The hotel restaurant was one of those classy joints — low lighting, a live jazz pianist, and waiters dressed like they'd walked straight out of an old Italian mob movie. Only a few tables were occupied, most by high-level hunters or businessmen who couldn't care less about the recent chaos in the lobby.
Seth walked in with slow steps, hands still in his pockets, eyes carrying that ever-present look of mild exhaustion. Vixen walked beside him like a runway model on a private stage. The crimson red dress hugged every curve with merciless precision, and her eyes never left Seth for even a second.
They sat at a reserved table in the back, far from curious eyes. Vixen ordered an expensive wine with a flick of her fingers and turned toward him with a smile that, in any other context, might've been fatal.
"You look uncomfortable," she said, resting her chin on one hand, elbow propped on the table, eyes dripping with lazy allure. "Is it because I'm staring at you like a fascinating little object... or because your psycho wife threatened to destroy my guild if you disappear for more than two hours?"
Seth snorted lightly, not even bothering to look up from the menu.
"Honestly? Probably both. Also because I'm not even your type, am I?"
Vixen smiled, eyes narrowing slightly. The soft lighting made her skin glow like porcelain, and the black choker on her neck pulsed faintly with magical energy.
"You'd be surprised what attracts me." She leaned back, crossing her legs slowly, letting the slit in her dress slide higher, exposing more skin. "But there's something about you..."
She snapped her fingers gently, and a faint wave of black mana spread across the table. The waiter arrived with the wine and quickly retreated, clearly unsettled by her presence.
"You're not afraid of me. You're not impressed by my charm. And — most fascinating of all — you survived a red-level dungeon as a Rank-E."
She poured the wine with the practiced elegance of someone used to commanding attention. Every move was precise, deliberate, like each drop played a part in the game she was preparing to play.
When she finished, she slid the glass toward him with an enigmatic smile. "That makes you different."
Seth took the glass with one hand but didn't drink. He simply spun the wine slowly, watching the way the light danced across the dark liquid. The silence between them was... almost comfortable. Almost.
"You don't think you're putting too much stock in a Rank-E?" he said with disdain, still not looking away from the wine. "It was just luck."
Vixen watched him for a few seconds. The smile that formed on her lips this time felt... more human. Less theatrical. Less seductive. There was a flicker of genuine admiration.
"Under normal circumstances, I might agree. But don't you find it strange? You're the only Rank-E in history to walk out of a red dungeon alive..."
She leaned in slightly, her eyes shimmering with a hypnotic golden hue. For a moment, two small hearts pulsed within them, like her emotions were being magically amplified — or manipulated.
But then...
[Skill 'The End' has adapted to 'Eyes of Love'. Effect nullified.]
The glow in Vixen's eyes extinguished instantly, like a candle snuffed out by a sudden breeze.
Before she could react, Seth leaned forward in a theatrical motion, planting both elbows on the table and squishing his cheeks with his hands, tilting his head with a mocking smile.
"Aww, how cute," he said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
Vixen stared at him, surprised. Few men dared to mock her like that — and none who lived to tell the tale.
"Using a charm skill right out the gate?" he continued, smiling as if he was genuinely amused. "Isn't that a bit... dishonest, Miss Huntress?"
She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes still half-lidded. The smile returned slowly, but this time it was laced with respect — and a hint of frustration.
"Rank-E, my ass. You might not have mana, but you're clearly packing a Rank-S skill."
"I never said that." Seth replied, still smiling. "Just thought it was funny how you suddenly got less interesting."
She laughed — low, melodic, full of double meanings. "You really like to play with danger, don't you, Seth?"
"No." he said, serious this time. "Danger just seems to like playing with me."
They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, the tension between them turning almost tangible. Vixen didn't attempt any more abilities. She didn't need to. The game had changed.
"You know," she said, half-joking, half-warning, "if you keep provoking me like that... I might just fall for you."
Seth shrugged. "Get in line."
"Modest."
"Realist."
She smiled again and finally raised her glass, toasting alone. "Then let's drink, realist. While it's still just flirting... and not war."
Seth lifted his glass, but before taking a sip, he looked her straight in the eye."If it turns into war... I hope you bring an army. You're gonna need it."
"And you? Gonna bring Connie?"
"I'll bring myself."
Then he drank.
Vixen watched in silence. For the first time in a long while… she was genuinely intrigued. She looked at Seth like a predator would eye prey — only this prey didn't run. He stayed right there, calm, insolent, and completely out of reach from any ordinary trap.
"You know, Seth..." she said, voice as smooth as velvet and heavy with promise. "Most men would've committed at least three sins just by sitting here with me. But you? Not a single slip."
Seth raised an eyebrow but didn't respond. He simply rested his chin on one hand, watching her like a man enjoying a performance on stage.
She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, crossing one leg over the other in a way that was too precise to be accidental.
"Makes me wonder what you're waiting for." Vixen continued, voice low, almost a whisper. "A sign? An invitation?"
She leaned closer, closing the space between them across the table. Her perfume filled the air — sweet and deadly like a poisonous flower.
"Or maybe..." she let the words hang as her fingers traced the rim of her glass, "you're testing your own resistance?"
Seth didn't flinch. Didn't blink. He just smirked.
"I call it common sense."
She laughed — a deep, elegant, dangerous sound.
"Really?" Vixen rested her chin on the back of her hand, imitating his posture. "Are you the type who prefers to play hard to get? Because... if you want, we can stop playing games and get down to business."
Seth watched her in silence, his eyes firm, unwavering. Vixen continued, this time more boldly.
"I have a suite here. Sea view. Big bathtub. Huge bed. We can go upstairs and find out if the chemistry is real... or just imagination." She bit her lower lip teasingly, her eyes locked on his.
Seth took a second before replying. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but sharp as a sheathed blade. "Having sex with you means dying."
Silence fell across the table like a stone.
Vixen blinked in surprise - and then laughed. A light, disbelieving laugh.
"Wow." She brought her hand to her chest, dramatizing. "Did you offend me... or flatter me?"
"Neither." Seth sipped his wine. "I'm just being honest. Sleeping with you would be like signing my death warrant."
She slowly leaned back in her chair, still smiling, but now with half-closed eyes. "You talk as if I were the murderer."
"You're not." Seth pointed slightly upwards with his chin, as if to indicate someone invisible above them both. "Her."
Vixen understood immediately. "Ahhh..." she said, amused and understanding. "The famous Black Mamba."
"The very one." Seth said, putting down his cup. "Connie has this... little problem with jealousy. And by small, I mean she'd probably throw you off the twentieth floor and still use your body as a magic battery."
"I'm beginning to think you like that." She murmured, smiling.
"The possession, yes, not the dying part." He replied.
She propped her elbows on the table, clasped her hands together and looked at him with more curiosity than she now desired.
"So let me get this straight. You're just a Rank-E, private chauffeur to a Rank-S huntress, and yet you'd rather turn down a night with me than risk pissing her off?"
"Exactly."
"Do you love her?"
"I respect the survival instinct." Seth shrugged. "And also... well, maybe, she's my wife now, right?"
Vixen tilted her head. "Maybe?"
"Maybe I'm the only idiot she doesn't kill because she knows I'd never bow down to her. And maybe... that's precisely what keeps her close... well, we met a long time ago." He added.
"And what about you? Are you going to keep resisting everything?"
Seth gave a broad smile, "I survived a red dungeon. You're not going to be the one to kill me now."
She laughed again, louder this time. Then she stood up, picked up the bottle of wine and poured him another glass.
"All right, Rank-E," she said, as she turned to leave. "But if one day Connie joins the current world... call me. More than 80% of the population has between 1 and 5 wives, even more Rank-S hunters." She smiled, "Call me. Just so we can test how ironclad your self-control really is."
Seth raised his glass in a silent toast. "If that happens... the world will already be ending."
She winked, laughed once more and walked away, her heels echoing across the restaurant floor.
Seth stood there, alone, watching the glass, slowly swirling the wine as he muttered to himself: "As if the world wasn't ending every day..."
And then he drank... Más...
[Ding! Daily Mission "Preparations to Become Strong" Failed!]
[You will be teleported to the punishment area! Survive 4 hours in the Desert!]