Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 797: Damn, this place is a mess.

The room still carried the residual heat of what had happened there, not in the air, but in the way everything seemed slightly out of place. The mayor’s chair was misaligned, some papers had slipped off the table, and one of the curtains let in more light than before. Nothing scandalous. Just subtle signs that this space, once rigid and formal, had been used in a much more... human way.

Rogue had her back to Strax, finishing adjusting her clothes with calm movements, without any hurry. There was no embarrassment, no urgency. Just the confident calm of someone who knows exactly where she is and who she’s with. She ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting it over her shoulders, then pulled her coat up and partially buttoned it, leaving the rest loose on purpose.

"You know," she began, in a tone too casual for the weight of the words, "that I like your arrogance."

She turned her face slightly, giving him a sideways glance.

"But it’s good to keep in mind that, from now on, things are going to get... heavy. Power attracts trouble. Always."

Strax was still seated, leaning back in his chair, watching her with a lazy half-smile. He seemed absurdly comfortable, as if nothing in the world could throw him off balance at that moment.

"I know," he replied without hesitation.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Being strong doesn’t mean being stupid. I know exactly where I stand."

Rogue raised an eyebrow, curious.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Arrogance isn’t ignorance. It’s control. And I train to maintain it."

She chuckled softly, finally turning completely to face him.

"Training arrogance... that’s a new one."

Strax stood calmly, facing her. There was no threat in his posture now, only presence. He raised his hand and lightly touched her chin, a brief, intimate gesture, but without exaggeration.

"Don’t worry about me," he said. "Worry about getting richer."

Rogue let out a genuine laugh, crossing his arms.

"Funny you should say that," she replied. "Just now you were lecturing about not caring about taxes."

She tilted her head, studying him.

"But money is still power. Especially when you want to create... more military strength."

Strax chuckled, a low, satisfied sound.

"Oh, come on," he said, shaking his head. "Stop pretending."

She blinked, feigning innocence.

"Pretending what?"

He stared directly at her, his eyes too attentive for someone joking.

"I know there’s a vault in the guild," he continued. "A really big one. Millions in gold."

For a second, Rogue was silent.

Then she began to laugh.

Not a restrained laugh. An open, amused laugh, like someone who had just been unmasked... and enjoyed it.

"Okay," she admitted, raising her hands in surrender. "You got me."

She walked to the table, leaning against it sideways.

"But look on the bright side," she added. "This only proves that I’m exactly the kind of person you need by your side."

Strax approached, stopping a few steps from her.

"I never doubted that," he replied.

She watched him for a few seconds, her smile fading slightly, becoming more serious.

"Still," she said, "you’re going to mess with forces too powerful. The Monarch of the White Flames isn’t just another local tyrant. He has allies, fanatics, people who truly believe in him."

"Let them believe," Strax replied. "Faith doesn’t stop a dragon." Rogue took a deep breath, as if accepting something inevitable.

"You say that so easily," she commented. "Sometimes I wonder if you really understand how much this can get out of control."

He shrugged.

"Everything that matters has always been out of control," she replied. "The difference is who has the courage to hold the steering wheel anyway."

She smiled again, this time with explicit admiration.

"You’re a problem," she said. "A big problem."

"And you love it."

"I do," she admitted.

She moved away from the table and walked over to him, stopping very close.

"Just don’t forget," she added, "that now it’s not just about intimidating weak people. It’s about keeping structures functioning. Cities aren’t governed by fear alone."

Strax tilted his head slightly.

"I know," he said. "That’s why you’re here."

She held his gaze for a few seconds, then nodded slowly.

"Right," she replied. "Then let’s get rich, strengthen our armies, and choose the right people. No unnecessary mess."

"No unnecessary mess," he repeated, with a wry smile.

Rogue turned to pick up a glove that had been left on the chair.

"But if everything goes wrong," she added, over her shoulder, "at least we’ll fall on top."

Strax laughed.

"That never goes wrong," she corrected. "It just changes hands."

She opened the office door, giving him one last amused look.

"Then let’s go, dragon," she said. "The city won’t govern itself."

Hours passed.

The light that had previously streamed in at an angle through the office window had now changed tone, colder, more weary. The distant murmur of the city continued its normal course—merchants shouting prices, creaking carts, the metallic sound of workshops working—as if nothing had changed. As if a dragon hadn’t just taken control of Athens with calm conversation and a bit of well-applied terror.

Strax was alone now.

Seated again in the mayor’s chair, but without his previous relaxed posture.

In front of him, on the wide, dark wooden desk, was an overly organized pile of documents. Reports. Accounting records. Maps scribbled with hurried notes. Broken stamps. Repeated signatures.

He held one in one hand, his eyes scanning the lines while the other rested on his temple.

Silence.

Then he swallowed hard.

— ...damn it.

Athenion’s financial report was a disaster.

Not a dramatic disaster, the kind that explodes in your face. It was worse. A slow, structural disaster, the kind that rots from the inside while everyone pretends everything is fine.

Accumulated deficits in multiple sectors.

"Protected" trade routes that, in practice, were extorted by corrupt officials.

Guilds paying different fees depending on who they bribed.

Public warehouses almost empty.

Unpaid debts to mercenaries.

Duplicate contracts.

Others simply... vanished.

Strax ran a hand over his face.

"Everything’s wrong..." he murmured.

He pulled out another document.

Urban security report.

He read two pages and let out a short, humorless laugh.

"You call this the city guard?

Half the force existed only on paper." The other half was poorly paid, poorly equipped, and, in many cases, working for someone other than the city hall. The system wasn’t weak—it was a sham.

Strax leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds.

Taking over the city had been easy.

Managing that mess... that was another story.

He leaned forward again, now more seriously. He picked up a city map and spread it out on the table, holding it with both hands. Small marks indicated problematic districts, commercial zones, neglected residential areas.

"You squeezed this dry," he said in a low voice, as if the former mayor could still hear.

Another report.

Infrastructure.

Bridges with overdue maintenance.

Aqueducts operating at their limit.

Entire neighborhoods depending on informal favors to receive clean water.

Strax closed his eyes for a moment.

Brute force didn’t solve this.

Fear didn’t fix pipes.

Draconic aura didn’t pay salaries.

Horns didn’t organize spreadsheets.

He let out a long, heavy sigh, resting his elbows on the table.

"Rogue was right..." he admitted, more to himself than to anyone else.

Power attracted trouble. But what was before him now wasn’t an enemy with a name and face. It was a rotten system, full of old vices, sustained by people who only knew how to survive by exploiting loopholes.

Strax picked up a quill pen and began to make notes in the corner of one of the documents.

"Review contracts."

"Cut intermediaries."

"Unify taxes."

"Pay the guard."

"Create an audit."

He stopped.

He stared at the word "audit" for a few seconds, then laughed to himself.

"I never thought I’d write this," he murmured.

The dragon that made mercenaries vomit with fear was now there, irritated by numbers that didn’t add up.

He pushed the papers aside and stood up, walking to the window. He looked down at the vibrant, chaotic, noisy city.

Athenion didn’t need a tyrant.

It needed someone to break the cycle.

"If I leave things as they are..." he thought aloud, "...it will all crumble in less than a year."

And then, inevitably, they would point the finger at him.

Strax smiled slightly.

"No. This won’t fall."

He returned to the table with more determination, pulling out a blank document.

He began to write.

Not execution orders.

Not threats.

But structures.

A new chain of command.

Reorganization of the guilds under clear contracts.

Low, but universal taxes.

Real protection in exchange for real contribution.

"Loyalty is built," he murmured. "Not just imposed."

Hours later, as the light began to fade completely, Strax stopped, putting down his pen. He looked at the pile of papers now full of notes, scribbles, corrections.

It was still a mess.

But now... it was a mess with direction.

He leaned back, crossing his arms.

"Okay," he said to the empty office. "Now it’s serious."

Conquering cities was easy.

Governing them... that was going to be hell.

He sighed before standing up, "Well, I’ll kill all the corrupt ones. Instill fear in those who follow him, and take the good ones and put them in higher positions. It’s cliché, but there’s always someone more competent working behind the imbecile who’s in charge. Just take them all and give them power, that solves 70%."