A bloated man spoke lazily, his thick chin quivering. "Hey, that girl named Luna is mine."
He squinted at the girl's clear yet terrified eyes, licking his lips.
"Her eyes are nice... dig them out first. They'll taste wonderful when I lick them."
At his words, one of the thugs drew a sharp knife from his belt, its blade gleaming coldly in the light.
The other thugs grinned alongside him, their expressions filled with glee, as if watching a play about to begin.
Tears poured from Luna's eyes like a broken dam, her voice trembling into fragments. "N-no... please... don't... don't..."
The last man, his face painted with grotesque clown makeup, lazily patted the hunting dog at his feet.
The beast growled between bared fangs, its crimson tongue dripping with saliva.
The man lifted his head, staring at the last girl, Scar, his lips twisting into a warped smile. "You're Scar, right? Let me introduce you—this is my precious son. He's a dog, yes, but I love him like my own flesh and blood."
His voice grew thick with sick delight. "He's in heat right now... why don't we all see what sort of lovely fruit blooms from your union?"
Scar shuddered violently, despair and disgust filling her eyes, her voice hoarse and nearly inaudible. "Wh-why... why are you doing this..."
The handsome man chuckled at her words, as though she had asked a naive question.
"My dear, what reason do we need?" He spread his hands, his tone light as if discussing the weather. "Why? Because it makes money."
He paused, his smile turning colder. "There are countless peasants in the countryside. If some die, there will always be more to replace them, won't there?"
"—!"
Fal bit her lip until it bled, crimson dripping from the corner of her mouth, her legs spasming with terror.
Luna's tears fell onto the floor, the reflection of the knife in her pupils drawing closer.
Scar's gaze dimmed as the hound approached, leaving a trail of drool on the floor, making revolting wet smacks.
The girls' sobs were drowned beneath the thugs' chuckles.
The blade's cold gleam, the dog's growls, the men's whispers—woven together into a cacophony of ugliness.
The room's light was dazzlingly bright. The four men joked and laughed, while thugs loomed around them like shadows. The girls' figures seemed so small, so helpless in their despair.
"These are the extremists of the imperial capital. Ordinary girls can't satisfy them anymore."
The handsome man answered the girls' final ignorance.
"What they love most is ruining those happy smiles. Monstrous, isn't it?"
But from his lips, the word "monstrous" carried no scorn.
The so-called monsters all laughed together.
"If not for us monsters, you wouldn't be living so well."
"Hahaha, of course, of course."
And in the midst of their laughter—a white light flashed. Zeroy and Patchouli appeared in the room.
"Wh-what... what is this?!"
"Who are you?!"
The sudden figures startled everyone.
Even the handsome man, who always smiled with narrowed eyes, opened them slightly.
"..."
Patchouli frowned, immediately taking stock of the unfamiliar environment.
She did not glance at Zeroy first, though her small hand remained tightly clasped around Zeroy's wrist, constantly checking her condition.
Or rather… it was because she had already confirmed Zeroy's state instantly that she could now look elsewhere.
Zeroy glanced around, then smiled—a very cold smile.
"So this is your hobby. How about guessing what mine is?"
On the way here, she had already heard the voices and knew what was happening.
"..."
The handsome man signaled subtly to the thugs, edging toward the door.
The others were not so cautious.
Seeing that the new arrivals were two young girls—two breathtakingly beautiful girls—their shock quickly gave way to lust.
No—their minds were overwhelmed by desire, abandoning all thought.
"Grab them!"
"Ahhh... so beautiful... that golden hair, it's like a work of art..."
"That aura... intoxicating... hurry, seize them! What a surprise today brings!"
"..."
Zeroy cast a glance at the man trying to slip away, releasing both her aura and her magic.
In an instant, everyone in the room except the three bound girls was crushed to the floor by a dreadful force.
"My favorite pastime? It's torturing pests like you."
She drew her Striker Blade, swinging arcs of light with controlled force.
Each stroke precisely severed hands and feet.
At the same time, a magic circle unfolded at her feet—a healing circle, meant for the pests themselves.
Severed limbs could easily kill a man. That was the crude method she had used when she was still inexperienced. Now, even after cutting off limbs, she would not allow them to die easily.
Then she stretched out her hand, summoning countless wind blades, stripping flesh from their bodies piece by piece.
Blood and screams exploded through the room.
Within moments, the floor was slick with gore.
There were many of them, and much blood—but no matter. They would not die so easily.
Her aura and magic pressed harder, and soon the sound of bones being crushed filled the room.
Not all at once; however, slowly, from the extremities upward, ground like grain beneath a millstone.
"How is it? Do your comrades' screams sound just as delightful to you?"
"..."
Her only answer was their varied cries of agony, with no words of meaning.
"Clicking your tongues, are you? Can't hear me now, huh."
Zeroy smirked yet made no move to pause.
—The girl ignored all else, granting nothing but pain and torment.
...
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