Is It Strange for a Succubus to Wear Clothes?

Chapter 2: The Succubus Empress Takes Out Her Suit

“Observation of the Night Sea, 20 minutes remaining!”

“We will begin the countdown in 10 minutes.”

“All esteemed guests, please take your seats!”

The guest area was bustling.

Unlike usual events, where only public hunters participated, today’s gathering had to accommodate so-called “high-ranking individuals” who dragged their weighty selves to witness the event.

These individuals were not ordinary civil servants.

They were state-designated hunters or awakened beings assigned to national duties—precious talents who wouldn’t typically be ignored wherever they went.

Although they bore the title of “public servants,” carrying a certain degree of honor and a reasonably good salary, today, worry and anxiety were etched on all their faces.

After all, today was the day of the Night Sea phenomenon.

A day of unknown dangers, made even more nerve-wracking by the unusually large number of high-ranking officials insisting on observing it firsthand.

“Protection rituals, check complete!”

“Physical protection, complete. Mental protection, complete. Erosion protection, complete. No issues detected!”

“Double-check everything! Especially the guest seats!”

Scenes of supervisors scolding lower-level civil servants and awakened beings unfolded everywhere.

The Night Sea was a phenomenon where the sky tore open, unleashing things not of this world onto Earth.

To put it simply, the sky would split, and objects resembling stars would fall randomly onto Earth.

However, the outcome of the phenomenon varied each time, and the identity of the falling entities was entirely unpredictable.

Naturally, what poured from the Night Sea onto Earth often included new dungeons, gates, swarms of monsters, and countless other dangerous elements.

Even after the Great Rift of 2030, it remained the primary cause of terror worldwide.

But that was a concern for ordinary, powerless civilians.

The Night Sea also brought more than just new monsters—it introduced unknown natural resources, mysterious artifacts of alien civilizations, and even vast, ownerless territories.

While it came with risks, it was also a golden opportunity—a new frontier brimming with untapped wealth.

For large corporations and hunters, the Night Sea was a chance to discover new revenue streams and uncharted lands.

The phenomenon had even revived economies, boosted government approval ratings, and secured re-elections for politicians.

Thus, for governments, the Night Sea was a monumental event they couldn’t afford to overlook.

Of course, the randomness of the phenomenon meant that sometimes nothing significant would emerge. But there was always the possibility of something so dangerous it was beyond control. Yet, high-ranking individuals remained ever complacent, their confidence baseless and naive.

“It’ll probably be fine.”

“Out of ten occurrences of the Night Sea, only three or four yield dangerous monsters, right?”

“If my name gets listed in a resource development project for this, my re-election is guaranteed.”

“Oh, the guest area is splendidly prepared. Drinks, too… There won’t be any cameras, right?”

“Even if something happens, the hunters will take care of it.”

This Night Sea was no exception; such figures inevitably showed up.

Presidents looking to boost declining approval ratings, ruling party politicians, or rising political stars eager to maintain their momentum—they all came to personally observe the Night Sea.

While lower-ranking staff and hunters were left to bear the brunt, the high-ranking officials enjoyed the prestige of being there, acting as though they were leading an expedition to an uncharted continent.

These activities inflated their reputations, providing leverage for debates or hearings later on: “I personally oversaw the Night Sea! What about you?”

Politicians, university professors, and even famous corporate leaders often turned their Night Sea visits into credentials or honorary achievements.

In reality, all they did was lounge in the heavily protected guest area, sipping drinks and chatting.

When the Night Sea opened, they would casually glance at the view through the guest area windows, drink some more, and eventually get carried home by their aides when they were thoroughly drunk.

This would leave behind bold records in their careers: [Direct Observation of the Night Sea] and [On-Site Leadership of the Night Sea Event].

Wasn’t it dangerous?

Of course, it was.

The Night Sea was unpredictable by nature; no one knew when, where, or what might descend upon Earth.

While preliminary signs allowed for some predictions, these forecasts were not absolutely reliable.

“Didn’t the association rate the Night Sea’s danger level as moderate this time?”

“If it’s moderate, nothing major will happen.”

“Even if something dangerous appears, it’ll just be a few monsters at most.”

“With hunters from major guilds and megacorporations here, we’ll be fine.”

If field hunters heard such remarks, they’d likely foam at the mouth, ready to lecture about the peculiarities and anomalies of high-risk monsters for hours.

But the high-ranking officials would never listen.

After all, the number of hunters and civilians who had perished due to “moderate” danger levels in the past was staggering.

Though evacuation systems, warnings, and the capabilities of hunters and awakened beings had improved since then, the risks associated with the Night Sea still couldn’t be underestimated.

“Sigh, both ruling and opposition party lawmakers are here, even the Minister of Land and Treasury.”

“Seriously, when those high-ranking officials come, it’s always the lower ranks who pay the price.”

“They didn’t come last time when the danger level was ‘high.’ But today, they all show up.”

Understandably, the civil servants tasked with escorting these high-ranking officials would feel frustrated and angry.

By regulation, the Night Sea was off-limits to civilians and should only involve trained hunters and awakened beings, prepared for defense and containment.

While the sight of lights falling like shooting stars across the night sky was mesmerizing, no one knew if those lights were calamities, new frontiers, or unknown resources.

If the falling light turned out to be an ultra-high-risk monster or a warped dungeon, evacuation alerts would immediately be issued, and hunters would activate electromagnetic nets, protection rituals, and barriers to hunt or contain the threats.

But what about on days when there were many high-ranking officials present?

“Oh, Chief Lee, it’s been a while. Everything ready?”

“Yes, Congressman! We’ve double-checked the protection rituals for the guest area! The journalists will also remain confined to their designated areas, so you needn’t worry!”

“Ha-ha, good. Take it easy.”

“We’ve also prepared suitable refreshments for everyone at their seats. You don’t have to worry about photos or eavesdropping.”

“Ho-ho, excellent. Good work.”

“Oh, this fellow is very thorough, isn’t he?”

“Ha-ha-ha! He’s one of my favorites. He even prepared for the dungeon visit during the aptitude notification event.”

“Ah, I remember that visit. It left quite an impression.”

“Well, shall we head in, Congressmen?”

This was the kind of nonsense that occurred.

Supervisors who barked orders at their subordinates would bow deeply to suit-wearing individuals with parliamentary badges, making the field workers frown in unison.

“Sigh…”

Among the oppressed lower ranks was Senior Officer Dan Ahyeon, a sixth-grade civil servant and awakened being.

Her unfortunate role placed her squarely between the high-ranking officials and the subordinates, forcing her to endure twice the hardships.

Fortunately, her tasks were straightforward.

She simply had to follow the supervisor’s orders, ensure that lower-ranking public hunters re-checked the protection rituals, and keep an eye out for potential dangers.

However, given the inherently chaotic nature of the Night Sea, the ideal setup was a defense or containment operation exclusively involving hunters, with no civilians to protect.

Yet…

“Why on earth do they insist on bending the rules to observe this event? Who knows what might happen…”

In the end, I couldn’t understand why these high-ranking people insisted on observing, nor what they planned to do if something truly terrible happened.

Dan Ahyeon let out a deep sigh and looked up at the “crack” in the night sky.

‘I wonder what will come out of there. I hope it ends quietly and safely, with something harmless like a floating island appearing.’

“Senior Officer, we’ve completed the check.”

At the report of an awakened civil servant, Dan Ahyeon met their gaze, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Both of them were equally steeped in fatigue, but for some reason, the civil servant seemed to regard Dan Ahyeon with even greater pity.

“Oh, right. Good work. Everyone, go back to your stations and stand by.”

“What about the lawmakers…?”

“Sigh… I’ll keep an eye on them, so don’t worry.”

This situation was understandable.

Dan Ahyeon was, at the very least, a high-ranking awakened being equivalent to an A-rank hunter.

However, since before the Great Rift, she had been living on a civil servant’s salary, and when the world changed after the Rift, the Korean government enacted an absurd law forbidding awakened civil servants from resigning.

‘If you refuse, you’ll be punished like a deserter, sanctioned, and have your social reputation ruined?’

Some dismissed it as nonsense and emigrated, but for Dan Ahyeon, who had a family and needed stable income, staying as a state-designated awakened civil servant was her only option.

Her salary had improved somewhat, but compared to an A-rank hunter in the private sector, who could rake in billions by themselves, her position was like that of a conscripted soldier barely earning minimum wage.

It wasn’t surprising that lower-level civil servants felt sorry for her, especially as she was crushed by the responsibilities of escorting the high-ranking officials.

“Understood. Please take care, Senior Officer.”

“Yes, you all take care too… Oh, I stocked the base freezer with ice cream. Take one and enjoy it.”

“Thank you very much.”

But what could be done?

Reality wouldn’t change.

As the highest-ranking awakened civil servant, Dan Ahyeon was responsible for ensuring the lawmakers’ safety.

She absentmindedly traced patterns in the sand with the tip of her shoe.

Circles and swirls, formless and random.

Then, she glanced at her dark-circled eyes in a handheld mirror, sighed, and clasped her hands behind her back, standing guard in front of the guest area.

The so-called guest area felt more like a portable restaurant, heavily fortified with protective rituals.

‘I hope something beneficial for the country and us comes out of this Night Sea.’

‘Oh, what a lovely view.’

‘I heard the Night Sea is much more beautiful than the aurora. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Have you seen an aurora before?’

‘Haha, yes. While traveling overseas, I had the chance to see one while playing golf.’

‘Next time, could I join you?’

‘But you two are from different parties, aren’t you?’

‘What does that matter? We’re all members of the National Assembly of the Republic of Korea.’

‘Haha, I appreciate your generosity.’

‘Now, let’s save the idle chatter for later and raise our glasses, shall we?’

‘Haha! Absolutely! Let me pour first, Congressman.’

Thanks to her overly heightened senses as an awakened being, Dan Ahyeon could clearly hear the voices of the high-ranking officials chattering inside the guest area.

It seemed like they were already starting a drinking party.

What a bunch of pricks.

‘When I get home, I’ll order chicken. I had garlic last time, so maybe spicy this time… No, spicy might be too much. But I kind of want something fiery. Stress relief… Maybe I’ll try that fire chicken? Oh, and they released a mint chocolate chicken too….’

Even so, Dan Ahyeon dreamed of her own version of happiness.

Finishing work, enjoying a delicious meal at home, and watching variety show clips—these were some of her few joys in life.

The Night Sea phenomenon wasn’t particularly long, so if luck was on her side and the observation session ended smoothly, she could be home within an hour.

The post-event cleanup was the job of lower-level civil servants.

As for investigating the Night Sea, that was a task for the guilds or hunters hired for the job.

Unless a high-risk entity immediately emerged when the sky opened, it would likely be fine.

‘Surely, there won’t be an S-rank monster as soon as the Night Sea opens, right?’

As long as an S-rank monster didn’t appear, everything should be fine.

She had spent two sleepless nights preparing protective rituals for the guest area, after all.

While S-rank monsters were powerful, there were other major guilds on standby nearby.

Ah, whatever.

“The Night Sea is imminent!”

“The Night Sea is approaching!”

“All hunters, take your designated positions!”

“All guests, please remain in your seats!”

Surely.

Surely, everything would be fine.

Surely, nothing significant would happen.

Thinking this, she watched as the night sky opened.

The sky split, like the parting of the Red Sea, and brilliant stars and lights began to descend onto the Earth.

The sight was breathtaking, filling all who witnessed it with awe and wonder.

But those lights seemed to whisper.

…Life never goes as you expect.

—S-rank alert! S-rank alert!

—All hunters, prepare for combat immediately!

—Spatial contamination detected! Spatial contamination detected!

“…Sigh.”

Dan Ahyeon let out a single, exasperated breath.

Damn it.

Why does it always end up like this?

At least the preparations had been thorough.

With state-designated hunters drilled relentlessly into defensive and containment formations, most things could be handled.

But for an S-rank high-risk entity to appear?

That was absurd.

“All units, prepare for combat!”

At Dan Ahyeon’s weary command, all state-designated hunters immediately activated their protection rituals and assumed combat positions.

And just like that, the supervisor was nowhere to be found.

Ah, so the rumors were true.

That supervisor wasn’t even an awakened being—just a nepotistic parachute hire.

Yet, it was quiet.

Despite the alert, nothing seemed to be emerging.

The Night Sea continued to pour down stars and light like the Milky Way, and even with the S-rank alert, the rituals held steady.

“Why is it so quiet?”

“Could it have appeared somewhere else?”

“No. If a high-risk entity appeared, it would be concentrated here. We even set up luring rituals.”

As a few awakened civil servants muttered among themselves, Dan Ahyeon silenced them and focused her mana into her eyes, staring intently at the sky.

And then.

—Blink.

“…!”

Her eyes.

Eyes.

Eyes.

Eyes were visible.

Large pupils.

Countless eyes.

Sensing this, Dan Ahyeon immediately shouted.

“Everyone, close your eyes!”

No one questioned Dan Ahyeon’s command.

All the lower-level awakened beings immediately closed their eyes and tensed their bodies.

“…The Old Lamb.”

The creature’s name was the Old Lamb.

First discovered in the Swiss Alps, this creature, approximately 4 meters tall and shaped like a quadruped beast, bore no resemblance to a lamb despite its name.

It had no fur, its skin was thin and translucent, giving it a grotesque, flayed appearance.

Its most distinctive features were its countless grotesque eyes embedded across its body and its regeneration ability that allowed it to recover even from bomb attacks.

Typically, it had about 80 eyes, but despite this, it had no actual vision.

It floated aimlessly in the sky, occasionally crashing into high mountain peaks before drifting away again for no apparent reason.

At first glance, it seemed harmless.

However, the Old Lamb was an S-rank hazardous entity due to one particular trait.

If its eyes made contact with another living being within a certain range, it would immediately become enraged, entering a berserk state and generating countless chunks of flesh from its body.

These flesh chunks would take on forms resembling the Old Lamb, each with its own set of dangers.

There were small, fist-sized creatures with oval faces and four legs, called Young Lambs, that fed primarily on infants.

These Young Lambs would evolve into floating, tentacle-laden, spiky masses of flesh.

Eventually, clusters of these floating flesh masses would merge to form a subordinate entity called the Young Ram.

Unlike the Old Lamb, the Young Ram actively hunted humans.

All forms, including the Old Lamb, could regenerate any injury, making them virtually unkillable unless they were entirely frozen or incinerated.

An entire city in the Mediterranean was reportedly wiped out because of just one Old Lamb.

However, dealing with it was straightforward.

“It’s the Old Lamb! Never make eye contact!”

“Yes!”

As long as you didn’t meet its gaze, it was fine.

Dan Ahyeon quickly ordered the guest room windows to be covered and issued commands to the other public hunters.

No one understood why a creature with nearly no eyesight was so sensitive to the gaze of others.

Perhaps the Old Lamb, with its many non-functional eyes, envied humans with functioning vision.

Whatever the reason, as long as no one made eye contact within its range, it wouldn’t react.

If left undisturbed, the Old Lamb would eventually float away.

Once it reached a safe distance, they could request a long-range magical bombardment to incinerate it.

‘I’m so glad we set up luring rituals far from the city…!’

If the Night Sea observation had been held near a city, even one civilian making eye contact with the Old Lamb could have resulted in a catastrophe.

And so, slowly.

In a quiet, tense silence, time passed.

The Old Lamb blinked its massive eyes as it floated in the sky, ready to leave the area without incident.

Just a little longer.

A little longer, and it would be over.

Just a little more patience…

“Well, now. Hmm? What’s going on?”

At that moment, a lawmaker from the guest room, unable to contain his curiosity, poked his head out.

Ah.

“No, stop!!”

But before Dan Ahyeon could scream.

Before she could knock the lawmaker unconscious, his eyes met something.

The eyes in the sky.

The eyes of the Lamb.

The eyes of a cow.

The eyes of a goat.

Eyes.

Those eyes met the eyes of a nameless lawmaker on Earth.

That was enough.

Enough to draw the grotesque entity’s attention to the ground.

[—Meeeeehhhhh!]

The creature, resembling nothing like a lamb, let out a sheep’s cry.

The Lamb was jealous.

The Old Lamb.

The sorrowful Lamb, with countless eyes yet no vision, screamed its heart out.

“F***ing hell!”

“Who looked at it!?”

“We’re screwed!”

“Everyone, prepare for battle!”

As countless chunks of flesh began falling from the sky, Dan Ahyeon helplessly looked at the lawmaker who had stepped outside.

“Well, uh… What on Earth is happening? Is it safe? You there, explain yourself!”

“…”

Dan Ahyeon wanted to cry.