Dark Moon

I stepped out of the mansion in a mask and a suit. Officially I was a special mercenary hired by the baron for security, so I wasn't wearing a military uniform.

I swept the grounds with a hard, assessing gaze.

If the enemy hits ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠us… would they come through the back gate instead of the front? Or maybe through the front, banking on the surprise of the unexpected.

The cleanest approach would be climbing the walls. And that was also the hardest. Current ran through them, and automated combat machines were mounted along the perimeter. The moment anyone tried to scale them, the machine guns would lock on and turn them into Swiss cheese.

As I made my rounds, I noticed the front gate was unusually noisy. Heading that way, I found a man arguing with a security guard.

He wore a battered hat and work clothes. His copper skin looked gaunt, and the stubble on his chin had gone days without attention. I'd seen that face during the briefing. Bill Clackson. The labor representative locked in opposition with Baron Ptelgar.

"As the workers' representative, I want to speak with Baron Ptelgar!"

"…I'm afraid that's not possible, Mr. Clackson. Baron Ptelgar is currently unwell and resting in his room."

Bill Clackson's face twisted as he roared.

"Don't give me that crap! I clearly saw a whore walk into this mansion through the front gate this morning! A sick man calling whores into his house?!"

"You're mistaken, Mr. Clackson. That woman wasn't a prostitute — she was a caregiver."

"Cut the bullshit! Get Baron Ptelgar out here! I just came to talk to him!"

Watching Clackson scream, the guard shook his head.

"Sigh. Mr. Clackson. You know this is pointless."

That was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when it happened.

A black car pulled up from behind. It stopped at the gate, the doors opened, and women poured out. Every one of them was an above-average beauty — short clothes, tattoos on their thighs, waists, and shoulders, hair dyed in flashy colors.

Whores. Expensive ones, at that.

I swallowed without meaning to as I looked them over.

"Hey mister, open the gate. It's not like this is our first time here."

"…Opening it now."

The guard opened the front gate. Bill Clackson, who'd been watching, charged forward. But the guard who'd been keeping an eye on him immediately grabbed Clackson and threw him outside.

"Gaaah! Th-this is assault!"

"This is self-defense. Feel free to call the police if you want. Actually, I should be the one calling the police. Mr. Clackson. Please leave before I file a report."

"Damn it… damn it. Damn it… Ptelgar!!!"

Bill Clackson scrambled to his feet and charged the gate again. The guard blocked him with practiced ease.

"That's enough. Leave. There's a limit to how much I'll look the other way. Only three days left until the final negotiation. You should show up healthy for that."

"Are you… threatening me?!"

"Not a threat — a warning. Leave within ten seconds. Otherwise, I'm calling the police."

"……"

Bill Clackson glared daggers at the guard before turning and disappearing.

The whores who'd come inside and been watching the whole thing giggled among themselves.

"What a letdown. If you're a man, you should at least put up a fight."

"Pathetic for a guy."

"Doesn't even look like he has money. Should just keep his head down and live quietly instead of making a scene."

The whores laughing among themselves spotted me standing a short distance away. Their faces immediately twisted into scowls.

"Hey, Mask Guy. What are you staring at?"

"Got the hots for us? Got money?"

"Get on your knees and beg. Then I'll show you my tits at least."

"Body's not bad though. Come by the shop later. I'll give you a freebie."

"Hey girls, you know what? Surprisingly, guys with good bodies often have small dicks. That's from personal experience."

I raised my right hand.

Crackle.

Electricity sparked from my palm.

The faces of the laughing whores froze instantly.

The guard who'd been watching approached. Unlike the firm attitude he'd shown Bill Clackson, he fidgeted nervously looking at me.

"…M-Mask-nim. You can't do this. They're the baron's guests."

I trembled. The electricity crackling in my right hand grew more intense. The guard and the whores shook with fear.

They seemed to think I was angry, but I wasn't. Quite the opposite. The fact that the guard and the whores were afraid of me sent a thrill through me. Different from sexual pleasure.

This is power…

I quickly calmed myself. The lightning crackling from my hand vanished.

"Those women. Have they been checked?"

My voice came out low and modulated — the mask's voice-altering function.

"They're the baron's guests. They've visited the mansion several times already."

"That was before. This is a critical period. Only three days left until the final negotiation. And I don't know those women. For all we know, they could have been bought off yesterday. If they cause an incident, will you take responsibility?"

Responsibility.

At that word, the guard flinched. In any era, what the rank and file feared most was responsibility.

"…What should I do?"

"Inspect those women thoroughly."

I walked toward the whores. Just leaking a bit of mana was enough to overwhelm ordinary people like them — they trembled.

I used a 2-Class wind spell to raise a wall of wind around the whores — to keep them from running. Seeing the magic, the whores lowered their eyes. Establishing dominance: success.

Arms crossed, I spoke to them in a mechanical, emotionless voice.

"I'm going to check whether you're hiding weapons under your clothes. Strip."

"Y-you can't just—!"

I looked at the resisting whore.

"Eek!"

She recoiled in terror, but the Wind Barrier blocked her. The barrier shoved her back by the shoulders.

"Strip. This is an inspection."

"…Mask-nim. Even so, this is going too far."

The guard stepped in. Cold sweat on his face, he looked me straight in the eye. The insolence of it.

What makes a weakling like him think ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he can talk back to me?

I amplified gravity.

Thud! The guard's knees hit the floor. Gravity crushed his upper body, forcing his head down.

"Grrraaah, grrraaagh…!"

The guard held on desperately. Veins bulged across his skin. I watched him quietly.

"…I-I'm sorry. I overstepped… my place…! P-please stop! At this rate…!"

Blood burst from his ears and nose. His body sank lower until his head finally touched the ground.

"S-spare me…!"

I released the Gravity spell.

The guard went limp.

"Until now, you've protected the baron your own way. But as long as I'm here, you follow my methods. Any complaints?"

"……None."

The guard said it through a dry cough.

I looked at the whores again. Sensing my gaze, they trembled. Some of them had their legs give out and collapsed to the floor.

"Strip."

"Y-yes!"

The whores stripped. They hadn't been wearing much to begin with, so it didn't take long to get naked.

I quietly swallowed as I looked over their bodies.

"Beginning the search. Stay still."

I approached. I checked their belongings and ran my hands over their bodies.

"…Fake breasts. You can't fool my eyes. Hiding weapons inside them?"

"N-no. They're just implants."

"Hmm. I'll have to feel them to be sure."

I groped the artificial breasts. In this technologically advanced era, the texture was nearly identical to real ones. But something was about twenty percent off. I pondered what it was and quickly found the answer. They lacked soul.

"I'll check inside your mouth. Open as wide as you can."

"Yes…"

"…Your teeth are a bit different. What did you do to them?"

"I-I broke a tooth a long time ago and had surgery…"

"I can sense faint mana from your teeth."

"Ah. I splurged and got magic teeth. No more worrying about cavities or bad breath — super convenient."

"…An application of cleaning magic? They make all kinds of things. Next, I'm checking below. Get on all fours and stick your ass out."

Her face went deathly pale.

"B-below… too?"

"The vagina and anus are optimal body parts for hiding weapons. Don't tell me a whore is feeling shame?"

"Whores are human too!"

"…I don't have time to argue with you. Do as you're told."

Crackle.

Electricity sparked threateningly from my palm. She squeezed her eyes shut, bent forward, and presented her ass to me.

Whether she maintained them regularly or not, her pussy and anus were clean. The only flaw was that her labia minora sagged a bit excessively.

I spread her pussy and anus with my fingers and conducted the inspection.

"Pass. No problems. Next."

The whores trembled with humiliation as they underwent inspection.

The last whore to be inspected looked like a newcomer. Weaker-nerved than the others, she kept shaking. Of course, that didn't mean I could just let her slide.

Every woman's pussy and anus looks different. Well, that's obvious, but… seeing it with my own eyes is turning me on.

I desperately fought to keep my cock from getting hard.

"No problems. You pass too…"

I stopped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mid-sentence and froze. I stood the last whore up and carefully examined her body — specifically, the tattoos inked on her.

"W-what is it?"

Black rose tattoos on her waist, shoulders, thighs, and nape. At a glance, they looked like ordinary tattoos.

"…Magic circles."

The patterns of magic circles had been hidden within the tattoos. The work of a skilled mage.

I glanced at her. No mana detectable. No matter how I looked at it, she was an ordinary prostitute. She couldn't have drawn the tattoos herself…

"Where did you get these tattoos?"

"Huh?"

"Answer me."

"W-well, a friend recommended a tattoo artist…"

That was when it happened.

Black smoke rose from the tattoo on her back. The magic circle was activating.

…Black mana?

This was black magic.

Having made my judgment, I immediately entered Charna. In the slowed field of vision, I prepared magic formulas. The moment the world returned to normal speed, I activated the spells.

Three spells activated almost simultaneously. At the same time, the whore in front of me toppled forward under the amplified gravity — and her body exploded.

Splat!

Chunks of the whore's entrails slammed into the Barrier and slid down in a wet trail.

"Kyaaaaaaah!"

Amid the women's screams, I thought coldly.

This is Living Bomb — a 3-Class black magic spell.