"Bro, did you wear the wrong mask?" someone asked.
Roger replied calmly, "Nope. Don't you think it's fun like this?"
"It's fun, sure, but it's got no class," a man said.
Roger wasn't interested in arguing.
He came here to have fun, to enjoy himself.
What others thought didn't matter to him.
The venue had a dozen long tables filled with various foods and fine drinks.
The first thing Roger did upon entering was eat.
With a glass of rum in his left hand and a skewer of roasted meat in his right, he wandered around while eating.
Guests wore lavish costumes and all sorts of masks, making it impossible to recognize anyone.
A few young people wearing Magic Guild badges stood out.
They seemed to flaunt their affiliation, acting loudly as if to make sure everyone knew they belonged to the Magic Guild.
Members of the Magic Guild enjoyed privileges above others.
Even if they weren't Nobles, they qualified to attend such Noble parties.
"Excuse me."
A familiar voice called from behind Roger.
He turned and saw it was a waiter—not wearing a mask.
"Simord!" Roger said with surprise, the name flashing through his mind.
Simord had a day off and looked mostly recovered, though his neck was still a little red and swollen.
Though he was a new member of the Magic Guild, he wasn't qualified to attend the Masquerade Ball—but here he was, working as a waiter.
It was clear he had put a lot of effort into currying favor with those high-ranking nobles.
Noticing Roger's gaze, Simord humbly bowed and greeted him.
Roger teased with a smirk, "Not bad, kid. Keep it up! I'm rooting for you."
"Thank you, I will," Simord replied quickly, grateful.
Everyone present was a respected noble, so he had to be polite.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that the voice of this "young nobleman" wearing the witch mask sounded very familiar.
It reminded him of Roger.
Still, he knew Roger wasn't qualified to attend this kind of party, so he didn't believe the man in front of him was Roger.
Simord's purpose at the Masquerade Ball was to network with some nobles and pave the way for his future.
So, he tried to win Roger over by personally bringing him a glass of the finest wine and a plate of rare, expensive dragonfish steak.
"Nice. I'll remember you," Roger said, lifting the wine glass with a playful smile.
Simord bowed again. "It's an honor. If you need anything, just say the word."
Roger waved his hand. "Alright, you can scram now."
Hearing that, Simord froze awkwardly.
He had thought he was about to make a noble connection, but instead, he got treated like that.
Angry but afraid to say anything, he forced a smile and wisely stepped away.
Not long after, the crowd suddenly grew restless.
People craned their necks, scanning the room as if searching for something.
"Miss Annie is already here? With so many young ladies, how are we supposed to find her?"
"Yeah, every girl's wearing makeup."
"No way to tell which one's Annie."
"Miss Annie, come dance with me!"
Several young nobles shouted loudly.
For a moment, all the male guests focused their attention on Miss Annie.
Since no one could recognize her, they had to wait for her to invite them to dance.
"Miss Annie rarely shows her face—I can't even remember what she looks like," Roger thought to himself.
He wasn't fond of this noisy atmosphere, nor was he interested in Miss Annie.
After eating and drinking his fill, he found a chair and sat down.
On either side were attractive men and women, all relaxed and uninhibited, chatting up anyone who caught their interest, flirting freely.
Just as Roger was about to strike up a conversation with a pretty girl to pass the time, someone suddenly wrapped an arm around his neck from behind.
"Hehe, found you!" Hathaway's sultry voice whispered in his ear.
Roger recognized her and was a little surprised. "How did you recognize me?"
Hathaway's hand traced his neck, her ample chest pressing against his back. "You've got a kiss mark on your neck from me, so I knew it was you right away."
Roger chuckled. "Uh, alright then."
Hathaway let go of his neck, swayed her sexy hips, and sat down on Roger's lap, looping her left arm around his neck. "Here, we play however we want, hehe."
Roger shook his head firmly. "No, no, no—let's keep it proper."
"What's the point of being so proper? Let's go upstairs to the guest rooms. If we wait too long, there won't be any rooms left," Hathaway said with a sly smile.
During the party, many of the older guests would sneak off to the rooms upstairs to enjoy themselves, no questions asked.
After tonight, they would all be strangers again.
Especially those guests who came from the villages—those were the ones who partied the hardest.
"Aren't you afraid Kurinan will find out?" Roger whispered.
Hathaway shrugged it off casually. "This is a party for young people. He's got no business here. Who knows where he's running around causing trouble now."
Roger said, "There are so many handsome young men here—you can't just pick on me."
Hathaway smiled. "I'm very loyal. If I like someone, I only like one."
Then suddenly, she kissed Roger passionately.
Caught off guard by her sudden attack, Roger froze for a moment, his desire quietly stirred.
He instinctively reached out and cupped Hathaway's left breast.
But the next second, he snapped back to reality and pushed her away. "Just a little tease is enough. Now's not the time for this."
To escape Hathaway's persistence, he stood up.
Hathaway knew better than to push too far. She backed off immediately and went off to find her own fun.
"This woman's like a succubus reincarnated—hard to handle," Roger thought helplessly.
"Hey!"
Another noble girl wearing a white lace silver mask approached Roger.
Her voice was familiar.
Roger immediately recognized her, especially with her tall, sexy figure—there was something uniquely beautiful about her.
It was Norna.
"How did you recognize me?" Roger asked, curious.
Hathaway replied, "I noticed you as soon as you arrived. If I hadn't seen the red mark on your neck, I wouldn't have known it was you."
Roger felt a little embarrassed. "You've got a good eye."
Hathaway smirked mischievously. "But it can't compare to your charm—someone's already been getting cozy with you."
Roger hurried to explain, "That was just an accident. She got the wrong guy."
Hathaway dropped the subject, leaning in with a mysterious tone. "I know who Annie is. Want me to introduce you?"
"No interest," Roger said flatly.
As they talked, the crowd suddenly grew excited.
Roger followed the gaze of the guests and saw a petite young woman in a pale moon-colored gown, wearing a simple white jade mask and a white shawl draped over her shoulders.
She was the granddaughter of Mr. Nazar—Miss Annie.
Under a torrent of heated gazes, she stood at the center of the room.
Her official entrance marked the start of the most thrilling part of the evening.
The matchmaking.
Everyone knew the rules: the first man Annie chose would face challenges from the others.
Who would last until the end and become Annie's fiancé? That was the biggest suspense of the night.
None of the young noblemen wanted to be picked first, but all feared being overlooked.
It was a mix of anxiety and excitement.
"Why don't you step forward and take a chance? Annie doesn't care about her fiancé's background or profession. If she picks you, consider yourself lucky," Norna leaned in, teasing him.
Roger shook his head. "No way! The person I want to run into hasn't shown up yet."
"Who are you hoping to meet?" Norna asked.
"A noble patron," Roger said.
"A noble patron?" Norna looked confused for a moment, then added, "I already introduced you to Annie. Even if she doesn't choose you as her fiancé, she'll probably want you to make her some sexy lingerie."
Roger shrugged. "Well… that depends on how she behaves."
Besides Norna, five other noble girls had followed them.
There was Celine and the slightly chubby girl among them.
All five wanted Roger to custom-make sexy lingerie for them, so they were trying to win his favor.
"Hurry up! Don't let him get away," Celine's voice rang out.