The air in the Guild Hall had grown so dense with holy mana that it felt like breathing liquid gold.
Saintess Lucy took some steps forward until she stood inches away from Mordecai.
Then, her hand raised, radiating a light so pure it threatened to bleach the very concept of shadows from the room.
The sight of her made his cynical heart rage in disgust.
The 'Divine Audit' was charging.
Everyone stared at the scene, clearly scared, just like when someone is scrolling through your browser history.
Mordecai could see the magical code forming in the air around her fingertips—a complex algorithm designed to strip away disguises, bypass stealth skills, and lay bare the soul of the target.
For a normal adventurer, it would show their alignment, their level, and perhaps a few minor sins like stealing bread or lying to their party.
For Mordecai, it would reveal a Level [ERROR] Necromancer, CEO of Ravenloft Holdings, heir of Aldmax, and the reincarnated soul of the very man Lucy had betrayed in her past life.
"Kaitoyama-san," she whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the cloying scent of celestial lilies mixed with the ozone of her magic. "You look so... tired. Why don't you let me see what's really inside that sad, tormented heart of yours?"
Pyroetta and Vera were about to do something, but they suddenly stopped when they realized that doing something would've meant 'Suspicious'.
The only thing they could do was trust their beloved master.
Mordecai's hand drifted toward his tool belt. If she completed the scan, the 'Kaitoyama' persona would be permanently deleted. He would have to slaughter the entire Guild Hall to avoid an early endgame scenario, which meant an astronomical loss of potential interns and a massive spike in cleaning costs. It was financially unacceptable.
'Inefficient.' He thought.
He prepared to cast a localized [Tetanus Bolt] directly into her mana pathways to short-circuit the spell.
But before a single spark could leave his fingers, the world stopped.
Literally, the dust motes floating in the shafts of sunlight froze.
Everything turned to grey, and the elevator music started to play.
The Guild Master, mid-gulp of his ale, turned into a statue. Even Lucy's divine light paused, suspended like a glitching graphic.
A colossal, blindingly crimson notification box shattered the frozen air right between Mordecai's nose and Lucy's glowing hand. It pulsed with the desperate urgency of a server administrator watching their main database catch fire.
[SYSTEM OVERRIDE: NARRATIVE PACING AT CRITICAL RISK.]
[ERROR CODE 404: 'ENDGAME_REVEAL' CANNOT BE LOADED IN ARC 2.]
[WARNING: REVEALING 'ENDGAME VILLAIN' TROPES IN THE EARLY STAGES VIOLATES THE 100-CHAPTER SLOW-BURN STIPULATION. THE AUDIENCE IS NOT READY. THE PROTAGONISTS ARE UNDER-LEVELED. THE REVENGE QUEST IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE.]
[SOLUTION: INITIATING EMERGENCY DISTRACTION MANEUVER - SCRIPT #77: UPGRADED SKILL: 'EDGELORD RIZZ (PHYSICAL EDITION)'.]
"What the—" Mordecai's thought was cut off as the System hijacked his motor functions. He felt his own body move entirely against his will, driven by the sheer, unadulterated force of narrative determinism.
He couldn't do anything else.
NTR_Lover69 was probably the happiest man alive, realizing what was coming next.
Time resumed, but at double speed.
Before Lucy's glowing hand could touch his chest, Mordecai's right arm shot forward with terrifying, predatory precision. He bypassed her holy magic entirely. He stepped directly into her personal space, closing the gap so aggressively that the tips of his work boots knocked against her pristine white sandals.
His arm wrapped around her waist like a vice, pulling her flush against his chest. His left hand came up, pushing her glowing hand aside, while his right hand settled firmly on her lower back.
But it wasn't just a random grab. The System, in its infinite, trope-obsessed wisdom, had calculated the exact coordinates for maximum psychological damage.
Mordecai's thumb pressed precisely against her floating rib. His fingers curled around her side in a tight, possessive, yet strangely exhausted grip. He leaned his weight slightly forward, looming over her, trapping her entirely.
It was an aggressively edgy stance, designed by the System to look like a dangerous bad boy threatening a pure maiden—a classic trope to derail the plot with sudden, spicy tension.
But to Lucy, it wasn't a trope. It was a ghost.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: ENGAGEMENT LEVEL HAS INCREASED BY 200%. THE HIGHER REALMS ARE SATISFIED.]
The moment his gloved hand pressed against her rib, her breath hitched violently. The golden magic fizzled out, dying with a pathetic pop.
Her mind didn't register the rugged electrician, nor the crowded Guild Hall. The exact pressure of those fingers, the specific angle of his arm wrapping around her, the heavy, tired way he leaned into her space... it was a carbon copy. It was the exact, identical way Kaito used to hold her when he came home exhausted from a fourteen-hour shift, resting his weight against her in the cramped kitchen of their Tokyo apartment while he waited for the coffee to brew.
A wave of intense, paralyzing nostalgia hit her like a physical blow. A rush of undeniable, shameful heat immediately followed it.
Compared to Nick—the 'Pure Hero' who couldn't even hold her hand without the System threatening them with a decency penalty, who smelled like artificial courage and hair gel, and so American that he literally bled apple pie even in this badly written world—this man smelled of ozone, hard work, and that heavy, delicious sorrow she had recognized outside the tavern.
Lucy's eyes widened to impossible proportions. Her pupils trembled violently as she looked up into his single, glowing violet eye. Her heart hammered against her ribs, completely short-circuiting under the combined weight of the physical contact and the terrifying realization of whose touch this felt like.
[SYSTEM PROMPT: MANDATORY EDGY DIALOGUE REQUIRED. YOU HAVE 3 SECONDS OR YOUR MANA WILL BE LIQUIDATED.]
[ADMIN NOTE: You're doing great, sweetie~.]
Mordecai's eye twitched behind his cap. He mentally cursed the Higher Realms, the System, and whatever idiot had coded this universe. He was a CEO, not a romance novel protagonist. But a threat to his mana was a threat to his operational budget.
He leaned down, his lips brushing barely a millimeter from her ear. He delivered the required line with the cold, deadpan baritone of a man who was utterly, completely tired of this company's bullshit. This time, his voice dropped by 2 octaves, sounding more sexy to Lucy's ears.
"Careful, Saintess," Mordecai whispered, his voice dripping with a forced, dark velvet tone that vibrated through her chest. "If you gaze too deeply into the abyss, you might find that the shadows... bite back. And frankly, I don't think your fragile holy circuits can handle my voltage."
A collective, deafening gasp echoed through the Guild Hall.
The rugged, Level 30 electrician had just aggressively romanced the Saintess of Light, the untouchable avatar of the Goddess, in front of everyone.
A seasoned warrior in the front row dropped his battleaxe. It clattered against the wooden floor, the sound ringing out like a gunshot in the dead silence.
The Guild Master, still frozen with his ale halfway to his mouth, let the mug slip from his fingers. It shattered, spilling beer everywhere, but no one looked away from the center of the room.
(Almost) Every single adventurer had their eyes open wide. (The basic NPC's)
The guy in a green tracksuit, with his party of 3 useless beings, was actually laughing while the white-haired edgelord with an eyepatch and a prosthetic arm walked out, not wanting to look at anything else. "Fuck this sh*t, I'm out," he yelled, before walking out.
The only normal guy during that scene was actually Dragon Slayer. He was speaking to Elara, who was still staring at the scene with some saliva drooling from her mouth. He kept saying, "Give me Dragons. They killed my family," while being completely ignored.
Lucy was completely paralyzed. Her face, usually a mask of serene superiority, turned a shade of crimson that rivaled a high-tier health potion. Her knees actually gave out. If Mordecai's arm hadn't firmly continued holding her waist, she would have collapsed onto the floor.
Her mind was a whirlwind of contradictory errors: 'It's him. It can't be him. Why is he so strong? Why am I liking this? Why doesn't Nick hold me like this? Is he going to kill me? Is he going to kiss me?'
She let out a soft, embarrassing squeak. It was a sound so profoundly un-canon for a holy vessel that the air itself seemed to cringe.
Behind Mordecai, the ambient temperature of the Guild Hall spiked by forty degrees.
Pyroetta's hand was trembling so violently on the hilt of her crimson blade that the metal was vibrating. Her twin-tails were practically smoking, embers drifting from the tips of her hair.
"That... that... BAKA BITCH!" Pyroetta hissed under her breath, her eyes glowing with pure, unadulterated murderous intent. Her internal programming as a Demon General was at war with her Tsundere module. "He belongs to the Corporation! You don't get to audit his waist! I'll burn her! I'll burn her holy robes right off her—wait, no, that would expose her. I'll burn her face!"
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: PYROAS VON SERYLDA HAS EXPERIENCED A CRASH DUE TO EXCESSIVE JEALOUSY. THE MOSQUITO HAS RETURNED FOR THE NEXT 15 MINUTES UNTIL WE WORK ON A FIX.
Beside her, the grey 'trash can with legs' began to emit a low, terrifying draconic growl that sounded like a jet engine warming up.
Vera's bucket helmet rattled violently. Inside the suffocating steel, the Ancient Dragon was fighting every instinct in her ancient blood to not unleash a [Tier 9: Abyssal Breath Attack] right inside the tavern. "The Boss is touching the glowing pest. The pest is blushing. The pest must be eradicated. I will eat her. I will eat the building. I will eat the city."
Only the strict, magical Non-Disclosure Agreement they had signed with Ravenloft Holdings kept them from turning the Guild into a crater.
Up in the ether, invisible to everyone but Mordecai, the digital world was tearing itself apart.
[HIGHER REALMS CHAT: BROKEN. SERVERS ON FIRE. DEPLOYING EMERGENCY COOLANTS.]
[NTR_Lover69 tipped 5,000 Golden Coins!]."YES! YES! DO IT! REVEAL HIS EDGELORD FORM! STEAL THE HERO'S GIRL! THE DRAMA IS PEAKING!"
[WAIFU_HUNTER tipped 1,000 Golden Coins!]: "Look at her face! She's not a Saint anymore, she's a Yandere Inquisitor waiting to happen! 10/10! BEST CHAPTER!"
[LUKAS_THE_GREAT]: "Mordecai, use the 'Paperwork Avalanche' on her! Bind her in a non-disclosure agreement before she catches feelings!"
[SYSTEM ADMIN NOTE: KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS, AUDIENCE. WE NEED TO MILK THIS TENSION FOR AT LEAST ANOTHER 50 CHAPTERS BEFORE THE BIG REVEAL. PLEASE BE SURE TO ENJOY THIS SPICY FILLER WHILE WE RECALIBRATE THE PLOT.]
Mordecai read the Admin note and felt a vein pop in his forehead. He was a professional. He didn't do 'spicy filler'. He did (forced by fanservice) logistical optimization.
Having fulfilled the System's mandatory requirement, the invisible chains on his body dissolved.
With the cold, mechanical efficiency of a factory line worker clocking out at 5:00 PM, Mordecai let go.
He didn't gently push her away. He didn't linger. He just removed his arm and stepped back, letting gravity do its job.
Lucy, whose legs were still completely useless, stumbled forward, barely catching herself on the edge of a nearby table to avoid face-planting into the spilled beer. She gasped for air, her chest heaving, her eyes darting up to look at him with a mix of utter confusion, lingering fear, and a terrifying amount of thirst.
Mordecai calmly adjusted his electrician's cap, pulling the brim down slightly. He dusted off his work jacket as if he had just finished inspecting a particularly filthy, malfunctioning mana-socket.
He looked around the dead-silent Guild Hall, his violet eye sweeping over the stunned adventurers, the furious Guild Master, and the trembling Saintess.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," Mordecai said loudly, his voice echoing perfectly in the quiet room. "My party has a dungeon to audit. Time is money, and standing around exchanging dramatic glances has a terrible Return on Investment."
He turned on his heel and walked toward the exit. "Vera, Pyroetta. We're leaving. And someone inform the Guild Master that he owes me for the emotional labor of dealing with his VIP guests."
Pyroetta shot Lucy one last glare—a look that promised a very slow, very bureaucratic death—before turning on her heel and marching after her boss. "Hmph! Baka Saintess!" she muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Vera let out a metallic snort that sounded suspiciously like a dragon's warning growl, her heavy boots clanking against the floorboards as she followed. Her tail was wagging violently.
The heavy wooden doors of the Guild Hall slammed shut behind them, leaving a room full of broken minds and a Saintess who was currently trying to remember how to breathe.
Once outside, Mordecai felt a severe stomachache.
It was the [CLICHE NAUSEA] debuff, given by too much fan service. But, at least, nobody had found out about his true identity.
And now, he was heading towards the next dungeon, suggested by Ugo.