The World Is Mine For The Taking

Chapter 26 - 4 - Ayane, The Spirit Fox (7)

Chapter 26: Chapter 4 - Ayane, The Spirit Fox (7)

After dispatching all of them, I strolled back to the carriage, ready to step inside. But then, a lingering sense of life caught my attention among the fallen bandits. Glancing back, I spotted someone struggling to stand. On closer inspection, like the now lifeless bandits, the figure was dressed in bandit attire—safe to assume the figure was one too.

I extended my hand, forming a makeshift gun with two fingers, poised to unleash a spell. But as I prepared to cast, a realization struck me—she was a woman. If she managed to avoid my lethal spell, maybe she had skills worth exploring. Perhaps sparing her could prove advantageous?

With that notion in mind, I shot behind her at a breakneck speed, executing a chop to the nape of her neck that sent her collapsing. Swiftly, I caught her before she hit the ground. Taking a moment to inspect her, I observed a cloth mask concealing most of her face, leaving only her closed eyes visible. Tendrils of golden hair teased out from the edges of the fabric, and her attire subtly accentuated a distinctly feminine figure, with curves that hinted at allure. It even seemed plausible that she might boast a more generous bosom than Amon.

I made no attempt to unveil her face, leaving the mask in place as I carried her back to the carriage. The moment the women inside laid eyes on me, save for Artemis, a wave of fear swept through them, trembling in the face of my return. It wasn't surprising to see the other two women quaking; they were clearly scared of me. However, Ayane's visible fear caught me off guard.

I had assumed Ayane to be fatalistic, someone who accepted fate as an inevitability, believing her descent into prostitution was preordained. In my misguided assumption, I had thought all the women shared this mindset, figuring that to ease their fears, I should bluntly declare they'd become my playthings rather than dangle prospects that would only heighten their anxiety about their fate in my hands. Yet, it appeared I was gravely mistaken.

As I entered the carriage with the unconscious bandit woman in my arms, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The women inside, excluding Artemis, trembled in fear, their eyes wide with apprehension.

I carefully laid the bandit woman on the floor of the carriage and took a moment to observe the disquiet that had settled among the others. Were they scared of me? That seemed more likely. But well, there was nothing I could do about it.

***

Dread.

That's what coursed through me when bandits descended upon our village.

Powerless, I watched as many men assaulted my mother, and my father was forced to witness before they killed him right in front of me.

Our clan, known as the most beautiful among the beastkin, often drew the attention of bandits. It was no surprise they sought to prey on us.

But I was a unique find among them all. Unlike my kin, I possessed nine tails instead of the typical singular tail of the fox clan.

That's why, instead of merely assaulting and ending me right then and there, they chose to keep me as a pawn, a source of profit.

At nine, I wasn't deemed ready to be a prostitute, so they embarked on training me for that role. They drilled into me how a woman should act, how to satisfy men—every despicable detail. Each lesson left me on the verge of vomiting, but I gritted my teeth and endured it. To resist meant the possibility of being sold to those who sought the company of children. I forced a grin and bore the unbearable.

Fast forward nine years, and I was now eighteen. The day loomed when my virginity would be ruthlessly taken away. No, it loomed over all of us. Martha's brother would arrive to deflower each one of us before consigning us to the shelves.

I had long reconciled with my fate as a mere commodity, a prostitute. I had embraced that grim reality. There was no lingering hope for a knight in shining armor to rescue me. Those tales belonged to fiction. In this narrative, I was nothing more than a background character.

But today, a man barged in and purchased all of us. He resembled the knight in shining armor from my dreams, yet the aura around him set off alarm bells, warning me to keep my distance. I didn't want to be with him. Truth be told, I had a gut feeling that in his hands, I would still end up as a prostitute, treated as nothing more than a sex slave. I was certain that he would make me do anything he pleased. That's why I couldn't simply believe his claim that he only intended for us to work for him. It was hard to believe—too good to be true, even.

I reluctantly accepted the prospect that he might turn us into his playthings. It seemed easier to think that way. Without clarity on what he planned for us, unease would linger in our lives.

However, as I witnessed his display of power—the terrifying control over his mana and the devastating light magic that obliterated every bandit surrounding the carriages—fear reared its head once more. What lay ahead for me? Would I become his sex slave, or perhaps something even more twisted? Strangely, I found myself entertaining the thought that it might be better if he just turned me into his sex slave.

***

At last, we reached the grandeur of the capital city of Milham. The guards stationed outside the imposing front gate brought the carriages to a halt, their eyes widening as they peered inside. The spectacle of numerous women within each carriage elicited clear surprise. The captain of the guards approached me, suspicion etched on his face, insinuating potential involvement in human trafficking. However, I promptly silenced him by presenting a bag brimming with gold coins.

Money, it seemed, held incredible sway, even in this world.

With that, we gained entry without further issues. Along the route, bystanders gawked at the extensive procession, their expressions betraying a mix of confusion and curiosity. Yet, they refrained from prying into the true nature of our arrival, allowing the mysterious entourage to proceed unhindered through the bustling streets.

After a short journey, we finally arrived at a grand establishment named Leonamon. Positioned outside was a woman donned in a Victorian maid outfit. The coachmen eyed her with desire, but she paid them no mind. I had explicitly forbidden her from even glancing at any men other than myself, after all. As I stepped out of the carriage, she offered a bow.

"Welcome back, Master."

Amon greeted me, a smile gracing her face as her brown hair swayed with the bow. After straightening up, she glanced at the women emerging from the carriages.

"Are these the new workers?" she inquired. I had already informed her that I had acquired workers for the company.

"Yes, they are. I'll fill you in on how you'll be supervising them later. For now, let's head inside. We're attracting attention out here," I advised.

"Of course." Amon nodded and then turned toward the establishment. An undeniable tension seemed to grip her legs—were they subtly pressed together? Was she harboring arousal? It certainly seemed that way, given the sultry gazes she cast my way and the deliberate sway of her buttocks, almost as if she was enticing me to reach out and grab them.

I averted my gaze from that tempting display and directed my attention to the women, signaling for them to follow us. Initially uncertain, they reluctantly trailed behind.

Upon entering, I discovered that the establishment resembled a convenience store, with phones as the sole displayed product.

Continuing to walk, I asked Amon, "How many phones can you produce by yourself in a day?"

"I can make two to three smartphones, give or take," she replied, casting me a lustful gaze without breaking stride.

"Do you think these women can assist you?"

"I believe they can, in more ways than one," she responded with a suggestive tone.

Does that mean in a lewd way too?

"I certainly look forward to it then," I said with a sly grin.

Maybe in the future, I can revel in the ecstasy with the girls in this establishment as I please. I mean, I did explicitly tell them they'd be my playthings, right? I made it clear I wouldn't force them into it, but since they couldn't believe me, it might be better if they just think of themselves that way. If not, they'll only squirm in unease. Should they decide on that path, I'm all in. Presently, though, a palpable unease lingered among them. Was it the result of my flamboyant display of power earlier? It likely was. They now harbored uncertainty about their impending fate. I yearned to alter that perception. To restore their ease, I needed to firmly establish that they were destined to be both workers and playthings under my command. How might I achieve that? My gaze shifted discreetly toward Artemis. Perhaps making an example of her would be effective.

"Anyway, Master? What's with that woman on your shoulder?"

"Ah..."

Oh, right. All this time, the bandit woman I knocked out earlier dangled over my shoulder, still out cold. My plan for her involves stashing her away and squeezing intel on her employer. Bandits usually swim in cash. I'm damn sure this woman's boss is a goldmine. I'll gather the intel, then raid that bandit boss. While I might be sitting pretty in the wealth department, there's an undeniable rush in stacking more riches by toppling bandit overlords and snatching their dirty gains.

"After I brief you on how you'll supervise them, get me a room. I'm planning to school a naughty little bandit here a lesson," I said with a wicked smile.