Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 773: Next steps, we need more information!

Strax remained leaning against the table for a few seconds, his hands flat on the wood, feeling the weight of the newly made decision still vibrate in the office air. Then, without turning immediately, he spoke:

"Before anything else…" he said, his voice lower, controlled, "why are you all here?"

The three exchanged subtle glances.

"You've been away," Strax continued, now slowly turning to face them. "Too far, even by our standards. Filgram, Athenion, parallel routes… I know when they're busy. But this here," he made a vague gesture with his hand, "is no coincidence."

Cristine let out a short laugh, almost too light for the heavy atmosphere of the room.

"Always straightforward," she commented.

She walked to one of the side shelves and pulled out a thick, dark leather folder, marked with internal stamps and marginal notes. She returned to Strax and placed it on the table with a dry sound.

"It's about the next target," she said, sliding the folder toward him. "The Monarch of the White Flames."

Strax raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn't open the folder immediately.

"I've heard the title," he said. "A few times. Always accompanied by exaggerations or corpses."

Cristine tilted her head.

"A bit of both," she replied. She paused briefly, deliberately. "It's… interesting. But deep down, just another imbecile with too much power."

Yennefer approached the table, resting her hands on the edge.

"His real name hardly matters," she added. "What matters is the structure he created."

Strax finally opened the folder.

Detailed maps spread out before him: a walled city, well-defined sectors, trade routes, production zones, areas marked with military control symbols.

"City-state," Strax murmured. "Independent."

"Officially," Cristine confirmed. "In practice, a personal fiefdom."

Samira crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg.

"He governs through a simple principle," she said. "Strength is virtue. Weakness is a crime."

Strax looked up.

"Explain."

Cristine placed her fingers on the map, pointing to specific sectors.

"Taxes vary according to the citizen's 'usefulness.' Weak artisans, peasants without a military history, sick people, the elderly… all pay absurd taxes. Some even hand over more than half of what they produce."

"And the strong?" Strax asked.

"Almost nothing," Yennifer replied. "Warriors, mercenaries, offensive mages, anyone he considers 'capable of imposing his will.' These receive exemptions, privileges, access to resources."

Strax slightly clenched his jaw.

"A system that feeds on planned inequality."

"Exactly," said Cristine. "He creates artificial scarcity at the lower levels to force competition. The weak fight amongst themselves to survive. The strong rise… and feel rewarded."

Samira stepped forward.

"But here's the part that makes him dangerous," she added. "He despises the weak, but fears the strong."

Strax tilted his head.

"Interesting contradiction."

"Not so much," said Yennifer. "He values ​​strength as long as it's useful and distant. When someone starts to stand out too much… when they become popular, respected, influential…"

Cristine made a sharp gesture with her hand, as if cutting something in the air.

"He clips their wings."

Strax turned his eyes back to the map.

"Selective purges?"

"Disguised as accusations," replied Cristine. "Treason. Corruption. Conspiracy. Sometimes, 'honorable' duels under manipulated conditions." Samira snorted, annoyed.

"He calls it maintaining sovereignty."

"And does it work?" Strax asked, without looking up.

"So far," Yennifer replied. "Fear keeps everyone in line. The weak have no choice. The strong learn quickly that growing too big is a death sentence."

Strax slowly closed the folder.

"So he built a city based on a distorted meritocracy," he said. "Where merit is just brute force… and too much force becomes a threat."

"That's it," Cristine confirmed. "An artificial balance sustained by constant violence."

Strax remained silent for a few seconds.

"He trades slaves?" he asked directly.

Cristine didn't answer immediately.

"Unofficially," she finally said. "He condemns open slavery. He says 'no one should wear visible chains.'"

"But…," Strax pressed.

"But it uses debt bondage," Yennifer finished. "Unpayable tax penalties. Administrative punishments that 'require compensation.' People disappear from the streets and reappear in mines, furnaces, military production lines."

Samira clenched her fists.

"Slavery with a pretty name."

Strax took a deep breath through his nose.

"And why is it still standing?" he asked. "A system like that creates too many enemies."

Cristine smiled slightly.

"Because it's useful."

"For whom?" Strax looked up.

"For markets that don't want to get their hands dirty directly," she replied. "He provides weapons. Disciplined troops. 'Disposable' mercenaries. And he keeps an entire city running as a war machine."

Yennefer added:

"As long as he exists, other powers can outsource violence."

Strax ran a hand over his chin, thoughtfully.

"And you were far away…," he murmured. "Because you were mapping this."

Cristine nodded.

"Routes of influence. Who profits. Who turns a blind eye."

"And?" Strax asked seriously. "Does he make the list?"

Samira stepped forward.

"Technically? Yes," she replied. "Morally? Absolutely."

Cristine crossed her arms.

"But he's not a simple target," she said. "He's not just an isolated tyrant. He's a knot. If you pull the wrong way, the whole network reacts."

Strax rested his hands on the table again.

"I'm not looking for a symbol," he said. "I'm looking for structures that need to fall."

He looked at each one, one by one.

"The question is: if he falls… what happens to the city?"

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable.

It was honest.

Yennefer spoke first.

"Initial chaos. Power struggle. Blood."

Samira nodded.

"But also… opportunity."

Cristine concluded, her voice firm:

"If he falls the right way, the city doesn't just lose a ruler. It loses the model."

Strax closed his eyes for a moment.

His chest tightened again.

Not with doubt.

But with confirmation.

"Then continue," he said, opening his eyes. "I want everything. Structure, succession, breaking points. Nothing superficial."

He pulled the folder back to himself.

"If we're going to touch on this…," he added, "it's going to be surgical." Christine smiled.

"That's why we're here."

Cristine carefully closed the folder and pushed it back to Strax, already taking a half-step toward the door.

"We have work to do," she said practically. "A lot of work. I'll need to move people around in Filgram and pull some names I don't even like to think about."

Yennefer was already beside her sister, adjusting her coat.

"And I want to review the financial routes before anyone notices patterns," she added. "If this man falls, others will try to fill the void immediately."

Strax nodded.

"Don't do anything rash," he said. "I want to understand the whole picture before knocking down any pieces."

Cristine smiled slightly.

"Always," she replied. "And, Strax…"

He looked up.

"This here," she lightly touched his chest with two fingers, "isn't just instinct. It's worldview. Trust in that."

Yennifer opened the door.

"Don't take too long," she said, glancing quickly at Samira, who remained leaning against the fireplace in unusual silence. "Some decisions require your whole self, not just your thoughts."

And then the two left, the door closing behind them with a soft click.

The office fell silent again.

But it wasn't the same silence as before.

Strax took a deep breath and turned slowly.

Samira was still there, motionless, arms crossed, her gaze lost on some undefined point on the wall. She didn't seem tense. Nor angry. She seemed… distant.

"You would normally have made an inappropriate comment by now," Strax observed. "Or broken something. Or both."

She didn't answer immediately.

Strax raised an eyebrow.

"What's on your mind?" he asked. "It's obvious from here your head is spinning."

Samira finally stirred, uncrossing her arms and resting a hand on her hip. She sighed, as if deciding to stop pretending to reflect on something complex.

"I need a few things here in Asgard," she said casually.

Strax frowned.

"A few things… logistical?" he ventured. "Weapons? People? Space?"

She shook her head slowly.

"No."

"Information?" he tried.

"Also no."

Strax leaned forward, resting his head on the table.

"Then what?"

Samira looked directly at him.

Without hesitation.

"Dick."

The world seemed to stop for a full second.

Strax blinked.

Once.

Twice.

The silence became so absolute that you could hear the distant crackling of firewood in the fireplace.

"…", he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. "You… you just said what I think you said?"

Samira shrugged, completely at ease.

"I did."

Strax ran a hand slowly over his face, as if testing if he was still awake.

"You were lost in thought for a full five minutes…," he began, "while we discussed power structures, disguised slavery, and political collapse… to arrive at this conclusion?"

"Uh-huh."

"Was this the 'thing' you needed?"

"Exactly."

He stared at her, trying to find any trace of exaggerated joking.

He found none.

"Samira…"

"Before you start," she interrupted, raising a finger, "let me explain."

Strax crossed his arms.

"I'm genuinely curious now."

She stepped away from the wall and began to walk around the office, slow steps, like a beast comfortable in familiar territory.

"Unlike Christine and Yennefer," she said, "I'm not a creature driven by obsessive internal control."

"Is that a polite way of saying they control themselves better?" Strax asked.

"No." Samira smiled slightly. "It's an honest way of saying they can ignore physical desires for weeks without becoming unbearable."

She stopped in front of him.

"Not me."

Strax sighed, but there was a clear trace of amusement in his gaze.

"Are you telling me that this is… stress management?"

"Among other things."

He tilted his head.

"And why now?"

Samira rested her hands on the table, leaning slightly forward.

"Because we're about to get into something big," she replied, serious for the first time. "Dirty. Prolonged. Violent. That kind of thing affects me in a specific way."

Strax narrowed his eyes.

"How?"

"I get restless," she said. "My body craves movement. Contact. Anchoring."

She lightly touched his chest with two fingers.

"You."

The silence returned, but now it was different.

Deeper.

Strax took a deep breath.

"You know you don't need to justify this as a strategy," he said. "You could simply say 'I want you.'"

Samira gave a short laugh.

"Of course I could. But you asked me what I had in mind. I answered with brutal honesty."

She straightened up.

"I'm a free spirit, Strax. I always have been. I fight, I kill, I decide quickly. And I like sex. I like it a lot."

She pointed at him, unceremoniously.

"And I love my husband's cock. Aka: yours."

Strax let out a short, incredulous laugh.

"You really have no filter."

"I never did. You knew that when you accepted me here."

"I knew," he admitted. "But it still manages to catch me off guard sometimes."

Samira smiled, satisfied.

"Great. It means I'm still interesting."

He observed her for a few seconds, assessing not the request, but what lay behind it.

"This isn't just desire," he finally said. "It's a way for you to prepare yourself."

She nodded.

"Yes. I'm more centered afterward. More… present."

Strax ran a hand through his hair.

"Do the others know this?"

"They do." Samira shrugged. "And they don't mind. They function differently. I don't try to be like them, and they don't try to mold me."

He smiled slightly.

"A tacit agreement."

"Exactly."

She took another step closer.

"So…," she said, with a cheeky half-smile, "are you going to tell me now isn't a good time?"

Strax was silent for a few seconds.

Then he uncrossed his arms.

"You have an incredible ability to break any solemn atmosphere."

"I consider that a talent."

"And a weapon."

"Also."

He sighed, surrendering.

"Very well," he said. "But not here. This office has seen enough decisions today."

Samira raised an eyebrow.

"So that's a 'yes'."

"It's a 'come with me'."

Her smile widened dangerously.

"See?" she said, following him towards the door. "Crisis management also involves physical priorities."

Strax shook his head, laughing.

"One day you'll exhaust me to death."

"Probably," she replied. "But you'll die satisfied."

The office door closed behind them.