Iver's premonition had been correct.
By the afternoon of the very next day... June 23, that was, he had already received the news from the messenger who came to collect the payment.
"They've already started burning Paradise City? Is that for real?"
Iver exclaimed softly.
Sitting before him was a scantily clad female Harpy.
She wore nothing but a loincloth like those worn by sumo wrestlers. Aside from that, there wasn't a scrap of fabric on her. Her face, shoulders, and chest were daubed with red and black paint, making her look like a priestess from an Indian tribe.
"Of course it's true, Lord Iver. My sisters and the Children have firsthand information. I flew straight to you the moment I found out—I knew you'd care about this."
The female Harpy smiled meekly and humbly, though a wild, unruly edge lurked in that smile. "I also have plenty of top-secret, exclusive information about the Rebel Army. If you want it, I can give you all of it... If you're willing to pay a little extra, I can also make sure no one else gets the relevant information for several days. Or... several weeks, several months? It's up to you, Lord."
The heat in her gaze made Iver feel almost a little queasy.
It was the first time Iver had so clearly realized what an utterly sleazy, naked gaze looked like...
She was blatantly lusting after his body. Her gaze was practically a tongue licking Iver's face.
He knew Harpies were like this, but this was still his first time personally dealing with one.
Modern Harpies, strictly speaking, were not like the ancient Winged Ones who could float in midair through sheer power. Their features were nowhere near as handsome and beautiful as those of the Winged Ones; they were much