The violent energy subsided. Halie lowered her arm, her eyes taking in the devastation. The lab was a wreck, precision instruments shattered across the floor.

Coleman stood like a cornered wolf, his hands braced on a cracked metal workbench, his chest heaving. His knuckles were white from the force of his grip.

He slowly lifted his head. When he saw it was her-Halie-the rage in his silver-gray eyes was instantly replaced by a thick, choking wave of disgust and disbelief.

A hoarse, grating laugh escaped his throat, the sound of sandpaper on glass.

He started toward her, one slow step at a time. The pressure of his S-Class spiritual power descended on her like a physical weight, forcing her knees to tremble.

Halie gritted her teeth against the crushing pain in her bones. She bit her lip, straightened her spine, and met his murderous gaze without flinching.

He stopped just half a step away, towering over her. He sneered, his voice laced with mockery. "Well, well. Look what the storm dragged in. To what do I owe the honor, Your Highness? Have you come to slum it with the rats in the Southern District?"

Her mind reeled as the original Halie's memories flooded her. She saw it clearly now: the way the former heiress had used her own spiritual power to whip this man, this genius who had been cast out by his family simply because he was sterile.

Halie didn't answer his question. She just stared at him, her gaze calm and piercing, taking in the raw pain twisting his handsome features.

Her silence was the one thing he couldn't stand. It was the same look of detached pity she used to give him, the look that said he was less than trash. It broke him.

He lunged, his hand clamping around her throat. He slammed her back against the cold metal door with a sickening thud.

Halie's vision swam as her lungs screamed for air. Her hands clawed at his wrist, but his arm, though trembling violently, was like iron.

With his free hand, he ripped open the front of his coarse shirt. The sound of tearing fabric was unnaturally loud in the silent room.

The shirt fell away, revealing a back crisscrossed with old, faded scars. Whip marks. Every single one a masterpiece of the original Halie's cruelty.

He released her throat and staggered back a step. Then, he did something she never could have predicted.

He fell.

He dropped to his knees on the floor, on the carpet of shattered glass. The shards bit into his flesh, and blood began to seep through his trousers, but he didn't seem to feel it. He just tilted his head back, his expression a mask of utter despair and humiliation, and looked up at her.

"Is this what you came to see?" he choked out, his voice trembling. "The final joke? The sterile waste, finally broken?"

Each word was a fresh wave of uncontrolled spiritual energy. The lights overhead flickered violently, hissing with stray electricity.

Halie pushed herself off the door. Ignoring the stinging in her throat, she took a step forward. Her eyes darted across the floor, her sharp mind calculating the safest path. She carefully cleared a small patch of the shattered glass with the side of her boot before she knelt directly in front of him, feeling the sharp edges of the remaining shards press dangerously close to her knees through her cargo pants, a stark reminder of the physical reality of this chaotic moment.

She reached out, her hands ignoring the cutting aura of his chaotic energy, and cupped his cold, sweat-drenched face.

Coleman flinched, a primal instinct to pull away. But her palms were warm. A warmth he had craved his entire life but had never been given.

Halie looked directly into his unfocused silver eyes. She gathered all her strength and spoke a single, clear, and steady phrase.

"I'm sorry."

The words hung in the air. His body went rigid. The collapse of his spiritual sea paused for a fraction of a second.

It was all the time she needed.

Halie closed her eyes, leaned forward, and pressed her lips firmly against his.

The moment their lips met, Halie tasted blood and despair. His lips were cold, cracked, and dry.

Coleman's eyes widened, his pupils dilating in shock. His body, stiff as a board, tried to recoil, to escape the impossible contact.

Halie felt his retreat. Her hands slid from his cheeks to the back of his neck, her fingers digging in, holding him in place. He would not run from this.

She focused her mind, drawing on the pathetic dregs of her D-Class spiritual power. She channeled it into a faint but steady stream of warmth, forcing it from her lips into his.

That tiny thread of energy was like a single drop of rain on a parched desert. It touched the edge of his dry, cracked spiritual sea.

A muffled groan escaped Coleman's throat. His iron-tense muscles began to tremble uncontrollably under her touch.

His own S-Class power, wild and untamed, latched onto her like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. Invisible tendrils of energy wrapped around her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

She didn't pull back. Instead, she parted her lips slightly, deepening the kiss.

Coleman's sanity, teetering on the brink of oblivion, was yanked back. He tasted the sweetness in her mouth, a female's soothing presence he had only ever dreamed of.

His hands, which had been hanging limp at his sides, shot up and grabbed the hem of her hoodie, his grip so tight the fabric threatened to tear.

The lab's red emergency lights flickered on, bathing them in a dangerous, intimate glow.

Target's spiritual collapse has been halted, the system reported in her mind. But his state remains highly unstable. Further intervention is required.

She communicated with the system, using the points from her newbie gift package to redeem a vial of primary spiritual stabilization potion. Instead of materializing out of thin air, she felt a subtle spatial distortion at her wrist where the Möbius strip tattoo rested. The system had routed the synthesized potion directly from the storage cache of her personal laboratory space. A small, glowing blue test tube slipped silently into her right hand, hidden from his view by the bulk of his body.

Halie bit the inside of her own tongue. The sharp, coppery taste of her blood spread between their lips. The sudden stimulus made Coleman's mouth part slightly.

That was her chance. Her fingers expertly uncorked the vial, and she flicked the single drop of blue liquid into his mouth.

The potion dissolved instantly, a powerful, cool current that shot directly into the raging storm of his spiritual sea.

Coleman's eyes flew open. He shoved her away, clutching his chest and gasping for breath, his gaze filled with terror and suspicion.

He thought she had poisoned him. A bitter, desperate smile touched his lips, but then he felt it. The agony inside him was miraculously fading.

His spiritual sea, which had felt like it was being torn apart by knives, was now being enveloped by a soft, blue membrane. It was calm.

He looked at his own hands in disbelief. The S-Class power was his again, under his control, and more stable than it had ever been.

He snapped his head up, his eyes locking onto Halie, who was now sitting on the floor amid the broken glass. "What... what did you give me?" he stammered, his voice shaking with shock.

Halie wiped a smear of blood from her lips. She didn't answer him directly. She just stood up, brushed the dust from her pants, and looked down at him.

Her voice was confident, seductive, and absolute. "From this day on, your life is mine. I can not only fix your spiritual power, I can cure your sterility."

The word sterile was a direct hit to his most sensitive nerve. He shot to his feet, his tall frame casting a shadow over her.

A sick, crazed light entered his eyes. He grabbed her wrist, pinning her against the workbench. "Are you playing with me again?" he hissed.

Halie met his gaze without fear. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down until they were eye to eye.

"If I can't do it," she promised, her voice a low growl, "you can tear me apart. But if I can, you will become my most loyal mate."

Coleman stared into her eyes, searching for the lies, the deceit he was so used to. But all he found was a clarity and ambition he had never seen before. The fortress of self-hatred he had built around his heart for years finally cracked.

His throat worked, but no words came out. He didn't push her away. Instead, he lowered his head, and like a dying man in the desert finding an oasis, he kissed her again, this time with a desperate, pleading reverence.

This kiss was different. It started as a plea but quickly became a desperate, possessive claiming. He was trying to devour her, to absorb her very essence into himself.

Halie's back was pressed against the hard, cold edge of the workbench, his body a wall of muscle caging her in. The clean, sharp scent of cedar from his skin filled her senses.

After a full minute, her lungs burned for oxygen. She placed a hand on his chest, trying to create some space.

Coleman felt her resistance and froze. A flicker of hurt, of raw panic, flashed in his eyes.

He immediately let go, stumbling back two large steps. He looked like a guilty child, his head bowed, unable to meet her gaze.

Halie took a deep, shuddering breath. She looked at the man before her-a ferocious wolf one moment, a submissive dog the next-and sighed internally.

She didn't scold him. Instead, she ran her tongue over her lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and tasted the lingering trace of their kiss. "Your technique is a little rough," she murmured, her voice lazy and teasing.

A deep red blush crept up Coleman's neck and ears. Her casual critique gave his shattered ego a strange, illicit thrill. He risked a glance at her from under his lashes.

Halie walked over to an undamaged sink, turned on the faucet, and washed the dust and blood from her hands with practiced calm.

As she dried them, she checked Coleman's status on the system interface. His favorability rating had shot up from the negatives to a delicate positive number.

She turned back to him, all business. "I need full access to the institute and a private cultivation lab."

Coleman stared at her, stunned. He had expected her to demand a bond, or some other humiliating price. But she wanted a lab?

The light in his eyes dimmed. A bitter taste filled his mouth. "So that's it," he said, his voice hollow. "You're just using me to get a foothold in the Southern District. You don't care about me at all."

Halie rolled her eyes internally. This man's insecurity was a terminal illness. It required shock therapy.

She let out a cold laugh, deliberately aiming for his weak spot. "If it wasn't to cure your sterility, do you really think I'd waste my time in this shithole?"

Coleman flinched as if struck. The word sterility was a fresh stab of pain. He clenched his fists, his voice tight with anguish.

"And what if you can't?" he asked, his voice raw. "What if I'm a waste forever? A male who can never give a female a child? Will you throw me away again, just like you did before?"

As his emotions spiraled, the newly calmed spiritual energy in the lab began to churn. Metal instruments on the shelves started to hum.

Halie knew the time was right. She didn't offer soft words or gentle comfort. She strode toward him and grabbed the front of his open shirt.

She yanked him down, forcing him to look her in the eye. Her voice was fierce, a snarl. "Don't you dare use that pathetic excuse to push me away."

She raised her voice, her declaration echoing in the sterile room. "Even if you are a waste, you're the man I, Halie Avila, have chosen. No one gets to judge you but me."

The words, brutal and possessive, were a hammer blow that shattered the last of his defenses.

His eyes reddened. He stared at her, trying to see into her soul, to find any trace of a lie.

Halie met his gaze without wavering. Her eyes were clear, firm, and held no pity, no disgust.

Suddenly, his arms shot out and pulled her into a crushing embrace. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body trembling.

"If you're lying to me," he whispered, his voice shaking, "I'll drag you to hell with me when I die."

Halie wrapped her arms around his broad back, patting him gently. She smiled and accepted his insane, pathological vow.

A crisp chime sounded in her mind. Congratulations, Host. A preliminary bond with target Coleman has been successfully established.

As the bond formed, a golden light flashed across her vision. The system had delivered its first reward.

Primary Plant Catalysis Ability Trial Card.

Halie felt a strange, new power surge through her veins. A confident smile played on her lips. She finally had her first real weapon in this world.