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A fragrant breeze brushed past, black veils fluttering.
Hips swayed, waists twisted.
A pair of scorching lips pressed toward him.
Allen's hands shot out, seizing both women by the throat—halting their momentum mid-lunge.
With a flick of his wrists, he tossed them behind him.
Then, his fingers curled around the door handle, slowly pulling it shut.
Click.
The door closed.
Turning around, he faced two "familiar" faces—
A voluptuous cat-eared beastwoman whose thighs pressed together without a hint of space between them, and a golden-haired, long-legged elf with a short cut, her eyes dripping with seduction.
Now, the scant coverings beneath their veils had vanished entirely.
Bare.
Not a stitch left.
Allen tilted his head slightly, utterly unfazed by the provocative display. Leaning lazily against the door, he crossed his arms and watched them with an amused smirk.
Silent.
The elf, surprised by his composure, maintained her sultry demeanor and spoke in a practiced noble's cadence.
"And why is that? You came to this inn on my suggestion—clearly, you were interested in us. You only acted startled earlier to placate your female companions, didn't you? I can tell you haven't even shared a bed with them yet."
Her gaze flicked over his attire. "Your clothes scream nobility. An arranged marriage, perhaps? How pitiful. If your family won't allow it… well, we're happy to relieve you~"
Beside her, the catgirl pressed her plush thighs together, eyes wide and pitiful—playing the perfect straight man with just her expression.
Allen's grin widened. He raised a single finger, holding it before his eyes.
"Your best chance to strike was the moment you stepped inside. What's the hold-up? Cut the act—seduction works on me."
He wiggled the finger.
"But you two? Not a chance."
The elf's eyes widened. She covered her mouth with a tinkling laugh.
"My, my~ You sound so suspicious. Some noble boys I've entertained acted just like this. Really, if you're always this paranoid outside, how can you ever—"
Mid-sentence, she spread her arms and stepped back, hips swaying as she spun gracefully. The black veil flared like an umbrella.
"—let—"
In the candlelight, every inch of her was laid bare.
"—go—"
Not a single hidden weapon.
"—yourself—"
She halted, arms outstretched, presenting herself like merchandise on display.
"But I understand you. See? I wore only one layer. Nothing hidden~ No danger at all~"
As the fabric settled, she took two steps forward, her toned thighs cutting through the air until she stood beside Allen.
Her fingers trailed along his arm before seizing his hand.
"Or… did I misread you?"
Her lashes fluttered, eyes glistening.
She guided his right hand to her own throat.
"Maybe you like it this way?"
Meanwhile, the catgirl blinked up at him with pitiful eyes, pressing close.
She took Allen's left hand and mirrored the motion—pressing it to her neck. Her body slid against his chest, soft and warm, descending…
Descending…
Until she knelt before him, fingers brushing his waistband.
A gulp. A thirsty look.
Her innocent expression made the contrast all the more striking.
Allen kept smiling, watching their performance without reaction.
The elf giggled, leaning in until her lips hovered beside his ear. A sticky, honeyed whisper slithered into his eardrum.
"So rough… but that's fine. Go ahead—play with us. Don't worry about your women hearing. No matter how hard you—"
Her breath hitched as the catgirl's fingers tugged at his belt.
"—we won't scream."
"So…"
The elf's lips drifted toward his—closer…
Closer…
Closer…
Then—
Froze.
The candlelight stopped flickering.
Golden strands of hair hung suspended in the air.
In the depths of Allen's gray eyes, the elf's face loomed—close enough to see the pink tip of her tongue teasing past her lips…
Then—
Pupils contracted.
Dilated.
"Flow Sense."
As natural as breathing.
The world moved again.
The candle flame jerked. Shadows warped as battle aura erupted!
Allen twisted his head aside—
A glint of steel shot from the elf's mouth!
His knee snapped up, slamming into her gut and sending her stumbling back!
His left hand swung—
"PAH!"
A full-force slap sent the catgirl's face whipping to the side!
A needle-thin blade shot from her parted lips, embedding into the wall with a thunk!
The elf, still reeling, parted her lips—
A second "tongue" flicked out from beneath the first!
"HISS—!"
A near-silent shriek pierced the air!
A needle, vibrating wildly, hung suspended—
Stopped.
Trembling.
—before Allen's outstretched palm.
Then, powerless, it fell.
Allen's right hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. His left assumed an odd stance.
The catgirl, blood dripping from her mouth, reached between her thighs—
A razor-thin blade flashed toward Allen's chest!
His left hand moved—
A crescent moon of steel spun in his grip!
"SHING!"
The moon fell—
Pinning the catgirl's foot to the floor!
A scream bubbled up—
"PAH!"
Another slap silenced her.
Allen's palm lifted—
"Immortal's Crown Touch."
A ripple of pressure slammed downward!
The catgirl's hair whipped wildly. The carpet flattened as if crushed by an invisible weight!
Her body folded—
Knees hitting the ground.
All four limbs locked in place.
Her plush flesh trembled.
A natural chair.
Allen sat on her back.
Casual.
The room's turbulence settled in seconds.
Candlelight flickered over his form—legs, waist, broad shoulders, raised arm, wrist—
Then extended—
Into a single, unwavering line of moonlight.
His sword, unsheathed, hovered—
One centimeter from a delicate throat.
The elf—no, the assassin—stood frozen.
She'd nearly impaled herself on his blade.
"Tap."
"Tap."
"Tap."
Allen, still seated, patted the catgirl's nape—
A "reward" for her obedience.
The beastwoman's tear-filled eyes locked onto her partner.
A trickle of liquid seeped into the carpet.
For beastkin, having one's neck gripped was primal—
The posture of prey.
Genetic terror.
Allen's sword twirled, then clicked back into its sheath.
He pointed at a chair.
"Sit."
"Questions."
The elf hesitated, then—with exaggerated care—perched on the table instead.
Legs spread.
Damp.
"T-This was a mistake… We didn't know you were this… strong."
Allen snorted.
"If I weren't strong, I'd already be dead, no?"
The elf relaxed slightly. Negotiation meant survival.
Damn it… The bounty only said "noble." Not "monster." Our kiss-of-death technique could've killed even a North Emperor…
And now…
Her thoughts shattered as Allen flicked his fingers.
The catgirl obediently spat out a hidden needle—
A tiny, tongue-colored spring-loaded dart.
Allen pinched it, amused.
"Peak Tang Sect's Rain of Flowers Needle?"
What is this, a mini-Tang San?
Disgusting.
He tossed it—
"THUNK."
"Ngh—!"
The elf jolted, legs clamping together as she doubled over in pain!
Allen ignored her.
"Questions. One second delay = death."
"Who sent you?"
The catgirl, trembling, answered instantly.
"B-Bounty…"
"Whose bounty?"
"Nightshade Syndicate… Anonymous posting."
"Why take it?"
"I… I didn't want to! A thousand gold could be earned in three years here! But Byris wanted to retire to the countryside…"
The elf, Byris, whimpered.
"…Sorry. We… misjudged."
Allen's lips curled.
No pity. Only annoyance for a certain blue-haired mage back home.
These two make a thousand gold in three years?
Meanwhile, Roxy—royal tutor and court mage of Shirone—earns a fraction of that.
What kind of world is this?
"Bounty demands?"
"Kill you… Make it gruesome. Stage a crime scene…"
Allen laughed.
"So, poke a hole in my head and chop me up?"
The assassins squirmed.
"Open bounty? Anyone can take it?"
"Y-Yes."
"How'd you ID me?"
"Description… Your group stands out."
"More assassins coming?"
"Not many… Most here avoid nobles. Only desperate ones take jobs like this."
"Syndicate's base?"
A pause. Then—
"No fixed base. Jobs are hidden in newspapers—coded. To accept, leave a marker in City Hall's suggestion box. No one checks those. Disposal's the same."
Allen exhaled.
Another sleepless night.
And not just for me…
He stood.
The assassins flinched as he strode to the door—
And yanked it open!
"Eek—!"
"Ah—!"
Two figures tumbled inside—
A tangle of black and white hair.
They face-planted onto the carpet.
…Tch.
More "experts."
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