“Ah! Goshujin-sama! Goshujin-sama! Kimochi ii!”

The enticing melody of a woman’s passionate cries drifted from behind the wooden door of a chamber. Petula’s cheeks flushed crimson as she listened, her gaze fixed on the ground in embarrassment.

In contrast, Daisuke’s mind was consumed by the image of the lifeless woman lying on the pedestal. As he considered the fact that it could have been April, Mia, or his own mother, anger stirred with him like a storm.

BOOOM!

With little restraint, he kicked the door in, sending it flying violently across the room. Inside, sprawled on a sofa and wearing a lewd expression, was a hefty young man with small facial features and a large head.

In a panic, he snapped his head to the side, ripping his attention away from the holographic screen displaying adult content, to the source of the disturbance. When he spied the vile contortions of Daisuke’s face, he released his unimpressive noodle and pushed to his feet with a squeal, lifting his greasy hands in surrender.

“Kyaaa~” Petula turned away from the shameful sight with a cry.

In the same beat, Daisuke flung a kunai he had salvaged from the earlier skirmish. It zipped between the bastard’s legs, narrowly missing his dangling genitals. Startled, he let out another frightened squeal, his wiener shriveling up like a crumpled piece of paper.

“B-Bro, what the hell?! Wh-Who the hell are you people?” He stammered ungracefully, his body slick with sweat.

“First,” Daisuke began sternly, even as the Eye of Verity scanned the pervert’s stats. “Why don’t you re-equip the lower half of your garment.”

“R-Right,” he mumbled, quickly accessing his equipment menu.

Petula slowly lowered her hands from her eyes, though a lingering flush still colored her cheeks.

The young man cleared his throat, his confidence returning now that he was fully garbed. “Um, yeah, sorry about the whole, you know, undignified scene earlier,” he muttered, casting a quick glance at Petula to gauge if she was impressed by the glorious sight of his magnificent pole. Then he turned to Daisuke again with a frown. “But seriously,” his tone suddenly changed, now rough and irritated. “Why’d you have to break my door? And who are you guys anyway?”

Internally, the hentai-fapping-horndog was sweating bullets; he wasn’t at all as confident as he made himself seem. His chibi persona paced back and forth in a panic, hoping he didn’t get flattened like a pancake for his assertiveness that was in fact bravado.

Truth be told, he was a mage—a class known for their powerful offensive magic. But the fact that the silver-haired boy just used a kunai likely meant his build was of the assassin class, so despite all the firepower a mage possessed, it was pointless if none of those attacks could find their mark. And, even before that, his throat would likely be cut open before he could weave together the incantation for a spell.

Instead of fighting, he would opt to resolve this conflict with diplomacy. But he had to display some level of assertiveness to ensure he wasn’t taken likely—hence his stern tone earlier.

“Y-You’re a player, aren’t you?” he ventured, picking up on the gaming jargon Daisuke had used earlier—’reequip’ instead of ‘get dressed’. “I’m surprised to see a fellow Fallen in a place like this. Name’s Ben… Ben Dova,” he chuckled, clearly amused by his own play on words. “Get it? Bendova?!”

DING!

[Player | Bendova | Lvl 72 | Mage]

“I was told you’re the one I needed to talk to about the experiments being conducted here,” Daisuke stated matter-of-factly, his expression indecipherable.

Ben’s eyes went wide, as if he had finally solved a difficult question he had been struggling with all this time. “Ah, so that explains how you can be here right now,” he grinned with a nudging gesture. “You must be interested in investing in our little operation, too, huh?”

Daisuke’s gaze narrowed. “Then you’re the one calling the shots?”

Ben shrugged nonchalantly, a grin playing on his lips as he adjusted his hair with a casual flick. “Nah, not exactly,” he replied in a laid-back tone. “I pitched the idea for the experiments and chipped in with most of the cash, but the Mhaledictus are the ones running the show. They’ll be raking in most of the profits when all’s said and done.”

Daisuke’s anger finally boiled over, his golden eyes blazing with intensity as the name of the organization rang in his ears. “So you’ve thrown in your lot with that filth,” he spat out, each word dripping with venom.

Ben recoiled, a cold shiver running down his spine. Why’s he so angry? Did he fail a quest or something?

Before he could conjure up another possible theory, his vision suddenly dimmed, engulfed by the shadow of Daisuke’s approaching palm. Steel-like fingers enclosed around his face in a vice-like grip. He let out a pained cry as the silver-haired assailant zipped across the chamber with him, slamming the back of his head into the wall. The force left a deep crater, cracks spider-webbing outward like the gnarled branches of a petrified tree.

Ben groaned weakly, warm blood trickling down the side of his head from the wound. W-What the hell? I lost… one-third of my health from that single attack?

Daisuke seized the flabby bastard by the neck and lifted him effortlessly off the ground, his rage lending him a strength beyond his usual. “Spill everything you know,” he growled, his grip becoming tighter with each passing moment.

Ben gasped for air, his face turning blue. He desperately tried to break free, but he couldn’t escape Daisuke’s monstrous grip. What’s with this ridiculous strength? He thought incredulously. Isn’t this guy supposed to be an assassin?

“Speak!” Daisuke hissed menacingly, his eyes burning.

“D-Don’t be an idiot!” Ben wheezed, his voice strained. “I don’t know what kind of quest you’ve got, but it’s seriously about to destroy your life. You’re playing a game you can’t win. The Mhaledictus isn’t a group you want to mess with—they’re ruthless. If you go after them, you’ll be signing your own death warrant.”

“Now where have I heard that line before,” Daisuke said mockingly, his grip still tightening.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Dude, just hear me out,” Ben persisted pleadingly. “You’re an otaku, right? Most gamers are. Then have you never considered it?” He took a breath. “There are hundreds of different species of girls in the game… just ripe for the picking. Don’t tell me you’ve never… fantasized about spending a hot night with even half of them?”

Daisuke’s jaw clenched, his gaze sharpening like a honed blade as his fingers kept tightening around the despicable bastard. Despite his gasps for air, Ben continued to babble, insistent on forcing Daisuke to comply.

He explained that when a player reached maximum affinity with an NPC, the intimacy gauge became available. The opportunity to engage in sexual relations with NPCs hinged entirely on the level of intimacy achieved. If these two attributes were the only requirements to do the steamy deed, then it wouldn’t have been so bad.

But in addition to the intimacy level, there was an additional hurdle: players must first attain noble status, which, of course, was no easy feat. Zenith justified this demanding requirement as a means to distinguish dedicated players and reward their commitment to the game.

Adding insult to injury, even after surmounting these challenging requirements, the sex feature is restricted to once per week. This limitation served as a deterrent, encouraging players to prioritize building relationships with real-world partners. Moreover, it preserves the game’s core focus on exploration and personal development.

Despite Zenith’s well-intentioned motives, the sex-crazed Ben was visibly frustrated. Recognizing the impossibility of hacking the game from the outside to get what he wanted, he attempted an in-game approach. The solution he found was to reduce all female NPCs to submissive sex slaves, and neurolchemy was the method to achieve that goal.

Daisuke’s voice dropped to a dangerous undertone. “And what about the NPCs’ feelings? They don’t get a say in whether they’re exploited and violated just for your pleasure?”

Ben regarded Daisuke as though he had lost his mind. “Huh? Feelings? …What the hell are you talking about, man?” Ben shot back, his voice strained. “They’re just NPCs! Their emotions are computer simulations; it’s not real!”

Daisuke’s lip curled in disdain at the bastard’s response. However, there was one more question burning in his mind. “Why NPCs? Wouldn’t it be simpler to have a relationship with another player?”

“…It’s… not that simple,” Ben explained with a cough, his face growing pale. “Being… an otaku comes with its own set of challenges, you know? I’ve got zero confidence and social skills to interact with real people. If it was… even remotely possible for me to get a real girlfriend, then I wouldn’t have spent the last few years grinding and saving gold to fund this research.”

In recognition of their commitment to the game, rankers earned the privilege to form intimate bonds with other players of the same caliber. To complement this aspect and enhance player expression, the character creation screen provided options to align one’s sex with their gender identity and to personalize appearance with piercings and tattoos. This feature, as you would imagine, sparked controversy in many social circles.

Unfortunately, character personalization had its limitations: fundamental aspects like height, weight, eye color, hair color, and facial structure remained unchangeable. Of course, if an individual changed their gender, their bone structure would have to be altered by extension, but not enough that they would look like an entirely different person.

Ben’s voice trembled with urgency as he fought to stay conscious. “So, I’ll ask again,” he wheezed, his voice barely audible. “Don’t you want… to enjoy the benefits of this research? Just think about… all the vag… and the millions of gold we’d make before the developers manage to release a patch. You haven’t… gone to the Primal Glade yet, have you? If you had, you’d see things from my perspective.”

Daisuke regarded Ben with a blend of scorn and pity, recognizing the depravity behind his desire to turn female NPCs into submissive playthings. It was a testament to the twisted mindset of someone who was both sex-deprived and narcissistic.

In moments like this, the game’s ambition for absolute realism could be seen as a double-edged sword. In a typical MMORPG, the notion of using science to brainwash and manipulate NPCs would be absurd.

As Daisuke mulled over this, memories of unlocking 50% intimacy with Vivienne without even a single percent in affinity flooded his mind. He briefly pondered the extent of his privileges being part NPC, but amidst the raging flames of his anger, all other thoughts faded into insignificance.

“I see… what this is,” Ben persisted. “Bro, if vag isn’t your thing… and you’re more into guys, then it’s a simple matter of—”

Without batting an eyelash, Daisuke summoned another kunai from his inventory and, without a hint of hesitation, mercilessly thrust it into the bastard’s mouth, extinguishing the last flicker of his remaining health.

Ben convulsed, choking on the blade as a mixture of disbelief and agony twisted his expression. In stark contrast, Daisuke stood stoically, lost in thought as a radiant column of golden light consumed the megalomaniac’s vanishing form.

Another trade-off to the game’s hyperrealism and scope of freedom was that its content could oftentimes get incredibly dark. In the real world, nature was beautiful, but that was only on the surface; the animal kingdom was a brutal and savage place.

And, as much as human beings were at the apex of the species, blessed with unrivaled intelligence and ingenuity, at their core, their behavior was even more callous than the laws of the jungle.

Every single individual had to live with their own demons—hate, greed, lust, selfishness—the only thing keeping these primal urges in check were societal criticism, the justice system, and the loyal souls who enforced it. But in Sehreneti, even though the same measures for law and order existed, there was still more leeway for the pursuit of one’s dark and heinous desires considering the nature of this world.

You would think the reality that people technically wore their real faces in the game would be enough of a deterrent to prevent them from falling into degeneracy, but, alas, it wasn’t enough to suppress the fact that this world was, without a shadow of a doubt, a—

Daisuke couldn’t bring himself to admit it. If the game wasn’t real, then wasn’t he inadvertently devaluing his own existence?

DING!

[The quest «Liberation of the Florians» has been received.]

[Liberation of the Florians]

[Quest Difficulty: A

The Florians, a small and peaceful race, face challenges far greater than their size would suggest. Enchanted by their diminutive form, Florian females have fallen victim to the clutches of an evil organization, condemned to ruthless exploitation as slave laborers and unwilling participants of prostitution.

Yet, even graver atrocities await some among them, as they become unwilling subjects of cruel scientific experiments.

Clear Conditions: Liberate the imprisoned Florians and vanquish those responsible for their plight before their nefarious ambitions come to fruition.

Rewards:

▪︎ EXP +115,000

▪︎ Title: The Liberator of Slaves

▪︎ Runetablet ×2

▪︎ Reinforcement Tablet x3

▪︎ 280 Gold

Quest Failure:

▪︎ Completion of the brothel

▪︎ Prolonged suffering of the captives

▪︎ Tragic loss of Petula and her husband

▪︎ Untimely demise of Reeza]

Daisuke dismissed the holographic window with a simple mental command. My first A-rank quest, he thought as he slowly turned around. Interesting… even the quest description didn’t divulge much information about the Mhaledictus, which is pretty ominous.

Petula stood like a frightened lamb in the distance, her head hung low. She pressed her lips into a tight line as Daisuke strode past her without a word. Her sole responsibility had been to guide him safely past the traps, yet even in this simple task, she had failed miserably.

And yet…

“Why? Why are you keeping me alive?!” she shouted in a blend of dread and frustration. She kept her head down, fingers balled into fists, and her eyes remained tightly shut, replaying the brutal scene of the man’s demise just moments ago.

Daisuke halted.

And Petula’s heart skipped a beat.

There was a deafening moment of silence.

“…I’ve seen firsthand how poverty, starvation, and especially torture can twist a person’s mind and compel them to do things they wouldn’t normally do,” Daisuke said in a soft tone, his words laced with empathy amidst his own inner conflict. “While I was furious when I first saw you, I’ve had time to reflect, and I realize that your actions were likely driven by circumstances beyond your control.”

Petula raised her head at his thoughtful words, hot tears pooling in her eyes.

“The blame lies with those who willingly embrace such a malicious lifestyle without remorse. Like that bastard we saw earlier,” he spat scornfully before resuming his stride. “Thanks for trying to protect me earlier. Let’s go and free your husband.”

Petula sank to her knees, her tears distorting the image of Daisuke as he moved farther away. His compassionate words enveloped her like a warm cocoon, thawing the icy grip of self-loathing around her heart. Unable to resist any longer, she surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sorrow and relief washing over her.