"Is it only my sister who can do this?"

A soft voice sounded, and Louis instinctively met her gaze.

The young girl's eyes were full of confusion and trouble, she was charmingly cute, yet deep within those confused eyes lay a hidden sadness.

Louis hesitated for a moment and gently tousled her hair:

"Stop fooling around, when did I ever say I didn't like you?"

"So, you do like me?"

"...Yes, so don't be sad."

"This is the first time you've told me this." Olivia's face blossomed into a radiant smile, "Too bad it's only in a dream."

Louis lightly pecked her lips. Olivia struggled for a moment, slowly parting after a long while:

"Next time, say it to me like this in reality."

"Hmm."

He lowered his head again, indulging in the soft texture of the little swan.

But moments later, his movements froze instantly.

The slight sting and cold sensation on his neck sent chills through his body.

"What are you doing?"

A sultry voice called out.

Accompanied by a gentle shove, his body retreated half a step.

Looking again, beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

Alice was holding a curved blade, looking at him with a dubious smile:

"I don't recall agreeing to let you do such a thing to me."

The cold murderous intent in her eyes showed no sign of dissipating, the insidious smile made the bright woman exude an indescribable scent of death.

Louis raised an eyebrow and, without hesitation, raised his hand and said:

"Captain, I surrender, I'm not interested in you."

How was he supposed to know that the little swan he had been holding just now suddenly turned into this she-devil?

Alice raised her eyebrow, suddenly performed a leg split, and leaned on Louis's shoulder.

"Really not interested?"

Louis obediently spread his hands saying, "Captain, you know me, I'm married."

"The first time you saw me, you didn't have that expression."

"I can distinguish between mere physical attraction and the infinite preference within my heart."

As Louis said this, his tone had no fluctuation, as if he were talking about having 'eaten'.

Alice sighed, speechless: "Alright, you pass."

Louis rubbed his chin with his fingers, a bit puzzled about the situation?

Dreaming?

Should be.

The familiar feeling always reminded him of the experience when he sneaked into Rogen teacher's dream before.

As a close kin to succubi, nightmares have a strong control over dreams.

Although succubi cannot exploit this ability due to their skill tree direction being completely different, they can still feel it a bit.

But if you say this is purely a dream, it doesn't seem entirely right either.

The racial talent of the succubi allows him to clearly feel the emotions conveyed by the people within the dream.

The emotions are so real that he can't distinguish between dream and reality.

Beatrice's deep but calm affection.

Olivia's dragonfly-like ripples that continue to rise but gradually settle into silent self-restraint.

Alice's wild yet unconstrained personality.

All of this coincides with his understanding of the three women in reality.

Most importantly, the racial talent of the succubi was telling him that everything he had seen before was true.

But he's not a fool.

Doesn't he know what's real?

It's just a dream.

If anything was special, it was the fact that the entity imposing the dream had surpassed the limits that the succubi's racial talent could perceive, otherwise, such an error wouldn't occur.

"It's time to wake up, Louis."

He began to suggest to himself.

The simplest way to break through a dream is to realize you're dreaming, and he had already achieved that.

However, at this point, he suddenly felt a warm touch covering his lips.

"Mr. Caesar, do you really want to wake from the dream like this?"

A soft voice echoed.

Louis raised his head in shock.

Grace knelt on the floor, looking up as if watching him.

Unlike the candidate Saintess he knew in daily life.

In the dream, her attire had increasingly resembled the Libra Saintess from his previous life.

"No, Grace, what are you doing here?"

Louis could only feel his scalp tingling.

He was sure this dream was not generated based on a criterion of 'which women Louis had once desired.'

Because Grace's outfit only invoked PTSD in him. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Though now his relationship with Grace is quite good, he basically treats her as a sister, hardly seeing her as a woman.

It's no joke.

Although he no longer harbors much resentment, it was ultimately the Libra Saintess who bade him farewell in his previous life, to say he wasn't affected at all would be to claim he had become a saint.

Having sentiments is normal, but when goodwill outweighs malice, his approach to Grace naturally leans towards kindness.

But at least he's certain of one thing, he harbors no desires for Grace.

Though he complained about "white hair and red eyes" being a stereotype for his countrymen when he was pressed down on the guillotine, but those thoughts held no real substance.

First, Grace isn't the type of woman one would immediately associate with a bed upon seeing her.

Her figure and attire are too proper, unlike Alice who instantly aligns one's thoughts with desires.

Secondly, her aura has become increasingly more noble with continuous Saintess training.

This makes him hard to harbor extraneous thoughts.

"What judgement mechanism does this dream have? How did Grace end up here?"