Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!-Chapter 139: I Need You! (For my dungeon)

He stepped a little closer.

Not enough to breach Aella's space—just enough to draw her attention back to the fact that he was, in fact, taller than her. Broader. Calmer. And, annoyingly, very much aware of what effect he had on people.

"Look," he said, tone finally shifting into something more grounded, more real. "I'm not here to flirt. I came because I need someone smart and loud and sharp enough to push something through the guild without drawing too many eyes."

Aella's flirtatious edge dulled a little. She blinked again, slower this time.

"…You being serious right now?"

He nodded. "Dead serious."

She stared at him for another moment, then exhaled through her nose.

"Alright," she said. "We'll talk. Back room's open."

As she pushed off the counter and stalked around the desk, she added without looking at him:

"But after this business? You're buying me a drink. And if I even smell Sylvie's perfume on you again, I'm making you file everything by hand. In triplicate."

Leonhardt followed her toward the back hallway, the faintest smile returning to his lips.

"Understood. No mages. No paperwork. War crimes optional."

"Optional my ass," she muttered.

"Well... you do have a nice one..."

***

The back room was modest—stone walls, no windows, just a narrow, rectangular space meant more for quiet negotiations than comfort. A squat table sat in the centre, ringed by mismatched chairs, and a simple overhead lamp swayed in the breeze.

Aella entered first and dropped into the chair at the far end of the table. She sprawled in her usual way—legs wide, posture loose, like someone ready to either fight or nap.

Leonhardt stepped in after her, closing the door with a gentle click.

His eyes caught, briefly, on the neckline.

Earlier at the desk, she fastened them to the top. But now it hung open an extra button lower than it needed to. Just enough to suggest she was trying to send a message.

She leaned back against the chair, resting her arm across the backrest lazily.

"So," Aella said, her voice rough and extremely casual, "what did you need me for?"

Leonhardt didn't answer right away.

He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, identical to her, his body relaxed and both legs spread wide, elbow on the armrest and leaning on his palm.

"I need the guild's help," he said.

Aella narrowed her eyes. "For what?"

"How far can I trust you," He tapped his chin, while tilting his head slightly with a smile, "do you want to make a deal with me?"

She frowned. "Bribes draw attention."

"Well..." Leonhardt cleared his throat and continued. "What about the sole rights to dive into a dungeon for materials, ores and..." Her eyes widened instantly, the flirtatious look in her eyes freezing as her mouth dropped open. "The chance of a lifetime."

Aelle's face twitched... her eyes blinking several times.

"…You know if I do that, I'm staking my rep. If someone audits this and it turns out you're smuggling dark relics or demonic tools—"

"I'm not," he said.

"You can rest assured I despise the demons."

She stared.

"…What are you offering?"

"Fruit. Wine. Maybe some weapons and armour. Oh, and—" Leonhardt's aura suddenly filled the room, a hot, fiery magic that caused the air to tint black, bringing darkness to the room, as Nyxara and several dark elves appeared from his shadow. "A chance to prosper."

"It's a trade route," he said simply. "But not through human hands. I need the guild as the middleman. You, specifically."

She stared at him for a long time. Then her voice dropped an octave.

"…Why me?"

He looked at her evenly.

"Because you are pleasing to the eye, and... you would understand the importance of the women standing behind me, right?"

Nyxara's face scrunched up when he flirted with Aella, but she couldn't do anything and twisted her lips into a charming scarlet red smile.

"I am sure you understand what I mean by bringing these women here, to meet you."

Aella didn't answer right away.

Her gaze flicked past Leonhardt to the women behind him.

Unlike her imagination, the dark elves were heavy, plump and alluring women, but sharp, like shadows given shape, deadly daggers wrapped in elegance.

Nyxara stood at the centre of them, poised like a knife in velvet. The other dark elves flanked her, silent and unreadable, each one radiating that strange blend of grace and lethality that only their kind could truly master.

Aella's fingers drummed once against the armrest. Her jaw clenched. Just a flicker.

"…You're bringing them into my guild?"

Leonhardt tilted his head. "Not into the guild. Into the deal."

"I don't understand..." Her ears flopped, while she narrowed her eyes as if sizing up Leonhardt. "Wait, you... are you doing this because of my mother?"

"No, your mother is important but this is a deal for you."

Leonhardt leaned forward a little, voice low and calm. "I need someone smart, vicious, and untouchable by politics. That's you. The guild respects you. The mercs fear you. And when someone like you puts their stamp on something... no one questions it."

Aella's violet eyes flicked from one woman to the next. Finally, they landed back on Leonhardt.

"And in return?"

"You get the exclusive rights to register every dungeon-bound resource we extract. You list them under your network. You take your cut. You oversee the transport, the guards, the storage routes. No interference from nobles, because they won't know where it's coming from. And when this all works?"

Leonhardt's lips curved into a cool, dangerous smile that made people sign contracts before realising what they'd agreed to.

"You come out as the one who made it happen. The guild hero. Or villain, if you prefer."

Aella didn't flinch.

"…Why me?" she asked, quieter this time.

Leonhardt answered smoothly, without hesitation.

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"Because I find you pleasing to the eye, and you are a dark elf."

Aella stared at him, unmoving.

Then—

She huffed.

A small, sharp, breathy sound. Not exactly a laugh, but more like a sound someone makes when they realise they're holding a better hand than they thought.

Her legs crossed slowly, one boot thudding against the edge of the table as she leaned back with a smirk blooming on her lips—dangerous and curved, full of teeth.

"Oh?" she said, tilting her head, her hair catching the dim lamp light. "So that's what this is."

Leonhardt arched a brow. "What is?"

"You walk in here with these sun-kissed queens at your back, drip magic all over my floor, tell me I'm pleasing to the eye"—she gestured lazily to her open collar—"and expect me to believe this is just business?"

Leonhardt's smile didn't fade. "I said it starts as business."

Aella's smirk widened. "Hah. That's more like it."

She placed both hands on the table, slow and deliberate, fingers splayed.

"So let me guess. You want me to be the face. The buffer. The pretty little blade between your secrets and the rest of the world."

"You'd be the one holding the blade," Leonhardt said.

She leaned forward, across the table now, eyes sharp and mouth dangerous. "What if I want more than the blade?"