The Mimic Tentacle clearly didn’t understand why these people had abandoned the seemingly weak girl and fled. But it never passed up easy prey like this. Countless tentacles slithered across the ground like snakes, converging on Rein. Yet, just centimeters from her body, they froze. Instinct screamed at the tentacle to run—or die by this girl’s hand.

In the tentacle’s two eyes, the soft, powerless little loli was gone. Only a demon-like presence remained. Her crimson eyes, sharp as the Dark Overlord’s gaze, seemed to pierce through its very being.

Did tentacles have fate lines? Yes—any creature with a shred of intelligence did. But Rein had zero interest in this one’s fate line. She’d used her Scout skill solely to check for hidden onlookers.

Satisfied no one was watching, arcane power swirled around Rein like a gathering whirlwind. Harmless at first, it would soon become unstoppable. The tentacle noticed. Two of its limbs snatched the unconscious militiamen, dragging them close. In a strange, rasping voice, it uttered its first words: “Stop! Or… I’ll… eat them!”

“…”

Rein’s face stayed utterly cold, unmoved. She felt no pity for these militiamen. Yielding to the tentacle’s threat would only embolden it. That risked not just her life, but the entire town’s. Between two lives and many, she chose the many.

Arcane power surged beneath the tentacle. Threats couldn’t halt Rein’s magic circle. The tentacle hurled the militiamen aside to lighten itself, scrambling sideways to escape. Too late.

Violet-blue flames erupted skyward, engulfing the tentacle monster. Its agonized shrieks faded as it vanished from this world.

Rein glanced at a small tentacle fragment wriggling near her foot, desperately seeking soil to regrow—a primal instinct. She stomped it. Shielded by her Flame Guard, it turned to ash.

“They must be at the tavern…”

Rein turned toward the tavern. Only then did the two militiamen groggily wake, unaware of what had happened.

“Didn’t the mayor just beat us up?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

“No wonder my whole body aches.”

One militiaman rubbed his back, feeling something odd—but a closer touch found nothing.

Unseen on his back, a near-invisible tentacle had pierced his clothes and burrowed into his skin. He remained oblivious.

***

Back at the tavern, Rein didn’t spot Sophia or Hill downstairs. Hill’s condition meant he wouldn’t sit still—he was likely upstairs. At the room door, Rein’s hand paused on the knob. Faint sounds drifted through the wooden walls.

A girl’s moan. Rein had heard similar sounds before—in crystals recording intimate acts between girls. This moan matched those recordings exactly.

She almost left. But then she thought: *When else would I get to peek?* She’d never spied herself, but she’d often taken the blame for classmates who peeked in bathhouses. Over time, she’d wondered if she should try it too—until she “graduated early,” losing the chance.

Now, a perfect opportunity stood before her. Not some childish bathhouse scene, but two girls doing the unspeakable. Rein turned back.

*What’s the worst that could happen? I’ve died once already. Dying again won’t hurt.*

Heart pounding, she eased the wooden door open a crack.

What Rein saw was…