“Then… my other condition—let me ‘eat’ you. How about it?” Dorado’s voice curled like smoke around a candle.

Rafi’s cool-guy leg-crossed pose shattered like sugar glass under Dorado’s look.

Staring at Dorado’s hungry smile, Rafi’s mind snagged on a thorny thought—who’s the real succubus here?

“Y-you—stay away, like a plague wind! I’ve got a family now!” Her heart kicked like a startled deer.

Fine, so she didn’t act like a succubus—so what? Her resolve braced like a locked gate against a storm.

No way she could let this fake human, true succubus, get her; she’d never face Nina after, like walking into winter without a coat.

—I was just out schmoozing.

Who’d buy that cursed excuse, like stale bread no one wants?

Dorado pressed on, stubborn as ivy on stone.

“You’re too young to have a family—don’t joke. Better play a round with big sis: chess, gomoku, even a war game or Flying Chess.” Her words danced like dice.

“No way! I’m warning you, I really do have a family! Don’t think ‘succubus’ means you can do whatever.” Her voice snapped like a twig.

“Then name your family. Who’s in it?” Dorado’s curiosity pricked like a pin.

“A little sister! And… and a secretary about your big-sis vibe!” Rafi spat it out like a fishbone.

Images bloomed in Dorado’s head like lanterns at dusk: a girl even smaller than Rafi, another a touch older, and Dorado in the midst—paradise like honeyed light.

“Ehehe~ even better, right? Call your sister too, and we’ll have four for mahjong—perfect.” Her eyes glazed like someone drunk on moonlight.

Rafi’s gut twisted like rope; that look made her skin crawl like ants.

“No!” The refusal cracked the air like a whip.

With a flick, she vanished upward like a swallow and clung to the ceiling like a gecko.

The smooth plaster offered no handhold, yet her nails bit in like hooks on ice.

A normal person would be helpless before a ceiling-sticking Rafi, like a fox watching a bird, but Dorado specialized in the mystic like old trees in fog—flight magic was trivial.

Even if she flew up, the chase would just loop like a snake eating its tail; the only fix lay at the root like digging up a stubborn stump.

“Hey, little Rafi—succubus through and through. Just play the game we both like, a raindrop of fun, and I’ll hand you what you came for—the Beastfolk slaves. We don’t need them much.” Her offer lay warm as fresh bread.

“No! I won’t sell my body, not for sun or snow! I’m a succubus—pure, untouched, like a sealed lily.” Her pride rang like steel.

“It’s just a game—why not?” Dorado’s tone stayed airy, like wind teasing reeds.

—Who doesn’t know what ‘game’ you mean?!

The ceiling wasn’t a forever haven; danger dripped like a ticking leak—solve the core, then bolt like a deer.

“Hey! Pervert! Can you change the demand?!” Her words flew like thrown stones.

Given Dorado’s off-key nature, Rafi’s title for her shifted like clouds—no way she could say “Miss Dorado” with a straight face.

“Oh my? Little Rafi really hates that term?” Dorado’s smile tilted like a crescent moon.

Rafi let her eyes go dead-fish flat, dangling upside down like a bat; goofy to look at, but the no was iron.

“Alright~ if Miss Rafi dislikes it, I won’t force it.” Her sigh unraveled like thread.

“Really?” Hope flickered in Rafi like a match in wind.

She dropped from the ceiling and landed light as a cat; if it was a lie, she could zip back up like a sparrow.

They sat again where they’d been, but this time Rafi guarded her chest with both arms like a shield and leaned back hard like a cornered fox.

“You don’t need to be that wary of me…” Dorado’s hands opened like empty sky.

“No. Perverts must be watched, like wolves near sheep.” Rafi’s glare cut like frost.

Dorado let out a long sigh, helpless as mist at dawn; it wasn’t her fault her tastes ran small like bonsai.

“Fine. You lot want our Beastfolk, right?” Her tone leveled like a calm lake.

Rafi nodded, quick as a pecking bird.

“So what do you offer in trade? We don’t truly need them, but we won’t gift them for free like petals on the wind.”

Rafi tilted her head, eyes round as moons: can’t we?

“You’re a Demon King at least—of course not,” Dorado said, firm as stone.

“Then what do you want? And let’s be clear—me is off the table.” Her stance braced like a spear.

Dorado didn’t answer at once; she poured tea and let the steam curl like mountain mist, then leapt topics like a carp over a gate.

“Do you want to know how our Ailusen Empire keeps its bloodline going?” Her voice rang like a bell.

Rafi wanted to snap at the deflection, but the hook caught like a glimmering lure; she was curious.

She’d once lived here undercover like a shadow at noon, mostly slipping outside the walls for intel like a fox through fields.

She’d planned to probe Ailusen last, but then she met Ling, and the river changed course like spring flood.

Thinking on it now, the reproduction issue glittered with value like ore in rock.

“Talk. I’m listening.” Her focus narrowed like a drawn bow.

“How much do you know about gods?” Dorado asked, mild as drizzle.

“They’re damnable; they shouldn’t breathe; they ought to die,” Rafi hissed like a struck viper.

“Mmh… Miss Rafi is quite funny,” Dorado murmured, a smile thin as a knife.

She watched Rafi’s attention lock on like a hawk to prey, and her smile curved into something unclear, cold as moonlight on steel.

“Once, a god called Aphrodite sheltered our country; thanks to her, our empire’s women could bear children together.” Her words fell soft as petals.

Rafi froze a heartbeat, the word “god” tolling in her ear like a bell in fog.

“You’re saying… a god shielded this country?!” Her voice rose like thunder at the ridge.

←——To Be Continued