At the same time, inside the Saintfield family Space Station.
Jean Saintfield, dressed in formal attire, sat within the room. He had prepared fine champagne and the table was laden with gifts he had arranged, all in anticipation of a distinguished guest.
He liked champagne for it represented the taste of victory.
But it was not yet time to open it; the death of Saintfield VI was only the first step of the plan, trivial compared to what was to come.
Now, the most important thing was how to turn the name Jean Saintfield into Saintfield VII.
Suddenly, a large mirror stood in front of his desk, towering over two people tall, reflecting the study and his own figure. The study door remained closed, yet the mirror reflected a different scene.
A witch in a fiery red dress entered his study, her face adorned with glamorous makeup, her red lips briefly mesmerizing Jean.
In his life, he had seen many beautiful women, but none had ever made him feel quite like this.
