Chapter 31
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: As Expected of My Husband!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Ah, right, dear. About that... there's actually more I want to show you."
I gazed down at Sora's teary, glistening eyes as she clung to me, still sniffling, and casually pulled out an envelope.
Having won her trust with the wedding invitation, it was time to play my next card.
I needed to etch into my wife's mind the conviction that she had no one to rely on but her husband.
"This is...?"
Sora peered at the paper through her reddened, bloodshot eyes.
"...'Kim Taegon, Executive Director, is cordially invited'? What is this... an invitation?"
I flashed a sly, predatory grin on purpose.
"Yeah. One of the Prismatic Eight bit the dust, right? So the villains are throwing a little get-together to celebrate. Got the invite, and I figured I should show it to you too, honey."
"...A party? From the Villain Alliance?"
Sora's expression shifted in an instant.
Just moments ago, my wife had been trembling so enticingly with tears streaming down her face. But as expected of Pink Lumina.
Her sense of justice flared up in a flash, and she bared her teeth, snatching the invitation away.
"Those filthy villain bastards...!"
She clenched her fingers tight.
Looking ready to rip the paper to shreds right then and there.
But that wouldn't do.
"Hold on, Sora."
I hurriedly grabbed her wrist.
"This isn't something you just tear up. It might actually be an opportunity."
As I broached the subject carefully, Sora's eyes widened.
"...An opportunity?"
"It's a Villain Alliance party, remember? All the big shots will be in one place."
I deliberately took a breath and met her gaze slowly.
A low chuckle escaped me, laced with a hidden, sinister heat.
"You mean...?"
To her trembling question, I nodded slowly.
"Exactly. We infiltrate the party and scout their movements first."
My voice carried not just confidence, but a brazen assurance, like hands leisurely stripping a woman bare.
"How often do you get a chance to peek right into the heart of the villains?"
"!!"
Only then did Sora catch on.
Why I'd handed this ominous invitation to her, a magical girl.
That's right.
From now on, I was Pink Lumina's hands and feet—her personal dildo to thrust into her night after night if needed.
And at the same time, a cool-headed spy ready to tail her into enemy territory and steal intel on command.
It didn't matter that I held an executive seat in the Alliance.
From the start, I'd always been the kind of guy who prioritized fucking Pink Lumina's pussy over saving the Earth.
Villain Alliance?
Don't make me laugh.
You're all just fertilizer for our Sora's second golden age from here on out.
"I've always skipped out on these parties—they're boring anyway. You know how executive spots draw heat from magical girls and even our own villains eyeing each other up."
I pulled Sora into my arms with a sigh, playing the reluctant part to a tee.
Shoulders slumped heavily as if to say, 'I'd never take a risk like this without you.' My gaze drifted wearily aside.
And Sora, nestled in my arms, bought the act hook, line, and sinker.
Her chest trembled, her heated breaths washing over me.
"D-Dear...! Taegon...!"
Tears welled up in Sora's eyes again in an instant.
I licked those tears from the corner of her eye with the tip of my tongue and whispered low.
"I was scared you'd misunderstand me. And no wonder—I've walked this path from the start just to get close to you, Pink Lumina, even once."
As I said it, I lapped up the tears gathered at the corner of Sora's eye with my tongue tip.
The salty taste hit, drawing my nose deeper toward her ear like seeking a richer scent.
My fingers had already delved into her inner thigh, leisurely rubbing the warming, moistening skin.
As Sora shuddered, I pressed my body even closer.
In that overlapped-breath distance, I whispered.
"But I swear it. My rise to executive in the Villain Alliance? All because... I was damn good at paperwork!"
...Of course, in reality, it was mostly from picking out a few disobedient punks, blowing them up as examples, and cracking the whip.
I kept brazenly piling it on.
"Never looted civilians, never killed a magical girl. Hell, I pretended to while secretly saving them behind the scenes."
Reality was a bit different, sure.
I didn't kill civilians, but promising young sprouts got recruited into the Alliance for grunt work. Magical girls were too valuable to kill outright, so I'd toss them into the tentacle breeding pits.
Still... not total lies.
"So trust me, Sora."
"Of course... You're my husband—how could I not?"
Her words hit me with a pang of guilt.
Oof, conscience stinging.
But... technically not wrong, right?
Shoving aside the guilt, we embraced like proper husband and wife, sobbing into each other's necks.
Sob, wail—tears soaked us both.
And honestly, it wasn't just our eyes crying.
Clear precum dripped steadily from the tip of my cock, overflowing with emotion.
Faces pressed tear-to-tear, we pulled back to meet eyes, and I said.
"Thank you, Sora. I'm so happy you're my wife. So let's make this party a success together."
"Yeah! But... if it gets even a little dangerous, we bail right away, got it? Don't push yourself because of me."
I smiled, stroking her cheek.
"Haha, don't worry."
But inwardly, I chuckled to myself.
Truth is, I set up that party.
The night when the full moon—the symbol of romance—hung high.
Yet the scene bathed in its light was no lovers' tryst, but a vulgar, decadent feast.
A lavish mansion fit for world leaders or corporate tycoons.
VIP after VIP checked in under escort, smiling as they stepped onto the red carpet.
At a glance, it could pass for a summit from the news.
But one key difference.
Among the entrants, the ones you could call "people" were few and far between—and all of them "females."
And those females? Even more lascivious.
Were they "wives," "personal fucktoys," or "trained bitches"? Hard to tell.
Instead of clothes, thin metal rings pinched their nipples, scraps of mesh barely covered their pussies.
Every step left wet trails, and under the guise of "dress code," they were forced into the humiliating ritual of displaying their cunts for inspection.
This was the Villain Alliance party's "female-only dress code."
At check-in, spread your pussy wide and declare, "I'm not a pure magical girl spy~!" to prove it.
When Sora first heard about the dress code, her face exploded beet red.
But she steeled herself.
"Th-This is all... for justice!"
For justice!
And above all, to not waste the favor her husband Taegon had gone out of his way to arrange!
Of course, the especially slutty dress code tonight was none other than her husband Taegon's handiwork.
Oblivious, Sora finally appeared on the red carpet, arm-in-arm with her husband, the picture of marital bliss.
"D-Dear... how do I look?"
"Perfect. So trashy and slutty, they'd all nod if I called you my personal fuckhole."
"I-Is that a compliment?! Ugh... the cool breeze keeps slipping between my legs... feels so weird...!"
Taegon stood poised in his sharp tuxedo, smiling genteelly, effortlessly drawing eyes.
Sora beside him was a total contrast.
She entrusted her body to scraps of thin fabric unworthy of the name "dress," exposed under moonlight and flashes.
Pink nipples stiffened erect in the chilly night air through the cloth, and below, her dripping pussy peeked through the mesh gaps.
Her pale thighs quivered with tension and shame, sweat beading and glinting in the moonlight.
While the other females looked like uniform slabs of meat, Sora stood out starkly among them.
Gawkers lining the red carpet had their eyes glued to her spread slit and heaving chest.
"But... dear, these villains here. They're all surprisingly quiet?"
"Quiet?"
"I mean... you're an executive, right? I figured the grunts up to the brass would swarm us with greetings the second we showed."
As Sora muttered softly, glancing around while waiting in the dress code line, I smirked at her face and answered.
"Has to be that way. Even as an executive, no one here knows my face."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Think about it—if all the executives' faces were public, you think Mana Defense Command would sit idle?"
Same reason only mid-level bosses ended up on wanted lists.
Take out a boss, and some punk with kills or underling loyalty fills the spot quick.
But executives? Different story.
Can't replace them easily.
Catch one, the whole Alliance shakes.
That's why executives are always "faces behind masks."
Only the "Boss" knows the real ones—and does the appointing personally.
This party was no exception.
Instead of flaunting "Executive Taegon," I hosted under my closest aide, the Absorbing Witch.
So here, my status was just mid-boss level.
But tagged as "a guest the Absorbing Witch personally vouched for."
No one would dare touch me, no matter what.
Just like now.
"Hey, hey! You there, bitch... why's your glare so defiant? You a magical girl spy or what?!"
"U-Us...?"
Blocking the line was a salamander guard.
Sora paled, flailing as she gripped my arm tight.
But I caught on quick.
He'd flicked his tongue at me twice behind her back.
Right on script—the setup I'd pre-arranged.
To force Sora to "bare her pussy for inspection," willing or not.
I patted Sora's shoulder and shot the guard a subtle wink.
He winked back, then hardened his face and bellowed.
"Hey! If you're really not a magical girl, prove it right now!"
"H-How...?"
Sora's legs shook as she clung even tighter.
The guard sneered, tilting his chin up, and bellowed loud on purpose.
"Hmph! Easy! Spread that pussy and squirt your juices right here! No magical girl would go into heat dripping cunt slime in front of monsters! What better test?!"