Villain Hiring: Help! Author Wants Me Dead-Chapter 97: Pixie

Ding*

I rang the bell to Noah's house.

He still lived in the studio apartment Dragneel and Mara built for themselves.

Fortunately, since the house was located in the inner circle of the estate, it was still intact. If previously we had acres of land to ourselves, after selling everything; the Romero's had shifted to living in a place only as large as a few colonies at most.

I myself had shifted to Venus's place a month back, after making sure that Noah had recovered… at least physically.

The door opened, but the figure I was expecting to see standing in front of me wasn't Noah.

…it was Pixie.

A 16-year-old girl stood before me, half yawning as she lazily opened her eyes.

My eyes twitched looking at her lithe figure, but when the girl flashed her bright smile at me, all my tensions seemed to be slip away.

'hufff,'

"Is he still asleep?" I asked the white haired 'chipmunk' standing in front of me.

Pixie blinked up at me, still half-asleep, before stretching her arms with a dramatic yawn.

Her white hair, wild and untamed from sleep, held her small but pointy face, and her sharp black eyes, so full of life despite the early hour—studied me with curiosity.

Then, as if a switch had flipped, she grinned widely, her usual energy returning in full force.

"Grandma Sylvie!" she chirped, hopping slightly in place, her oversized sleeves nearly swallowing her hands whole.

"You're up early! Did you miss me that much?"

I sighed. "Pixie, it's five in the morning."

She gasped, eyes wide with false surprise. "Oh my gosh! You can tell time? I had no idea!"

My eye twitched, but before I could scold her, she giggled and stepped aside, gesturing dramatically. "Come in, come in! I was just making tea!"

Liar.

There was no way this girl had been making tea when she had clearly just crawled out of bed.

But I let it slide and stepped inside.

The house was nothing extravagant but still way bigger than what Noah and I used to live in together.

The place was simple, barely decorated, but well-kept.

The faint scent of ink lingered in the air, probably from an inkwell Pixie must have dropped while writing her usual 'secretive stuff'.

Glancing towards the hallway leading to Noah's room, I felt my eyebrows raised as I found the door open.

"Where is Noah?"

The girl tilted her head, slightly confused, but then looking at me staring at the open door to Noah's room, she clicked her fingers; as if realising something.

"Ahhh," Then, coughing lightly, she continued.

"Noah said it was fine if I slept in his room as it was too pink for him anyways and started sleeping on the couch outside."

My eyes instantly turned to another corner in the room where the lights were shut.

I couldn't help but frown.

The boy was sleeping in the living room.

Exhaling slowly, I pressed my fingers against my eyebrows.

Of course he'd do something like that.

Giving up his own bed without a word. Sleeping on a couch when he barely got any proper rest as it was.

Typical.

I turned back to Pixie, who was watching me with a knowing smirk, swaying slightly on her feet like she was enjoying a private joke.

"You let him sleep on that thing?" I asked, my voice tinged with a little irritation.

Pixie blinked at me innocently. "I mean, yeah? He offered." She held up her hands. "And let's be real, Grandma Sylvie—if I refused, would he have taken the bed?"

I opened my mouth to argue, then promptly shut it.

Damn it.

She was right.

Instead, I sighed and moved toward the dimly lit corner where the couch was.

The fabric was worn but clean, a thick blanket resting over a sleeping figure.

Noah lay curled on one side, his dark robe bunched up around him with strands of almost almost white hair falling over his closed eyes.

That was what had become of my baby boy in the past few months?

I sighed again.

He had fallen into a continuous cycle of depression ever since he returned back from the battle of Villo Greek.

Looking at my boy who was once so healthy and wouldn't stop smiling, I felt a pang of regret… maybe we were happier back when we were exiled.

Weren't we?

Noah's breathing was deep and steady, but his face… even in sleep, he looked troubled.

I frowned. My fingers twitched at my side, but I didn't reach out. Instead, I simply turned away.

"Let him sleep," Pixie said, her voice softer now.

I glanced at her.

She wasn't smiling this time. Her usual brightness had dimmed just a little, a rare moment where she wasn't playing around.

I hesitated. But in the end, I nodded.

We made our way back to the kitchen, where Pixie—who, unsurprisingly, hadn't been making tea earlier—happily rummaged through the cabinets.

I sat at the wooden table, my fingers tapping idly against the surface while Pixie practically bounced over to the kitchen.

Watching as she carefully started making tea this time, I hummed a soft tune under my breath.

I had come here worrying about Noah, and this girl had somehow turned that into a morning tea session-

hufff, this girl... I really don't get her.

Pixie had always been like this, ever since the moment she entered the house.

It was no surprise the others had warmed up to her quickly despite her being a complete stranger just a few months ago.

But that was the thing.

Nobody knew where Pixie had come from.

Just that Noah had brought her home when he returned from the Battle of Villo Greek.

Venus and I, however, knew exactly what happened.

After all, with his connections and my powers combined, there were very little things that we did not know.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

I studied her carefully as she poured the water, her expression carefree, completely unbothered by the silence stretching between us.

How could someone lose everything and still smile so brightly?

Leaning back on my chair, I asked. "...Have you been doing okay?"

Pixie glanced at me over her shoulder, raising a brow. "Huh? What kinda question is that?"

I hesitated for a moment before choosing my words carefully. "You're… adjusting well. But it's not easy being in a new place."

She turned fully, setting the teapot down as she blinked at me.

Then, with a small smile—less exaggerated this time, quieter, she shrugged. "I like it here. It's different. But it's nice."

Her voice was softer now, lacking its usual playfulness.

It was one of the rare moments where I caught glimpses of something else in her. Something hidden beneath all that laughter.

Guilt tugged at me.

She was just a child, after all.

And Noah—

I exhaled, forcing my thoughts away from him. There were things I needed to understand first.

Pixie suddenly brightened again, as if flipping a switch. "Oh! Do you want sugar in your tea?"

I shook my head, letting her steer the conversation away. "No, just plain."

She pouted. "Boring. You should live a little, Grandma Sylvie!"

I chuckled despite myself. "Is that so?"

The conversation shifted to lighter things, but my mind remained elsewhere.

Because no matter how much Pixie smiled, no matter how much she filled the house with warmth—

There was something she didn't know.

A truth that, once known, would shatter the world she knew.

After all...

The very person she now called family was the same one who had taken hers away.

***