Demon Lord Management Sim Game
33 33 – Calls
I sat in a lively pub in Beckingsale, a city less than the size of a Marystar but not as small as Silkdale.
"Two jugs of ale?" A blonde waitress placed my and Ayre's orders on the table. She lowered her body, showing her cleavage, then whispered to me. "If she isn't yours, I can give you something extraordinary, handsome."
"Thanks." I smiled at that woman in the skimpy and tight outfit. "But this drink is enough for me."
"If you change your mind, just tell me. My price is only 80 bronze coins per hour."
I lifted my jug, then she walked away wagging her butt, a gesture she clearly used to attract the attention of men.
Not long after, a man put his arm around her waist. They chatted for a moment, giggling, then went up to the second floor.
It is a common sight in this pub that doubles as a brothel.
I didn't find anything interesting here other than this pub. This city is just an ordinary area in a fantasy setting.
There's no adventurer guild headquarters, so the visitors to this pub are mostly ordinary workers. There's a temple, but it's even smaller than Silkdale's. And its religious leader is even worse than Marystar's. He always frowns and often ignores people who come to him.
And I haven't found any significant potential obstacles. Looks like it would be enough to send a mare and a succubus here to start the conquest.
"You're interested in him, Ayre?" I asked the shapeshifter, which is still in the form of my favorite actress. Ever since she entered this place, she had kept watching a bard playing a lute, a guitar-like musical instrument with a shorter handle and a more oval body. "In this city, you've always kept your eyes on people. This is the first time you're watching something else."
I invited her to this recon to observe humans, so she could improve her imitation skills. She, as general of the shapeshifter race, could pass that knowledge down to her subordinates.
Unfortunately, that doesn't apply to other abilities, especially fighting.
"A being like me shouldn't have any interest in anything." She drank her ale with her trademark blank stare. "I don't understand why I'm like this either."
I was about to comment, but an icon in my game UI is flashing red. There's a call from Phisovia.
"Look me in the eye, so I look like I'm talking to you," I ordered Ayre, then pressing the icon and asking Phisovia. "What is it?"
"I saw a large group of goblins, my lord." The red-haired succubus replied.
Walking with the three attractive girls will really catch people's attention.
"Are they coming to our base?" I sipped my drink, trying to act casual.
"No, your highness," Phisovia answered again. "Looks like they're heading towards Honeywich village."
I leaned back in the chair, thinking for a moment. "Could it be that when Ritor attacked the goblin's lair, some managed to escape and inform the other goblin colony?"
"Ah, this is revenge, huh?" Phisovia laughed sarcastically. "It turns out ugly creatures like them have a high sense of solidarity, even though they are different colonies."
"How many of them?"
"A moment…." Phisovia mumbled to count, only then responded. "Probably around 100, my lord. There's one that's so big like Ritor. Maybe, at this pace, in about two days, they'll reach the village."
That number was twice as large as what Ritor fought back then. Apparently, my two succubi don't need to intervene.
Unfortunately, Ritor and Garthur are still on a mission.
"You two, if Ritor can't get to that village, go back to base. Stay there until further orders from me."
There was a pause, then Phisovia chuckled. "You don't want your two women to come into contact with disgusting creatures like them, my lord?"
"You can read my mind." I grinned. "I'll try to contact Ritor to handle this."
After Phisovia said goodbye, I contacted the minotaur general. "Where are you, Ritor?"
"Garthur and I are on our way home, my lord. Maybe one more day we'll get there..."
"Good." I interrupted him. "Sorry, I know you're tired. But turn around and head to Honeywich village. There might be a goblin attack in two days. So you two should get there tomorrow."
There aren't as many worshippers in Honeywich Village as in Silkdale or Marystar, but I won't want any of my darkness points sources to be destroyed.
***
[Emily's POV]
In the afternoon, the keeper walked alone with a giant sword on her back. Several times she looked at the houses that were far from each other.
Apparently, for five hundred years, not much has changed. Not that she had ever visited that farm village, but the architecture of the houses was very similar to what she encountered hundreds of years ago.
"Can we help you, adventurer?" An old man with a thick mustache asked Emily from a distance. Behind him was a girl with wavy brown hair carrying a basket.
"I was just taking a walk." Emily continued to look around. Since she was no longer tied to the cave and her purpose was gone, she chose to go out to see the world. "So, do you know the nearest city, sir?"
"Lana, you better go." The old man whispered to the young woman behind him. "Let me speak to her."
Lana frowned. "You told me once, dad. You used to chat with Lord Vorn without suspecting him. Why is it different now?"
"Lord Vorn is different." The father insisted. "Look at that woman. Her face is super pale. It's so suspicious. Who knew she was a monster in disguise?"
Emily raised an eyebrow. Her skin does look whiter in the sun.
"You don't make any sense, dad." Lana sighed, then smiled at Emily. "Welcome to Honeywich Village. My name is Lana. Can I help you?"
Emily was about to continue the question, but rumbling was heard from afar.
The three looked down the road, finding two minotaurs running. The one in front ran with great intensity. Meanwhile, the one behind was so exhausted that his tongue was sticking out and fluttering.
"Why is he here!?" Emily took her sword and prepared to attack.
"Sir Ritor!!!" Lana was hysterical, dropped her basket of apples, then ran towards the minotaur general. "I miss you!?"
"What the fuck!!??" Emily's eyes widened until they looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.
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