Lisa dozed off in Veil's arms and slept all the way until evening, only jolted awake by the sudden ring of her phone.
She rubbed her sleepy eyes, disoriented, and when she saw Veil lying on the bed beside her, looking at her quietly, she instinctively lowered her head in embarrassment.
All that earlier aggressiveness had melted away.
Now, facing Veil again, she couldn't help but feel a strange, unshakable sense of humility.
"You're not answering that?" Veil asked, glancing toward her bag on the floor, his tone tinged with amusement.
Lisa muttered softly, "It's a company dinner. Just some banquet thing... I was supposed to go, but now I don't want to go anywhere at all."
Her mind had long since drifted away from such meaningless obligations. Networking, schmoozing with higher-ups—what did any of that matter anymore?
All she wanted now was to stay here with Veil.
Veil's stomach grumbled, and he gave a faint chuckle. "It's almost dinner time, you know. Don't you think you should spare a thought for me?"
Alice was busy tonight and wouldn't be home until late. Otherwise, there was no way Veil and Lisa would've been stuck together this long.
As the saying went—humans are made of iron, food is steel. Skip a meal, and even the strongest will go down.
Lisa trembled slightly, pulling her shoulders in and muttering, "If you agree to one request… I'll cook for you. Is that okay?"
"A request?" Veil exhaled a puff of smoke, not sounding particularly thrilled.
Was he really that easy to win over? So easy that Lisa was already bold enough to start making demands?
Lisa lowered her head, voice as soft as a whisper. "Just… kiss me. Just one kiss, alright?"
From morning until now, Veil hadn't even touched her cheek. No matter how strong she acted on the outside, there was still a subtle ache in her heart. A girl still longed for affection, didn't she?
Smack!
Veil leaned over and planted a light kiss on her cheek.
Lisa got up, saying she'd take a quick shower before cooking.
Afterwards, she stepped into the bathroom, then made her way into the kitchen. She was still a little clumsy, following a recipe on her phone, humming softly as she tried her hand at cooking.
She fumbled around for quite a while before finally putting together a few simple home-style dishes.
They weren't anything spectacular, but they were at least edible—unlike those airheaded heroines in cliché novels who nearly blew up the kitchen or set the house on fire.
Lisa wasn't like that.
Even if she'd never really cooked before, a smart girl like her—who was willing to learn—wasn't going to mess things up too badly.
Besides, she'd helped her mother in the kitchen a few times when she was younger.
She made a little vow to herself: whenever she had time, she'd cook a bit more at home. Her mother always used to say, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
Lisa wasn't there yet—but her mom definitely was!
And if things worked out, once her mom's health improved, she could come to Veyport City for a break—and Lisa could learn from her then.
"You should have some soup. You look a little pale," Lisa said, bringing over a bowl and setting it in front of Veil.
He took a sip, tasting it carefully. Lisa stood by his side, eyes fixed on him. The moment she saw him swallow, she quickly asked, "How does it taste? Is it too salty? Too bland? If it's salty, I can add water and simmer it again. If it's bland, I'll throw in more salt."
"It's fine. Pretty decent, actually," Veil replied with an indifferent shrug. "You're not a chef. Don't stress over it."
"But I want to know what kind of flavors you like," Lisa said, dragging a chair over and sitting down beside him. She started loading his bowl with more food while resting her chin in her palm. "It's not like this is the only time I'm going to cook for you. Try each dish—I'll improve anything you don't like next time."
Veil felt a little unnerved by how intently she was watching him.
She was acting like… a wife already.
Not that it was a bad feeling.
No matter who you were, it always felt good to be cared for like this.
Lisa scooted her chair closer to him, wanting to shrink the distance between them, but ended up bumping her shin against the leg of the table, hissing in pain.
Veil pretended not to care, but he still took out a marrow cleansing pill and slipped it into her mouth.
Lisa swallowed it, then looked at him suspiciously. "What kind of candy was that? It's sweet." A moment later, she began to feel warm all over, and beads of dark, murky sweat began seeping from her pores.
Veil sipped some soup and casually explained, "A kind of medicine. Better than beauty pills. It helps improve your constitution. With the way you are now—if we wait until I've fully recovered—you think you'd be able to handle it?"
Hearing that, Lisa's eyes shimmered with a faint mist.
His words were cold, but the meaning behind them warmed her deeply.
She could feel just how rare and precious that pill was—and she'd been right to gamble everything on today.
After dinner, under Veil's quiet threats, Lisa—worried she might embarrass herself in front of him due to the medicine's effects—quickly called her assistant and headed home.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the air thickened with a faint sense of dread. That ominous feeling crept back up Veil's spine.
Unhurried, he made his way to the storage room, fetched a hook, and returned to his bedroom.
Standing on the desk, he drove the hook straight into the ceiling with sheer force.
Here's the translated scene, smoothly written and expressive in a natural long-form English narrative, keeping your style and tone intact:
---
Late at night, the bedroom door creaked open—it had been forced from the outside.
Blood Mandala stepped into the room, once again dressed in her signature assassin attire, dark and sleek as a shadow.
But this time, there was no dummy under the covers to fool her.
Veil sat propped up against the headboard, an easy, lazy smile playing on his lips as he looked at her graceful silhouette.
"You're here."
For reasons she couldn't explain—even though she'd come seeking revenge—Blood Mandala felt a strange, almost involuntary urge to respond with a soft "Mm."
Before she could act, Veil tilted his head and asked curiously, "Do assassins not use windows anymore? Why always the front door?"
Her face frosted over instantly. That window was bulletproof and custom-made. Did he think she didn't know what she was doing? It could withstand a full burst from a submachine gun. And even if she somehow got her hands on one, using it would be suicide—the noise would blow the whole operation. She was an assassin, not a gunner on a battlefield.
"Come on, get changed." Veil casually tossed an outfit at her from under the covers.
She caught it mid-air, fury twisting her expression. "Veil, you deserve to die!"
Veil rolled his eyes. "Whether I do or not, what's that got to do with you? Can you even beat me? I already noticed you were coming and you're still standing there yelling threats?"
He shrugged lazily. "I'll give you a shot. Put that on. I'll even let you have one of my arms."
"You serious?" She looked down at the outfit—it covered barely anything. But if it meant reducing his fighting capability, she wasn't about to complain. At this point, modesty was the least of her concerns.
"You have my word. Now move."
Grinding her teeth, she stormed out. Moments later, she returned, dressed in the tight black leather Veil had picked out. It clung to her curves, outlining every detail.
Without warning, Veil moved. He swept her legs from under her, and in a blink, she was on the floor, her arm twisted behind her back, his knee pinning her down.
"Surrender?" he asked, like he was asking about the weather.
Blood Mandala trembled with rage. "No way! That was an ambush!"
"Ambush?" Veil nearly laughed. "You're an assassin. Surprise attacks are your whole shtick. And now you're upset I didn't fight fair? Since when did I say anything about being fair?"
He smirked. "Besides, I'm still only using one arm. I kept my promise."
"Let me go and fight me properly!" she yelled, voice echoing through the room as she struggled against the floor.
Veil sighed in mock frustration. "Why would I do that? I'm not stupid. One arm is plenty."
In one fluid motion, he tied her up, calm and practiced.
"I give up! I surrender! Let me go! I won't come back tomorrow night!" Her voice cracked, for the first time carrying a note of desperation.
"Scared now?" Veil patted her smooth cheek gently. "Too late."
She bit her lip, forcing herself to murmur a low, reluctant "Mm…"
"Finally realized you're out of your league?"
"…Yes."
Veil hoisted her up and strung her from the ceiling with casual ease.
"I was wrong! I know I was wrong! Let me down, please!" she begged, her pride finally cracking beneath the humiliation.
Even if she were to die, she didn't want to be degraded like this.
"Scared now?" Veil's voice was cold. "Too late."
She twisted and writhed, but his bindings were flawless. She was completely helpless.
"Veil! I'll kill you!" she howled. "If I don't kill you next time, I'll slice you into a thousand pieces!" "I'll eat your flesh! Drink your blood! This is a blood feud!"
Her screams were feral, like a cornered beast.
Good thing the room was soundproofed. To anyone outside, it would've sounded like a murder scene.
Veil turned off the lights calmly, summoned a pair of earbuds from the system inventory, and lay down with soft music playing in his ears.
He wasn't doing this for fun.
Truthfully, Blood Mandala's strength impressed him. She was a rare talent worth grooming.
As a genius doctor, Veil saw it as his responsibility to help her overcome her androphobia—her deep-seated hatred of men. And to tame someone like her, you had to break down their pride first.
After all, she was ranked third on the global assassin leaderboard. Someone like that could be invaluable for handling covert missions.
---
The next morning, Blood Mandala was finally released.
She staggered to her feet, limbs sore, leaning against the wall for support as she made her way out.
Just before crossing the threshold, she turned and gave Veil a look so frigid it seemed to freeze the very air around her. Her killing intent was nearly palpable.
Over the next few days, Veil had little to do. He occasionally brainstormed how to undermine the so-called chosen ones of fate. Sometimes he'd pull all-nighters helping Julia with homework or discuss business strategies with Jodie.
And at night—well, things were far from quiet.
The patient known as Blood Mandala, stricken with a most peculiar condition, continued to show up seeking treatment.