In the slums of the South Harbor District.
Theresa concealed her presence with magic as she strolled along the filthy, mud-caked streets. Rounding a near-collapsed wooden shack, she spotted a woman with sallow skin and a gaunt frame—her once-delicate beauty now entirely hidden, save for her still-alluring figure—sitting beside a massive tub, scrubbing a pile of clothes reeking of sweat and fish.
Her name was Malena—the very woman who had once clutched her daughter, weeping and begging Theresa to save her.
She had been the daughter of a noble in Liberl Port, married off to a foreign merchant at sixteen. But misfortune struck after she gave birth to her daughter: her husband perished in a shipwreck, and her family was ruined by fabricated accusations.
With nowhere to turn, she ended up here, eking out a living as a laundress. In just a few years, she shed all her former fragility, transforming from a pampered lady into a pillar of strength, single-handedly holding her household together.
After her daughter regained her health, a new hope ignited in her. She pushed herself to the limit, scraping together every coin, determined to provide her child with a better life and education.
This resilience caught Theresa’s attention, captivating her. Truly, the bloodline of the Beleucci family, she mused. Not only does the daughter possess a compassionate heart from childhood, but the mother, too, is so unyielding...
Well then... why not let mother and daughter soar together—straight into my belly?
Heh. Malena’s entire will to live stems from her daughter. I wonder how she’ll rage when her child is snatched away by human traffickers?
And when that girl awakens the power in her bloodline, slaughters the kidnappers, and rushes home with magic, only to find her mother reduced to a madwoman by the very slum-dwellers she sought to save... what a delightful spectacle that’ll be.
But first, I must give this mother-daughter pair a glimmer of hope...
With that thought, she dispelled her magical concealment and strode toward the woman.
"Thank you, Sister Theresa! Thank you, truly, thank you!"
Malena was overcome, tears streaming as she choked on her words. "You must be an angel sent by the Goddess of Life... Bless you for your kindness, offering me such work..."
Moments ago, Theresa had promised her: if she could labor eight hours daily at the Tailor’s Shop run by the sisters, meeting a set quota, she’d earn two gold coins as remuneration.
This was wages fit for a skilled artisan. Washing clothes from dawn till midnight barely netted her a single gold.
So this opportunity was nothing short of miraculous.
Watching Malena’s tearful gratitude, Theresa smiled gently. "Don’t thank me. I hired you for your eye for beauty, deft hands, and diligence."
"If the work is shoddy, or you slack off... I’ll deduct your pay."
As she spoke, she frowned slightly, sensing an oddly familiar grace in the woman’s bearing.
Strange. What is this?
Malena nodded eagerly, her full bosom trembling slightly with the motion. "Understood, Sister Theresa, I understand! I’ll devote myself fully to the work—I swear I won’t waste a single coin of this wage!"
Then, her expression grew hesitant. "Sister Theresa... where exactly will I be working? Could you... show me the place?"
Theresa gave a slight nod. "Very well."
"Then please wait a moment—I’ll change my clothes." With that, Malena turned and headed inside. As Theresa watched the subtle sway of her rounded hips, the faint gap between her thighs that refused to close completely—a sudden realization struck her.
All six of them... just woman... have already... done that?!
Her eyes widened slightly, pupils contracting, cheeks flushing pink. She took an involuntary half-step back, her right hand pressing against her chest as her heart hammered wildly.
No—how many have they been with?!
The thought of her sisters’ usual shamelessness made her face burn hotter.
Gods... They say once you open those forbidden gates, there’s no return from the abyss of desire...
Ahead, Malena returned, now changed. Noticing Theresa’s odd state, she quickly asked, "Sister Theresa, are you unwell?"
Theresa shook her head slightly, opened her small mouth slightly, gasped, and then smiled reluctantly and responded: "Nothing, I just suddenly remembered something. Let’s go, I’ll take you to see where you work."
Having said that, she turned around and took Malena away. As she walked, her mind was still racing.
It seems that during the time when she was not in the monastery, many interesting things did happen to the sisters...
Charles lay flat on his large bed, arms folded beneath the back of his head, eyes closed, savoring Sadako’s devout service.
Across from him, Sadako sat on the bed, propping herself up with her arms behind her, lifting her flawless feet to clumsily grip his massive length, sliding up and down in an awkward rhythm.
The pleasure was exquisite. For several nights now, he had revisited this dream, toying with the female ghost in ever-changing ways, pushing her to the brink of collapse before finally being satisfied.
The only flaw? Upon waking, he would forget everything that had transpired—only to recall it all again upon returning to the dream, along with the purified female ghost and the ecstasy she brought him.
Yet bliss was always fleeting. Soon, a pink silhouette flickered beside him, followed by a familiar voice whispering in his ear:
"Master, wake up. It’s time."
Ah. Right. Time to rise.
With that thought, Charles sat up, patting the female ghost’s jet-black long hair gently.
Then, the entire Dream World dissolved.
Back in reality, Charles stirred, his eyes fluttering open in confusion as Ruth and Sephera loomed over him, their faces etched with concern.
"Master, did you dream again tonight?"
Charles remained dazed for a moment before finally furrowing his brow.
"I must have... but I can’t recall what. Nothing important, surely. I’m fine—don’t trouble yourselves over it."
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