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The beastfolk maids of House Boreas provided meticulous nightly service.
Thus, every inhabited bedroom in the mansion was illuminated by candlelight before dusk.
Now—
Flickering flames cast Allen's shifting expressions into stark relief.
Not the constipated grimace one might expect, but something more complex—a mix of shame and self-loathing.
He placed the folded letter detailing the Teleportation Incident plans on the desk...
But didn't open it.
Just stared.
The candle burned. Time passed.
Finally, Allen moved—
Reaching into his collar, he pulled out a necklace.
A shimmering blue magic stone swayed in the candlelight, its glow pulsing in his eyes like an unkindled flame.
Smoke-like text swirled before him.
[So much for "follow your heart, unite knowledge and action."]
Allen shook his head silently.
'Can't you go five minutes without roasting me? Is this how you treat your host?'
The smoke trembled, as if laughing.
[Oh? Still salty? Didn't I obediently serve up Roxy's profile last night per your request?]
[You fell asleep mid-viewing. Not my fault.]
Allen pinched the bridge of his nose.
'Be serious for once.'
The text scattered briefly—
Then lunged at his face like an overeager gossip!
[Then! Host~ What's eating you today?]
[Let me guess~]
[Hilda's name on last night's list? The blood connection? Understandable! Hence why I only lightly roasted you!]
[But you've already decided to "observe further"—so why the face?]
[Staring at the necklace...]
[Roxy?]
[After all those late-night one-sided calls, watching her draft and redraft letters—you know how she feels. Why hesitate?]
[Ah~ So it's—]
[SYLPHIE!]
[Ohhhh~ Can't pretend not to notice anymore? Finally aware of her love?~ Now what?~]
The smoke dispersed under Allen's darkening expression—only to reform aggressively!
[Just take her! What's the issue? You're in another world! No harem? Unthinkable!]
Allen's blood pressure spiked. He swiped at the text—but this time, it dodged, stubbornly lingering.
[Moral qualms? Scared of losing both if you push?]
'Shut up.'
[Why? Follow the script! Take Sylphie first—use her unconditional love! Then later, add Roxy!]
'Shut. Up.'
[Or keep Roxy on the backburner! String her along for years with letters! She's smitten—won't move on!]
[Raise Sylphie by your side! Play the "recovering impotent" card until she initiates!]
[Marry fast! Get her pregnant! Then "oops"—reunite with Roxy in a dungeon! "Mistakes were made"!]
[Use Roxy's guilt + Sylphie's forgiveness! Kneel! Beg! Let her propose sharing! Harem unlocked!]
[PERFECT!]
[FLAWLESS!!]
[The blueprint's ready! So—]
[WHAT'S THE HOLDUP!?]
BANG!
Allen slammed the desk.
'SHUT UP!'
He jabbed a finger at his own eyes.
'If not for your damn mission, I'd have left with Roxy from Buena Village! A year apart already—now you want me to avoid her for eight more?!'
'This isn't some fucking dating sim! They're people! With hearts! Minds! Not collectibles!'
The system's taunting had struck a nerve. Allen raked hands through his hair.
'Exploit guilt? Manipulate love? You soulless—'
[Correct. I lack one.]
'Don't care—FUCK YOU!'
[Seething.]
Allen froze. Inhaled sharply.
The text drifted lazily, like a pacing predator.
[My humanity is irrelevant.]
[The real question is—]
It coiled by his ear, a whispered provocation:
[What now?]
["Respect" them? "Respect" yourself?]
[So—ignore Sylphie's burning gaze? Or accept her, then write Roxy a rejection?]
[Well?]
[Choose.]
Silence.
[The ravine. The Greyrat bedroom. The rainy dawn.]
[Three times your heart wavered for Sylphie.]
[How many more, coward?]
[Hide?]
[Let me ask you, Allen.]
The smoke solidified—
A blade to his conscience.
[Can you even hide it anymore?]
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 220 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 80 power stones I will publish the next chapter.