Chapter 678: Public Reserves

If cuteness was a poison, then Irene was the fragile toxin in a tube. Any second, when you're least suspecting, you just get hit with a dangerous dose that was like jet fuel to the steeliest of hearts.

It's just how she presents herself all the time, always gotta be so stern, so strict and that's all you expect to see and hear from her, until like a quiet hiss in the ventilations, you feel the poison start to seep. Then all of a sudden she's acting timid, muttering meek… and before you know it—suddenly you're blushing too.

Irene cleared her throat, turning her heels in a seemingly random direction, wandering just for the sake of wandering, with me closely following suit. One perk about having such prominent of a presence as hers, people just automatically get out of the way for you and indeed there she was parting the crowds like a sexy Moses to an anthropomorphized red sea.