Late at night, the streets of Yoshiwara were burning even redder and hotter than usual.
In front of Mugenrou, the pinnacle of that splendor, a pitch-black, top-tier limousine slid smoothly into view.
It was a vehicle that did not fit the era of 1913.
As the driver opened the rear door, Akira, dressed in a sophisticated black suit, stepped out first. Then, with practiced ease, he reached out his hand to escort the woman inside.
"Wow~! Akira-san! Is this Yoshiwara? It's so sparkly and pretty!"
The woman who stepped out, her hair a swaying blend of pink and lime green, was Mitsuri.
She clung tightly to Akira's arm, looking around the surroundings with wide eyes.
Her attitude toward her husband, Akira, was that of an informal lover and a lovely wife itself.
"Look over there! Look at all those red lanterns! Are there places that sell mochi and snacks too?"
"Haha, Mitsuri. There's even more food inside. And remember, we're here for work today, so don't get too carried away."
Akira chuckled softly and stroked Mitsuri's hair.
Mitsuri's innocence and bright demeanor were a source of healing for many, including Akira.
At the entrance of Mugenrou, Tamamo was already lined up with her courtesans in greeting.
"Welcome, Master. And Mitsuri-san."
"It's been a while, Sister Tamamo! Your outfit is really pretty today!"
As Mitsuri waved happily, Tamamo smiled beneath her fox mask and bowed her head.
Akira entered in his demon form after a long while, and in response, Tamamo removed her mask.
"The matters you reported have been handled. The guests you mentioned, Master, are also prepared and waiting."
"Right, good work."
Akira wrapped his arm around Mitsuri's waist and headed toward the deepest and most private part of Mugenrou—the top-floor banquet hall known as the Tenshukaku.
When the doors to the banquet hall opened, a dreamlike scene unfolded along with a sweet scent of incense that tickled the nose.
And in the center, Tengen's wives—whom Akira had previously ordered to be captured—were kneeling demurely.
Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma.
Their appearances had changed shockingly.
Their sharp spirit as ninjas was nowhere to be found; only vacant, hazy eyes and languid expressions steeped in pleasure remained.
"Master… You've come."
As soon as the three women saw Akira, they crawled over as if they had been waiting and prostrated themselves at his feet.
"Akira-sama, I've been waiting…"
"Our new Master…"
Once Akira took the seat of honor and Mitsuri settled beside him, the three women clung to him as if competing.
"Akira-sama, please have a drink. Shall I warm it in my mouth for you?"
Suma buried her face between Akira's thighs and licked her lips. Her ample breasts were pressed against Akira's leg.
"Master, your shoulders are quite stiff. I'll loosen them for you."
Makio moved behind Akira's back, pressing her body heat, felt through her thin kimono, against him. Her touch was closer to a caress than a massage.
"Master… please, give me any order. This Hinatsuru is… yours."
Even Hinatsuru, usually the most composed, took Akira's hand and guided it toward her cleavage with a dazed gaze.
The seductive aura they emitted was intoxicating. It was an inescapable swamp of pleasure created by Tamamo's brainwashing and Shuten's intoxicating aura.
"Mmm…"
Akira's brow furrowed. Surely, the scene before him was the ultimate situation to stimulate a man's desire for conquest.
To break the wives of an enemy general and have them serve him—there could be no greater sense of corruption or victory.
However, Akira gently pushed Suma's head away and stayed Makio's hands.
"Enough. Stop at pouring the wine."
"Eh…?"
"Master… do you dislike us?"
The three women looked up at Akira, on the verge of tears. Akira shook his head firmly.
"No, it's not that I dislike it. But you three are married women. I have no hobby for touching another man's woman sexually."
Just then, Shuten, who was gulping down wine nearby, interjected.
"Oh my~ our Master is sounding like a total straight-laced milksop again. Come on! What does it matter? Just go ahead and NTL them properly!"
Shuten smacked Hinatsuru's bottom and gave a thin smile.
"Look at 'em. These girls are already so far gone for you they've lost their minds. You're the Master, so the Master does as he pleases. If that Tengen guy or whatever could see this, he'd be over the moon, wouldn't he? Kuhahahaha!"
"Shuten."
Akira's voice dropped low.
"I like taking things, and I enjoy dominating. But I have my own lines that I don't cross."
Akira fiddled with his wine cup as he continued.
"I have no desire to touch someone else's wife. That is my last bit of pride as a man—my humanity, my line in the sand. I don't care about killing them or making them slaves, but sexually violating another man's woman… that goes against my aesthetics. I'm not Cao Cao or David, you know."
It might have been a sophistry. Discussing morality after already brainwashing them into dolls was laughable.
But for Akira, that contradictory principle was important.
He drew a strict line when it came to the attribute of being a 'married woman'.
"Tch, how boring. You call yourself a Demon King, but you can be such a prude sometimes."
Shuten pouted. Beside him, Mitsuri blushed as she watched Akira.
"Akira-san really is wonderful! That kind of self-control is so sexy too!"
Mitsuri hugged Akira's arm tightly with a gaze of pure adoration. To her, everything about Akira was seen through rose-colored glasses.
Akira thought it was odd what she found sexy, but he also felt a sense of discomfort.
"Sigh… though even so, holding back is a chore."
Akira exhaled. Principles were principles, and instincts were instincts.
Only a eunuch wouldn't react to three beauties being coquettish right in front of him.
Akira's body was already burning hot.
"I guess I'll have to take it out on you three tonight—Mitsuri, Tamamo, and Shuten."
At Akira's words, Tamamo hid her mouth with a fan and laughed seductively.
"My, Master. We are honored that the three of us satisfy you… but the special appetizer I prepared just for you might feel left out."
"An appetizer?"
As Akira looked puzzled, Tamamo clapped her hands twice.
Clap, clap.
Then, the folding screen at the back of the banquet hall was pulled back, revealing a woman. She was dressed in provocative clothing that revealed most of her body, and the venomous expression she usually wore was gone, replaced by a shyly bowed head.
It was Daki.
"Daki? Why are you here?"
Akira's eyes went wide. Daki was only stationed as the face of Yoshiwara; he hadn't established any relationship beyond that with her.
Wasn't she famous for her foul personality?
But the current Daki was different. Blushing, she walked hesitantly toward Akira.
"Um… that is… Akira-sama…."
"Fufu, you have no idea how harshly this girl has been educated for you over the last few years, Master."
Tamamo explained as she wrapped an arm around Daki's shoulder.
"Mas… Master…."
Daki's voice was trembling. Her pride as the former Upper Moon Six, who had treated humans like insects, had been shattered to pieces by Tamamo's education.
"The one who is even stronger than Muzan."
Daki muttered as she kissed Akira's boot.
"I am merely the sister of a loser… a trophy of war… please, violate me to your heart's content… use me as a tool to vent your desires…."
Just as Tamamo had taught her, she defined her reason for existence solely as a tool for Akira's pleasure.
The memories of her brother had been overwritten by trauma and fear, and the void was filled with blind obedience to Akira.
"According to your principles, Master, this child is unmarried. Furthermore, conquering the sister of a fallen enemy general… isn't that quite a thrilling prospect?"
Tamamo's whisper was like a demonic temptation. The principle of not touching married women.
But that didn't apply to Daki. Moreover, killing an enemy and making his sister a slave.
This was indeed a trophy fit for a conqueror, a Demon King.
"Ha, you're quite logical, aren't you. It's so absurd I have to laugh. Even though I said I had no intention of touching her, you went ahead and educated her."
Akira burst into a hearty laugh.
"Fine. I like it very much. That Gyutaro fellow would be crying tears of blood in the afterlife. Well, it's his fault for committing the sins that sent him to hell in the first place."
Akira stood up and roughly lifted Daki's chin.
Daki's eyes, filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation, looked at Akira.
"You pass, Daki. Tonight, show me every technique you've learned."
"Yes… yes! Akira-sama…!"
Daki's expression brightened radiantly, yet lewdly.
"Good, tonight is a festival."
Akira pulled Daki up into his arms.
And then he took Mitsuri's hand beside him as well.
"Mitsuri, you don't mind, do you?"
"Mm! Of course! Daki-chan, Sister Tamamo, and Sister Shuten are all our family! If you're happy, Master, then I'm happy too!"
Naturally, Mitsuri felt no jealousy; instead, she was delighted that their family had grown. This open-mindedness(?) of hers was another reason Akira loved her.
"Shuten, Tamamo. You come as well."
"Puhuhu~ That's my Master! You better be ready to have your back broken tonight~!"
Shuten rushed in excitedly while undoing her clothes, and Tamamo also smiled as she elegantly discarded her outer garment.
"You may look forward to it, Master."
Akira was surrounded by the four women—Mitsuri, Daki, Tamamo, and Shuten. His steps toward the deepest bedroom of Mugenrou were light.
And behind them, Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma remained, smiling with hollow eyes.
"Have a safe trip, Master…."
"May you have a blissful night…."
They were not chosen. But, brainwashed to the point of being incapable of jealousy, they simply offered their blessings as they watched their Master go to share pleasure with the other women.
It was a cruel, yet strange and transgressive scene that could only be found in a world ruled by the Demon King Akira.
And so, the night of Yoshiwara was filled with the hot breath of the Demon King and his women.
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