*** The danger of charm magic
Once we're alone, Nolan finally explains what's going on: there's been a surge in incidents involving high-profile awakened women getting hit by charm magic. That's… very bad. Charm isn't like other spells—the longer it lingers, the harder it is to break, something about the victim slowly developing genuine feelings. No wonder Nolan and the rest of the NAA look so tired—they're probably scrambling to track down and free affected awakeners as quickly as they can.
But what does any of that have to do with me?
Nolan gets to that point. There's a major event coming up—tons of awakeners gathering in one place, basically a buffet for whoever's been using the charm magic.
"Wait." I narrow my eyes, already sensing trouble. "You're not about to ask me to be bait, are you?"
"You'd just have to show up as my plus one—"
"No." Immediate shutdown.
"Come on! We can hype you up as a rising star—the rookie who soloed a goblin king! And with your avatar's appearance, you'll definitely lure those guys out. Plus, you're resistant to charm magic. You're perfect for this," he insists.
"Dude, I'm not playing honey trap for you," I shoot back.
"Please!" Nolan pleads. "You'd do me a solid—and it would fast-track your entire awakener career."
That last part gets my attention. And Nolan sees it.
"You'd get the full support of the NAA to promote your achievements. That'll lead to forming parties easier, joining raids in other realms, earning new titles, and maybe even ranking up."
…That's possible? Being able to access other people's realms is very tempting. Bloody Valley is way above my level right now, and getting new skills from ranking up would be a massive advantage.
"And you owe me," Nolan adds, way too smugly.
"Ugh. Fine. I'll think about it," I mutter. Honestly, I should never have let him do me favors.
"Great!" Nolan voices, acting like he's already won. "I'll swing by after work so we can get you something appropriate for the event." And just like that, he turns to leave.
"Ugh, fine, I'll see you—wait! It better not be a dress!" I call after him, but he's already halfway down the hall. "I mean it, Nolan!"
Oh, who am I kidding? Of course it's going to be a dress. Ugh. He's going to owe me so much for this.
*** The dress
As promised, Nolan swung by my place later and drove me—in my succubus form—straight to a high-end boutique, the kind that only sells fancy dresses. I shoot him a deadpan glare the moment we pull into the parking lot.
"Relax, the NAA's covering the bill," he says.
"That is not the problem, and you know it," I snap.
"Oh, come on. You need to look the part if the bait's going to work." He flashes a smug grin.
Ugh. There's no arguing with this stubborn mule. I sigh and climb out of the car. Honestly, I'd already resigned myself to this. Still doesn't make it less awkward.
Inside, the place is small but packed with designer dresses—stuff straight out of red-carpet events. How does Nolan even know such a place?
"Fran! I got a customer for you!" Nolan calls.
A tall, impeccably dressed man glides into the room. Tailored suit, flawless hair, moving like he's about to tango with the air.
"OMG! Is this the rookie you told me about? Nolan, sweetie, you didn't mention she was this adorable!" He squeals.
"What can I say?" Nolan chuckles. "Words don't do her justice."
Since when is he a poet?
"Oh, absolutely," Fran agrees.
Ugh. Don't agree with him; he's just having fun messing with me.
I give Nolan a pointed glare: I will remember this.
"A-anyway," he coughs, wisely stepping back, "do you think you can do your magic on this one?"
"Of course!" Fran says. "Now, darling, let's make you fabulous."
And he gives me a look down—but keeps it professional. Didn't linger on my bust like most guys do. He didn't even react when he spotted my tail. I guess he's used to dealing with awakened customers.
"You have such lovely eyes—and that hair! I'm obsessed," Fran gushes, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Honestly, darling, choosing just one dress for you is impossible."
"How about something that really draws attention?" Nolan offers, unable to resist causing mischief.
"Attention-grabbing? Oh, then I know exactly what you need," Fran sings, gliding over to a rack. He plucks out a dress and holds it up with dramatic flair.
…It's definitely attention-grabbing. A deep purple number with a neckline so low it may as well file for public indecency.
Behind me, I hear Nolan desperately trying—and failing—to stifle a laugh at the mental image of me wearing that thing.
I roll my eyes. "Do you really think I need help standing out with looks like these?" I gesture at myself.
It isn't bragging. Unfortunately, I am painfully aware of how impossible it is not to draw attention in this form.
"Just give me something modest." I state.
Fran nods approvingly. "Confident. I like her." Then he sweeps off to another part of the boutique.
Confident? No. Absolutely not. I was complaining, not boasting. Whatever—explaining myself would take too long.
He returns with another dress—black, of course—shoulders exposed but otherwise simple, elegant, and modest. Exactly what I asked for.
"That'll work," I say.
"Wonderful! Then let's get your measurements," Fran says, already pulling out a measuring tape.
He's… tailoring the dress specifically for me? As much as I hate the idea of wearing such a thing, I have to admit—that's impressive service.
For the next hour, Fran works with absolute focus. He measures everything. And I mean everything. Not just the usual three sizes—leg length, shoulder width, the placement of my tail, underbust… If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was mapping me for a custom mannequin.
"My word, darling—you have some truly extraordinary proportions," he says at last, finally setting down his measuring tape.
Normally, I'd groan at such a comment—but coming from him… I don't know. It feels… different. Like he's admiring a masterfully shaped sculpture, not ogling a body. I end up accepting the compliment without protest.
"Come back in five days and I'll have a masterpiece ready for you, darling," Fran announces, already drifting toward his workspace. "And Nolan—thank you for bringing me such an exquisite canvas." He pauses, then adds sweetly, "I'm still charging you full price."
"Ha! Wouldn't expect anything less," Nolan fires back.
With that, we head out of the boutique.
"Alright, the wardrobe's handled. Next, we need to build up your reputation," Nolan says confidently.
Ah yes—the whole 'she soloed a goblin king' story.
"And how exactly are we supposed to do that?" I ask. It's not like people can just… see my titles floating over my head.
Nolan grins. That grin. The I'm-about-to-volunteer-some-poor-soul-for-my-plan grin. At least this time it's not aimed at me. Whoever he's dragging into this—He has my sympathies.
*** Let's promote
The next day, I'm back at the NAA per Nolan's request.
"M–Miss Violet! I'm, um, honored to be working with you today!" Mika blurts out the moment she spots me. Still the same tightly wound ball of nerves as before—though now she's geared up in a mage robe and enchanted accessories.
I raise a brow at Nolan, silently demanding an explanation.
"Mika here has graciously volunteered to accompany you on a hunt," Nolan says.
"…Why?" I ask, keeping my tone as gentle as possible so as not to stress Mika even more.
"I—I'll be using my skill to record your adventure!" Mika squeaks.
"That's right!" Nolan jumps in. He explains—loudly—that only appraisal mages can record inside realms, which is why they often get assigned to well-known awakeners to document their achievements.
"Y-yes! I'm eager to record your exploits, Miss Violet!" she says with a shaky salute.
I stare at her—a bundle of excitement and nerves.
"Let me guess… Nolan forgot to mention we're going to the Goblin Forest?"
The moment I say it, her salute drops. And Nolan had conveniently disappeared.
Another victim tossed into the deep end by Nolan. I sigh. "Don't worry—I'll make sure nothing happens to you." I assure her. Or at least, I try to. It's hard to look reassuring when you're only 155 cm tall.
Mika lets out a tiny whimper. Poor girl. Nolan better pay her extra for this.
Anyway—
"You have a light source?" I ask. "The realm's pretty dark." Not that I would know.
"N-no… b-but I can use my third eye to see in the dark!" she quickly adds.
Good. At least she won't be stumbling blindly in the dark.
All that's left is…
"How exactly do I bring someone to my realm?" I ask Mika.
"T—to bring someone into your realm, simply make physical contact." She answers, her receptionist training kicking in.
"Well, then." I offer her my hand.
Mika hesitates—understandably—but she eventually takes my hand.
A second later, we're standing in the middle of the Goblin Forest, with the goal of having Mika see me defeat a goblin king by myself. Easy enough. It's just my usual routine: find a goblin, intimidate it into running away to a shaman, then let the shaman lead me straight to the king.
Mika trailed behind me the whole way. She started out a bundle of shaking nerves, but after seeing me flatten the first batch of goblins with overpower, she eased up fast. Nothing like having the equivalent of a tank by your side to make you feel safe even in hostile territory.
Once we reached the goblin king, I didn't bother with theatrics—I just charged in, hit overpower, and decked the oversized gremlin square in its huge green nose. Fight over in a single hit. The rest scattered like terrified pigeons.
And just like that, job done.
…But then I remembered this was supposed to be promo material for my "accomplishments."
Maybe I should've gone easy on the big guy? Let it be more of a fight. Something for the highlight reel?
"No way!" Mika practically shouted. "This is perfect! The way you just casually take down the goblin king like it's nothing? People will eat it up!"
She was so excited she actually stopped stuttering.
"And you did it with no gear! It's like you're saying you don't even need any!"
"Uh, no, that's not—" I tried to correct her, but she steamrolled right past me.
"We can brand it as extreme raiding! Or—ooh!—the minimal-gear slayer challenge!"
She kept spiraling into her own brainstorming session.
…Well, as long as she's happy.
We left the forest shortly after, and Mika sprinted off to—who knows. Edit the footage, probably. Either way, my role is done.
*** The event
A few days later, I found myself at the gala—yes, actually wearing the dress Fran made. It was a sleek black number that left my shoulders bare and offered a hint of cleavage. I still can't tell if that was a deliberate design choice or if my chest is just too big for full coverage. Well, it's too late to complain now.
Besides, if I'm going to complain about something, it's going to be about these high heels. How anyone walks in these torture devices is beyond me. If it weren't for my tail acting as a built-in stabilizer, I'd have face-planted at least five times by now.
"You're looking great, Jax—uh, Violet," Nolan compliments.
I shot him a glare. "Not. One. More. Word. From. You."
I'd already threatened him multiple times to stop him from taking pictures of me in this outfit.
He raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, I just wanted to tell you to go mingle with the crowd. And keep an eye out for anyone suspicious."
Right. The charm-casting creep we're all working overtime because of.
I nod, snag a drink off a passing waiter's tray, and take in the room.
The place is extravagant. A wide ballroom with tables set up full of bite-sized food—the kind sprinkled with caviar. But what set this event apart was the guests. Awakeners, many in their avatar forms, though wearing formal wear instead of their usual raiding gear. I could see people with flaming hair, glowing tattoos, blue skin—you name it, it was here.
Now the question was: how exactly does one "mingle"?
Most of the crowd seemed focused on cozying up to the heavy hitters—probably trying to join their group or curry favor. There was the Happy-Go-Getters, a trio of young women. I've been seeing them in advertisements lately. Magia-Plus, the magic nerds who treat spells like scientific research. And the biggest name in the room: The Saviors, led by Victor—a strong pretty boy surrounded by a squad of gorgeous women with rare classes. Though not much is known about him.
"Excuse me, but are you Violet?"
I turn to see a flock of people forming around me.
"Um… Yes?" I answer.
"Oh—wow! It is you! I watched that footage of you taking down the goblin king all by yourself. Is it true you're still tier one?"
Looks like Mika did a good job promoting that footage. Maybe a little too well.
Within minutes I was swarmed—questions flying at me, hands reaching out to shake mine, and people trying to recruit me on the spot.
I tried to keep up, answering what I could, but it was overwhelming. How do people deal with this kind of attention?
"Miss, an honor to finally meet you," said some young man whose name I'd already forgotten. I shook his hand, ready to move on to the next overeager fan when—
A wave of greasy magic brushed against my senses—like someone trying to tint my entire perception a rosy pink.
My gaze snapped to the man still holding my hand. He didn't look like an awakened, but that strange pulse definitely came from him—no. Not from him. From his ring. Some kind of enchanted gear?
The moment he saw me staring at his hand, his eyes went wide. Panic. Yeah, he was absolutely up to something. He tries to bolt, but not on my watch.
I flicked out my tail—humans never expect tails—and swept his legs clean out from under him. He crashed to the floor, and before he could scramble away, I planted my heel firmly between his shoulder blades. He let out a high-pitched squeal as I pressed down.
Huh. Maybe these shoes aren't so bad after all.
I seized his arm and wrenched it upward—ignoring the fact that it was very much not the direction it was meant to bend—to get a better look. The ring was definitely sketchy. Pulsing with magic. How did an unawakened use something like that? No clue. For now…
I looked up.
The entire room was staring at me like I'd just assaulted some random dude. Which, in fairness, I did, but whatever.
"Anyone here with an appraisal?" I called out.
"Y—yes!" Came the voice of a woman in a red piece and long bangs—
Hey! It's Mika! Nolan must have dragged her here as well to keep watch.
Good thing too. Thanks to her, I was able to clear up any confusion.
Turns out, the ring was enchanted with a charm spell—one that automatically triggered when it makes contact with an awakened.
With that revelation, the perp was dragged out by security. There were still a ton of questions—like how did he even get such a thing—but that's for someone else to figure out.
For now, I'm just glad my job is done. Now I can leave this place and get out of this dress, these heels, and this entire event before someone decides to ask me for an interview.