Honkai Impact: My Power Grows When Valkyries Fall For Me — Chapter 84

Chapter 84: Mei, Since When Were You a Succubus?

The room was larger than he had imagined. It was a spacious, modern suite, clearly arranged by Schicksal. A massive, soft bed sat in the center, draped in pristine white linens that looked cool to the touch.

A sleek desk was positioned by the window, holding a minimalist lamp and a few complimentary drinks, with a small, comfortable-looking sofa creating a cozy sitting area nearby. The en-suite bathroom was a study in luxury, featuring a separate wet and dry area and a bathtub that looked easily large enough to fit two people. Beyond the main room, a small balcony was visible through a sliding glass door, offering a glimpse of the city at night.

Lucian walked to the window, his fingers tracing the cool metal of the frame before he slid the glass door open and stepped out into the night.

A crisp, cool breeze immediately greeted him, tousling the stray hairs on his forehead. The distant city was a stunning panorama of light, a brilliant, glittering sea that pushed back against the encroaching darkness. He leaned against the railing, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of the room behind him, and gazed out at the unfamiliar skyline. It was beautiful. He couldn’t help but pull out his phone and snap a photo.

Opening Homu Chat, he saw the app was still displaying Far East time. It was currently five in the morning there.

Lucian stared at the time on his phone, a brief moment of disorientation washing over him. Five in the morning… that meant Mei, Kiana, and the others were almost certainly still asleep.

He handled to his photo album and looked at the picture he had just taken. The distant coastline was a faint, dark line against the inky blackness of the sea, where the city lights stretched out in long, shimmering bands of gold and silver.

He decided to send it to Mei anyway.

【Lucian: [Image]】

【Lucian: 10 PM here in the UK. Just got to my room. Good morning to you.】

After sending the message, he opened his chats with Kiana and Bronya, sending them the same photo and explanation. With the three messages sent, Lucian slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the railing once more. The night breeze now carried the distinct, salty scent of the sea, feeling a bit colder than before.

The distant view was captivating. Lucian stared at the scenery, lost in thought, until the soft vibration of his phone in his pocket pulled him back to reality.

He retrieved it and saw a reply from Mei.

【Mei: It looks colder there than at St. Freya. Remember to dress warmly.】

【Mei: Don’t stand on the balcony for too long. It’s easy to catch a cold in the wind.】

A small, warm smile touched Lucian’s lips as he read her gentle reminders. It was five in the morning in the Far East, yet she was already awake.

Just as he was about to type a reply, his phone vibrated again.

【Mei: I just woke up and happened to see your message.】

Lucian’s smile widened. He typed out a quick response.

【Lucian: Understood. Good morning, Mei.】

Her reply came almost instantly, but it wasn’t text. It was a picture.

Lucian’s eyes widened, and for several long seconds, he simply stared at the photo, his mind going completely blank.

In the image, Mei had clearly just woken up. Her long, indigo hair was a beautiful, sleep-mussed cascade over her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing any sleepwear, only a single, crisp white shirt—likely his. The buttons were deliberately fastened only in the middle, leaving the collar wide open and the hem just barely grazing the tops of her thighs.

The soft morning light filtered in from the window behind her, rendering the thin fabric of the shirt almost translucent. The gentle curve of her chest was faintly, tantalizingly outlined against the light. Her expression was one of sleepy contentment, but her eyes held a spark of knowing mischief.

“…”

Lucian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard against a suddenly dry throat. He took a deep, steadying breath, forcing his expression back to neutral before typing out a single, accusatory line.

【Lucian: You did that on purpose.】

He sent the message, his eyes glued to the screen as he waited. A few seconds later, her reply came.

【Mei: Yes.】

【Mei: On purpose.】

【Mei: I’ll send you one every day until you come back.】

Reading those three lines, Lucian felt a wave of helpless exasperation wash over him. He was being completely and utterly played. He let out a soft sigh, but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He typed out another line.

【Lucian: Don’t get your account flagged by the moderators.】

Mei’s reply was a simple, cheeky emoji.

【Mei: (^_-)】

Lucian stared at the winking face for a few moments, the curve of his lips rising even higher. He finally pocketed his phone, let out one last, quiet sigh, and turned to walk back into the warmth of his room.

—

The next day, at 7:50 AM, Lucian finished washing up, changed his clothes, and walked out of his room.

The corridor was silent, bathed in the soft, warm glow of a few elegant wall lamps. The elevator descended smoothly to the first floor.

In the lobby, Durandal was already waiting.

Today, she had traded her usual attire for an outfit more suited for action: a pristine white shirt, dark trousers, and her long, blonde hair tied back in a neat, efficient ponytail. Seeing Lucian step out of the elevator, she gave him a slight nod.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Lucian walked up to her.

Durandal’s gaze swept over him, lingering on his face for a moment longer than necessary.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?” she asked, her tone direct and her golden eyes holding a hint of inquiry.

Lucian was startled and subconsciously raised a hand to touch the skin beneath his eyes. “No, I slept quite well.”

Durandal looked at him, her expression unchanging. After a second of silence, she stated plainly, “You have dark circles.”

Lucian: “…”

A flush of awkwardness crept up his neck. After seeing that photo last night, he had indeed tossed and turned for a long time before finally drifting off. But that was obviously not something he could explain to the Valkyrie of Schicksal.

“Maybe the jet lag hasn’t worn off yet,” he offered, grasping for a plausible excuse.

Durandal simply nodded, not pressing the matter any further. “Let’s go.”

She turned and walked toward the hotel entrance, and Lucian quickly followed.

Stepping out of the hotel, they found a black sedan already waiting at the curb. The driver’s window rolled down, revealing Rita’s ever-present, perfect smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Lucian,” she greeted warmly. “Did you rest well last night?”

Her gaze lingered on Lucian’s face for a moment, and a flicker of playful amusement danced in her wine-red eyes. “You look… a bit tired.”

Lucian’s mouth twitched.

“Jet lag, probably,” he repeated, his voice a little tight. He gave the briefest of explanations before opening the rear door and sliding inside.

Durandal got in from the other side and sat beside him.

The doors closed, and the sedan pulled away from the curb, merging smoothly into the morning traffic. The car was quiet for a few seconds before Rita’s voice drifted from the front seat, laced with a faint, musical smile.

“Jet lag, hmm…” she mused softly, her tone imbued with a deeply meaningful quality. “True, from the Far East to the UK, the time difference is about eight hours.” Her eyes met his in the rearview mirror. “But Mr. Lucian doesn’t strike me as someone who would be troubled by something as simple as jet lag.”

Those wine-red eyes were now brimming with playful knowing. He knew she must have guessed something—or, more likely, she already knew exactly what had happened. But she wouldn’t say it outright, preferring to tease him with these elegant, indirect jabs.

“Even I can lose sleep over jet lag, Miss Rita,” he said, trying to keep his tone even.

“Is that so?” Rita chuckled softly, her eyes narrowing into amused crescents in the rearview mirror. “Then I shall not inquire any further.”

She gracefully withdrew her gaze and focused on the road ahead.

The car fell silent again. Lucian turned his attention to the window, watching the unfamiliar street scenes flash by. The architecture in the UK was vastly different from the Far East—the buildings were older, the streets narrower, and the pedestrians on the roadside seemed to dress more formally.

He was staring out the window, lost in a daze, when Durandal’s voice suddenly cut through the silence from beside him.

“Have you been to the UK before?”

Lucian turned his head and met her gaze. Her golden eyes held a simple, straightforward curiosity.

“This is my first time.”

Durandal nodded once, then said nothing more. She simply sat there quietly, her gaze fixed forward, a pillar of calm professionalism.

Silence fell over the car once more, broken only by the low hum of the engine.