thought to look in the Handheld Suitcase for something like a sleeping potion. She could dose herself with it, which would count as completing the task. Plus, it wouldn’t harm her body— at worst, she’d enjoy a good sleep.
As she rummaged through the suitcase’s contents, fuzzy memory fragments surged in her mind again. Each familiar item vaguely recalled the scene of her packing it into the Handheld Suitcase back then.
Come to think of it, who was that mysterious woman from her dream last time, the one who told her to complete the tasks?
Just as she pondered this, Ximo found a glass bottle filled with a transparent, colorless liquid. The label on the glass bottle clearly read “sleeping potion.”
Reasonable—a sleeping potion should be this inconspicuous liquid to make it easy to slip into someone’s drink. Ximo nodded, steeling her resolve. She uncorked the bottle and took a small sip.
Hm… it didn’t seem to have any taste? Ximo smacked her lips and began hypnotizing herself.
I’d dosed myself with the drug, so this had to count as bullying myself, right?
Sure enough, not long after, Ximo felt her head growing dizzy. Was the sleeping potion taking effect? She climbed onto the bed, ready to sleep it off.
But strangely, aside from the dizziness, no sleepiness came. Instead, her dizzy head unexpectedly recalled even more memory fragments.
That ordinary leather Handheld Suitcase stood out glaringly in her memories. In them, she carefully packed various kinds of poisons and equipment into the box.
“Ximo?” A fuzzy voice came from beside her. “Did you stick the label on wrong? This bottle isn’t a sleeping potion, is it?”
A girl about her own age appeared beside her. Just like in the previous dream, Ximo still couldn’t make out the woman’s face.
“Of course not,” Ximo took the bottle of transparent liquid from her hands and placed it properly back in the box. “I stuck the wrong label on deliberately.”
“Eh?”
“I don’t want my equipment to be usable right away if someone picks it up. That way, even if something unexpected happens and it falls into enemy hands, at least it won’t be of use to them.”
“Besides, you just recognized what this was without looking at the label, didn’t you? I’m not going to lose my memory—identifying these drugs isn’t hard for us.”
…
Her tone in the memory was calm and cold, but as this memory surged into her mind, Ximo broke out in a cold sweat. She shot up from the bed with a “whoosh.”
Crap—she’d screwed herself over!
She hadn’t expected the labels on these bottles and jars to be all mixed up. How could she have been so full of little tricks like that!
This meant the stuff she’d just drunk wasn’t the sleeping potion… What if it was some kind of poison? That would be disastrous!
Ximo hurriedly rummaged through the Handheld Suitcase again. Logically, there should be antidotes in there too, but after a few flips, she stopped her injured movements.
Wait—no! The antidote labels might be mixed up too. If she drank the wrong thing again, she’d be totally done for!
Think fast—since she recalled that conversation just now, maybe she could remember which bottle the antidote was…
Ximo racked her brains in meditation. She noticed her breathing gradually quickening, her face starting to feel slightly hot… Crap, this wasn’t a poisoning symptom, was it?
No, stupid brain, think!
Ximo stared deathly at the glass bottle labeled as the sleeping potion. Moments later, she actually dredged up another memory from the depths of her mind.
“This drug has a strong effect. When using it, take one or two drops and mix into the target’s cup—don’t add too much.”
It was still that gentle woman whose face she couldn’t see clearly. She seemed to be explaining how to use this bottle of medicine… Damn it! Hadn’t she just swallowed a whole mouthful?
Ximo panicked and stood up. Only then did she realize she could barely stand steady. Everything in her vision spun dizzily, her body felt so hot, and so… itchy…
The drug’s effects had kicked in. Ximo could no longer maintain clear thinking. Her eyes glazed over, she bit her lower lip, and her thighs rubbed together unconsciously.
No, her body was so hot… She wanted it so bad… No, no!
Ximo panted heavily, trying to stay clear-headed, but she felt an evil fire burning relentlessly in her heart, setting her whole body ablaze with desire.
She subconsciously pushed open the door and stumbled out of the room. She wanted to find some water to drink—her body was too hot, unbearably so.
Instinct had replaced consciousness as the driver of her body. Ximo wandered in a daze, unsure how long she walked. When she came back to herself, she was at Xiliya’s room door.
Eh? Weird, wasn’t I going to find water? How did I end up here…
Xiliya’s figure appeared in her mind, quickly occupying all her thoughts.
Strange, why was she thinking of Xiliya at a time like this? Why did she want so badly… to see Xiliya right now?
Ximo subconsciously pushed open the door and walked in. Xiliya naturally wasn’t in the room right now— she was probably still outside clashing with Masha.
Ximo stumbled and sat on the bed. Xiliya’s lingering body scent on the spacious bed made it even harder for her to keep her thoughts clear.
Various images of Xiliya kept appearing in her mind, the most frequent being… how Xiliya had looked when punishing her before.
