Iliya She hastily wiped away her tears and answered the incoming call. To her horror, the comm screen displayed two names that struck dread into her heart: "Father"!

She sprang up as if startled by a hawk, adjusting her appearance with lightning speed, erasing all traces of her eyes, clearing her throat, and then connecting the call, her voice dripping with honeyed softness, "Daaaddy~"

The man on the comm screen was short and stout, looking to be around forty, already balding. His face was grim now, shadowed like an impending storm. "Have you made enough of a scene?"

Iliya's face froze, tears threatening to spill again. "Dad, I wasn't making a scene."

The man thundered in cold anger, "Still arguing? What's with this suicidal devotion to that man? Making such a huge fuss over a small competition—don't you have any self-awareness about what you're doing!"

Iliya slowly retracted her tears. She had known long ago he wouldn't understand. Yet, she had held onto a sliver of hope. Now that her last shred of hope was gone, she stopped crying and spoke in a tone reserved for explaining things to a superior. "I am a student right now, and a mech competition is the highest achievement for a student. This is the best I can offer at this moment."

The man wouldn't listen at all, roaring, "No need for explanations. You did it all for that boy, didn't you!"

The colder Iliya listened, the harder it became to contain herself. She couldn't help but retort, "And what if I did!"

The man bellowed, "He should have died long ago! And you will return home by tomorrow, don't make me send people for you!!" With that, he abruptly terminated the call.

Iliya stared at the dark screen of the comm unit, a suffocating anger lodging in her chest, demanding immediate release. Why did everyone have to treat her this way? Why?! She would rather betray the world than have the world betray her; for everyone who had crossed her, she would repay them twofold!

Iliya strode out of the sickroom. The subordinate guarding the door started to follow her upon seeing her emerge, but then he noticed the frost covering her face and dared not approach, remaining rooted to his post.

The moment Iliya returned to her villa in Kaga, all her pent-up emotions erupted. She smashed whatever she could lay her hands on. The air filled with a cacophony of breaking sounds; every fragile object shattered into dust on the floor, including seven or eight crystal ornaments, all meeting their untimely demise within minutes.

A squad of eight household maids working in the villa scattered upon witnessing the scene, terrified of collateral damage. Seeing their frightened expressions only fueled Iliya’s rage, driving her to smash things even harder. In a short time, the entire room was a wreck.

She could no longer find anything sturdy enough to pick up and throw. Her anger had not subsided, but exhaustion set in. She flung her high heels aside and delivered a brutal kick to the chaise lounge, breathing heavily.

Just then, a light, crisp footstep approached. Who dared to disturb her at such a moment? Iliya was just about to lash out when she looked up and saw it was her handsome robot butler.

The Handsome One swiftly cleared the coffee table, gently setting down a glass of honey water, giving a slight nod before retreating to the side. "37°C, temperature optimal."

Having worn her armor all day, hearing those words suddenly caused Iliya's metaphorical armor to clatter to the floor. No matter how well she masked herself, she was still just a girl. She was tired. There were times she couldn't relax around humans, but she could with the robot. No matter how intelligent the robot was, it remained just a machine; it wouldn't scheme against her, wouldn't harm her, and certainly wouldn't force her to do things she disliked, like her father did.

She dropped all pretense and threw herself into the robot butler's arms, sobbing heartbrokenly.

The Handsome One remained silent, simply keeping her company as she cried and raged, even swinging her fists at him. Iliya finally vented every bit of unhappiness stored inside, and a profound sense of relief washed over her. Even if the entire world betrayed her, her robot butler remained with the same perfect smile, treating her with the utmost elegance and consideration. —For the first time, she felt immensely wise for having impulsively bought a robot butler.

She turned, sat back down on the chaise lounge, took a small sip of the honey water, and beckoned the Handsome One closer with a slight crook of her finger. The robot obediently walked before her.

Iliya tilted her face up, closed her eyes slightly, and made an inviting gesture: "Hold me..."

The Handsome One stepped forward and gently enveloped her in an embrace. Soft skin, strong arms, gentle movements—everything made Iliya feel as if a real man were holding her. This was the feeling of being cherished that she craved.

Iliya shifted slightly within his embrace, her ruby lips lightly brushing the robot’s cheek. The Handsome One offered a faint smile. "Darling, rest for a while."

Iliya, wild all day and tearful for half of it, was utterly drained. Hearing those words, she contentedly closed her eyes.

Around nine in the evening, Iliya woke up with a gnawing hunger, finding herself nestled in the bed, blankets neatly tucked around her. She was dazed for a moment before sitting up. The living room glowed with warm light, all the furniture was tidily arranged, and the floor was spotless. If not for the absence of several crystal figurines on the table, she would have thought she hadn't smashed anything at all. Whoever cleaned up was incredibly capable!

Iliya stood at her bedroom door for a moment. Hearing sounds downstairs, she descended the spiral staircase. The downstairs area was even cozier than upstairs. So cozy it made Iliya feel like she was dreaming.

"Miss, please take your seat in the dining room. Dinner is ready. What would Miss like to eat?" The robot butler’s voice sounded, bringing Iliya back to reality with a bright smile. "You’ve already prepared it. What’s the point of asking what I want now?"

The robot butler replied with deferential politeness, "Today’s menu was decided based on Miss's known preferences and what you might desire most at the end of the day. If Miss is not satisfied, you may order something else."

Iliya smiled charmingly. "I insist on seeing what you’ve made."

Walking into the dining room, the table was already laden with dishes: Lemon Soufflé, Cauliflower Bisque, Crème Brûlée, Crispy Shrimp Swords… everything she adored. She sat down, eating a little of each dish, sighing with admiration. Truly, even the best human help couldn't compare to a robot. After sampling everything, Iliya paused. "Are you a product of the Corporation? The designer is quite good." —Once she got through the next few busy days, she would definitely buy a whole series!

The Handsome One smiled faintly. "Sprout Corporation, designed by Ziye."

What the—! Iliya slammed her cutlery down. The knife in her hand shot out diagonally, flying a long distance before clattering onto the floor with a sharp sound. She fiercely gripped the fork in her other hand and stabbed it toward the robot's chest. Damn Sprout Corporation, damn Ziye, how dare they mock me? Iliya felt utterly sick. Mentioning Ziye made her think of the Chushou (Sheathed Blade), and thinking of Chushou made her think of the championship she lost. She desperately wanted to roar at the heavens: Damn it all!

Iliya’s face was contorted with malice. She kicked the robot, forcing it back two steps, and then stabbed it again with the fork, stabbing hard, stabbing relentlessly. The robot possessed defensive functions, but no function to resist its owner. In moments, Iliya had poked five or six holes in it, exposing the inner mechanisms.

Still not satisfied, Iliya dragged the robot to the doorway and threw it out. The mere thought that she had spent so long interacting with a robot designed by Ziye made her feel nauseous. She had actually let it hug her, even kissed it... Iliya felt she was going insane!

She ran into the bathroom, turned on the water, and scrubbed her entire body raw, washing away every trace of the robot’s scent.

The poor Handsome One, unit W32504, lay by the door for a long time. He slowly stuffed his severed parts back into the holes, meticulously straightened his crisp white shirt and black jacket, and stood up. Undoubtedly, to maintain muscle elasticity and realism, the robot possessed actual blood. As it rose, blood seeped out, soaking its white shirt.

A passerby noticed the gruesome scene and asked, "What happened here?" W32504 looked pitiful. "The Master discarded me."

The passerby immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. Such a handsome man, and one so devoted, wearing such fine livery—surely his owner was some kind of eccentric master? He patted W32504’s shoulder. "Don't worry. This is the Age of Law; abusing you means facing legal repercussions."

As the passerby spoke, he opened his comm and dialed a number. "Hello, is this the Human Rights Protection Association? There’s a report of someone being subjected to severe abuse here." Having enthusiastically offered help, he said, "I have other matters to attend to, I'll be going now." He launched his airship with a whoosh and quickly disappeared from sight.

W32504 stood in place for a moment. One of the Robot Codes stipulated that if abandoned by its master or lost, it could return to one location: the Robot Service Center of the Sprout Corporation.

W32504 was still searching for the location of the Sprout Corporation’s service center when the Human Rights Protection Association officers arrived in a flurry. Seeing the unit, they asked, "Someone reported you were severely abused; is that true?" W32504 considered that it did fall under the category of abuse and nodded.

The officer assured him, "Rest assured, we are here now; she won't succeed again. Come with us."

W32504 reached the door, which sensed his presence and opened, allowing him entry. The HPA officers immediately rushed in, their faces tightening when they saw the wreckage on the floor and the woman furiously smashing things. —Clearly suffering from a manic episode; no wonder she’s prone to violence. Still, this man was too meek; he allowed himself to be beaten so badly without retaliation.

Iliya saw the intrusion and coldly demanded, "What is the meaning of this?"

The HPA officers presented their credentials. "Someone has filed a complaint against you for illegally infringing upon another's human rights. Will you cooperate with our investigation?"

Iliya glanced from the officers to W32504, and only two words formed in her mind: Holy sh—! With frost still coating her face, she commanded W32504, "Come here."

W32504 submissively walked over.

The HPA officers were about to intervene but suddenly thought that perhaps watching this display would negate the need for a formal investigation, allowing them to apprehend the savage woman immediately.

This savage woman, Iliya, waited until W32504 stood before her. She drew the laser sword hanging as decoration near the living room entrance and swept it horizontally! W32504 slowly collapsed to the ground, its severed leg parts scattering across the floor... -RS