There was a long hallway on one side of the living room where Hernán and the others were trapped.
At the end of the hallway stood five locked doors, spaced evenly apart.
They had been dismissed long ago—empty, unresponsive doors with no sign of life behind them. Useless and meaningless.
But now, everyone's attention was drawn to them.
"I think it opened thanks to me and Hernán!"
Sharpie's delighted cry echoed as the group hurried toward the leftmost door. The lock had shattered, and the door now stood slightly ajar.
A dim, ominous red light spilled through the crack.
"Isn't it dangerous?"
Hernán felt cold sweat drip down his back. His headache, which had started earlier, hadn't left.
Could it be that this was just another cruel prank devised by the demon god?
"It smells… strange."
The elf inhaled deeply, intrigued, and quickened his pace.
The group, except for the injured Potty and Marina who supported her, reached the door. The hero was the first to place a hand on it.
"Let me open it."
"I said I'll open it!"
Sharpie pouted, but the hero ignored her. In truth, it made sense for either Hernán or the warrior—those still in fighting condition—to take the lead.
"…?"
When the hero opened the door, a wave of red light, tinged pink, poured over her face.
She stood frozen, gazing inside.
The others, including Potty and Marina who had just arrived, called out to her to move aside, but she didn't budge.
"Karine. Let me see."
Hernán gently moved her shoulder, urging her to step aside.
"This…"
And as Hernán looked inside, he too was rendered speechless.
"Oh, come on!"
Sharpie shoved her way through the gap between Hernán and the door, unable to contain her excitement.
Her face lit up as she entered the room.
"This is my private chamber!"
Just as she declared, the large space was filled to the brim with erotic paraphernalia.
Hernán and the rest of the group followed her in, their eyes scanning the lavish and lewd contents.
Near the entrance was a large shelf lined with scented candles and exotic oils—enough to last for years.
The oils, clearly for body use, were innocuous enough, but the red candles were labeled "Tie Here." Hernán didn't even want to imagine their purpose.
On the adjacent wall hung collars and short whips—the kind nobles used to guide their hounds.
"What the hell is this…"
There was little else he could say.
"Hernán!"
Sharpie ran up as Hernán examined a leash.
"Is this your thing? Want me to show you how to use it?"
"A demonstration…?"
Before he could protest, Sharpie fastened the collar around her own neck and placed the leash handle in Hernán's hand.
"Woof!"
The Demon King dropped to all fours, pressing her horns against Hernán's crotch.
"Master… Let's do that thing!"
The women—who had been looking around in shock—suddenly turned their eyes toward the scene.
Noticing their reactions—especially Carine's—Hernán realized how it must look.
"I—I didn't tell her to do that!"
He quickly dropped the leash and backed away, but Sharpie pouted and picked up the handle with her mouth.
"Whine…"
Her large eyes gazed up at Hernán as if begging him to take the leash again.
The obscene tattoo on her lower belly only added to the depravity of the moment. Hernán was painfully aware of the stares around them.
"This isn't what it looks like…"
"Demon."
Karine's cold voice stopped Sharpie.
She dropped the leash and rose to her feet.
"Hernán's lover doesn't seem amused."
Before he could say anything, Sharpie walked off toward another set of items the hero was inspecting.
"What kind of pervert uses precious ebony wood for this?"
Hernán turned to see Silnia holding what looked like a finely polished black rod.
"Is that a dildo? It's well made—won't cause injury no matter how tight someone is."
"Get lost!"
Silnia flushed red and hurled the thing at Sharpie, who yelped and caught it awkwardly.
"Hey! That's top-grade craftsmanship!"
It was beyond embarrassing. Hernán rubbed his temples and moved toward Marina and Potty, hoping they were looking at something less explicit.
Marina wore a puzzled expression, but Potty was beet red, twitching her hands—and her ears and tail.
It was obvious what she was staring at.
"Ears and a tail?"
"H-Hyan!"
Startled by his voice, Potty clung to Marina, exposing what they'd been inspecting.
A fluffy artificial tail with a... rather inappropriate handle.
"Calling that a 'handle' seems wrong…"
Marina tilted her head, frowning at the object, whose beaded end was clearly meant to go somewhere intimate.
"Hernán!"
Sharpie returned with sparkling eyes.
"Do you like this too? Is that why you slept with the bunny girl first instead of me?"
Potty flinched, stealing a glance at Karine, who was across the room.
Hernán signaled for Sharpie to quiet down.
Potty wasn't fully healed. Provoking Karine would make things worse.
Fortunately, Sharpie lowered her voice—though she was still visibly excited.
"Give it."
She snatched the tail from Hernán's hand.
"This goes inside here…"
"You're not actually going to show us, are you?"
At Hernán's deadpan tone, Sharpie stopped just before sticking it in herself.
The saintess stared in horror. Hernán could feel her trust in Sharpie—which had been recovering—rapidly eroding.
"It's... wonderful for women. There are no words."
Reluctantly, Sharpie let the toy fall back into place.
Hernán, deciding to check on the last person, approached Carine.
"What are you looking at?"
"Huh? Just… this."
The pink light illuminated her pale skin, making her look softer than usual.
She was gazing at a large triangular structure—somewhere between furniture and equipment. A person climbing on it wouldn't be able to touch the ground.
It resembled a roofless doghouse—awkward and dangerous to straddle.
"Wheee!"
Suddenly, someone jumped past them.
"It's been ages since I've seen a triangle horse!"
Sharpie straddled the device triumphantly.
Everyone turned to her.
And she shouted, arms raised high.
"Welcome to Sharpie's special room!"
"Special room…"
Carine murmured, as the rest of the group gathered around.
"Hernán, shouldn't we get the Demon King off that thing?"
Marina looked stricken.
She had never seen anything like this in her life. Hernán hadn't either, and he could only gape.
"Still… that's Hernán's child over there."
She pointed to the tattoo glowing on Sharpie's belly.
Hernán hesitated, then walked to her and extended a hand.
"Sharpie, you're pregnant."
She pouted but accepted his help and dismounted.
"Let's praise the demon god for his gift! Such a thoughtful present for my first pregnancy!"
"You're really praising the one who locked us up?"
Karine's voice was cold.
"Is this a joke? You and the demon didn't trap us here together, did you?"
"Of course not! I want to leave too. Ideally, with all of you!"
Karine kept firing accusations, and Sharpie danced around them with ease.
Hernán couldn't help but laugh. Sharpie was a menace—but somehow hard to hate.
The hero gritted her teeth and turned to leave.
"Wait. Take this with you!"
Sharpie handed her a phallic object from a table.
"What is this?"
"Well, you're not sleeping with Hernán, are you? Might as well have this for when you get lonely."
The color drained from Karine's face.
Hernán moved to stop her, but Sharpie, oblivious, continued.
"So even when you masturb—Kyaa!"
Carine threw something at her. The mood turned frigid again.
The room's temperature dropped with every step the hero took toward Sharpie.
"Carine."
"Move, El."
"No. You're going to hit her."
"I just want to talk."
Karine advanced, murderous intent radiating off her.
Hernán glanced at the trembling Sharpie and quickly intervened.
"If something happens to the baby, we'll be stuck here even longer."
"Yes, warrior. Let's just go."
The saintess supported Potty, urging calm.
Karine stared at the tattoo again.
A full heart.
Even if it looked cheap, it was a reliable method—guaranteed by demonkind.
There was likely a new life growing inside her.
"…Fine."
The fury in Karine's eyes cooled—but only on the surface.
I can't leave Sharpie alone with her again, Hernán thought.
He almost missed the boring days they'd had.
"Even my gifts are rejected."
Sharpie pouted and clung to Hernán.
"Next time, if you're careless like that, you could get hurt."
"Then… will you protect me, baby daddy?"
She placed his hand over her belly.
Baby daddy?
Hernán scowled at the unfamiliar title.
"Even if I'm not your husband, I heard fathers still protect their kids."
She smiled and leaned closer.
"You've already started acting like a father, haven't you?"
"Have I?"
"Didn't you protect me just now?"
"That…"
Was it as her child's father? Or as someone protecting his only escape route?
The Demon King seemed to believe it was the former.
"Will you protect me, Hernán?"
Her voice was warm and seductive.
But before he could answer, Silnia—who hadn't left—interrupted.
"It's pathetic, having a conversation like that in a room like this."
The elf glared at them.
"You haven't left yet?"
Hernán felt oddly relieved by the interruption.
Sharpie said nothing more and stepped back.
"I have things to consider."
Hernán followed Silnia out, grateful for a reason to escape the increasingly pink atmosphere.
"This room appeared because the dreamer got pregnant, right?"
"Logically… yes."
"It means we'll each get one when we're pregnant."
"Probably."
The life guide had said rewards would follow successful conception.
"Are you pregnant too?"
Sharpie appeared beside him.
"Wanna die?"
Silnia raised a hand threateningly, but Hernán blocked her.
"Joking!"
"Hernán!"
Marina's urgent voice cut in from the hallway.
"What is it? Just shout next time."
Silnia frowned.
"There's a new entry in the life guide."
Everyone turned.
"It says… preferential treatment will now be given to Hernán."
Sharpie giggled and shoved Hernán forward.
"The Demon God's gift isn't over yet!"
Hernán sighed.
As always, you don't know if it's truly a gift until you unwrap it.