Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 798: Solving some problems in the city.

Strax didn’t sleep.

While the sky still held the hesitant blue of pre-dawn, he was already standing in his office, adjusting his coat and fastening the last buttons with precise movements. The city outside was beginning to awaken, oblivious to the fact that one of the most rotten cogs in its system was about to be forcibly ripped out.

He glanced one last time at the report on the table.

"Protected" trade routes.

An expensive joke.

In practice, those routes were institutionalized illegal tolls. Merchants paid two, three times for the same journey. Part went to the city hall, another part to the assigned soldiers, another—the largest part—disappeared into the hands of intermediate officers.

At the top of that system was a name repeated with irritating frequency:

General Manager of Military Routes and Assignments.

The man who decided which soldiers went to which posts.

Which routes "deserved" protection.

Which caravans were conveniently ignored.

Strax picked up the city map and marked a point with his fingernail.

"That’s where you rot," he muttered.

The building was near the city’s east gate, large, robust, ostentatiously military. Official flags hung from the walls, and the city guard’s symbol was carved in stone above the entrance.

From the outside, it seemed orderly.

Inside, Strax knew it was a market.

He didn’t go with an escort.

He didn’t need one.

Two guards at the door recognized him immediately. They straightened their posture, too tense.

"Sir..." one of them began.

"Open up," Strax said simply.

The aura didn’t expand.

There was no explicit threat.

But the air seemed to grow... heavier.

The door opened.

The interior of the building smelled of metal, old parchment, and dried sweat. Clerks looked up as Strax passed, some paling, others pretending to be too busy to notice.

He walked slowly, without any hurry.

That was important.

Fear needed time to spread before violence.

On the second floor, a middle-aged woman hurriedly rose from behind a desk full of records.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice too practiced to hide her nervousness.

Strax stopped in front of her.

"Is the general manager in?" he asked.

She hesitated for a second.

A second too long.

"H-he’s in a meeting," she replied. "Can I announce—"

"No," Strax interrupted. "Can you take me there?"

She swallowed hard, nodded, and walked ahead of him.

As they walked, Strax watched.

Too many doors closed.

Too many averted gazes.

Too quiet for a fully functioning administrative building.

"How many protected routes are there currently?" he asked suddenly.

The woman almost tripped.

"S-sir?"

"How many routes are officially protected by the city guard?"

"Twelve main ones... and seven secondary ones."

"How many are actually protected?"

She fell silent.

Strax smiled. "Thank you. You’ve already answered."

The meeting room was large, illuminated by tall windows. A long table occupied the center. Maps were scattered, marked with colored symbols. Uniformed men conversed in hushed voices.

When Strax entered, the sound died instantly.

The general manager stood, leaning on the table. A robust man, well-groomed beard, impeccable uniform. The kind who seemed competent... until you looked long enough.

"Mr. Strax," he said, forcing a smile. "To what do I owe—"

Strax closed the door behind him.

The click echoed too loudly.

"Sit down," he said.

The manager blinked.

"With all due respect, this is a meeting—"

Strax walked to the table.

He placed an open scroll right in front of the man.

"Do you recognize this?"

The manager paled slightly.

"Financial reports?"

"Yes." Strax tilted his head. "Specifically, the ones you ’adjusted’."

Silence.

One of the officers beside him tried to speak.

"Sir, this is a misunderstanding—"

Strax looked at him.

Just looked.

The man felt the weight of the aura touch his skin like an icy shadow. He fell silent immediately, sweating.

"You," Strax said, pointing to another. "How much did you receive last quarter?"

"I-I..." the man stammered.

"Don’t answer," Strax corrected. "I already know."

He began to walk slowly around the table.

"You’ve created a beautiful system," he said. "Official enough to seem legitimate. Dirty enough to get rich quick."

He stopped behind the general manager.

"Do you know what the mistake of people like you is?"

The man was breathing heavily.

"You believe corruption is invisible. But it leaves traces. Always."

Strax snapped his fingers.

The door opened.

Two soldiers entered, nervous but alert.

"Bring in the merchant Darios," Strax ordered. "Now." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

The manager’s eyes widened.

"He has nothing to do with—"

"Shut up."

Minutes later, the merchant was brought in. He was pale, frightened, but alive.

"Tell them," Strax asked.

Darios took a deep breath.

"I... paid three times for the south route. Once to the office. Once to the designated captain. Once directly to the manager."

The silence became solid.

"Liar!" shouted the manager.

Strax slowly drew his blade.

There was no rush.

"Does anyone else want to deny it?" he asked.

No one spoke.

"Great."

The first to die was the general manager.

Strax made no speech.

The blade pierced with surgical precision. No aura. No spectacle.

The death was clean.

Then, he turned to the others.

"Corruption is not an administrative error," he said calmly. "It’s treason."

The second tried to run.

He didn’t reach the door.

The third fell to his knees.

"I can help! I know who—"

Strax cut.

One by one, the names were being crossed off the system. Some died there.

Others were taken away for public execution later.

Strax wiped the blade with a cloth, taking a deep breath.

Then he turned to the soldiers who had watched everything, terrified.

"You," he said. "Now answer to me."

They nodded immediately.

"Tomorrow," he continued, "all routes will be redistributed. Salaries paid on time. No fees outside the contract."

He sheathed the blade.

"Whoever accepts a bribe... dies."

Simple.

He left the building as the sun finally rose on the horizon.

The city didn’t know yet.

But the routes were clear.

And the fear, well applied, had begun to work.

Rogue walked calmly through the city’s central streets, hands in her pockets, a bored expression.

The sun hadn’t even reached its highest point, and she was already tired.

"What a hell," she muttered to herself.

Merchants shouted prices. Children ran around. Guards pretended to watch. Everything seemed normal—too normal for a city rotten inside.

Guilds.

Always them.

Guilds charging different fees for the same service. "Flexible" guilds, as long as the bribe was paid to the right person. Guilds that bled the population dry while pretending to maintain order.

Rogue hated it.

Not because it was unfair.

But because it was stupid.

"If you’re going to steal," she thought, "do it right."

She stopped in the middle of the street and looked at the building ahead.

The Main Guild.

Large. Ostentatious. Bright stones, thick columns, expensive flags waving in the wind. Private guards at the entrance, armor too polished for those who lived at the expense of others.

Rogue smiled slightly.

"This is it."

She crossed the street, ignoring the curious stares. One of the guards raised his hand.

"Hey, you—"

The kick came first.

The main door exploded open with a dry bang, wood splitting like old paper. The impact echoed through the inner hall, eliciting screams and the immediate sound of falling chairs.

Rogue walked in.

Calm.

Relaxed.

The guild hall was spacious, filled with counters, scribes, employees, and a few clients who froze in place at the sight of her.

A heavy silence fell.

"WHO IS THE LEADER HERE?" her voice echoed, clear, sharp.

An employee tried to protest.

"You can’t just walk in like that! This is the property of—"

Rogue turned her face away.

The invisible pressure crushed the air around him.

The man paled and fell to the floor, choking.

"Last chance," she said. "Leader. Now."

One of the guards drew his sword.

Mistake.

Rogue appeared in front of him in the blink of an eye.

There was no elaborate strike.

She simply tapped two fingers on the man’s chest.

The sound was low.

The body fell hard to the ground, lifeless, empty eyes staring at the ceiling.

Screams erupted.

"Call the guild master!" someone shouted desperately.

"Quick!"

Hurried footsteps echoed up the upper staircase.

Rogue stepped back a few paces and leaned against a broken counter, watching.

"See?" she commented, almost amused. "All you had to do was call."

Minutes later, the leader descended.

A middle-aged man, expensive clothes, discreet jewelry, sweat dripping from his forehead. He tried to maintain his posture, but his knees trembled.

"M-my name is Halven," he said, forcing firmness. "We can resolve this civilly."

Rogue looked him up and down.

"You’re the leader?"

"I am."

"Great."

She stepped away from the counter.

Halven swallowed hard.

"Look, whatever you want... money, contract, influence... it can all be negotiated."

Rogue tilted her head.

"Negotiation is over."

She advanced.

Halven took a step back.

"Wait—"

Rogue didn’t wait.

A single movement.

Too fast for ordinary eyes to follow.

The short blade appeared in her hand and vanished in the same instant.

Halven’s body remained standing for half a second.

Then it fell in two.

Blood splattered across the polished floor.

Absolute silence. Rogue wiped the blade on the corpse’s clothing with a casual gesture.

"Done."

She turned slowly to those present.

Employees, remaining guards, merchants, all paralyzed.

"Listen carefully," she said. "This guild is mine now."

No one breathed.

"Anyone who wants to leave can leave now." She opened her arms. "No pursuit."

No one moved.

"Those who stay, follow my rules."

She walked through the hall, footsteps echoing among pools of blood.

"Equal fees for everyone. Clear contracts. No bribes. No exceptions."

She stopped in the center.

"Anyone who steals from the population, I kill."

Someone cried.

A guard fell to his knees.

"And anyone who doesn’t like it..." Rogue smiled, showing her teeth. "...come."

The air grew heavy.

"I love resolving objections."

One of the employees raised a trembling hand.

"W-what if another guild objects?"

Rogue laughed.

A short laugh. Humorless.

"Better."

She pointed to the body of the former leader.

"You can leave him there for now."

Swallowed hard.

"It’s educational."

She walked to the destroyed door and looked outside.

The street was crowded now. People watched from afar, frightened, curious.

Rogue raised her voice.

"This guild has changed hands!"

A murmur spread.

"Fair fees from today onwards!" she continued. "No extortion!"

She paused.

"But understand one thing."

The smile vanished.

"Anyone who tries to corrupt this... dies."