In Another World, All Milfs Will Be Mine-Chapter 174: [ - - ]

Leo stood in his office, leaning casually against the doorframe. He wasn’t looking at the ledgers. He wasn’t looking at the massive parchment map spread across his desk.

He was staring directly at perfectly fine ass swaying in front of him.

It was Ryana, the Merchant Queen who was leaning far over the desk, tracing trade routes with a feathered quill.

Her crimson dress was tailored tight, as it hugged her narrow waist and flared out over her wide, generous hips. As she stretched to reach the northern borders on the map, the silk pulled taut, outlining the perfect, plump curves of her rear.

"You are going to rip that if you bend any further, Ryana," Leo said. His voice was a low, almost a whisper but it still echoed in the quiet office.

Ryana gasped slightly and stood up straight. She spun around, dropping the quill on the map. Her hand reaching out to her hips, straightening her dress

"I am trying to organize the grain shipments for your new city, Leo," Ryana huffed, crossing her arms under her breasts. The motion only served to push her heavy cleavage higher, straining against the low-cut neckline of her dress, "Can you try not thinking with that thing in your pants for just five minutes?"

"Why?" Leo grinned, taking a slow step towards her as he closed the distance until he was standing a few feet away, letting his gaze travel deliberately up and down her body, "That guy down there is looking for someone knew. And after all I have done for this town. It deserves a reward."

Ryana rolled her eyes, but she bit her lower lip. She tried to look annoyed, but the heavy, shallow breaths she was taking gave her away.

"You are impossible," she muttered, looking away, "The Royal Inspectors are roaming the streets as we speak. That Aris guy seems like a dangerous man. We should be reviewing our cover stories, not... flirting."

"I don’t need a cover story," Leo chuckled, "And I am not just flirting. I am telling you a fact."

"That dress looks great on you. But it’s going to look even better piled on the floor next to my bed."

Ryana’s blush deepened all the way to her ears. She shifted her weight, her thighs rubbing together under the long skirt.

"You are a brute," she whispered, a slight whine entering her voice, "You think you can just talk to me like one of your other girls?"

"No," Leo said, his eyes locking onto hers. "I talk to you like you are mine. You just haven’t realized it yet."

Before Ryana could come up with a sharp retort, a familiar blue screen popped up in Leo’s vision, casting a faint glow that only he could see.

DING!

[New Quest: Bed The Merchant Queen]

[Objective: Conquer Ryana emotionally and physically. Claim her completely.]

[Time Limit: 14 Days.]

[Reward: 5000 EXP,]

[Gold: 15,000]

[Thunder Serpent Meat]

[Thousand Corpse Pill]

Leo stared at the translucent text. A wide, shark-like grin spread across his face. He didn’t need some quest to conquer this beauty in front of him. But he wouldn’t complain to the free rewards.

Fourteen days? The System was underestimating him. He wouldn’t even need four.

"What is it?" Ryana asked, seeing his smile widen, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing," Leo said, turning around and walking back to the door, "Put the ledgers away, Merchant Queen. Go wash up and put on something nice for the feast tonight. Something easy to take off."

Ryana let out a frustrated, breathy noise. "I am not your toy, Leo!"

"We will see," Leo called over his shoulder, "Make sure you sit next to me tonight."

He left the office, leaving Ryana standing there. She smoothed down her dress with trembling hands, staring at the empty doorway.

She was annoyed.

She was frustrated.

But... She was also incredibly wet.

~~~

Meanwhile, down in the bustling streets of Auravale, Lord Aris walked with his hands clasped calmly behind his back.

General Arthur walked heavily right beside him, his thick Royal plate armour clanked loudly with every step. He kept his thick hand resting firmly on the hilt of his broadsword, his eyes darting around like he was in enemy territory.

The streets were spotless. The commoners were busy sweeping, trading, and talking. But as the two Royal Envoys walked past, the peasants quickly stepped aside. They bowed their heads, pasting wide, eager smiles on their faces.

"Look at those fake, plastered smiles. They look like trained dogs." General Arthur growled, spitting a wad of phlegm onto the clean cobblestones.

"You are looking at it the wrong way, Arthur," Lord Aris said calmly. His sharp, calculating eyes took in every detail of the street. "They are terrified. But they aren’t terrified of you."

Aris pointed a long, manicured finger to the rooftops.

Men in black leather armour and wolf-fur cloaks crouched on the edges of the buildings. They held loaded crossbows resting on their knees. They wore the black armbands of the City Patrol. The Blackfang Bandits.

"They fear the boy," Aris noted, "And fear is the foundation of order."

"They are scum," Arthur snorted.

They reached a large, sturdy stone building at the end of the street. A wooden sign above the heavy double doors read: Iron Oath Adventurer’s Guild.

Arthur sneered in relief. "Finally. Some proper mercenaries. Men of honour and steel. We can hire them to bolster our numbers if this Lord Leo tries anything stupid."

Arthur kicked the double doors open and marched inside like he owned the place.

The guild hall smelled of cheap ale, stale sweat, and oiled leather. It was packed. Men were drinking at the long wooden tables, sharpening blades with whetstones, and shouting over each other.

But they weren’t typical adventurers.

Almost every man in the room had a jagged scar or a missing ear. Almost every man wore a black armband. They were all Blackfang bandits.

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, his hand tightening on his sword hilt.

The room went dead silent. Dozens of hardened, bloodthirsty killers turned to stare at the Royal General. Their eyes were cold, dead, and utterly unafraid of his shiny armour.

Lord Aris walked past Arthur, completely unfazed by the murderous intent filling the room. He approached the main counter.

A woman was sitting there. She had short brown hair and a tight leather top that pushed her tits up, spilling out over the corset lacing. It was Mara. She was casually cleaning dried blood off a wicked-looking curved dagger with a dirty rag, her feet propped up on the counter.

"Good afternoon," Aris said politely, offering a slight bow of his head, "I am Lord Aris, High Inquisitor of the Crown. I wish to speak with the Guild Master of the Iron Oath."

Mara didn’t even look up. She kept wiping the blade.

"Guild Master’s not here," Mara said, popping a piece of dried, salted meat into her mouth and chewing loudly.

"When will he return?" Aris asked.

Mara smirked. She finally looked up, her eyes full of arrogant mockery, "Never."

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