An hour had passed.
An hour filled with desperate, futile attempts by four champion girls trying to eliminate the lustful monster in front of them. Everything had failed. Miserably.
Now they stood there, completely exposed.
The peach-haired girl was fully naked. Not a thread left on her body. And all four girls shared the same humiliating fate - their underwear had vanished during the chaotic battle.
Where had those intimate garments gone?
Currently adorning the face of a masked man standing before them. Four pairs of panties carefully layered across his head like some deranged superhero costume.
The fabric covered his nose, mouth, and parts of his forehead in a perverted display that would haunt their nightmares.
The Undies Man had arrived.
Jax pulled up Zoeâs status through the gaps in his makeshift mask.
[Champion Erica]
[Level 17 | HP: 100 / 15,000 | MP: 1,000]
âThe punching phase is over,â he thought, a predatory grin hidden beneath layers of stolen underwear. âNow comes the... adult disasters.â
He checked his own stats for comparison.
[Champion Jax Rayne]
[Level 35]
[HP: 43,970 / 50,000]
[MP: 2,200 / 2,200]
âIt was enough no, too much to take their hits while he will be fucking them and besides they were too exhausted to even defend.â
The mana-type girls - the bow user and the corrosion magic specialist - were totally drained. Zero MP left. The two melee fighters had lost all their efficiency, their movements sluggish and desperate.
Time for the main event.
Jax glanced behind him. The throne room was an absolute disaster zone. Scorch marks blackened the walls, blood splattered across marble floors, furniture reduced to kindling.
But there were no bodies. Just Roxana standing there, breathing heavily.
Sheâd freed her sister from that cramped cage. Queen Sylvie was propped against the wall now, barely conscious, looking somehow in worse condition than the destroyed room itself.
âSo she eliminated everyone,â Jax thought, noting the blood pools on the ground. âNo bodies though. Champion privilege - they evaporate when they die.â
He turned back to face the four naked champions. They stared at him with pure, undiluted terror in their eyes.
The Undies Man. The pervert whoâd stripped them during combat, treating it like a game. And not a single scratch marred their bodies - his swordplay had been surgically precise, cutting only fabric.
Zoe stood there barefoot, her face burning with shame. Earlier in the fight, sheâd tried to deliver a spinning kick to his head. Heâd caught her leg mid-strike with one hand, removed her shoe with the other, then slowly peeled off her stocking.
And then - god, the memory made her stomach turn - heâd brought the bare leg to his face and given it a long, slow lick while maintaining direct eye contact.
All four girls had been horrified. Disgusted beyond words.
âHolding onto four will be tough,â Jax mused, his eyes drifting toward Roxana again. âI should recruit some help.â
Roxana was currently half-carrying, half-dragging her sister toward the wall, trying to find a stable support position while simultaneously losing a heated argument.
"Why... why did you come here?" Sylvieâs voice was weak but angry. "I told you in the letter... warned you specifically... the threat weâre facing is too strong... you should have stayed away..."
"Donât worry, sister!" Roxanaâs voice carried forced confidence. "As long as that maniac is still standing, we can win this fight!"
She pointed toward Jax.
Who happened to be staring directly at them, about to say something.
Both sistersâ eyes landed on him at the same moment.
Their faces went from hopeful to absolutely horrified in a microsecond.
The Undies Man. Four pairs of panties draped across his face like trophies.
"What the actualâ" Sylvie started.
"Hey, Roxana!" Jax called out casually. "Catch!"
He threw his coat toward her, making sure to toss it carefully so it dragged along the ground without spilling anything.
"Retrieve the healing potions from the pockets."
Roxana caught it reflexively, her mind spinning.
âEven at his peak lust... heâs thinking about healing? About keeping us safe?â
She glanced at her own wounds, then at her sisterâs injuries.
âMaybe there is a mask he wears, he is forced to wear. Maybe the lustful act is just... performance? Maybe underneath all that perversion, he actuallyââ
"I need your help, Roxana." The Undies Manâs voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. "Donât let anyone escape from here. Lock them down. Beat them slightly if they try to run - but not too hard or theyâll die before Iâm done. Take those bottles and heal anyone who looks like theyâre about to pass out. Or feed them to whoever I tell you to feed."
Roxana looked at her sister apologetically.
Sylvieâs face was pure disgust. Absolute revulsion.
âHow... how can I tell her that our savior is the kind of man you warn children about? That mothers tell horror stories about to keep daughters safe?â
Her remaining pride - battered and bruised but still alive - kicked in as she know knew a plan.
"I am NOT following your dirty deeds anymore!" she declared.
Jax blinked behind his panty mask. "What?"
"What, âWHATâ?" Roxanaâs voice rose. "Iâve had ENOUGH! Why would I follow your orders? Youâre nobody to me now! Iâm not your junior anymore, youâre not a professor, youâre not ANYTHING except that horny pervert guy over there!"
She crossed her arms. "And what gain do I even get from this? Thereâs nothing left! Iâve saved my sister. I can just leave now!"
Jaxâs mind raced. "You... you have a lot of gain. I..." He paused, thinking hard. "I can give your kingdom back. You know? If you follow me. Iâm here to kill EACH ONE of these invaders. Remember? And to do that properly, I need to be mentally focused. Need to release all my testosterone before the big fight against their leader as I dont want my lust to kick in at wrong time. So I need you. For this moment."
Roxana smiled on the inside while keeping her face neutral.
âGot him.â
Sheâd done it. Trapped him perfectly in her game.
She knew Jax intimately now after their time together. He was moody, impulsive, easily distracted. One wrong moment, one source of annoyance, and he could abandon his entire plan. Walk away. Leave them all to die.
She needed insurance. A guarantee. An assurance he couldnât break even if he wanted to.
And sheâd just maneuvered him into exactly the right position. One more push...
"Then promise," she said coldly. "In the name of Adelina. Swear on her name that you will free the kingdom of Meridax."
Jaxâs eyes - visible through the gaps in his underwear mask - flicked toward the peach-haired girl, who was using the distraction to slowly crawl toward the exit.
"I promise," he said quickly, still tracking the escapee.
Then hastily added: "I PROMISE! In Adelinaâs name! Just do your thing already before she gets away!"
Roxanaâs smile turned devilish, though she kept it hidden.
âBargained with the devil himself. And won.â
Sheâd gotten him to swear on the ONE thing he actually cared about more than his own life. That promise would bind him more surely than any magic contract or divine oath.
She charged forward and locked the peach-haired girl in position. Her arms wrapped around the smaller womanâs wrists, pinning them behind her back in an iron grip.
"What next?" she asked.
Jax looked at her and began removing the underwear from his head, letting each piece fall to the ground one by one.
"Good. Now keep her exactly like that until Iâm done with one of them."
On the opposite side of the room, his boot came down hard on the red-haired girlâs back, pinning her face-first against the wall. She was thrashing like a fierce cat despite her exhaustion, all scratching and hissing and wild defiant energy.
So heâd planted his foot firmly between her shoulder blades, holding her in place like a hunter with fresh prey.
The other two girls were too far from his immediate reach.
Jax looked at Roxana meaningfully. She understood instantly.
Still keeping one hand locked on the peach girlâs wrists, Roxana moved toward the black-haired champion. The one with tits so large they were swinging wildly with every panicked breath.
Her free hand wrapped around the black-haired girlâs wrist - gentle but firm - and she guided her over to Jaxâs position like she was presenting a carefully wrapped gift.
"Here you go... Jax."
From across the room, propped against the wall, Queen Sylvie watched this entire exchange with wide, horrified eyes.
Her little sister. Her beloved Roxana.
âWhat... what has she become?â