Raid on the Adventurer's Guild and Succubus Mona (2)
――Lately, it feels like luck's been on my side.
'No, maybe it's just that my luck swings wildly back and forth... Or could it be that after getting royally screwed over by that damn Emilia bitch, I'm getting compensated elsewhere...'
Guildmaster Terry of the Adventurer's Guild hummed to himself as he wandered alone through the late-night streets of the city. His steps wobbled slightly, and though the darkness hid his face well, the flush of alcohol burned red across his cheeks.
Thanks to his other hobby—gambling—he'd made a tidy profit today and, in his excitement, had drunk a bit too much. It almost felt like the goddess of fortune herself was smiling on him; he'd swept the tables and hit the jackpot. It was so unbelievable that someone even accused him of cheating, but no amount of his occasional minor tricks could have rigged a streak like that. Pure luck. Excessive luck.
And for Terry, these moments came every now and then. Like yesterday's auction, where he'd finally crossed paths with that precious bottle of liquor he'd coveted for so long.
But... yeah. Whenever this insane luck hit, it always tied back to something with that damn hero Emilia. Thinking about it now, it always happened around her. Whenever he crossed paths with that wretched woman and vented about how shitty the world was, this kind of fortune would drop in his lap.
'No, no, no, no—that can't be right. It's ridiculous.'
'That plague of a bitch couldn't possibly be my goddess of luck...!!'
The suspicion bubbled up in his booze-addled mind, and Terry shook his head furiously to deny it. No way in hell. He just wanted that damn cunt to stay her miserable self. He didn't want to feel grateful to a woman like her.
Yeah... It was just his skill, his natural-born luck. That bitch must be sucking it dry just by being around. ...Yeah! That's it! Let's go with that!
"Fuckin' hell, that bitch!"
"~~♪"
With that, humming cheerfully again, Terry arrived at the Adventurer's Guild.
* * *
As guildmaster, he lived in a private space inside the guild hall. It was off-limits to adventurers, but that damn Emilia barged in whenever she felt like it. That morning's commotion was because of her. He'd thought it was his private sanctuary, grinning to himself, only for her to fling the door open without warning...
She was one of the rare Platinum-rank adventurers, so even Terry couldn't rein her in.
'Because of that damn bitch, I get nervous even when I'm jerking off!'
He'd splurged on a new magic recording AV vid and was sneaking a late-night session, only for bored Emilia to show up and catch the whole scene. Things had been awkward between them for a while after that...
"......"
Still, for all the gripes and frustrations—and there were plenty—if she vanished, he'd probably miss her. Hate-fucking feelings or whatever; even if he cursed her on sight, he secretly hoped things would work out for her someday.
Terry was one of the few who knew her story. Not out of loyalty or trust, but necessity. He knew she was the hero, that she came from noble blood yet scraped by in the gritty underbelly as an adventurer because her family had been attacked by some unknown bastard, twisting her life. He knew she'd suffered alone since childhood, forced to play the wild, unladylike role just to survive—utterly unbecoming of her high-born nature.
...Wait.
...Nah.
High-born nature my ass. That bitch was probably twisted from the womb. How else could she turn out such a vicious she-beast?
Fuck it. Whatever. Screw her. She can piss off anywhere she wants. Even if she vanished tomorrow, he wouldn't feel a shred of loneliness.
'......'
Still.
Still, he couldn't help hoping she'd get her revenge, at least.
"......Tch."
In any case, with the money she'd given him and every contact he knew, the investigation was ongoing. Something would turn up eventually. For now, all he could do was wait.
Clunk... Creak...
He entered the guild's inner area and opened the door to his private space, just like always. The room appeared as it ever did: a large round table in one corner piled with odds and ends or occasionally spread with guild management documents. The rest was a chaotic mess of cheap furniture crammed wherever it fit, making the spacious room feel a tad cramped for a grown man like Terry.
He advanced by moonlight and portable lamp. First things first—light the place up—
"......Who's there."
Pssht—
A low, gravelly growl rumbled from Terry's throat like a threat, his hand gripping the sharp knife he always carried. The blade's tip pointed to the dark corner behind the door.
Somehow, the light shied away from that spot, leaving it unnaturally shadowed. A faint presence stirred there.
He shifted the lamp, shining the light—but nothing. It looked like the usual empty corner. Yet he held his stance, dagger poised.
Then, like color bleeding into a sketch, something materialized in the void.
"?!"
Terry tensed his shoulders and stepped back.
It was a suspicious figure in a worn hood. Not tall. Not built like a sturdy adult male. But dangerous somehow. Even he, long removed from fieldwork, felt his instincts scream it.
Should he stab now? Run? As he froze in indecision, a slender soprano voice purred from under the hood—sweet as melted sugar, disarmingly lovely against the tension.
"......Oh my... You're not what I expected... I pictured someone a bit more dim-witted and pathetic~..."
'A woman...?'
The hood fell away, revealing a plain face with large round glasses and mousy brown hair in twin tails. Through the slightly parted robe, her ample breasts strained against thin fabric, their volume impossible to ignore.
"Who the hell are you...?"
"Guess who~?"
"Don't fuck around!"
"Eek~ So scary~!"
She twisted dramatically, making a fuss, her figure otherwise unremarkable save for those jutting breasts. Yet the longer Terry looked, the more an inexplicable allure seeped in—a seductive haze that bewitched.
Her gestures, her movements, her very posture felt ritualistic, drawing the eye, stirring male desire...
'What do I do? Stab her now?'
His mind reeled in bizarre confusion despite his cool facade. Normally, he'd have pounced the second she showed herself, seizing control. But now, the creeping sense of death rooted him in place.
――Approach, and die.
――Flee, and die.
His instincts screamed it endlessly; he couldn't move. A bead of cold sweat trickled from his brow, down his cheek, to his jaw—plip—onto the floor.
"......?!"
The woman before him flashed a beaming smile at his plight, then began to change.
Freckles faded. Skin tanned to brown, hair shimmering silver. Eyes shifted hue, pupils slitting vertically like a snake's or cat's.
But most telling: the curved horns sprouting from either side of her head, ram-like, marking her as a demonkin.
"D-Demon... Impossible... How...?"
Decades ago, Emilia's father Edgar Edenberts had shattered the Demon King's egg on the verge of hatching with his holy sword. Demons hadn't emerged from their lands since.
So why was one here?!
"Come on, grab him."
Clap clap.
"Wha—Guh?!"
Thud!
Stunned by the sudden chain of events, Terry hit the floor, arm twisted behind him by overwhelming, inhuman strength. It was Mattis, the Silver-rank adventurer who'd recently transferred from another city.
"Wh-What the... You... Where'd you— No, what the fuck is this?! Let go!!"
"......"
"You bastard...!"
Mattis didn't respond. His eyes were lifeless as a corpse's, obeying his master like a zombie.
"No use~ He won't hear a word you say anymore~... Except mine."
And so, in the dead of night, Succubus Mona approached the downed Terry with a sultry smile. Her robe slipped off with a whisper, revealing a sleek, devilish tail gleaming like polished obsidian, swaying languidly.
Gazing at her powerless prey, she licked her candy-sweet lips with a red tongue, savoring the sight like a gourmet treat. To Terry—who'd only heard tales—this was the epitome of a succubus.