"Mistress, are you sure about this? The Parasite King was just killed… and the target regained his strength," said a voice inside a dimly lit room where only two figures shared the space.
The speaker, a male demon with long, slick fingers, was gently massaging the back of a stunningly beautiful woman. Her skin gleamed in the low light, her naked body relaxed across the bed, stretched out like a cat basking in warmth.
She let out a quiet hum, already aware of what he was saying.
But then, in a voice slow and heavy with pleasure, she replied, "I can't wait anymore. If I do… I might never get the chance to touch him."
Her tone was lazy, almost dreamy, as though she was far more focused on the hands gliding along her spine than the conversation itself.
The demon, her advisor for many years and a veteran of the long-past war, dared to speak again, "But my lady… he's still too powerful. If you go alone… is it really wise—?"
Crack.
