Chapter 3 — The Watcher
The Royal Palace Annex was as shabby as I'd expected. I'd heard that the Hero Hall where the other summoned heroes were housed was luxurious, with red carpets, gold leaf decorations, and even dedicated maids. In contrast, what they gave me was a dusty one-room unit. It was a two-story stone building plastered right up against the outer wall on the west end of the palace. The first floor had a communal dining hall and laundry for the servants, and the second floor held small rooms. My room was at the very end of the second-floor hallway, like an attic right under the eaves.
Creeeak. As I opened the door, a musty smell hit me full force. Dust floated hazily in the air, and spiderwebs tangled in the corners.
"I'm supposed to sleep here?"
The bed squealed eeeek the moment I lay down. The window was crooked, the walls stained. The wooden floorboards groaned creak, creak with every step.
Still, I had no complaints. If anything, I was satisfied. Being out of sight meant lax surveillance. If I'd been in the Hero Hall, I'd be under the maids' watchful eyes, the knights' monitoring, the nobles' scrutiny. Every move would be reported.
No one gave a damn about this rundown annex in the corner.
I brushed off the dust roughly and opened the window. Screeech—the rusty hinges wailed. The rooftops of the Capital City stretched out below. Surprisingly, the view wasn't bad.
As I set down my luggage, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Thud, thud, thud. Steady rhythm. Trained gait. The walk of a warrior.
And then my door flew open with a bang. No knock.
"You? The fifth summoned one?"
It was a woman. Tanned skin. Black hair with panther ears poking up stiffly. A long black tail swaying lazily side to side behind her.
A beastkin. So this world had them too.
Panther ears, tail, tanned skin. Fuck, that was a killer combo that got my dick twitching.
She was about my height, but her exposed arms were sharply muscled. A warrior's build. And yet, her figure was unmistakably feminine. Mature curves pressed clearly against her armor. The breastplate bulged out—had to be at least D-cup. Sweat beaded on her tanned skin, her breathing a touch ragged. She'd come straight from training, probably.
Her golden slit-pupiled eyes scanned me up and down. Contempt poured out unfiltered. Her pupils narrowed vertically, just like a feline predator.
I studied those eyes. What lay beneath the disdain? Not anger.
Irritation. Displeasure at the duty foisted on her. The face of an office worker stuck with unwanted busywork.
"Ka ira. Black panther beastkin. Kingdom Knight Order."
Short self-introduction. Her voice was low and sharp.
"Starting today, I'm your surveillance officer."
"Surveillance officer?"
"Her Majesty the Queen's orders. 'Watch the mental-type summoner to make sure he doesn't do anything dangerous.' If you pull anything suspicious, I cut your head off."
"...That does sound like a threat."
"Not a threat. Fact."
Ka ira curled her lip, baring a fang. Sharp teeth. Teeth that could really sever a neck.
I smiled. A sunless smile. Harmless, like a gentle lamb.
"Looking forward to working with you, Miss Ka ira."
"Miss my ass."
Ka ira scoffed—hmph. Her panther ears flicked back slightly. Sign of displeasure. Her tail went rigid, then quivered.
Her whole body was an emotional billboard, this woman.
"Me, a rising star in the Knight Order, stuck on this crap duty. If your skill had been halfway useful, I wouldn't be humiliated like this."
Humiliated. Being assigned to me was humiliation in itself. I could imagine the whispers among the other knights.
'Ka ira's playing guard dog for trash.'
'She's babysitting a wimpy summoner.'
I could use that shame. Shame breeds anger and loneliness. Lonely women are easy to fuck.
That's a universal truth. If I'm the only man a shamed, isolated woman interacts with? Her loneliness naturally turns to me.
'Bonding through isolation'—straight out of the psych textbook.
"Sorry you got stuck with this."
"If you're sorry, hole up quietly. Don't wander. Don't cause trouble. That's all you can do for me."
"Can I at least go down to the dining hall?"
"You gotta eat."
"What about the library?"
"Library?"
Ka ira scoffed again.
"You mean the dusty storage closet shoved in the corner of the first floor?"
"If there's books in it, it's a library to me."
"Do whatever. I don't care what you read."
She crossed her arms, and her tits pushed up against the armor. This woman's got bigger boobs than I thought. The plate mail was hiding them. Tanned mammaries... Down, dick. This bitch can take my head.
Her golden eyes swept the room, wrinkling her nose at the squalor.
"Hmph. Suits your level perfectly."
Harsh words, but I didn't flinch. Instead, I observed her patterns. Spouting venom but still checking the room's state. If she were truly indifferent, she wouldn't peek inside. Meant she had a sense of duty.
And women with strong duty crumble all the way once they break.
Ka ira turned to leave, then paused. She sniffed, nostrils flaring. Panther ears perked up.
"...Smells weird."
"Pardon?"
"The scent from mental-type mages. Sweet but creepy."
"My smell's weird?"
"Beastkin noses don't lie. I don't like you, summoner."
Interesting. Mental magic manifesting as a physical scent was an unexpected variable. Did beastkin senses convert magical waves into smell?
Key intel. Vital intel. Commit to memory.
"Could you call me by name? Kang Do-hyun."
"Don't need to."
Ka ira stormed out. Her tail smacked the doorframe—didn't care. Thud, thud, thud—footsteps faded down the hall.
I stared at the closed door and began analyzing.
Beastkin. Keen sense of smell. Panther ears and tail. Tanned skin, golden eyes.
Recall the Archmage's brief post-summoning rundown. Beastkin had strong wild instincts, resistant to mental interference.
But 'resistant' wasn't 'immune.' That gap was key.
Resistance meant, conversely, sufficient stimulus could overcome it.
And beastkin have mating seasons.
A throwaway line from the Archmage. Rational judgment drops sharply then.
Must verify later. Definitely.
For now, intel gathering.
Outside, a group of knights marched toward the training grounds. Thud, thud, thud. Armor clanged rhythmically. One bellowed—a familiar voice.
"Again! Straighten your stance!"
Ka ira, drilling underlings. Strong woman. Skilled, positioned well, full of pride.
Now suffering the insult of 'trash surveillance duty.'
Where would that humiliation flow? Anger at superiors? Contempt for me? Self-shame?
Didn't matter. Any path was psychologically exploitable.
Reading the flow is step one to hypnosis.
Afternoon. Found the annex's little library. First floor, east corner. A weathered sign read 'Archive Room.'
Screeech—the door wailed on rusty hinges.
Three bookshelves buried in dust and webs, but plenty of books. Histories, magic theory, continental geography. Outdated copies dumped from the palace library.
I sat at the desk and started reading. The rustle of parchment filled the quiet room.
First find: a book on the magic system.
Fire (火), Water (水), Wind (風), Earth (地), Lightning (雷), Holy (聖).
These six elements are the sanctioned magics. Tens of thousands of mages per element, systematically trained at academies.
Mage ranks: 1 to 9.
And the taboo element. Mental (精神).
Explanations of mental magic were brutally short. Every sentence hammered 'taboo,' 'dangerous,' 'execution.'
The three words cycled like a mantra. Felt like reading my own skill description as an epitaph.
Three hundred years ago, a man appeared on the Belcross Continent. A genius of mental magic.
Initially rejected. Mental magic dismissed as useless in direct combat. Academies and mage guilds turned him away.
But he found another path. Records say Baltor first approached a border lord, exploiting his worries to gain trust.
From that lord to higher nobles... to the king. He manipulated the monarch's mind.
Twisted generals' loyalties. Warped the saintess's faith.
Without a single war, he seized half the continent.
"Eventually, hundreds of thousands moved at his single word."
My heart pounded.
Baltor's core technique seemed 'crowd hypnosis.' Control a key figure, spread influence through them.
Matched modern psychology's 'emotional contagion' theory perfectly.
Mental magic isn't taboo because it's weak. Because it's too strong.
The Mental Emperor fell to a united force of six 9th-rank mages from the six elements. Only then did he go down.
After, mental magic banned continent-wide. Instant execution on discovery. All texts burned. Lineage severed.
No mental mages recorded in 300 years.
Instant execution...
I closed the book. Poof—dust flew.
Closed my eyes, organized thoughts.
One: Never let this power slip. Discovery means decapitation.
Two: But this power could be the world's most dangerous and potent force.
Three: These people have no concept of mental defense. 300 years of severance left them wide open.
Vulnerable. Everyone in this world is completely defenseless against mental interference.
A virus carrier in a vaccine-free world.
"Even a Lv.1 Whisper..."
Combined with modern psych techniques. Accessing deep desires via hypnosis induction.
Just a matter of time before the floodgates open.
My eyes gleamed in the dark.
Left the library, walked the creaky halls. Creak, creak.
Back to my room, opened the window. Screeech.
The capital's night view unfolded. A city of tens of thousands. All oblivious to mental interference.
Slowly. No rushing.
Tomorrow, test Mental Interference Lv.1 - Whisper. Conditions for max effect? Who it's strongest on?
Control variables one by one, gather data. Scientific method.
Hypothesis, experiment, observation, record, analysis.
I'll show this world what happens when a psych grad studies magic.
One more thing. Test Whisper on myself.
Lit a candle, sat in the chair. Flame flickered, casting shadows on the wall. Crackle—the wick burned.
Target: me.
Focused inward. Can Whisper activate on self?
Relaxed. Muscles loosening.
Shhh. Subtle, but real. Shoulder stiffness eased. Breathing slowed a beat.
"Self-hypnosis induction works."
Ericksonian self-hypnosis boosts focus and learning. If Whisper gets me there, I absorb this world's knowledge faster.
Then another thought. Risky, but science demands boldness.
Aroused. Dick getting hard.
Shhh. Down there, reaction. Cock twitched, tenting my pants.
Self-suggestion controls erection? Was that why magic flowed to my dick during skill grant?
Conversely, proof it can induce sexual arousal in women.
Arouse via whisper triggers sensory response? Even weak, repeated?
Bit by bit, floodgates open?
The candle flickered wildly. Wind outside? Screeech—window rattled.
Pulled out my notebook—parchment swiped from the library, ink scarce. But records are research basics. Write every observation. No data, no hypothesis.
Self-hypnosis success. Self-suggestion induced erection success. Skill radius applies to self.
Hypothesis: Can induce sexual arousal in others. Effect amplified if baseline affinity exists.
Paused before the next line. If found, instant execution bait.
Wrote in Korean, but palace mages might have decryption spells.
Rolled the parchment tight, hid it under the bed's darkest corner. One floorboard lifts slightly—gap beneath. No one suspects.
Locals probably stash stuff there too.
"This dick's the weapon to conquer this world's MILFs."
Whisper is the trigger. This cock's the bullet.
Together, no woman escapes my grasp.
Queen Elena. Black panther beastkin Ka ira. This world's ripe MILFs await me.
Lv.1 loser skill for now, but someday I'll stride from this dusty hole to the palace heart.
Until then, I'll sharpen my blade in this corner room.
Razor fucking sharp.