Chapter 157: Running into an acquaintance

Since it wasn’t time yet, Phield returned to the inn and was just about to enter his room—

"Wait. Someone’s been here. He might be hiding inside." Rosalia’s voice came from within the greatsword at once, halting Phield’s movement. "The thin red thread I wedged in the doorframe has fallen to the ground. You specifically instructed that no one be allowed in."

"I see." Phield stepped back calmly and slowly drew his longsword. "Who could it be..."

There was no marker on the minimap. If someone was inside, then they had to be a contracted Divine Chosen.

With the Empire in turmoil, vigilance was necessary at all times.

Bang—!

Phield took a deep breath, steeled himself, and suddenly burst forward, kicking the door open in one swift motion.

"Wah! Who is it?!"

A pink figure was startled into flying through the air, her head slamming hard against the ceiling before she dropped back down with a thud.

"Ow... that hurts..." Sylvia rubbed her head, tears welling in her eyes.

"So it’s the one who owes me money. No wonder the soldiers didn’t notice you."

Phield sheathed his weapon and let out a long breath. Sylvia’s ability to turn into a shadow and move around made it perfectly normal that she went undetected. But when he looked up—

"Damn it! My ceiling!"

Seeing the cat-shaped dent smashed into the ceiling, Phield nearly fainted from anger. "That’s coming out of your pocket! I haven’t even had time to enjoy my gold yet!"

"You were the one who scared me first. Catfolk are very sensitive creatures."

Sylvia patted her chest repeatedly, glancing at Phield with a guilty expression.

"Oh, still talking back, are we?"

Phield shut the door behind him and strode forward without hesitation. His fingers slipped through Sylvia’s hair, gripping her slender neck as he pressed her down. His other hand brushed along her smooth leg, sliding upward without pause.

"I know you don’t have money, so you’ll repay it ’verbally.’ Including the damage to the ceiling, that makes three million and one hundred repayments. Don’t bother calling me a beast—I already admit it."

"W-what?! Three million times? How many kittens would that even be?!" Sylvia’s pink eyes trembled wildly. "Wah—don’t touch me!"

A strange sensation surged through her body. Her heart began pounding at an abnormal rate, her breathing turning rapid and uneven.

"Don’t—don’t touch there! That’s a place only my husband can touch! I have a way to repay the debt!"

At the critical moment, Sylvia transformed into a shadow and slipped free from Phield’s grasp.

Phield wiped his fragrant left hand, then crossed his arms with a cold smile. "Let’s see if you dare sneak into my room again. Take this as a lesson."

"I got it, I got it... but if I don’t sneak in, what else can I do?" Sylvia, still shaken, wiped her sweat and hurriedly apologized. Then she suddenly paused. "Wait... I’m a Divine Chosen. Why should I be afraid of you?"

With that, the catgirl puffed up proudly, hands on her hips. "Tear up the debt contract, or I’ll beat you up. There’s no one here who can threaten me."

"Go ahead and try. If I take even one step back, I’m not a man."

Phield shrugged indifferently. With the Greatsword of Gluttony on him, he had nothing to fear. If she dared to attack, she’d get a taste of being chained up and dragged around like a dog.

"Hmph, since you’re asking for a beating, don’t blame me."

Sylvia circled Phield several times, raising her fist a few times, but in the end she struggled and lowered her hand helplessly. "Forget it. I’m not as despicable as you humans. I’ll repay the debt on time."

"Despicable—it’s the passport of the despicable. Nobility—the epitaph of the noble."

Phield said it unconsciously.

Sylvia pondered for a moment, then nodded. "I didn’t expect you to say something so philosophical. Quite impressive."

"That doesn’t apply to you. If you had been a little more ’despicable’ just now, you’d be the one lying in a grave."

Sylvia turned her head disdainfully. "Arrogant bastard."

Phield poured himself a cup of tea and took a leisurely sip. "So you came to repay your debt this time? At least you know what’s good for you."

"Sorry... I can’t do that yet." Seeing Phield’s expression turn strange again, Sylvia quickly clamped her legs together, even tucking her tail in nervously. "But don’t worry—I’ve found a target. Next time, I’ll definitely bring repayment. I just came to inform you this time."

"Alright then. Still lurking around this manor—planning another assassination?"

"That’s a secret of our catfolk."

With that, Sylvia stuck out her tongue playfully and turned into a shadow, disappearing.

"Brat." Phield sighed. "Let’s just hope I don’t end up watching her ’defeat animation’ at the ball."

Rosalia chuckled softly. "The situation of catfolk is dire. I believe they’re not far from extinction."

⸻

At eight in the evening, Phield put on the specially prepared attire Simon had given him, donned the mask, and arrived at the designated location.

Just as Simon said, the outfit concealed one’s identity. When Phield looked into a mirror, he saw an entirely different man—deeply unsettling.

"It’s pitch black here... nothing at all."

Following the instructions in the magical letter, Phield arrived at a patch of grass. Looking around, all he saw was a quiet, empty field.

The moment he finished speaking, the letter emitted a black glow, forming a small magic circle on the ground.

"I see."

As soon as he stepped into the circle, his vision twisted.

As if something had been conjured out of nothing, voices suddenly filled the air.

A gentle melody from a satyr lute echoed by his ears, and then bright lights flashed, forcing Phield to squint.

When he opened his eyes—

The scene before him was utterly obscene.

Countless naked figures filled his vision—chatting, laughing, or openly engaging in intimate acts in public. What shocked him even more was that no one around seemed to care. It was treated as something completely ordinary.

Once again, the "unique" nature of Maple Leaf Territory was laid bare before him.

"...I think I’m the odd one out."

Phield adjusted his clothing. Fully dressed as he was, he actually stood out more than anyone else.

"Haha, where did this little cutie come from? Come here, let big sister ’collect’ you."

A seductive woman, clutching some strange device and walking awkwardly, approached him with a dazed smile, her breath hot.

"No thanks. Not interested."

Phield quickly turned his head away, thinking to himself: Don’t look around recklessly—this isn’t something to mess with. And truthfully, he wasn’t interested. Despite the overwhelming spectacle before him, a single glance was enough to cover every category imaginable—but he had no intention of sharing pleasure with men, beasts, or monsters.

"How boring."

The woman rolled her eyes and left.

"...So this is the real Maple Leaf Territory? It feels like just touching anything here would infect me with ten thousand diseases."

"Sir, your magical envelope displays your chips. Whether for purchases or games, you may use it as payment."