Is It Strange for a Succubus to Wear Clothes?

Chapter 9: The Beetle’s Egg Nest 1

Let me talk about Michelsen for a moment.

You might ask what’s so interesting about suddenly bringing up a taciturn middle-aged man.

Who is this guy, why is he here out of nowhere, and why isn’t he affected by my allure?

How dare a mere human resist my naked face as I hum a tune, without feeling overwhelmed and offering his soul?

Hmm, yes, those are perfectly reasonable questions.

No?

You’ve never wondered about it?

That can’t be.

Anyway, to summarize, poor Michelsen is a man who lost everyone he loved.

‘That’s why he can look at my bare face and remain indifferent.’

Losing his wife and daughter, more precious than life itself, all at once, is undoubtedly tragic and sorrowful.

You might ask if everyone who loses their family is immune to my allure, but the circumstances of Michelsen losing his wife and child weren’t ordinary accidents or homicides.

Michelsen was originally a high-ranking Hunter from Denmark.

He was one of the first-generation Hunters who fought against all kinds of abnormal phenomena and monsters, even before a proper awakened ranking system was established.

His wife was also a first-generation Hunter, but the problem was that these first-generation Hunters fought so diligently that a significant number of nations remained intact because of them.

And governments hate uncontrollable elements.

‘Especially beings like me—they absolutely despise us.’

Hunters in the early days were individuals who wielded unprecedented power called mana, capable of defeating armies alone.

During the early Rift era, governments worldwide went to extreme lengths to regulate, control, and suppress Hunters and the awakened, tightening their leash by any means necessary.

Armies couldn’t kill monsters, but awakened individuals could.

Yet, the military and humans could threaten and kill the awakened and their families.

As soon as the immediate crisis was overcome, governments and the UN drafted countless unheard-of laws to strip Hunters of their rights.

Government agencies held awakened individuals’ families hostage, seized their bank accounts and property, and as a result, many Hunters were forced to obey state orders like dogs.

‘Although the dynamic has reversed nowadays….’

Anyway, even in such harsh and difficult times, Michelsen was someone who quietly fought to protect people.

A noble and extraordinary person.

I could never have done it.

After all, everyone values their own safety above all else.

But Michelsen managed to do it, driven by nothing but the determination to protect ordinary, everyday people.

‘Even though he’s aged a bit now, he still looks sculpted. With such a noble heart, his marriage must’ve been the epitome of lovebirds and a picture-perfect couple.’

And in return for all that, the EU, including Denmark, killed Michelsen’s wife and child.

Ahaha.

How amusing.

I couldn’t hold back my laughter when I heard that story.

Not just because of me, but because this poor man didn’t just lose himself—he lost his wife and child, too.

Of course, even if it’s funny, I mustn’t show it.

If I laughed, the man might genuinely despise or hate me, and I’d rather avoid that.

I actually like this guy, you see.

Not in a romantic sense, of course.

But for some reason, even I don’t know the exact details of how his wife and child died.

Michelsen didn’t explain it in detail, and I had no intention of asking.

I’m curious, but not curious enough to ask directly.

Well, whatever the circumstances, the conclusion is that he lost the people he loved most to human hands.

If they had died in a monster attack or a disaster, he might have become an avenger and remained a Hunter protecting humanity.

But because he lost his wife and child to other humans, he lost the ability to love people, which ultimately led both him and me to where we are now.

A man who can no longer love and feels no trace of beauty in the world.

And before him, a beautiful me.

Doesn’t it seem like a perfect combination?

Succubi, in the end, are a species that seduces through love in one form or another.

If someone has lost the ability to love entirely and has a gaping hole in their soul, there’s nothing for us to captivate.

Well….

If I made up my mind, I could allure him, but I’m not like other ordinary succubi obsessed with lust, so there’s no reason to do that.

Watching this wounded, pitiful man quietly wipe cocktail glasses is already an extraordinary sight for me.

“Sigh. I’m getting drunk.”

Thanks to that, I enjoy coming here.

To be precise, I enjoy coming to this bar run by this poor man.

Even if I reveal my bare face, get tipsy in a good mood, and hum a tune, there’s no one to bother me here.

In his resignation to beauty, this poor middle-aged man’s soul is marked by that gaping hole in his heart.

How could I ruin such a precious place where I can spend comfortable and peaceful time?

“…Seems like you’re in a good mood.”

“Hehe, I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things since dawn.”

And also because I saw you, living on despite everything, poor man.

That’s why I’m in a good mood.

“What did you see?”

“Under the night sky, the sea opened up, the morning sunlight caressed my cheeks, and just as I left home, I saw something so daft and adorable—how could I not be in a good mood?”

“…I see.”

And there’s the fun of watching a pitiful and sorrowful man with a hole in his chest.

It’s also quite something to see him faintly smile at the sound of my song, despite having lost the meaning of life after losing his family.

“By the way, you must be in a good mood today too. With no customers in this bar, a beauty like me has graced your presence and even sung a song for you. It’s like winning the lottery, isn’t it?”

“Don’t tempt a man who has lost his wife and child so carelessly. Don’t play tricks with that face of yours, either.”

“Oh my, oh my. With a face like Michelsen’s, he’s actually quite my type. I prefer this to the baby-faced boy band idols, you know?”

“Not that he has any intention of opening his heart.”

“That’s true.”

It might be unpleasant or unfortunate for him, but for me, seeing a middle-aged man—handsome enough to outshine most actors—who has lost his family and bears a hole in his heart is the epitome of my taste.

The fragile image of someone who wants to die right this moment but holds on, unable to pass on because that’s not what his family in the other world would want.

To me, that is a breathtaking sight.

Is this what it feels like to see Mount Geumgang in autumn for the first time?

I do strive for beauty, but it seems I truly am a demon at heart.

Oh, and of course, the sound of this pitiful middle-aged man pouring scotch into a glass is also delightful.

“LaLaaLadidiLaa♩”

Without realizing it, I keep humming.

Thanks to my continuous humming, this bar must now be filled with the scent of allure and beauty.

If an ordinary person walked in, wouldn’t they fall into a trance, unaware of the source of their fascination?

Even so, a drink and a song.

It’s a fair trade for both me and Michelsen.

And for that poor man, my song must be his only solace in life.

The only time his lifeless face regains a trace of vitality is when my melody graces his ears.

“It’s not much in exchange for the song, but there’s an auction tonight.”

“Oh?”

The mention snapped me out of the drunken haze of alcohol and ambiance.

“It’s tonight.”

An auction!

Not the kind where confiscated goods are sold in a legal courtroom auction.

As I mentioned before, Mapo-gu isn’t exactly a safe place these days.

Abandoned gates and dungeons are scattered all over, and instead of reclaiming or restoring the area, the government decided to merely control the zone and minimize losses.

As a result, all sorts of criminal organizations, illegal elements, and penniless illegal awakened individuals who couldn’t afford to emigrate have gathered here.

Naturally, the economy of criminals and people living in the illegal underworld revolves around illegal goods.

All sorts of smuggled items, drugs, illegal weapons, forbidden potions, and even human trafficking run rampant.

It’s also a place where you can find quite a few rare items you’d never see at a government-run legal Hunter market.

“Thank you. Oh, it’s been a while since I used the ‘backdoor,’ hasn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

Here, the backdoor doesn’t refer to the rear exit of the bar but the passage leading down to the underground world where the auction takes place.

I savored the scent of the scotch, downed my glass, and grabbed my parasol before heading to the backdoor.

Even then, he didn’t spare me a single glance as I got up.

“Care to join me? Fragile and delicate as I am, I’m too scared to descend into this dark world alone.”

“….”

“Oh dear, how heartless. You can’t even spare a moment for a delicate woman. Such cruelty.”

“Even in a world like this, there’s still much that doesn’t exist. Like proper social justice or your so-called fragility.”

“Hehe, your jokes are still so dull.”

“Sorry my jokes are as cheap and unamusing as they are, unlike your beauty.”

“I didn’t say it was that bad.”

It seems he doesn’t intend to follow me today.

Last time, he secretly tailed me out of concern—though he probably thinks I didn’t notice.

“Well then, I’ll be off. If I don’t come back, leave a flower at my grave, will you?”

“Your jokes are so amusing.”

You say that without even smiling—it feels like you’re mocking me indirectly.

How entertaining.

But seriously, when I think about it, it feels really unpleasant.

Even though I’m right in front of him, smiling so brightly, he doesn’t even properly look at me, let alone fall for my allure.

Of course, I have absolutely no romantic interest in him, nor would I consider dating him even if he were captivated by me.

But still, I’m me.

Aren’t I beautiful?

Beautiful enough to fill the hole in his heart completely?

“Hmph, it’s honestly starting to annoy me that he isn’t even remotely charmed.”

I bet he wouldn’t even be this indifferent to a nameless wildflower on the street.

‘Could it be that Michelsen finds wildflowers more beautiful than me? At least wildflowers can be placed on the graves of his wife and child.’

Ah, that really upsets me.

Somehow, I feel like he might actually do that.

To think that I’d lose to something as insignificant as a wildflower in his eyes.

But even if I won against that wildflower, would it even make me happy?

“Ugh, just imagining it puts me in a bad mood….”

Why does everything about this feel so unpleasant?

That man is truly terrible.

How can he make me feel so bad no matter what I imagine?