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.

Halie was still savoring the feeling of her new ability when the lab's battered metal door was shoved open with a violent crash.

Harsh light from the hallway flooded the dim room, shattering the fragile moment of peace.

A red-haired woman in a tight-fitting researcher's uniform, Brenda Vance, stormed in, her heels clicking angrily on the concrete floor.

Coleman's expression turned to ice. He instinctively pulled Halie behind him, shielding her with his body.

Brenda's eyes took in the wrecked lab, Coleman's disheveled state, and the woman he was so fiercely protecting. A fire of pure jealousy ignited in her eyes.

She was a senior researcher at the institute and had been trying to seduce Coleman for months, only to be rejected every time. Seeing another female here, in his private space, made her lose all control.

She pointed a trembling finger at Halie. "Coleman, what is this trash doing here?" she shrieked, her voice sharp and ugly. "Why would you let this scarred-up freak dirty your lab?"

Brenda deliberately shouted out Halie's shame for the whole hallway to hear. "She was kicked out by the Avila family! Her spiritual power is D-Class! She's nothing!"

Coleman's face darkened, his S-Class spiritual pressure beginning to gather like a storm. He was ready to kill the woman who dared to insult Halie.

But Halie placed a gentle hand on his back, a silent command to stand down. She then stepped out from behind him, calm and composed.

She didn't try to hide the scars on her face. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly, her eyes raking over Brenda with the kind of look one gives to a piece of garbage.

Brenda was momentarily stunned by her sheer audacity but quickly recovered. "You're just a washed-up whore who couldn't even keep her fiancé!" she spat.

The words had barely left her mouth when Halie moved. She crossed the distance between them in a blur of motion.

SLAP!

The sound was sharp and vicious. The force of the blow sent Brenda spinning halfway around.

She cried out, clutching her rapidly swelling cheek. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she stared at Halie in disbelief.

A few guards and other researchers, drawn by the commotion, poked their heads in, their eyes wide with shock.

Halie pulled a tissue from her pocket and delicately wiped her hand, as if she had just touched something filthy.

She scanned the crowd of onlookers in the doorway. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority that reached every ear.

"Coleman is my man," she announced. "From this day on, anyone who disrespects him is making an enemy of me, Halie Avila."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. They couldn't believe a D-Class cripple had the nerve to be so arrogant in the Southern District.

Brenda scrambled to her feet, her face contorted with rage. "You're insane!" she screamed. "He's a sterile waste! Only a blind woman would want him!"

Coleman's hands, hanging at his sides, clenched into tight fists. The public humiliation of his condition was a fresh wound.

Halie's eyes turned to ice. She struck again, another slap, this one sending Brenda sprawling to the floor, one of her high heels flying off.

"And you couldn't even seduce the 'waste' you're talking about," Halie sneered, looking down at her. "That makes you even more worthless than him."

Brenda was speechless. She could only sit on the floor and sob, her dignity in tatters.

Halie knew she had to do more. She had to shatter Coleman's self-hatred and declare her ownership to the world. She turned to where he stood, frozen.

In front of everyone, she grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him down, and stood on her toes.

She kissed him. A deep, possessive kiss that left no room for doubt.

Coleman's mind went blank, then flooded with a tidal wave of joy and profound gratitude. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against him and returning the kiss with equal fire.

The onlookers were stunned into absolute silence, their minds reeling from the raw, shocking display of dominance and affection.