National Treasure Registration? I'll Decline

The sound at the door wasn't a knock.

It was the sound of breaking.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The hinges screamed.

Ground floor of The Wet Boot. Early morning. Not a single customer in sight.

Sera dropped the dish towel. Her face hardened.

"...It's the Bureau."

"The Bureau?"

"The Male Management Bureau." Sera's voice went low. "Under the pretext of 'managing' men, they're just the ones who round them up."

The woman who was always playing it cool was serious for the first time.

The door — opened.

No. It was torn off its hinges.

Three uniforms. Silver epaulettes on their shoulders. Binding chains at their hips.

Inspectors of the Male Management Bureau.

The woman at the front unfurled a parchment. A red seal. Wax hardened on it.

"Carrier Kang Dohyun. Official summons from the Male Management Bureau. — A National Treasure is subject to registration. Present yourself voluntarily."

I stayed slouched at the counter and cracked open a can of cola.

Pssst.

Slowly. Deliberately. Playing it calm.

One sip. The carbonation scraped down my throat.

These people probably had no idea that this one can was a laborer's weekly wage in this world. That back on Earth it used to line the shelves of every convenience store.

"So what's so great about registering?"

"You'll be protected." The inspector recited it like scripture. "A secure facility. A clean bedroom. A dedicated caretaker. Three meals a day. — For life."

"For life, huh." I swirled the can a little. "Nice. But what do you call that in other words?"

"...What are you talking about?"

"Locked in a facility for life. Managed for life. Never allowed to leave." I counted off on my fingers. "Where I come from, we call that — a life sentence."

The inspector's brows froze.

"Registration is an honor. A man designated a National Treasure is an asset of the continent."

"An asset." I nodded. "So you really do treat them like objects."

"Kang Dohyun. The jokes end here."

"It's not a joke." Another sip of cola. "I honestly would love a tour of one of those facilities sometime. The registered National Treasures — they're all doing well right now, aren't they? — Visits are allowed, right?"

The inspector's mouth shut.

For just a moment.

That moment was the answer.

"...As a matter of procedure, visits are restricted."

"Restricted." I set the can down on the counter with a clack. "You're supposedly protecting them — so why can't anyone see them?"

I ran the numbers in my head.

There was still a way out. I could bolt. I always had.

Quick Service.

Instant teleportation. My escape hatch — one leap, anywhere with coordinates.

I opened the System.

...Son of a bitch.

Of course.

I used it once yesterday, and now it locks me out for half a day.

I couldn't run.

Which meant facing three inspectors with my escape sealed shut.

Cold sweat slid down my back.

I took another sip of cola. I had to keep up the calm. The moment it cracked, those chains would end up around my wrists.

"And if I refuse to come in?"

"Forced registration." The inspector raised a hand. "Resistance constitutes attempted escape. The loss of a National Treasure is the loss of the continent's."

All three took a step forward.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠binding chains rattled.

Quick Service was locked, and it was just Sera and me.

...I had to think. Fast.

Then a voice drifted down the stairs.

"A loss, you say. — You do love talking about people like property."

It was Lara.

Her revealing wandering-dancer outfit. The face that had been laughing along just yesterday. But her eyes weren't smiling now.

"Inspector. You're with the Western Branch, aren't you? Director Baroness Carel?"

The inspector's eyes wavered.

"...How do you know that?"

"I'm an information broker, you see." Lara descended the stairs slowly, the tap of her bare feet on the wooden steps crisp and unhurried. "That branch had twelve men 'voluntarily register' last year. Nine of them — even their families don't know where they are now."

The air in the room froze over.

"And the other three?" Lara held up three fingers. "One was caught fleeing and re-registered. One was written off as deceased by illness. — And the last one, the record itself was erased."

"Baseless—"

"If registration is protection," Lara cut in, "why can no one ever lay eyes on a registered National Treasure? No letters, no visits, coordinates withheld from the public. — That's not protection. That's imprisonment."

The inspector ground her teeth.

"Claims without evidence—"

"Oh, there's evidence." Lara flung a scroll from her robes. It tumbled across the counter.

"Names. Dates. Withdrawal records. Even the branch's expense ledger. — I told you buying things is the smart way to live, didn't I? So I bought all of it."

The scroll unrolled with a whisper.

Tiny, dense lettering stretched all the way to the floor.

The inspector glared at the scroll. Her hands were trembling.

"Those are... sealed documents. Leaking them is a felony."

"It was a Bureau accountant who sold sealed documents to the market." Lara shrugged. "I merely purchased them legitimately. — If buying is a crime, shouldn't you arrest the seller first? Shall I name that accountant for you?"

The inspector's mouth clamped shut.

"Turn to page twelve of the ledger." Lara traced a line in the air with her fingernail. "Under 'National Treasure Upkeep' — the locks cost more than the men's food. — Why does a protection facility budget three times more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for locks than meals?"

"That's for security purposes—"

"If 'security' means keeping the people inside from leaving," Lara beamed, "then prisons are security facilities too."

Wow.

Information brokers are terrifying.

I just sipped my cola. There wasn't a single opening for me to jump in.

Then.

The door opened again.

This time, not smashed.

Quiet as ice.

Lena von Aska. Next head of Ducal House Aska.

The moment she stepped inside, all three inspectors instinctively backed away. This was a different rank of existence entirely.

"Kang Dohyun," Lena said, peeling off her gloves one finger at a time, "is a Carrier under formal contract with Ducal House Aska."

She unfurled a parchment. Our contract. The ducal seal stamped at the bottom.

"Article One. Protection. — Aska shall shield Kang Dohyun from any and all factions. Including the Management Bureau."

"Registration law supersedes private contracts—"

"Registration Law, Article Three," Lena cut in. "It only applies to 'unaffiliated men without a house head's signature.' Kang Dohyun is already under ducal contract. — He is not unaffiliated."

The inspector faltered, wordless.

"Forcing a contracted man into registration," Lena's voice was pure ice, "is not registration. Under continental law, it is imprisonment."

Imprisonment.

What she'd said back in Chapter 5 came flooding back.

'Imprisonment is a serious crime. Continental law says so.'

"Inspector." Lena took a step closer. "If you take Kang Dohyun from this place right now, I will prosecute it as instigation of imprisonment against Ducal House Aska. Along with Lara's name list — and that ledger."

"...You'd drag a ducal house into this over one deliveryman?"

"He is not a deliveryman." Lena folded the contract. "He is my asset. To borrow your own phrasing. — And on this continent, laying hands on someone else's asset is called robbery."

A counterattack.

She'd handed their own weapons right back to them.

Registration, assets, imprisonment — every last word had been pulled out of the Management Bureau's own pocket first.

The inspector stared at me for a long moment.

Then she folded the parchment. The seal crumpled.

"...We'll take our leave. For today."

"There won't be a next time." Lara waved. "I've already copied that list to plenty of places. Three high-society salons, two merchant guilds, one Magic Tower. — If the Bureau touches me, half the continent will be reading that ledger by tomorrow morning."

The three inspectors withdrew.

The binding chains sagged with another lifeless rattle.

The door closed. Quietly, this time. Only the busted hinges creaked.

Sera let out a long breath.

"...Guarding one National Treasure is exhausting."

I drained the last of the cola. It had gone lukewarm.

"Sera. Bill the Bureau for the hinges."

"Already writing up the invoice." Sera grinned.

The System flickered to life.

We'd drowned the Management Bureau out.

For the first time, on a continent of women.

Once everyone else had cleared out, Mia was the one left behind.

Newest recruit of the delivery guild. Twenty years old. She'd been fidgeting in the corner this whole time.

"...Senior."

"Yeah?"

"I was completely useless earlier." Mia clenched her fists. "Lena handled the politics. Lara handled the information. But me... I've got nothing. I just shook in the corner the whole time."

"You're the rookie. It's fine."

"It is NOT fine!"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Mia strode right up to me. Her eyes were red.

"I got looked down on my whole life. For being lower-class. For being useless. Told to just haul cargo in the back alleys. — But you were the only one who ever told me, 'Let's run together.'"

Her voice trembled.

"That's why — this place is where I belong. For the first time ever."

She looked me dead in the eye.

"Make me official. In the guild. Right beside you, Senior. — The front row seat."

The scan flickered up.

"Mia."

"Yes."

"You're not trying to earn your place with usefulness, are you. — You just want to stay by my side."

Mia's face flushed crimson in an instant.

"...That's also, true."

Mia moved first.

Rising on her toes, she pressed her lips against mine. Briefly. Then she pulled back and touched her own lips with her fingertips.

"I'm really going to work hard." Her breathing was already ragged. "More than Lena, more than Sera, more than Lara — I'll be the best. I'll prove it."

"Mia. This isn't a competition."

"I know. But this is the only way I know how to give my heart." Mia smiled. "I'm bad with words. So — I want to give you everything with my body instead. Can I?"

I looked into her eyes. Not a flicker of hesitation. A twenty-year-old's straight shot.

"We can take it slow."

"Nope. Fast. — I've been thinking about nothing but you since earlier, Senior."

Mia smiled again. Shameless and bright.

She undid the laces of her outfit herself. Without a moment's hesitation. One knot, then another.

The fabric slid down. The body beneath was young and firm. Shoulders honed by delivery work. A slender waist.

Mia covered her chest with her hands — then quickly lowered them.

"...I won't hide. From you, Senior, I'll show you everything."

She knelt down before me and pulled my trousers down.

My cock, already standing at full attention, sprang free.

Mia's eyes went wide.

"Whoa..."

She wrapped both hands around it. Carefully. Then pressed her cheek against it.

"It's so hot. — I'll take full responsibility for this."

"Responsibility for what?"

Mia pressed her lips to the tip. A soft kiss. Then flicked it with the tip of her tongue. Clumsy, but earnest.

"Nngh♡ It tastes good..."

"...You're really something."

"I'm the best at licking, right? — Say it."

Mia straightened up.

She climbed onto my lap and wrapped both arms around my neck.

"Now, I'll put it in. — Me."

Her wet pussy touched the head of my cock. With a soft slap, it slid against her — already soaked through.

Mia pushed her own thighs apart with both hands.

By herself.

"Senior, from now on, I'm spreading myself open for you."

"You don't have to."

"I DO. Member #1 prepares herself."

Her pussy was fully bared beneath her.

Already slick. The moment her fingertips touched it, a wet squelch sounded.

"...I thought you'd touch me first, Senior."

"That's your job."

"That was the plan." Mia laughed. But her smiling face was already drenched in need. "But waiting for your hands... it just happened on its own."

"What did?"

"Getting ready."

She pressed her fingers against her own entrance, and her eyes went round at the sensation of them sliding in.

"I'm this wet, all by myself."

"You are."

"...Nngh."

Mia lowered her hips.

Swallowing me deep in one motion.

"Ahhn♡"

A bright, high cry filled the room.

"...You're inside. Your cock, inside me, Senior. — All of it."

Mia smiled, overwhelmed, and began rocking her hips right there.

"Nngh♡ ahhn♡"

Fast. Eager. Like she had something to prove.

"Senior... I'm good at this, right? — I'm doing well, right?"

"Yeah. You're great."

"Hehe. — Then I'll do even better."

Mia worked her hips faster. Squelch, squelch. The wet sounds found a rhythm. The slap of flesh on flesh grew louder and louder.

Competitive. With everything she had.

"Nngh♡ ahhn♡ ahhn♡"

I thrust up from below, matching her pace. As fast as she wanted.

"There...! Right there feels so good...!"

I cranked the tempo way up.

Squelch, squelch, squelch.

The wet sounds burst out in waves.

Mia's small breasts bounced rapidly.

"Nngh♡ ahhn♡ faster — I love it fast...!"

"This speed okay?"

"I love it...! More...!"

Her nails dug feebly into my back.

"Senior...! My face is a complete mess right now, isn't it...?"

"Yeah."

"I hate it... but don't look...!"

"Why not?"

"Because I want to show you...!"

The wet sounds grew even louder.

Mia's thighs trembled and clamped around my waist.

"Mia."

"Yes, yes...!"

"You said you wanted to be first."

"Yes...! I want ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to be number one...!" Mia clung to my neck. "In your heart, Senior — I want to be the front row...!"

Those words drove me harder.

I gripped her hips and drove deeper. Harder, into the spot she wanted.

Squelch, slap. Every time my cock plunged in, Mia's whole body jolted.

"Nngh♡ Senior...! Can I really stay here...?!"

"Yeah. This is your seat."

"The front row...?!"

"The front row."

A tear dropped from Mia's eye. She cried while smiling.

"Nngh♡ ahhn♡ I love it...! I really love it...!"

Mia's hips grew more and more undone. Her rhythm turned desperate.

"Senior...! Something's wrong with me...! — Something's, something's coming up...!"

"Don't hold back."

"I won't...! I'm going to feel all of it...!"

Her tightening pussy clamped down hard on my cock.

"Can I come?" I asked. Because consent matters.

"Inside...!" Mia answered instantly. "Give me all of it inside...! — The front row seat gets the most...!"

"...That's not a real rule."

"I just made it...! Nngh♡"

Mia's hips shuddered hard.

"I'm — I'm coming...! Nngh♡ — I'm coming...!"

She crested her peak, arching her whole body like a bow.

Her pussy squeezed my cock tight, and I didn't miss that moment — I buried myself to the hilt.

A rush.

I came inside her.

Hot seed poured out deep inside her. Again and again, pulsing, filling her core.

"Nngh♡ — So hot...! It's spreading, inside me...!"

Mia buried her face in my neck, her whole body shuddering.

Mia slumped against my chest.

Her breathing was ragged. Even so, she was grinning ear to ear.

"...Senior."

"Yeah."

"I'm an official member now, right? — Front row seat?"

"Yeah. Member number one."

Mia pushed herself up and threw both arms in the air.

"I won!"

"That's why I told you, it's not a competition."

"It was to me. The biggest match of my life." She smiled bashfully. "For the first time in my life, I got to stand in the front. — Me, the lower-class nobody who was always looked down on."

A white trickle slid down the inside of her thigh.

Mia saw it, blushed — then smiled again.

"This is something I got the most of too, right?"

"...You're really something."

"Hehe. Then tonight's front row is mine too." Mia poked me with her finger. "Tomorrow's deliveries, I'm heading out first. I'm number one, after all."

"Once the cooldown's done, let's run together."

"Cooldown?"

"...It's nothing."

Mia smiled sheepishly. A twenty-year-old who'd grown up being ignored had, for the first time, claimed the 'front row'.

Her face was dazzlingly bright.

That night.

Beneath the sign of The Wet Boot, a black shadow stood waiting.

A dark cloak. A hood covering half her face.

A sword in her hand.

Sera froze as she peered through the gap in the door.

"...That crest. A continental ranking emblem."

The shadow lowered her hood.

Unhurried eyes. A woman. A scar ran across one eyebrow.

"Kang Dohyun."

A low voice.

"Continental Rank 3. Swordmaster Karin."

She drew her sword. A slow, singing rasp of steel.

The blade caught the moonlight and gleamed, cold and sharp.

"I've come — to cut you down."