Before “You are so special” came along, what the Battle Angel heard far more often was “You dumbass,” “You pretentious prick,” “You bird-brained freak,” and “You miserable jerk.”

An art style like his—one that, from the very beginning, stood in stark contrast to the crude and vulgar combat cards—was bound to draw a lot of criticism. As he racked up victory after victory, the voices of doubt gradually faded, but voices that truly resonated with him were slow to emerge.

Until this very moment.

He had never seen words that so precisely described his inner state—they almost saw right through his soul, and every single word fit him perfectly. At that moment, whether Tang Mian’s earlier edge-walking remarks had been intentional or accidental no longer mattered.

More importantly, through those clear, beautiful, adorable, and captivating eyes, Tang Mian saw his melancholy and loneliness.

His six wings folded into a semi-enclosed, cocoon-like space, cutting him off from the outside world and allowing the Battle Angel to immerse himself entirely in reading these words. Only the tail feathers, trembling slightly with his emotions, seemed to betray a hint of the Battle Angel’s true feelings at that moment. 

However…

“Whenever I see you, I always feel a unique sense of detachment and an atmosphere of loneliness, as if you are the one who truly understands the essence of loneliness.*”

Battle Angel: “Sweetie, I don’t think we’ve actually met that often.”

Tang Mian: “We’ve long been kindred spirits!” 

Tang Mian: “I once had the privilege of reading your card log! Not long ago, I ventured into the mist forest, and thanks to your selfless sharing of tips for clearing the dungeon in your card log.”

Isn’t “spiritual connection” a bit too suggestive?

Wait a minute. 

Battle Angel: “Sweetie, do you understand…?”

Tang Mian: “At first glance, that sentence seemed overly contrived, but considering your literary talent surely goes beyond that, such an awkward phrase must be hinting at something. So the answer is obvious—heart, forest, and mist. In the mist forest, sanity is tied to the mist!”

Battle Angel:“………. ”

Wait a minute… Does it really feel forced? This is actually his masterpiece. 

The angelic halo wobbled precariously above Battle Angel’s head a few times. “True, I wrote that too hastily that day. By the way, Baby, how long did it take you to write this passage?”

Tang Mian:“?”

Huh? Isn’t this the line from the romance card training manual for literary types? 

Tang Mian: “Archangel, you’ve misunderstood! I didn’t write this passage—I read it somewhere else.”

The Battle Angel frowned.

If not Tang Mian, then who?

This passage was clearly written by someone who had been observing him—otherwise, how could there be such a perfect fit, as if the words were tailor-made for him?

Could it be that anonymous seller at the mall who gives food items poetic names? 

Battle Angel: “Baby, where did you see that?”

Tang Mian replied tactfully, “I don’t remember either.”

If he revealed the source right now, it might seem like he was mocking Battle Angel for not paying close attention during his training as a senior.

Battle Angel’s furrowed brow relaxed.

If he couldn’t even remember the source, how could he have recited every single word of such a long passage?

Clearly, this was written by his muse, Baby. 

The reason Tang Mian refused to admit it was likely because of the final sentence:

“You want to experience endless joy, seek irrational passion, let emotions scorch your soul, and at the same time, you want that wondrous, incomprehensible love that consumes your life.”

Upon first reading, the Battle Angel found it a bit strange, because the words Tang Mian had sent described him almost perfectly, word for word—except for this part. Was his inscrutable inner world truly still impossible for anyone to fathom?

And then there’s this…

—And at the same time, you want that wondrous, incomprehensible love that consumes your very life.

—I want your love.

—I want your love.

Are these words actually Tang Mian’s confession to him, hidden in the poem? 

—“Dear Archangel, thank you for your guidance all this time. I suddenly feel so much better.”

Actually, as early as that “Dear,” everything had already been foreshadowed. 

He likes me. 

He wants to date me. The Battle Angel was certain. 

But he only saw him as my muse; he just wanted to talk to him about life, ideals, and art. 

Romance—it can’t hold me back.

The price of becoming an SSR: loneliness. 

As a top-tier battle card like me, I have no desire to experience endless joy, seek irrational passion, or pursue wondrous yet incomprehensible love. Melancholy, loneliness, and art—these are the main themes of my soul.

Ah, loneliness. Ah, the mortal world. Ah, Muse. Ah, love. 

The Battle Angel once again sank into a faint melancholy.

【Battle Angel has left】 

Tang Mian: “?” Why did he leave again? Is he going to pay me back? 

“Your Majesty! Please approve 500,000 in funding for me right now!” The Horned Demon hunched over, his hands clasped in front of him, his ten withered fingers fidgeting restlessly as if rubbing invisible gold coins between them. 

The Demon King held a parchment titled “Boss’s Special Assistant’s Office Renovation Order” and wondered if he’d misheard: “How much? It wasn’t this price before, was it?”

Upon hearing this, the Horned Demon lifted his wrinkled, weathered face, every crease seeming to bear the weight of grievance and toil: “Your Majesty, please allow me to explain in detail. Normally, renovating an office wouldn’t cost this much, but this is a special case!”

“You told me this office would be needed tomorrow, so I stayed up all day and dragged those craftsmen straight out of the Abyss. But those craftsmen were asking for an exorbitant price—they insisted I pay four times the normal wage as a rush fee! Thankfully, thanks to my silver tongue, I managed to negotiate it down to three times the normal wage!”

As he spoke, he kept a close eye on the Demon King’s expression.

The Demon King, who was usually so easy to placate, now had a stony expression, his crimson eyes seeming to be deep in thought.

“Then, Your Majesty, you said that everything in the boss’s assistant’s office had to be the very best, so I followed the same specifications used when we renovated your office all those years ago. Just look at the records on this parchment! I’ve clearly listed every single piece of building material, piece of furniture, and office supply added to the office!”

The Demon King narrowed his eyes and read three lines of text, only to feel a headache coming on. A searing demonic aura spread unconsciously along with his irritation, causing the horned demon—who had been speaking faster and faster, his voice sounding like a boiling kettle—to fall silent. 

Beads of sweat formed on the Horned Demon’s forehead, trickling down the creases of his face as his mind raced with the possibility that the Demon King had uncovered his fraudulent accounts. “If Your Majesty is dissatisfied with any part of this renovation plan, I’ll make the changes right away!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the Demon King slammed the parchment down on the table with a “thud.” The overwhelming aura of a top-tier demon, combined with the sudden jolt, startled the Horned Demon so much that his hooves trembled on the floor tiles; he nearly fell to his knees.

“I’ve always trusted you to handle matters.” The Demon King turned to his trusted assistant in the dark deck—the deck’s sole accountant, the elderly R card Kulojin, who was utterly loyal to him—and finally spoke: “Actually, this time, there’s something else I’d like to ask you.”

“Take a look at the text on this card log. Do you think the card that wrote this…doesn’t have a secret crush on me?”

Since the Battle Angel had said the player would misunderstand him—that the player didn’t understand him—the Demon King decided to ask his most loyal, capable, and intelligent subordinate.

“My~ Lord~!!!” Kulojin’s voice was shrill and high-pitched; he drew out the word “Lord” with a series of rising and falling inflections, his voice trembling with flattery. “You truly have an eagle eye! Your insight is razor-sharp! I can tell at a glance that the card who wrote these words deeply admires you, my Lord!”

After hearing this, the Demon King felt a sense of relief wash over him, and the fiery heat within him dissipated. Sure enough, he, too, felt that Tang Mian really did love him! 

“His devotion to you is just like this humble servant’s sincere loyalty to Your Majesty and the dark deck!” Kulojin tugged at his goatee, his eyes brimming with tears, speaking from the bottom of his heart.

The Demon King raised his hand: “All right, you don’t need to say the rest. You’re getting too wordy.” 

He leaned back, relaxed in his executive chair, and raised his empty wine glass; Kulojin, standing nearby, immediately picked up the decanter and filled the Demon King’s glass to the brim.

The aroma of wine filled the air, the crisis averted, and Kulojin’s eyes began to dart about. “I suppose this card log must have been written by the future boss’s wife of our dark deck, right?” 

The Demon King, who had been savoring his drink, coughed violently: “What?!”

Kulojin slapped his own face several times. “Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I’m getting senile. What I meant to say was, this must surely be the work of the newly appointed assistant to the boss, right?”

“This assistant is set to take office tomorrow. Since he’s new here, I thought we could prepare a welcome gift for him—to let him feel the warmth of our dark deck and of Your Majesty. Paired with the brand-new, high-end office that’ll be set up tomorrow, wouldn’t that completely sweep him off his feet?”

The Demon King’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, but then he began to fret: “A gift? What kind of gift should we give?”

“You don’t need to worry about such trivial matters, Your Majesty!” Kulojin said, pounding his chest. “Just allocate a budget of 200,000 to me! You can rest assured that I’ll handle it!” 

The Demon King: “Alright.”

Seeing the Demon King’s decisive attitude, Kulojin thought to himself, “This isn’t good—I’ll end up with too little.”

But this lucrative deal—with a 200,000 exchange value—still had plenty of room for profit. Even if he only skimmed half, he’d still pocket 100,000 in the spread! 

This job is great—it’s a real gem. It’s so much less of a hassle than renovating his office, purchasing weapons for the “dark deck,” or organizing team-building activities! It’s also convenient for cooking the books.

If only the Demon King would assign him the task of preparing gifts for every holiday from now on…

At that very moment, Kulojin had already become the number one shipper for the Demon King and that special assistant—whom he’d never even met.

To ensure this business could continue long-term and steadily, Kulojin eagerly asked, “Your Majesty, could you show me some information on that assistant so I can see what he likes?”

After all, every battle card has different preferences—some like daggers, others like swords—so when giving gifts, you’ve got to hit the mark just right.

The Demon King didn’t know much about Tang Mian either.

He simply tossed Tang Mian’s profile—which he’d filled out on Boss Direct Hire—to Kulojin to look at.

Kulojin, who had been chattering nonstop, fell silent for three seconds.

“…Oh my card god, he’s way, way, way too beautiful.”

Not just beautiful, but incredibly beautiful—a level of beauty this old demon had never seen in all his years. No wonder the Demon King was in such a rush to set up a nest in broad daylight; who wouldn’t be in a hurry in this situation!

With someone this beautiful, you’d better set up a nest early and keep him right under your watchful eye—you’d be afraid that in the blink of an eye, your wife would be snatched away by a rival out there!

It doesn’t matter if he’s been lured away by another card—his Great King is an SSR, so if he can’t beat them, he can just fight them and take his wife back. Of the two, only one remains…

“Great King. I have something to say, but I’m not sure if I should.”

Demon King:“??”

Demon King: “Spit it out.”

The Demon King suddenly grew alert and fierce: “You don’t happen to have a crush on Tang Mian, do you?”

Kulojin was at a loss for words: “I’m just afraid that guy from the light deck next door might be just like you, Your Majesty—getting carried away by lust and falling for our special assistant!” 

This wasn’t just Kulojin worrying needlessly. This old demon, despite his low combat value, had managed to thrive in the dark deck thanks to his keen sense of danger and vast experience. Kulojin recalled that the SSR from the light deck was into things like music, art, and photography. Although he didn’t know much about those areas himself, he figured that this “Battle Angel” must appreciate beautiful things.

Kulojin used to think that the little nest egg he’d painstakingly saved up over most of his life was the most beautiful thing he owned. But now, looking at this card named Tang Mian, he realized his hair shone brighter than gold, and his eyes were more beautiful and precious than emeralds.

Even if precious treasures are kept in a locked vault, there’s still a risk that someone might break in and steal them.

The Demon King declared, “Bullshit! Am I the kind of card player who gets carried away by looks? What I value is his ability to manage my card log!”

Kulojin readily agreed: “Right, right, right. I—I misspoke. I’m mainly worried about that guy next door—”

The dark deck is a popular deck, and when a newcomer joins, word gets around in no time—especially when it’s a newcomer who’s undeniably stunning.

The Demon King waved his hand: “You don’t need to worry about that. I showed my brother photos of Tang Mian a long time ago, and he’s not interested in him.”

Kulojin:“ ………… ?” Since when has the Great King been on such good terms with that SSR next door? Is it really okay to just show your wife’s photos to your buddies like that? 

Demon King: “Alright, there’s nothing left to do here. Hurry up and get my office set up, and pick out a nice gift for me. That’s the real business!”

Kulojin hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back, then wanting to speak again but holding back once more. For the first time, he truly understood what it meant for “honest advice to be hard to swallow” and “it’s tough being a loyal subject.” 

Seeing the Demon King’s expression—patience exhausted and clearly unwilling to listen any further—Kulojin hunched his back, his weathered face seeming to grow even more haggard. “Your Majesty, I shall take my leave.” 

The clatter of goat hooves left a desolate sound on the ground. Watching the goat demon’s retreating figure, the Demon King picked up his wine cup again and took two sips. The wine, gurgling with sulfur bubbles, burned his mouth, as if stimulating his brain as well. The Demon King smacked his lips and suddenly began to grasp the situation.

Come to think of it…

This wine does have a bit of a sweet aftertaste.