Succumania

The Hatman exhaled sharply, a ragged "Phew… that was a close one," escaping him as he slumped into the creaky chair behind his desk. The gagged purple fox was still in the corner, glaring at him. 

"I almost died back there," he chuckled, looking at her while propping his broken arm up on the desk. "Imagine that. You would've been stuck here forever!"

Daji's eyes widened and she shook her head sharply. 

"Sucks, doesn't it?" he winced as he pulled a drawer from his desk and picked up some bandages. "She wrecked my arm too."

He began wrapping the bandages around his arm, hissing through clenched teeth as pain flared with each clumsy turn. Sweat beaded on his brow, but he kept at it, snipping the excess with a pair of rusty scissors he pulled from the desk.

"I'm not as durable as all of you monsters," he sighed, arranging the last bit of cloth sticking out under the wraps. "So I have to adapt."

"HMMM!"

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed. "I'm almost finished with all of my plans anyway. Which makes me wonder… Why isn't Niño aware that I'm back? It's like he isn't looking for me at all…"

He turned sharply to face the fox fully. "Do you think he is ignoring me?"

She shrugged with a glare.

"Yeah, I don't get it either…" he sighed, holding his chin up with his good arm. "It's like little dream doesn't want to tell him. I swear…"

The Hatman tapped his fingers rhythmically on the desk while looking at the ceiling. A single flickering bulb was providing light in this small room, casting shadows across the peeling white paint. 

"Still got you though," he murmured, turning over. "You remind me that I should revive his master. Would be fun to make him fight her, don't you think?"

Daji's eyes showed a deadpan, and he could hear a muffled sigh. 

"Hm, yeah, I should do that," he nodded, bringing his hat on his head. "I'm gonna take a little nap first. Then a little healing of his arm and I should be ready to go to China in a week or two."

In a matter of seconds, he fell into a deep slumber, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

In the house full of succubi…

It was the evening once more. However, the mood inside the house had drastically changed. 

The usual liveliness was gone. Conversations were sparse, and the occasional clatter of dishes or the flicker of a screen provided the only sounds to break the silence.

Morrigan sat in one corner with the imps, fingers clicking away on her game controller, but even the hyperactive little demons played with far less energy than usual. Across the room, Astaroth and Lilith sat at the table, playing cards. Their movements were slow, their minds clearly elsewhere.

Alma Elma stood at the sink, washing dishes with rhythmic motions, fulfilling her turn on the chore rotation. The faint clinking of plates against porcelain echoed through the room—too loud in the silence.

Succubus-chan sat hunched over her phone, scrolling through maps with surprising intensity—one of her odd hobbies that no one quite understood but had learned not to question.

Eva moved through the kitchen alongside the mayor, helping with the cleaning—a sight no one would have expected just weeks ago. But surprisingly, the succubus didn't mind as long as it was in there.

Vinum was in her room upstairs as usual.

Only Mayu was absent, tending to the garden outside alongside Yukari and Yui. The two remaining Nightmares had been brought into the house after everything that had transpired—on the Lilith Sisters' proposal. Better to keep them close, under watchful eyes, than to let them roam free.

And now, a week had passed since the incident. 

The only one missing, was Luka. 

"Has he come out to have dinner at least?" Eva asked, again, surprisingly caring. "Not eating is bad for your health, and I know what I'm saying."

"No, he hasn't come out," Alma Elma answered with a sigh while wiping a plate clean. "He's been holed up in his room ever since and rarely comes out."

"He should at least go outside," the mayor Succubus said with a worried look. "Some fresh air might do him some good."

Everyone fell silent. 

Luka wasn't the only one shaken by what had happened.

But he had taken it the hardest.

Morrigan clicked her tongue, tossing her controller onto the couch. "Tch. Someone should just drag him out. Sitting in the dark all day isn't gonna change anything."

"You're acting like it's that simple," Lilith muttered, shuffling the deck of cards absently. "But it's clear that he is depressed."

Another silence.

Even now, no one wanted to put it into words.

Because acknowledging it meant accepting a possibility they didn't want to happen. 

"Do you think he hates us?" Rami asked, completely oblivious.

"I don't think so…" Astaroth muttered. "At least he didn't throw us out."

"Perhaps because he doesn't think he can," Lilith added. "He might be scared of us now."

Morrigan scoffed, crossing her arms. "What, you think he's too scared to even talk to us? That's ridiculous. We're the ones who are scared of him now! Not that I am but…"

The room fell silent again and everyone sighed collectively. 

"Anyway," Lilith said, setting her cards down. "He can't stay up there forever. We need to drag him out."

Succubus-chan raised an eyebrow from her phone. "And how do you plan to do that? He barely comes out to eat."

Lilith smirked. "I've been working on an idea that might do the trick."

Alma Elma leaned against the counter, curious. "Oh? What idea?"

"A barbecue party," she announced with pride. "We're going to invite the whole neighborhood and throw a party so big, so loud, that he won't be able to ignore it."

Morrigan almost jumped with joy. "Oh yeah! This is going to be great!"

Astaroth tapped a finger against the table. "It's not the worst idea. Food, music, people… It might remind him of normal life again."

"How much food are we talking?" Eva shouted from the kitchen. 

"She only thinks of eating, doesn't she…" Lilith muttered. "A lot!"

"Hell yeah!" Eva shouted back, her enthusiasm palpable even from the other room.

The mood in the room shifted almost instantly. The idea of a party—a real, lively, chaotic party—was enough to lift their spirits, if only a little. For the first time in days, there was a sense of purpose, a goal to work toward.

Alma Elma chuckled, her playful smirk returning in full force. "Are the neighbors on the menu too?"

"Only within reason," Lilith replied, her voice firm but with a slight smirk of her own. "We don't want another reason for Luka to get angry. So have a bit of discipline."

The room erupted into laughter, the tension easing just a little. Even Morrigan, who had been unusually subdued, cracked a smile. "Discipline? From us? Good luck with that," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

As the laughter died down, Lilith clapped her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Alright, let's get to work. We've got a lot to do and not much time. Morrigan, you're on music duty. I want a playlist that'll get everyone on their feet."

"You got it," Morrigan said. "I'll invite the bros to help me with that!"

"Astaroth," Lilith turned toward her red-haired sister. "Can you take care of inviting the neighbors? We need to make sure everyone knows this is happening."

The succubus nodded with a smile. "Consider it already done."

"Succubus-chan," Lilith now turned to the quiet girl who had been scrolling through maps on her phone. "Is there anything you can do?"

She looked up from her phone, her eyes drifting upward as she thought for a moment. "I can take care of the decorations, I guess. But I'll need some help."

"We'll help!" Rami shouted, raising her hand excitedly. The other imps nodded vigorously, especially Rumi, who was practically bouncing with energy.

Lilith smiled, clearly pleased with the enthusiasm. "Good. Decorations are covered, then."

"I'll take care of the food with the mayor," Alma Elma announced, flashing a wink.

As the group continued to plan, Lilith glanced toward the hallway where Luka's room was. Her smirk softened into a more serious expression. "This has to work," she said, her voice quieter now. "We need him back. Not just for us, but for him too."

The others nodded, their earlier excitement slightly tempered by the seriousness of the situation. 

"What about the Nightmares?" Astaroth asked. "Should we ask them to do something?"

"At this point, they can only help with installing the tables and serving, I guess," Lilith shrugged. "They will help us in general depending on what they can do."

The mayor, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "Are they… angry? I mean, I haven't really talked to them since, well… everything."

Alma Elma sighed, drying her hands on a cloth. "I don't think they were that close to that girl," she said, referring to the fallen Nightmare. "But still… they avoid Luka's room like it's cursed. I don't think they've even gone upstairs since it happened."

"Mayu told me she felt strange as well," Succubus-chan chimed in. "But I don't think they're that angry."

A brief silence settled over them again. The party planning went well and now they all had a task. What was to come would come after.

"Okay, we will begin the preparations tomorrow," Lilith nodded. "We will see what happens later with the Nightmares. For now, let's focus on the party."

Everyone nodded, their eyes showing their resolve.

The following morning, preparations began.

Morrigan was in charge of music, spending the morning blasting different tracks through borrowed speakers from the Lilith Bros who were also invited. Since they knew more about partying, the recommended different tracks and debated over the perfect playlist.

Succubus-chan, Rami, Rumi, Remi, and even Yui the Nightmare imp had turned the backyard into a place filled with ribbons and colorful balloons bought by Lilith in advance. Using the tables from the living room and the kitchen, they set up a massive table in the center of the garden, soon to be filled with food.

Alma Elma and the mayor were handling the food situation. The grill was fired up, the scent of sizzling meat already filling the air. Eva was put at bay by some of the Lilith Bros who took care of protecting the food.

Mayu and Yukari were busy moving chairs but they kept to themselves, moving in silence. They worked without complaint, but there was a tension in their shoulders, a stiffness in their movements. Even as the others laughed and argued, the two remained distant.

Finally, Astaroth was making a tour throughout the neighborhood, and so far, she had a good number of people willing to come. Dressed in a black robe and high heels, she made sure to look a bit proper for the party. 

After a while, she arrived at an unsuspecting house and knocked on the door. She was getting tired of greeting people over and over, but it was almost too easy. Every time, they would open the door, eyes widening the moment they saw her, and within seconds, she had them wrapped around her finger.

A little playful smile, a teasing touch on the arm, and a sultry whisper of "It wouldn't be a real party without you, would it?"—and just like that, another name was added to the list.

Though… Maybe I invited too many people… she sighed inwardly, tapping a manicured nail against the invitation list.

The door opened. 

Astaroth immediately wrinkled her nose. The air inside was thick, heavy with an unpleasant musk. A rounded man with greasy glasses peered out at her from the dimly lit interior, his face pale and slightly damp. Upon seeing her, his eyes widened, and he quickly fumbled the door open.

The door swung open fully, revealing a man who looked like he hadn't seen the outside world in days. Black sweaty hair, pimples all over his face, and just slightly overweight. His glasses slid down his nose as he blinked rapidly, his face already turning a shade of red upon taking in Astaroth's presence.

"H-hello there," he stammered, tugging at his ill-fitting shirt. His eyes darted to the succubus in front of him, then immediately to the ground, as if afraid to make eye contact for too long.

Astaroth barely held back a sigh.

She had come across plenty of men like this—shy, awkward, and way too eager to please. This one, though, had an… unpleasant aura about him. The air inside his house was thick, stale, and reeked of something she didn't want to identify.

Still, she had a job to do.

"Hi there," she purred, flashing her most dazzling smile. She tilted her head just slightly, just enough to let her silken hair cascade over one shoulder. "I'm inviting the neighborhood to a barbecue party tonight. It's going to be a lot of fun—food, drinks, music…" Her fingers ghosted over the man's sleeve, barely touching. "I'd just hate for you to miss out."

The man swallowed, audibly. His fingers twitched.

"A—a party?" he echoed.

"That's right," Astaroth said smoothly. "It'll be in the big house down the street." She gestured vaguely in the direction of their home. "Come by whenever you like."

For a moment, the man just stood there, blinking. Then, his lips curled into an uncomfortable, eager grin.

"Oh, I'll definitely come by," he said, his voice just a little too breathy. His eyes flicked over Astaroth—not in a way that made her feel admired, but in a way that made her want to take a bath immediately.

Gross. Looks like a Pornof resident

She resisted the urge to grimace and simply maintained her polite smile. "Great. See you then."

Before he could say anything else, she turned on her heel and walked away.

As soon as she was far enough, she let out the sigh she had suppressed and sagged her shoulders.

"Why did I invite him…" 

But the rules were the rules. No man should be left out of a succubi's pleasure.

"I just hope he takes a bath first," she mumbled before heading to the next house.

Back at the house, the final preparations were almost complete.

The massive table in the center of the backyard was covered in plates, dishes, and pitchers of drinks. The scent of grilled meat and roasted vegetables filled the air, mixing with the crisp evening breeze. Succubus-chan and the imps had outdone themselves with the decorations—though some of the balloons had already exploded because of the imps's games.

Eva, despite numerous attempts, had been successfully kept at bay from devouring the feast ahead of time.

The music, curated by Morrigan and the Lilith Bros, was already playing softly in the background, warming up before the party officially started.

Now, only one thing remained.

Lilith glanced at the time, then toward the house.

Luka.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way up the stairs, stopping in front of his room. She knocked sharply.

No answer.

Lilith frowned. She knocked again, this time a little louder. "Luka."

Silence.

With a sigh, she crossed her arms. "I know you're in there. You haven't left that room all day."

Still nothing.

She tapped her fingers against the door, her patience wearing thin. "Alright, fine. I'll just talk while you sit there and pretend I don't exist." She leaned against the frame. "We're having a party. A big one. Everyone's downstairs, the food is ready, and the whole neighborhood is coming."

Finally, there was movement inside. It was faint—a soft creak of the bed, the rustling of fabric. Then he opened the door.

Luka stood there, his face drawn, dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in ages.

"I don't feel like it," he said quietly, his eyes not even bothering to look at her.

Lilith closed her eyes briefly, exhaling. She expected that response, but that wasn't going in the direction of her plans.

A flicker of sympathy crossed Lilith's face, but she didn't let it linger. Luka didn't need pity. He needed a push.

"You've been locked up in here for too long," she said with a firm tone. "It's not good for a young man like you."

Luka sighed. "Okay, first off: I hate parties."

Lilith's face turned pale.

"Second, I don't need that right now. I'm fine. Have your party all you want, I don't care."

"You don't like parties?" she echoed, her tone still a little shaky, her surprise evident.

"I hate them. Especially when they're overcrowded with people," Luka muttered, his arms crossed.

Then, with a slow, knowing smile, she leaned against the doorframe. "Oh? So, you don't care if I go downstairs and tell everyone that our dear, elusive Luka is too scared to come out and join the fun?"

Luka gave her a flat, unimpressed look. "That's not going to work on me."

"Really? What if I say you're too scared?" she smirked, taking a step closer. "Poor little Luka, hiding away in his room while all the pretty succubi are downstairs, waiting to greet him. What a shame."

"Lilith, you're wasting your time," Luka sighed, already starting to pull the door shut.

Lilith quickly shoved her foot inside to stop the door from closing fully.

"If you're trying to make me angry, you're succeeding," he snapped, his tone dripping with irritation.

"Luka," Lilith sighed, her voice turning softer but no less firm. "Let me be honest with you. I'm not doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I'm doing it because you're my ally right now, and we made a deal."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't respond immediately. Lilith waited, watching the internal struggle play out in his expression.

"So if you're telling me that now you can't help us anymore, fine. I will leave. But don't blame me if I do things my way instead. Surely, you understand?"

At that moment, a series of thoughts crossed his mind.

How long had it been? 

Ever since he went to Tamia, his life had been anything else but normal. So how long had it been since he went to a party like that?

But the idea of Lilith following through with her vague threat was enough to stir a new kind of discomfort in him.

He knew exactly what she meant by "her way"—and it wouldn't be pretty. SHe didn't care for innocent people being hurt, and he didn't like the idea of her pulling strings that could make things far worse than they needed to be.

After a few more moments of tense silence, it seemed like Luka might shut her out entirely. But then, with an almost resigned sigh, he stepped back, opening the door wider.

"I knew you'd take the most reasonable option," Lilith said with a knowing smile.

But just as she stepped to cross the threshold, he quickly slammed the door behind him, causing Lilith to jump back in surprise.

His eyes locked onto hers with a burning intensity, and his glare was sharp enough to send a ripple of unease through her.

"Tell me. Are you even capable of being genuinely nice? Or does everything need to be calculated and manipulative?"

Lilith's eyes narrowed in response, but this time, there was no playful smirk, no teasing edge to her voice.

"What makes you think I'm here to be 'nice,' Luka?" she asked, her tone much colder now, as if the sharpness of his question had cut through some of her composure. "I'm not here to coddle you or play nice. You know that."

"Why does it always have to be roundabout with you people?" he said in a low voice. "Why do you always have to hide your intentions like some kind of pre-schooler thinking they are a mastermind? When someone knows your true nature, no need to hide it being niceties."

"Maybe," Lilith said slowly, her voice quieter now but still laced with venom, "But you have no idea what it's like to be me. To be in my position. You think I have a choice in how I act? I do what I need to survive." Her eyes met his again, piercing and unflinching. "I'm not here to make friends, Luka. I'm here to win."

"Is the situation in your world that bad?" he asked, this time softer.

"It is," she nodded. "Our world is on the brink of destruction. If I don't return there soon, we might not be able to save the people living here."

"Don't talk like I have no idea," he sighed. "I get the weight on your shoulders, and that's why I'm angry."

"What do you mean?" she narrowed her eyes.

"Because you have it easy," he said bitterly before passing her by, and heading down the stairs.

He continued down the stairs. Passing by several party guests who had already arrived, Luka didn't even glance at them. He didn't recognize a single face.

He recognized none of them.

After all, he'd only been in this neighborhood for two years. It wasn't long enough to really get to know anyone. He'd kept his distance, buried his head in his work, in his own mind. It was easier that way, less complicated. But now, the idea of mingling with strangers—especially in a setting like this—felt like another weight added to the pile.

None of the people present in this house were his friends.

Even with so many people around…

He felt terribly alone.

The warmth of the house, the music playing softly in the background, the chatter of guests—it all seemed distant, like an echo of a world he wasn't part of.

As he passed through the crowd, his eyes flicked to the small groups of people mingling and laughing, but none of it felt real. His gaze drifted to the food and drink on the table, but it didn't stir any appetite in him. He wasn't hungry.

It's not like he could make friends anyway. 

Ever since that day, he felt a pressure in his chest—a familiar, constant weight. Something that had plagued him for so long, only needing the smallest spark to reignite.

A crushing lack of confidence.

He wasn't trusting himself anymore. He had lost it the other day, ruining everything in his path, for what? He didn't even get to kill himself the person he wanted to kill.

He hurt innocent Drifters for no reason, almost killed Alma Elma and fought against what he thought were 'friends'. 

But it was also a lie. None of these succubi were his friends, far from it. How could he be so blind? They were just here to take advantage of him, of his kindness.

He moved towards the back door, stepping out onto the porch for a breath of air. The cool night wind hit him with a sharp sting, the quietness of the outside world offering him a brief moment of relief. He closed his eyes, leaning against the railing, trying to shake off the pressure he felt building inside.

Maybe…

Maybe it was better to be alone. And now, he wished for it.

The young man invited earlier made his way into the house. Just for this occasion, he took a shower, his eyes set on the girl he had seen. 

She was perfect, undeniably perfect. A goddess among mortals, a delicate scarlet flower that belonged in his world. And tonight, he would claim her.

With an awkward grin plastered on his face, he entered the bustling space, the soft murmur of voices and faint music filling his ears. Most of the people were strangers to him; he wasn't a social butterfly, rarely stepping out of his comfort zone. But tonight, none of that mattered. He wasn't here to make idle small talk. His eyes darted around the room, briefly landing on a few unfamiliar faces before zeroing in on her.

There she was.

She stood near the corner of the room, holding a glass of wine, her posture straight and unyielding, as though she were a commanding figure. She was the one—the one he had been waiting for. And she was his tonight.

He swallowed. The decision was already made—he was going to talk to her.

He made his way through the crowd, pushing past conversations and laughter, his eyes locked on her 

As he reached her, he stopped for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest like a jackhammer. She raised an eyebrow and seemed surprised by his approach.

"O-Oh," she stammered, her gaze flicking away for a brief moment. "It's you. I-I'm glad you came."

He swelled with pride. She's shy. His ego grew ten sizes in an instant. How cute . She was already nervous. That was the reaction he had been hoping for—confirmation that his charm was working. His fingers twitched in nervous excitement but he quickly masked it with a smile that he hoped looked suave.

"Hi," he stuttered, but quickly recovered, his voice thick with a mix of nervousness and overwhelming confidence. "You look... incredible. What's your name?"

"A-Astaroth," she replied, her voice soft, almost hesitant, her eyes darting away briefly as if searching for a way to escape.

The man's grin only deepened. Astaroth. The name had an exotic ring to it, adding a layer of mystery to her already captivating presence. He couldn't help but feel a rush of triumph. She's talking to me. She's nervous. This is going perfectly.

"My name's Daniel," he said with a smug tilt of his head. He took a step closer, his breath a little too eager, his voice dropping a bit lower. "I was wondering... how a beautiful woman like you ends up at a party like this? You seem... different. You don't exactly blend in."

Astaroth's lips parted for a moment, and she looked down, fidgeting with the stem of her glass. Her discomfort was palpable, but Daniel didn't notice. He was too busy reveling in the fact that she was standing here with him.

She's playing hard to get. His ego only swelled.

"So," Daniel said, leaning in a bit closer, his confidence growing, "Astaroth, huh? That's a pretty unique name. What, are you like... a model or something? You've got that look."

Astaroth's eyes flicked to him, wide with discomfort, but her response came out softer, still guarded. "I—uh—I'm not a model."

Daniel didn't notice the subtle cringe in her expression. Instead, he moved even closer, brushing past the invisible boundaries she had set, unaware of how much space she was trying to maintain. His arrogance only grew.

"Well, you should be. You've definitely got the looks for it," Daniel said, smirking as he leaned in even closer. "I'm sure someone like you could go far. With a little help, of course."

Astaroth recoiled just slightly, her expression closing off, but she said nothing.

Daniel, undeterred, plowed on. "I work at a model agency. If you're interested, I could introduce you to the manager. Get you in the door, maybe even get you a few gigs. A girl like you? You'd be perfect."

The words came out almost too easily, as if he was doing her a favor, as if she should be grateful for his attention.

"O-Oh, really?" she said, her eyes widening. 

THIS GUY IS WORKING? Astaroth almost screamed.

"Yeah, I work on their website but I know them. You can come to my house, I will show you."

Astaroth swallowed, trying to keep her composure. She was no longer listening to him. It wasn't even about the offer anymore. The words sounded hollow, shallow. She wanted to leave. She needed to get away from him before she snapped.

But then, his attention shifted.

Daniel's eyes flitted away from her, his smug grin disappearing as he took in the sight of something—or someone—else.

His gaze immediately landed on a purple-haired woman working at the grill. She was focused, flipping food and serving guests with an ease that made her look even more attractive.

Daniel's thoughts immediately shifted. The girl in front of him—Astaroth—was forgotten. His mind was now fixed on the purple-haired woman.

He was salivating.

Not from the food, but from her body. She was beautiful—on the same level as Astaroth if not more. 

His eyes shifted again, landing on yet another woman—a smaller girl, her black hair with bangs held with delicate air clips. She looked sweet, innocent, and he couldn't help but feel a spark of desire at the thought of having her for himself.

All of them were more beautiful than the models he worked with, more captivating than anything he had ever seen. They were perfect. And he was determined to get what he wanted from each of them.

But before he could take a step closer to the purple-haired woman, a hand shot out and grabbed his arm with a firm grip.

Daniel looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he met the stern gaze of a blue-haired woman. She had an icy look in her eyes, and a protective stance that immediately set off alarm bells in Daniel's mind.

"Hey, get away from my sister," she growled, her voice low and warning. The faint flicker of blue energy around her hand made Daniel's blood run cold, though he quickly dismissed it as his imagination. She was just some random girl trying to protect her sister. Nothing to worry about.

"Morrigan, it's fine," Astaroth replied softly, though she liked that her sister was coming to help.

For a moment, Daniel stood frozen, his ego bruised but still intact. After all, Astaroth was still enthralled by him. His charm was superior to any normal guy.

He straightened, brushing himself off and throwing a smug look toward Morrigan. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his focus quickly returning to the purple-haired woman. She was still working, unaware of his attention.

He walked toward her again, the sense of entitlement pulsing in his veins. This time, nothing was going to stop him.

As Daniel approached Alma Elma, the tension between the succubi grew. They exchanged glances, discomfort kicking in. They had dealt with men like him before, but they were forbidden from putting him in his place for now as per Lilith's instructions. 

With his heavy body, he passed with difficulty through the guests and finally reached the grill, from which he flashed a confident smile toward the succubus. 

"Hello, milady," he said in a forced deep voice. "Can I help you with that grill? You seem to have some problems with it."

Alma Elma blinked at him in confusion. "I am doing perfectly fine…" It took her a moment to wince at his sight.

It wasn't that he was ugly, far from it. In fact, she had seen a lot of uglier men in her life and still slept with them. No, it wasn't his appearance that repulsed her. It was his scent .

The scent of a man consumed by lust, his desires so uncontrolled that they practically oozed from his pores. He reeked of desperation, of a perversion so intense that it was barely concealed beneath his smug grin. She could practically smell the crusty tissues piling up in his trash can.

Alma Elma's lips curled into a faint smirk, though her eyes remained cold. She was used to men like Daniel—men who thought they could charm her with their shallow compliments and false confidence. But this one was particularly grating. His arrogance was matched only by his lack of self-awareness.

"I assure you," she said, her voice smooth but with an edge of sarcasm, "the grill is under control. But thank you for your concern…♪"

Daniel, oblivious to her tone, took her response as an invitation to stay. He leaned in closer, his grin widening. "Well, if you change your mind, I'm here to help. A beautiful woman like you shouldn't have to work so hard. You should be enjoying the party."

"What a gentleman you are…♪" she smirked, flipping a sausage on the grill. "You must be popular with girls."

Daniel, oblivious to her sarcasm, puffed out his chest, clearly pleased with the thought of his own attractiveness. "You'd be surprised," he said with a self-assured laugh. "I know what women want, and I'm happy to show you. It's all about knowing how to treat a lady."

She flicked another sausage over the grill with an almost casual elegance. "Ah, I see. So you're a professional. How interesting. I'm sure every girl must be just dying to be treated by you."

Daniel, his pride swelling, leaned in just a little closer, almost stepping over the line. "If you're willing to find out, I'd be happy to prove it," he said, his voice oozing confidence, completely blind to the clear signals of disinterest she was giving off.

"I'm sorry but we all already have a man here," she replied without even bothering to look up. 

And with that, she dismissed him with a quick flip of the grill. The coolness in her tone, the lack of interest, was more than enough to make Daniel's mind falter for the briefest moment.

What did she mean by, 'they' have a man already? 

"What…" his voice was hesitant for the first time as he shook his head. "You? A man? Are you married?"

"No but…" Alma Elma flashed him a teasing grin. 

"Then it's fine," he smirked. "I am much better anyway. Do you know how much money I make?"

Alma Elma froze, a flicker of disgust on her face before going back to her teasing grin. She set the spatula down on the grill and leaned casually against the table.

"Oh? You're a hard-working man?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Daniel didn't pick up on the sarcasm, his smugness growing. He leaned in even closer, a little too eager. "You'd be surprised. Unlike most people, I work a lot. Ever heard of Valentina ?"

Her eyes were cast upward for a moment, deep in thought. Valentina… Somehow it rang a bell in her head. Was it the magazine she was reading the other day?

"A fashion magazine?" she asked.

"Yeah, every girl read it," he said as if it was obvious. "I work for them. And I was thinking… you'd kill it as a model. I could hook you up—private shoot, just you and me."

Alma Elma's grin widened, but there was no warmth in it. Instead, it was almost predatory, as if she were toying with him. "Hmm," she hummed, her eyes glinting. 

"How about it?" he pressed, practically vibrating with eagerness, his eyes glued to her curves.

She straightened up, a grin plastered on her face as she picked up the spatula again. "Let me guess… You're one of those guys who think any woman will be desperate for your attention?" 

Daniel's face flushed, his smirk faltering slightly as he tried to recover. "I'm not saying that," he chuckled. "It's just that…"

"Besides, I don't think even a succubus would be interested in you…" she continued, her tone turning predatory. "I feel like I would get a stomachache."

He blinked, thrown off. "Succubus? What's that supposed to mean?" His laugh was forced, grating, as he waved it off. "You're a weird one, huh?"

Alma Elma tilted her head, her grin now a full-on baring of fangs, though Daniel was too dense to notice the shift. "Weird? Oh, my dear, you have no idea." She flipped another sausage, this time pressing it so tightly it almost exploded while glaring at him.

Daniel, undeterred, adjusted his shirt collar with a clumsy swagger, oblivious to the grease stain blooming across it. "Look, babe, I get it—you're playing hard to get. Chicks love that game. But I'm the real deal." He flashed a wink, yellowed teeth gleaming. "I've bagged hotter than you—models, actresses, the works. All it takes is a night with me, and you'll be begging for round two."

The other succubi froze mid-motion. Succubus-chan almost spat her drink upon hearing him. Morrigan and Astaroth froze, their heads snapping with a bemused grin on their face. Even Eva glanced up from the food, a rare flicker of disgust crossing her face. 

I think for the first time I'm thinking of killing a man with my fist, she thought a vein popping on her head. Even if she was Alma Elma, her pride was still hurt by that statement.

"Tell me, how about you go ask Luka over there?" she pointed toward the other side of the house. "He is our guardian."

Daniel, still not sensing the intensity of the situation, followed her gaze and saw Luka sitting alone, his eyes distant, as if lost in thought. Daniel's brow furrowed, puzzled. How could a man smaller than him—who seemed so unremarkable—be seen as a guardian? How could he be important?

He scoffed, dismissing the idea with an arrogant laugh. "Him? What's he gonna do? He looks like he couldn't even handle himself in a fight." He turned back to Alma Elma, his smug grin back in full force. 

"We live every day with him in this house, you didn't know?"

Daniel blinked, his smirk faltering for the first time. "Wait, what?" he stammered, his confidence wavering. "You live with him? Like… all of you?"

Alma Elma's grin widened, her fangs glinting in the light. "Oh, yes. Every single one of us. And let me tell you, he's far more of a man than you'll ever be."

Daniel's face turned red, his ego bruised but still intact. He straightened, brushing himself off and throwing a smug look toward Alma Elma. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his focus quickly returning to Luka.

There was no way a guy like him could… Was she mocking him? Yeah, there was no way otherwise.

A twig like him? Keeping a house full of beauties like that? Hell, there was no way he even kissed a girl before, he probably still cried to mommy when the lights was out. He looked like a fucking normie.

With a scoff, he headed toward the man, a tightening in his chest. 

"Hey, you," he barked, pointing rudely a finger at Luka. "You're Luka?" 

The man barely glanced at the guest. He stood with a quiet, reluctant grace, brushing off his pants as if the motion was more habit than necessity. "Yes. Is something the matter?"

Daniel loomed over him, his bulk casting a shadow that Luka didn't flinch from. He smirked, yellowed teeth glinting as he sized up the smaller man—lean, unassuming, not a trace of the swagger Daniel wore like a second skin. "Yeah, something's the matter," he sneered, crossing his arms with a grunt. "I hear you're the big 'guardian' around here. What's that about? You babysitting these chicks or what?"

Already annoyed, Luka sighed. "I live here," he said simply, hands resting at his sides. "I help out."

"But you live with them, yes or no?" Daniel pressed, an uneasy feeling in his chest.

"Well…" Luka scratched his cheek. "Yeah. They're a bit annoying, to be honest."

The words struck Daniel like a slap to the face. "A bit annoying?" he echoed, brow furrowing. Luka's response was so… dismissive. So unbothered. Of course, this guy had to be some kind of dense harem protagonist. He doesn't even deserve them, Daniel fumed internally. What makes him think he's worthy of this life? It should've been me, not him!

The thought sent a surge of anger through him, but instead of confronting it, he just took another step back. Then, without saying another word, he turned back and stormed inside the house. 

He had to find a way to ruin this guy's reputation now. Otherwise, those girls wouldn't follow him. Yeah, that was the perfect plan. 

Without anyone looking, he headed upstairs.

I'll frame him as a pervert—perfect plan. He shoved open doors, peering into rooms until he found one that screamed opportunity—a bedroom, dimly lit, with a faint feminine scent lingering in the air.

Daniel paused in the doorway, his sweaty palms gripping the frame as his eyes adjusted to the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The room was unmistakably a woman's—silk sheets rumpled on the bed, a vanity cluttered with makeup and jewelry, a faint whiff of perfume that made his nostrils flare. Jackpot, he thought, his leer widening as he stepped inside, shutting the door with a soft click. His plan crystallized: plant something incriminating, pin it on Luka, and watch the girls turn on their precious "guardian."

He lumbered toward the dresser, his sausage fingers rifling through drawers with no regard for subtlety—lace panties and satin bras spilled out, and he snickered, holding up a white thong like a trophy. "Oh, yeah, this'll do," he muttered, shoving it into his pocket. "Luka's a perv who steals undies—classic. They'll eat it up." His grin turned sleazy as he imagined the fallout—those babes crying on his shoulder, begging for a real man to save them.

Then his eyes landed on the bed—rumpled, inviting, a pillow with a faint indent where someone had slept. Daniel's mind veered into the gutter, his leer turning downright feral. "Bet one of them sleeps here—maybe that purple-haired chick," he mumbled, lumbering over to flop onto the mattress. He buried his face in the pillow, inhaling deeply, a low groan escaping him. "Oh, yeah, smells so good—gonna make this my spot once I kick that loser out."

After a long, perverse sniff, he sat up, swiping the pillow entirely and tucking it under his arm. "Now to find his bedroom," he muttered, creeping to the door and peering out, his beady eyes darting left and right. Nobody was here—perfect.

Daniel eased into the corridor, the stolen pillow clamped under one arm, the thong crinkling in his pocket with every step. His breath came heavy, a mix of exertion and excitement, as he shuffled along, peering at each door like a thief casing a vault. "Gotta be one of these," he whispered to himself. "I bet it's boring as hell."

He nudged open the next door—a storage closet, stacked with boxes and brooms. "Tch, nope," he grunted, moving on. The third door creaked open to reveal a small library that looked way bigger than it should. 

"What the fuck…" he muttered, blinking at the sheer absurd size of the place. Suddenly, he felt a terrible chill course through him and he closed the door, sweat sticking to his palms.

Finally, he opened the last door at the end of the hallway. It creaked open to reveal a small, tidy room: a single bed with a plain blue cover, a wooden desk cluttered with books and with a computer on it. Simple, unassuming, but lived-in. This is it, Daniel thought, his grin widening as he slipped inside, shutting the door with a muffled thud.

The room smelled fresh, no perfume, just a clean guy's space. "Figures," he sighed, dropping the pillow onto the bed with a plop. "Boring as hell—perfect for a loser like him." He fished the white thong from his pocket, dangling it between his fingers. He took a quick sniff from it and then tossed it onto the desk, letting it drape over the keyboard, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Oh, caught red-handed, Luka." he chuckled.

He rummaged through the desk, flipping open a notebook—scribbled notes, nothing spicy. "Lame," he muttered, chucking it aside, then spotted a small wooden box half-buried under papers. Prying it open, he nearly yelped, his grin faltering into shock.

In it was a gun. In a country where people weren't used to owning firearms, it was a surprise. "Unregistered firearm? One more thing to kick him out of here," he grinned, shutting the box before putting it back in place.

Daniel rubbed his hands together, a greasy chuckle bubbling up as he paced the small room. "Oh, this is gold," he muttered, picturing the face they will make. Luka hauled off in cuffs while he swooped in to take care of them. 

Then, he wondered. If he were to buy this place one day, he might as well test the mattress. He flopped onto the bed, kicking out his shoes with a thud. He sighed happily and rolled onto his side to bury his face in the pillow he'd dropped. "Smells clean—too clean for a creep like him. Bet he's got a stash of dirty mags somewhere—probably under here." He groped under the bed, fingers brushing dust and a stray sock, but no jackpot. "Tch, is this guy even human?"

The computer hummed faintly on the desk. Daniel's eyes gleamed as a new idea sparked. "Oh, wait—better yet," he said, heaving himself up with a grunt. He shuffled over, plopping into the chair, which squeaked in protest, and jiggled the mouse. The screen flared to life—a plain desktop, a few folders, nothing flashy. "Bet he's got some freaky stuff buried in here," he muttered, clicking through files with clumsy haste. "Porn, blackmail pics—something to seal the deal."

Most folders held mundane junk—notes, schedules, a few game saves. Then he hit a locked file: Private . "Bingo," he hissed, his grin turning downright vile. He tried a few passwords— password, 1234, Luka —but it stayed stubbornly shut. "C'mon, you fucking virgin, give me some more evidence!" 

A faint note scribbled on a Post-it caught his eye, stuck to the monitor's edge: It's the name of a famous metal band that sings Nothing Else Matters. Daniel blinked, then barked a laugh, loud and smug. "Oh, Metallica—easy peasy," he chuckled, typing it in with a flourish.

The screen changed, the Private folder unlocked. Daniel rubbed his hands together as a trove of files spilled across the screen. "Let's see what I can use…"

He clicked the first file—a video tilted Burning_Man_01 . The screen flickered, and a low-quality footage loaded.

Daniel froze. 

Grainy chaos filled the frame—flames roaring, smoke choking the sky, screams cutting through static. A figure blazed at the center, wreathed in fire, hurling molten fury at crumbling walls—walls that looked too much like the White House. Then Luka darted into view, dodging fireballs that scorched the earth. The footage shook, raw and unpolished—no Hollywood gloss, just brutal reality.

Daniel's hand shot to the mouse, slamming the red X to kill the video. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, stinging his eye.

"Holy shit, where did he get that?" he muttered, his chest tightening. 

Those videos were top secret, anyone who recognized the man in it could tell. An incident that almost ended up in the death of a president and that caused the deaths of thousands of civilians, pillaging and riots everywhere. No one really knew who had destroyed the White House that day, but multiple people were told it was some kind of man coated in flames, a conspirational theory very popular online.

But here it looked too real, hell it didn't even look like special effects.

And Luka— Luka —was in it, fighting that monster like some damn action hero.

He looked at the other files, all very recent but by dozens and tilted with something else, sometimes even events he had never heard about. 

He glanced at the thong on the keyboard, the pillow askew on the bed—his petty little setup now felt laughably small. "Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, raking his fingers through his thinning hair. "If he finds out I saw this…"

How unfair was this? Who would've thought a guy like him was living in his neighborhood? Not that he knew many people here anyway, but still!

However, his plan didn't change. He would frame the bastard and get at least one girl. 

Daniel's smirk crept back, shaky but stubborn, as he leaned forward, eyes glinting with a mix of panic and greed. "Alright, alright—new angle," he muttered, wiping his sweaty palms on his shirt, leaving damp streaks. "This punk's a freak—dangerous, unstable. I'll spin it—say he's hiding something from them."

He reopened the Private folder, the list of files sprawling across the screen like a map to Luka's secrets. His cursor hovered over Burning_Man_01 , but he hesitated. This one was too known. He scrolled instead to a file labeld Anomaly_09 . He clicked, holding his beath as it loaded.

It was more tame this time. Night, a city street, cracks splitting the pavement as what looked like dogs leaped in the air. Luka darted through the frame, shooting with his gun. Screams echoed, faint but real, before the video cut off. Daniel exhaled hard, a nervous laugh bubbling up. "What the fuck… Dogs now? Guy's a nutcase—perfect."

He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a cheap USB stick—some tacky Valentina promo swag—and jammed it into the port. "Gotta grab this," he muttered, copying Rift_09 with a frantic click, the progress bar crawling as his eyes darted to the door. In a few seconds, the transfer finished, and he yanked the stick free, shoving it deep into his pocket. 

His gaze flicked back to the thong and pillow—still good, still damning in their own petty way.

"Okay, time to out him," he chuckled, standing with a grunt, the chair creaking in relief. He pictured the girls rushing to him, saying how he saved them. 

"It's not just about the girls anymore," he muttered under his breath. "It's about showing them. Making them see I'm the one they need to follow. Not him. Yeah, that's right."

With a trembling hand, he zipped up his jacket, hiding the USB stick securely. His heart raced as he stepped toward the door. He had what he came for—enough to send Luka spiraling, to ruin his reputation completely.

But as he reached for the door handle, his mind couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. This entire setup—Luka, the girls, the way everything had unfolded—it was all a little too perfect, too easy. He had walked in with a plan, confident that he could manipulate the situation to his advantage. But now, as the weight of what he'd just done sank in, the path forward seemed clouded.

He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before opening the door, stepping into the hallway.

His eyes flicked nervously to the staircase, where the others would likely be. He needed to move quickly, before someone found out what he'd been up to. He tried to shake the doubt creeping into his thoughts, but the pull of it was strong. What if Luka knew? What if he was watching? What if he wasn't as unaware as Daniel had assumed?

For now, though, there was no turning back. He would make sure to play his cards right. He would expose Luka for what he truly was, and maybe—just maybe—he could come out of this on top.

"I was wondering what a little mouse was doing in his room," a voice suddenly cut him off. He turned around as he was about to take the staircase, a little girl standing with a smirk, her eyes glinting with a mischief too old for her frame.. "I wonder what you were doing."

Daniel's smirk froze, his gut lurching as he stared at the girl—tiny, with white hair and blue eyes in a girly dress that screamed innocence, but that grin… it was all predator. "Who the hell are you?" he snapped, his voice pitching higher than he meant, sweat beading on his brow. "What's a kid doing creeping around up here?"

She tilted her head, her smirk widening. "You pushed the door to my room earlier. Don't you remember?"

He took a step back, his bulk brushing the wall, the USB stick suddenly feeling like a lead weight in his pocket. "Yeah, uh, sorry. I was looking for the toilets," he muttered, forcing a laugh that came out like a wheeze."

Vinum's eyes narrowed, her grin disappearing. "In the boy's room? Well, whatever," she sighed. "You reek of evil it's almost disgusting, even to me. Go away."

Daniel's throat bobbed, and he nodded eagerly. "Y-Yeah! Bye!" Without hesitation, he quickly stormed down the stairs, making a noisy mess in the process.

Daniel hit the landing with a thud, nearly tripping over his own loafers as he steadied himself against the banister, panting like a dog in heat. His heart hammered, sweat slicking his palms, the USB stick and stolen trinkets jostling in his pocket with every ragged breath. That kid—what the hell was that? he thought, his mind spinning as he glanced back up the stairs. Vinum's cold stare lingered in his head—those blue eyes, that smirk, the way she'd sniffed out his "evil" like he was a rotting carcass. Just a brat, right? Can't know shit, he told himself, but the chill in his spine wouldn't quit.

The party buzzed below, laughter and clinking glasses spilling from the living room. Daniel straightened, puffing out his chest despite the ache in his legs, and swaggered toward the noise, his bulk brushing guests as he went. Time to shine, he thought, patting the USB stick like a lucky charm. He'd find Alma Elma first—play the concerned hero, drop the bomb about Luka's "secrets," watch her pretty face twist in disgust. Maybe she'd lean in close, grateful, her curves brushing his arm as she begged for protection from the psycho.

He spotted her by the grill, flipping sausages with that cool grace. "Hey, babe," he called, plastering on his sleaziest grin as he lumbered over, ignoring the stares from the other succubi. "Got something you need to see—your 'guardian' ain't what he seems."

Alma Elma's eyes flicked to him, her grin sharpening as she twirled the spatula. "Oh, Danny-boy, digging in the dirt again?" she chuckled. "What did you find?"

Daniel's smirk faltered, but he pressed on, leaning in too close, his breath a sour waft. "Nah, serious shit—caught him on tape fighting monsters, hiding weapons. He's a freak—dangerous. You need a real man to keep you safe, not some nutjob."

The succubi around him all giggled, making him look confused.

Alma Elma tilted her head, her smile widening, fangs peeking through. "Monsters, huh? I wonder what kind of monsters he was fighting?"

Daniel faltered, scratching his neck as his bravado sputtered. "Well, uh, dogs and stuff…" he muttered, floundering under her gaze. "But he's got a weapon—like, a gun! And I know he's got pictures of you naked stashed away too!"

The succubi's giggles erupted into full-on laughter, sharp and unrestrained—Morrigan doubled over, clutching her sides, while Astaroth's low cackle rolled like thunder. Succubus-chan coughed, hiding a grin behind her hand, and Eva barked a single, harsh "Ha!" that echoed off the walls. Daniel's face flushed a mottled red, his sleazy confidence teetering as he glanced around, bewildered. "What's so funny?" he snapped, his voice pitching into a whine. "I'm serious—guy's a creep!"

"Dogs I can imagine," Alma Elma chuckled. "But naked pictures of me? That's a new one."

"Yeah, it'd at least be something if he did that," Succubus-chan added, her smile sly and knowing, her eyes glinting over her phone.

Morrigan wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. "Oh shit… You're so stupid it's funny…"

Daniel's jaw tightened, his red face almost turning purple from pure rage as the succubi's laughter continued. "Stupid? You're the stupid ones! He doesn't even care about all of you!"

"And you do?" Alma Elma added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Daniel's rage sputtered, his purple flush deepening as he flailed for a comeback, his sweaty hands balling into fists. "Damn right I do! I would treat you like queens! This other guy probably jacks off to you in secret!"

Succubus-chan's grin widened, her phone forgotten as she leaned forward. "Jacks off to us? Oh, you're projecting hard, big guy."

He growled and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! You bitches don't even know what you're missing!" before storming off the garden amidst the mocking laughter.

Daniel stomped through the garden, his face burning with humiliation. The succubi's laughter echoed in his ears, each chuckle like a dagger to his pride. He couldn't believe they had laughed at him— him , Daniel, the guy who had everything going for him. How could they not see how much better he was than that loser Luka?

By the time he reached his house, rage had fully consumed him. He threw the door open with a forceful slam, the sound reverberating through the empty space. The silence mocked him. No one was there to greet him, no one cared that he had returned.

With a snarl, he stormed into his room, the glow of his PC screen casting long, lonely shadows across the cluttered floor. His gaze landed on his bed, where an array of custom body pillows made from the models he worked with, his "harem," as he called them—lay arranged in a pathetic mockery of the real thing.

The sight sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over him.

"This is so unfair…" His voice cracked as he dropped onto his chair, head in his hands. His shoulders shook with frustration, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Of course, he has good looks, is that why they don't like me?"

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he furiously wiped them away. "That bastard doesn't even care about them! He acts like they're just… roommates or some shit! He's wasting what he has!"

His breathing was uneven now, chest rising and falling rapidly as his mind raced. It wasn't just about Luka anymore—it was about all of them. Every stuck-up woman who had ever laughed at him. Every time he'd been overlooked, dismissed, ignored.

His gaze drifted to the USB stick on his desk, the one holding Luka's so-called secrets. But he couldn't use it, no one would believe him. Or worse, it could bring him trouble. 

He knew better than to fuck with these kinds of people.

"I want my harem…" he sobbed once more. "This is unfair…"

When suddenly, a small light appeared next to him. 

"Oh? You want revenge, is that it?" a whisper cooed beside him, velvety and sweet.

Daniel jerked back, his chair scraping against the floor as his eyes darted to the source of the voice. A flickering, eerie light hovered beside him, pulsing faintly with an unnatural glow.

"What the—?" He wiped his face hastily, anger overriding his fear. "Who's there?!"

The light shifted, coalescing into a shape—a delicate, feminine figure with gleaming, slitted eyes and a smile that curled with amusement.

"Oh, Daniel," she whispered softly. "You poor, poor thing. You just wanted what you deserved, didn't you?"

Daniel's breath hitched, his bulk shifting back in the chair with a creak as he gaped at her. She had long black hair and a purple kimono, a fan covering her face but the lines of her smile could be seen nonetheless.

"Who—what the hell are you?" he barked, his voice rough and unsteady, torn between fear and the familiar pull of his sleazy instincts. "This some kinda trick? Get out of here!"

She giggled while fanning herself, revealing red lips. "No trick, Danny," she smiled widely. "I've been watching you, sniveling over your sad little pillows, crying for what's unfair. And oh, how unfair it is—poor, overlooked and lonely Daniel, denied of what he rightfully deserves."

"Watching me?" he grunted, leaning forward despite the chill creeping up his spine, his hands gripping the desk's edge. "What's the catch here?"

"No catch," she simply said, snapping her fan shut. "I am generous you see. I love granting wishes to people with such an insatiable lust and greed. Do you want those girls worshipping at your feet? I can make it happen—snap my fingers, and poof, your dreams come true."

Daniel's heart pounded in his chest. This had to be a joke. Some kind of elaborate prank. Maybe he'd fallen asleep at his desk, and this was just some pathetic fever dream brought on by too much rage and not enough sleep. He had those before while playing MMO's.

But as the woman leaned in closer, the air itself seemed to thicken, pressing down on him like a warm, invisible hand. Her scent—something intoxicating, rich with flowers and incense—seeped into his senses, muddling his thoughts.

His fingers twitched over the USB stick, his last, feeble grasp on reality. "And… what do you get out of this?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"Oh, Daniel," she crooned, placing a delicate hand under his chin, tilting his face up. "Why must men always assume there's a price? Maybe I just enjoy seeing a man claim what's his." Her nails trailed along his jaw, featherlight, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. "And I can't wait to see you drown in their bodies in delight."

Daniel's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, sweat slicking the back of his neck. His instincts screamed at him that something was wrong, that no one just gave power away.

But then, what did he have to lose?

Luka had everything—power, respect, women. He was nothing on the other hand. And now? He had a chance. A real shot at turning the tables, at making them see him.

His hesitation wavered, crumbling under the weight of his own self-pity and rage. He leaned in slightly, eyes searching hers. "If I say yes," he murmured, "what happens next?"

The woman's grin stretched wider, dark amusement flickering in her glowing eyes.

"Oh, darling," she whispered, her breath cool against his skin. "You'll finally become someone worth worshipping."