"You're actually settling down here?"
Tohru blinked in surprise.
Lucoa—one of the supreme gods, watcher of worlds—almost never left her domain.
As a member of the Observer Faction, she was bound to neutrality; she didn't fight in the divine wars, but she always had to keep an eye on their tides.
Lucoa simply nodded, smiling.
"This world's quite interesting," she said.
"Stay a few days—you'll understand."
Tohru didn't answer immediately. Uncertainty flickered in her red-gold eyes.
Could someone like her—who'd spent ages completely alone—really fit into a place like this?
She glanced around the tavern.
Rem and Ram were busy clearing glasses; the black cat behind the counter dozed lazily, tail flicking.
Finally her gaze stopped on Ron.
"Is it… all right?" she asked softly.
Ron nodded. "If you like it here, you can work at the tavern.
No pay—just food and board."
He wasn't trying to be a stingy boss; he just knew Tohru probably didn't need money.
Dragons, after all, were magpies for treasure—hoarders of gold and gems, not coins or wages.
Rem trotted over, tugging gently at Tohru's sleeve.
"If you get scared of the dark at night, you can sleep with me—or with my sister," she said kindly.
Ram nodded beside her, smiling her small, proud smile.
That single sentence—so simple, so warm—melted the last of the ice in Tohru's heart.
She reached out and ruffled Rem's hair, eyes shimmering. "All right…"
"Then let's get your room ready," Rem said, already pulling her by the hand toward the back.
Ron blinked. Hold on a second…
What's happening? Why does this feel like I just lost a staff member to someone else's harem?
Before he could overthink it, the familiar chime echoed in his head.
[Ding! Customer Tohru has completed her emotional disclosure.]
[Ding! Disclosure subject: End Emperor. The individual will soon visit the tavern.]
[Reward: Dragon Magic or Dragon Physique—select one.]
"I'll take Dragon Magic," Ron replied without hesitation.
He'd already absorbed Dragon Physique from Lucoa; doubling up would be pointless.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host. Dragon Magic acquired. Initiating fusion.]
His mind flooded with new information—dense runes, ancient chants, formulas of power.
And the strangest thing—he understood them. Instinctively.
As if they'd always been written into his blood.
Must be because of the physique I already fused… he thought, and dove into study.
The spell list was vast: teleportation, invisibility, body-shifting, berserker enchantments—Dragon magic had it all.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
Even after the tavern closed, Ron stayed behind the counter, completely absorbed.
Near midnight, fatigue finally hit him. He lit a cigarette, watching smoke curl into lazy spirals.
Then—a soft, languid voice broke the silence.
"Is that a cigarette?"
"Let me try one."
Ron looked up—and found Lucoa leaning close, her face inches from his.
She hadn't gone to bed at all; she'd been sitting on the counter the whole time, watching him.
They were so near he could hear each other breathe.
"You smoke?" Ron asked quietly.
"I can learn anything," she said with a teasing smile. "Smoking's no exception."
She took the cigarette from his fingers, parted her lips, and drew on it.
In the hush of the room, even the faint sizzle of her breath on the tip sounded loud.
Lucoa wasn't exactly a quick study—the smoke lingered in her mouth, then spilled out in a pale cloud that drifted across Ron's face.
He didn't move.
The scent of her breath and the cigarette mingled, wrapping him in a hazy warmth.
The air thickened; their breathing deepened, rhythmic, unsteady—like something long suppressed was stirring between them.
"Tell me," she murmured, voice low and rough with allure, "does this count as an indirect kiss?"
Ron stayed still, pretending calm, though his pulse pounded hard enough to betray him.
Seeing him hold steady, Lucoa smirked, drew another few slow pulls, then pressed the half-burned cigarette back between his lips—her taste lingering on the filter.
He exhaled, smoke coiling upward like a pale tide.
The moment hung, taut and wordless.
Then—soft footsteps from the back.
Lucoa glanced toward the sound, sighed, and her golden eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Shame. Guess I'll stop teasing you for tonight."
And with that, her voluptuous silhouette shimmered and vanished.
A moment later, Tohru padded in from the back hall, wearing Rem's spare sleepwear—barefoot, hair tousled, cheeks damp with sweat.
The little dog print on her chest looked one size larger on her frame.
"Water?" she asked softly.
Ron poured her a glass. "What happened?"
Tohru drained half in a gulp before speaking.
"I dreamed… of the battle. Alone against the Gods. I felt the sword strike—saw the light they threw at me."
Her voice trembled. "It hurt. But I didn't run. I roared back at them."
She set the cup down, exhaling. "Then I woke up."
Ron turned toward the window. "Did it hurt a lot?"
She nodded. "Very much."
"And now?"
"Now it doesn't," she said quietly.
"Good," he murmured. "Then rest. Good night."
He stretched, walked past her, and headed for his room.
Tohru watched his back as he went, and something warm flickered behind her eyes.
"Good night," she whispered.
She returned to her room, listening to the soft rhythm of Rem's breathing, and for the first time in ages—slept deeply.
That night, her dreams were calm.
Morning.
The tavern opened as usual, sunlight spilling across the counter.
Only now, a new maid joined the morning bustle—
a blonde girl in a frilly uniform, smile faint but genuine.
During breakfast, Ron began the "daily orientation" for Tohru and Lucoa.
"Ahem—lesson one," he said, tapping the counter.
"If someone picks a fight, gang up. No solo duels. If you can't win—run."
"Lesson two: no tabs. Small business, tight books.
Men who owe money—break their legs.
Women who owe—uh, make them… work it off.
At the bar, of course."
Tohru took diligent notes in a tiny notebook, nodding.
"These training sessions are… amusing," she whispered to Lucoa.
Lucoa chuckled. "Just wait. They get much more amusing."
As Ron continued his very questionable lecture, the bell above the door jingled.
Ding-ling!
Two tall men stepped in—each wearing a Marine coat emblazoned with the word Justice across the back.
Tohru stood up at once, polite and composed.
"Welcome," she said with a warm smile.
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