Utopia's Secret Auction
The secret society Utopia (3). In the vast underground space created by Utopia, a clandestine meeting place, everyone present wore masks with their hoods pulled low over their faces. Their thorough secrecy, hiding their identities even from one another, was striking. Neromeltia and her companions slipped through the narrow entrance one by one, immediately hiding behind pillars along the side to avoid detection.
“We don’t know how long we’ll have to keep living in hiding! If that’s the case, isn’t tonight the perfect time to empty out my entire treasure vault?”
“That’s right!!!”
“Long live Utopia!!!”
“We’ve been waiting for this day!!!”
The members shouted in fervent excitement at Artis’s speech. When he nodded, three goblins carrying large, heavy-looking sacks climbed onto the platform and set them down beside him. Each sack bore cryptic markings. Artis, wearing a peculiar smile as he examined them, opened the one labeled “LSA.”
“The honor of opening today’s auction goes to—!!”
“Wooooooaaah!!!”
When Artis unfurled the painting from the sack before the crowd, Lusteria nearly screamed. The initials LSA stood for Lusteria servie Avenoah. What emerged was a painting of Lusteria herself—an oil work so vividly colored it seemed almost alive. In it, she was completely nude, clutching only a pink silk pillow to her chest to cover her most intimate areas. The soft swell of her breasts and the smooth curve of her hips were clearly visible, making the image intensely erotic. The pillow’s pressure pushed her breasts outward, their texture rendered so realistically that one could almost feel their softness. Her skin looked impossibly delicate, and the alluring contours of her hips appeared firm yet inviting, as if they might jiggle at any moment. Set in an all-pink bedroom, the painting captured even the faint sheen of her pale skin under soft lighting, every strand of her disheveled hair, and the reflection in her sparkling purple eyes. Her tail wrapped once around the pillow, evoking a protective instinct. The sight of the shy, adorable succubus relying on a mere pillow to shield herself completed the image of a fragile, delicate girl—enough to set any man’s heart ablaze.
The members erupted into cheers the moment the painting appeared, discarding all pretense of secrecy.
“Starting bid: twenty cabbages!”
“Twenty-five!”
“Damn it! Don’t go overboard from the start, friend! You planning to starve until the next ration?”
“I don’t care! Lusteria is the best!!!”
Lusteria’s face flushed crimson as she sank to the floor, desperately covering her face with both hands. Neromeltia’s teeth ground together in fury; she looked ready to storm out from behind the pillar and wring Artis’s neck on the spot.
“A-ah, we still haven’t heard from the main force! J-just a little longer, Your Majesty!”
Beriberi focused on restraining Neromeltia, worried that the members might scatter in panic if the Demon Lord revealed herself. If escape routes existed, they would lose many without collapsing the entire sewer system. That would turn the investigation into Utopia into a prolonged affair. Moreover, Neromeltia seemed intent on slaughtering every last member; while sharing nude paintings of women was a grave offense, Beriberi didn’t believe it warranted death, so he also hoped to calm her rage.
While Beriberi held her back, Lusteria’s embarrassing painting sold for thirty-five cabbages, and the next one was already being drawn from its sack. The initials read “BMD”—Beatrice the Magic Doll.
“The next piece is the highly anticipated work you’ve all been waiting for! The Cold and Haughty Maid’s Secret Kitchen!”
“Waaaaah! It’s the Secret Maid series!!!”
“This is actually happening! Is this real?!”
“Kuh…! That gap between her usual icy demeanor and this is unbearable!”
Artis proudly presented Beatrice’s painting as he announced the title. The atmosphere exploded. Bids flew before any starting price was even set—pure madness. The series had apparently been ongoing, and its fame among the members was beyond words. In the painting, Beatrice wore nothing but her apron. The garment barely reached from below her chest to her lower abdomen, far too small to serve any practical purpose. It existed solely as an accessory tailored to Neromeltia’s tastes. Beatrice was smeared with whipped cream across her body, pinching and tugging one erect nipple with one hand while circling the other with her fingers. Her lewd expression—gazing down at her own self-pleasure with flushed cheeks and a strange smile—was the true masterpiece. Her excitement showed below as well: glistening fluids trickled from her barely visible folds, streaking down her thighs in sticky strands that caught the light and dripped to the floor. Her soaked thighs gleamed as if freshly bathed. Even the background was explicit; in the distant dining hall visible behind her, Neromeltia sat at the table eating, while the maid hid in the kitchen, indulging in secret pleasure.
“I think I could kill them right now.”
“J-just wait a little longer, Beatrice! The main force should be finishing the encirclement any moment!”
“Beriberi, keep your eyes to yourself. If you so much as glance at that painting, I’ll kill you too.”
“Kuh…!!”
Despite her icy expression, Beatrice was on the verge of losing control, hurling harsh words at Beriberi for trying to calm her. Faced with her murderous aura, he had no choice but to back down. While the model herself seethed with killing intent, her painting sold for three sacks of carrots. Judging by the ration situation, the buyer had clearly been skipping meals to hoard them—and would now starve until the next distribution. His gaunt, hollow-eyed appearance proved how desperately he had fought hunger to save them. Yet he wept tears of joy at acquiring another piece of the Secret Maid series.
“Heh… heheh… Now there’s one more spot filled in my collection……”
“Not that guy again!”
“Hey, leave him be. That bastard’s staked his life on collecting the Secret Maid series.”
“Tch, tsk tsk. He’s gonna starve to death at this rate.”
The buyer’s eyes gleamed with something bordering on madness. The moment he received the painting, he wrapped it carefully in clean cloth, clutched it tightly to his chest, and melted back into the crowd. Beatrice shuddered at the sight of him rubbing his cheek against her image, genuine disgust flashing in her eyes. Then she smiled faintly and moved to soothe her seething master.
“Hehe… I’m fine, Master. Please stay calm.”
“Beatrice?”
“If they’ve been producing these as a series… then everyone here has already seen my paintings many times over. One more viewing won’t change anything. Besides, I intend to punish them severely enough that they’ll wish they were dead instead… so let’s just watch at our leisure.”
Beatrice’s gaze had turned as cold as frost, radiating palpable killing intent. Her master, meeting that murderous stare, seemed to agree; she nodded with an equally bloodthirsty smile. Beriberi decided he would no longer try to stop them, even if the main force’s report never arrived. Then his eyes drifted to the platform—and froze at the ominous initials: “NN.”
“Recently, a new beauty has appeared in our Demon Lord’s castle! And who might that be?!”
“Nellanella!!!”
“Wooooooaaah!!! We’ve been waiting!!!”
Artis pulled a small wooden box from the sack marked NN. Inside lay a set of tarot cards—except every card featured Nellanella as the central figure. NN stood for Nellanella. Artis displayed them one by one.
The Star showed her soaring through a starry night sky—nude, of course. Death depicted her laughing while holding a great scythe—nude. The Empress had her wearing a crown, smiling regally upon a throne—nude. Strength captured her training, sweat glistening on her toned muscles—nude. Judgement showed her raising an executioner’s axe with triumphant laughter—nude. Each card was beautiful or adorable, showcasing Nellanella from countless angles. The crowd, once cheering, fell into stunned silence, broken only by the occasional sound of swallowing.
“…I-I’m fine. B-before I’m a woman… I’m a soldier… This much shame is nothing……”
Nellanella tried to sound nonchalant, but her face burned bright red beneath her green skin, and her body trembled like a reed in the wind. She was mortified beyond words, yet forced herself to endure for the sake of the mission. However, someone else reached their limit first.
“I’ll kill him!!! Artis, you bastard!!!!”
Vwoooooom!!!
Beriberi, who had urged patience for everyone else, could not contain his rage at the sight of his beloved little sister’s nude form. Memories of raising her flooded his mind; the pain was unbearable. Nellanella was his much younger sister—practically a granddaughter in age. To him, who had no family after never marrying, she was like a precious daughter or granddaughter, raised with all his love and devotion. Tears streaming, Beriberi hurled his battle axe at the platform with furious force. It smashed the stone dais to pieces.
KABOOOOOM!!!
Rumble…!!
“Kuh…!! Lord Beriberi!!”
“Don’t you dare speak my name so casually!!! You eternal enemy!!!!”
Artis, moving with agility no one would expect from a fifty-year-old goblin, leapt clear and landed safely, staring at Beriberi in shock. The enraged Orc Lord’s fury instantly filled the crowd with terror, but Artis had no time to focus on him. Behind Beriberi stood an even more terrifying presence—the Demon Lord, slowly stepping forward.
“I believe I ordered you to stop painting. Was I mistaken, Artis?”
Her smile was so wide it seemed her mouth might split, yet the emotion behind it was anything but pleasant. The overwhelming killing intent in her eyes alone could stop a heart. At the Demon Lord’s appearance, Utopia’s members panicked and tried to flee.
“Paralyze.”
The paralysis spell swept from Neromeltia’s hand. Those who had dreamed of escape collapsed like statues, bodies frozen. She could have subdued them this easily from the start, but Beriberi had held her back, and she had been waiting to observe the Orc army’s performance. Now that Beriberi’s rage had exposed them anyway, she acted immediately.
“R-report! The encirclement at Point A is complete!”
A scout’s belated report confirmed that the main Orc force had surrounded the area as planned. Point A was the temporary code for Utopia’s hideout, proof of their professional training. Their operation had been flawless; completing a complex sewer encirclement in such a short time demonstrated rigorous strategic discipline.
“Ohohoho. While Your Majesty was away, I thought we could at least deceive the naive Sir Crawford’s eyes… It seems I was too complacent.”
Even as Neromeltia’s paralysis magic swept the entire space, Artis remained standing, calmly conversing. One gem on his necklace had shattered, its fragments scattered on the ground.
“Oh? A magical tool imbued with Dispel Magic’s blessing, I see.”
“Indeed! One of the treasures I found while scouring the ruins in the past. It’s a shame it’s broken now……”
Artis trailed off, gauging the mood, then suddenly leapt away and vanished behind the ruined platform. Neromeltia immediately gave chase, leaping onto the debris. A small passage lay hidden in the wall behind the dais—Artis had escaped through it.
“Tch.”
Neromeltia clicked her tongue and waved her hand irritably toward the rear. An immense wave of magic power rippled outward, strong enough to be felt on the skin.
“This is a good opportunity! I’ve released their paralysis, so show me how capable your Orc army truly is!!”
The members staggered to their feet one by one, bewildered that their bodies had regained freedom. They couldn’t understand why the Demon Lord herself had undone the very magic that had bound them. But Neromeltia had no intention of letting them wander aimlessly.
“If you want to live, run. Otherwise, I’ll kill you all.”
A tremendous surge of Luina erupted from her body. The visible storm of pitch-black magic power terrified the members into screaming and fleeing. What had seemed like a single vast chamber contained countless hidden passages in the walls and floor. They scattered instantly into their chosen escape routes. Having waited to test the Orc army’s capabilities, Neromeltia had given them their chance to shine. She turned once more toward the secret passage behind the broken platform. Though she wanted to smash everything in her path and charge forward, she restrained herself. Collapsing the ground supporting the Demon Lord’s castle would cause irreversible damage. With a sigh, she decided to pursue Artis personally through the tunnel.
Neromeltia stepped into the goblin’s secret passage to capture the fleeing Artis.