118 - The Butler Dismissed by the Saintess Couldn’t Possibly Be the Demon Dragon Princess

**Chapter 118: Executing the Plan** The next morning, after a night full of tiresome work, Ian reluctantly rubbed her sleepy eyes and crawled out of bed. Rising earlier than usual seemed worthwhile today, especially when she thought about how Ailia's antics with various girls would soon be exposed to her childhood friend, a famous celebrity. Ian couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "Hehehe, just imagining Ailia pleading for forgiveness from her childhood friend is thrilling," Ian muttered to herself with a mischievous grin. Her mutterings were enough to wake the still-sleeping Lilian beside her. "Mm~" Lilian stretched lazily, her delicate face still carrying traces of drowsiness. "Ian, why are you up so early? The concert isn't until tonight." "You don't get it, do you? Precisely because the concert is tonight, my plan is to sneak into the star's dressing room during the day and leave this on her table." Ian produced an envelope, scribbled in black ink with the words "Ailia's Secret Romance (You’ll Regret Not Reading)". Ian was confident that the celebrity wouldn't overlook such a tantalizing message. It's like placing evidence of infidelity in front of Acelina regarding one of her suitors; Ian was certain that Acelina, known for her harem prowess, wouldn't ignore such a scandal. By the same token, she knew Ailia's childhood friend wouldn't either. Lilian looked at Ian with concern as she reveled in her scheme, hesitated to voice her unease but ultimately swallowed her words. Lilian had learned that certain actions, once committed, are irreversible—just like when she wrested back control over her body from the silver-haired Lilian. She only hoped Ailia wouldn't make things too rough for Ian. "Just be careful on your own." Lilian was aware that Ailia wouldn't actually harm Ian, perhaps just embarrass her at most. "Don't worry, when I'm on the case, nothing's unsolvable," Ian proclaimed with confidence. The concert venue was located in the artistic district at the heart of the Holy City, and Ian spent an hour walking there. She was immediately struck by the massive structure capable of hosting tens of thousands. Standing before it, Ian felt as insignificant as an ant. "I can't believe a building like this existed five hundred years ago," Ian mused. Even the largest building at the Saint Roland School of Magic in the entire continent paled in comparison to this concert hall. Ian slowly approached the venue. Most of the setup was complete, with only a few staff members making final adjustments to prevent any mishaps during the night's concert. Wearing a hat and a black cloth over her face, Ian believed nobody could recognize her—she herself struggled to identify her reflection. Clandestinely moving within the staff’s blind spots, Ian stuck to the walls. Sweat beaded on her forehead and hands as she'd never attempted anything like this before. "Doing all this sneaky stuff is really pushing my limits," Ian muttered as she wiped her sweaty brow, her nerves on edge. But the thought of Ailia being placed in an awkward situation because of her actions made a mischievous smile curl her lips. "The security office is on the right, the dressing room on the left," Ian noted, her expression smug. She couldn't help but praise her own skill—sneaking in this long without being spotted seemed nothing short of talent. "Seems I have a natural talent for stealth missions," Ian boasted. Just then, a few equally stealthy figures emerged from the right. Ian quickly pressed herself against the cold wall. Dressed in staff uniforms but wearing similar face-covering disguises, they carried suspicious black bags, looking nothing like legitimate workers. "Damn, do I have competition?" Ian narrowed her eyes, observing the group as they disappeared down another corridor. She hesitated but then decided her carefully crafted revenge plan was more pressing than those dubious people. "Besides, there's security around. What could I do about it?" "And if I reported them, wouldn't my whole sneaking-in operation blow up in my face?" Ian reasoned, dismissing the shadowy figures. Armed with both intel and the maps scattered around, Ian soon found herself before the dressing room door. The door bore the bold label: Dressing Room. "This is it," Ian's heart fluttered as she pulled out a wire. That's right; Ian had learned lock-picking skills. No lock, no matter how secure, could defy her nimble wire. But as she inserted the wire and began to work the lock, she discovered it wasn't necessary—the door was unlocked, rendering her skills useless. "They didn't even lock the door. How careless. Let me just close it after I'm done." "But first, let me take a look inside," Ian muttered, playing out her own monologue despite being alone, a futile attempt to ease her guilt. Carefully, she pushed the door open and found the interior far more luxurious than she'd imagined. Velvet sofas, a crystal chandelier, an entire wall of mirrors, with cosmetics and fruit baskets on the table as if someone had been entertained there not long ago. "Hehe, whoever was here earlier won't impede my plan." "All I have to do is leave this on the table." Ian produced the envelope marked with "Ailia's Secret Romance (You’ll Regret Not Reading)" and grinned mischievously. But just as she marveled at how smoothly her plan was going, a sickly-sweet voice sounded behind her. "My dear Ian, what brings you here so early?" "Yes, actually there is something," Ian replied absentmindedly, engrossed in her plan and oblivious to her discovery. "This time, Ailia’s going to pay. She'll learn I’m not to be trifled with!" "Oh? Did Ailia offend you somehow, warranting such vengeance?" "You don’t know, she's rotten. I asked her for help before and she just watched me struggle." As Ian talked, she suddenly realized she was supposed to be sneaking in alone. Who, then, could be speaking to her?