Temptation

Little Fatty was startled when he saw Kirk. He barely recognized him.

"Big brother, what happened? I haven't seen you for days. You keep saying you're training—is getting beaten into a pig's head the result?" Little Fatty clicked his tongue.

"Cut the crap. Anything going on in the bull pen?" Little Fatty had no way to beat the gladiators, so he could only keep living in the bull pen.

"Nothing much. One more Contractor died at the hands of the gladiators these past few days. Audi's been quiet. MT keeps pestering him every day, but Audi can't kill MT, so they're at a stalemate."

"In another day, it'll be the Dionysia Festival. We'll be heading to Marseille." Kirk rubbed the swelling on his face.

"Yeah. I wonder what the arena over there will be like. What kind of new tricks will these twisted Romans come up with to mess with us?" Little Fatty was worried, too.

"Big brother, just as you instructed, I've used the [Helen Keller Glasses] to investigate all the Contractors over the past week. My attempts to investigate the Violent Dinosaur mage keep failing because his perception is too high, but I've got the information on everyone else right here."

Kirk opened the document with interest and saw that Little Fatty had really put in the effort. The page listed everyone's height, weight, and measurements, as well as their Survival Points, Skill Potential Points, and Base Attribute Points.

"Didn't I tell you to focus on investigating their attributes and skills? What good is knowing how much money they have?" Kirk was speechless.

"Big brother, this is Arena Mode! There's a bonus for taking them out! Of course I had to find out who the big spenders and the broke ones are for you." Little Fatty spoke with conviction.

Kirk was at a loss for words. He lowered his head and studied the page. "How come every single one of them is dirt poor? There are twelve Contractors, and they don't even have twenty thousand points between them. The richest one only has three thousand?"

In fact, Kirk and Little Fatty ought to have considered that after their beginner scenario adventure, they'd come into a fortune, but as soon as they entered Las Vegas, their money had vanished like eggshells in the wind. Contractors who had survived dangerous scenario worlds wouldn't be foolish enough to keep a large balance in their accounts. At the first opportunity, they'd pour it all into upgrading skills, buying equipment, and improving their attributes, turning it into immediate combat strength so they could face ever-greater risks. Hoarders only left their fortunes behind for their enemies.

"Looks like their equipment is the most valuable thing they have," Little Fatty said, still clinging to the idea.

Just then, a call to assemble rang out. Everyone hurried to gather at the training ground.

The beautiful, lonely blonde woman had turned out to be Illyria, visiting the gladiator training ground once again. Only then did Little Fatty deeply regret not having worked harder before. It was too late for regrets now: the blonde beauty had come to pick gladiators for the performance at the noblewomen's gathering. Little Fatty was still a slave and wasn't even being considered.

Kirk, whose face had been beaten into a pig's head, stood among the gladiators. He wasn't worried about being chosen. His two points of Charisma were enough to make anyone swoon, and with Spartacus having beaten him into a pig's head, he had even less to worry about.

Their mistress, Lucretia, once again played the madam, walking through the line of gladiators with Illyria and describing each one's merits, as if a brothel madam were introducing her top courtesans.

Kirk found it secretly amusing that even that despicable Veteran cult leader was standing tall like a rooster, afraid he wouldn't be picked. Apparently, the man was a lecher, too. That was rather interesting.

Kirk reconsidered. Though Illyria was peerlessly beautiful, anyone could get whatever kind of beauty they wanted by throwing Survival Points around in the space. The bearded man must have come up with another crooked scheme.

When they reached Kirk, even the madam, Lucretia, didn't know how to introduce this short, ugly, poor, nerdy loser of a pig-headed man. She simply waved him away, signaling him to step aside and stop blocking the honored guest's view with his appalling appearance.

To everyone's astonishment, Illyria circled the pig-headed man twice with a faint smile, then gave a slight nod and declared, "I'll take him!"

The cult's self-important grand master, who'd been certain he would be chosen, spat in disbelief. Vero, who had been praying to Jupiter that he wouldn't be selected, spat, too. Even Spartacus, who loathed this kind of service, laughed!

Lady, your taste is something else! Kirk was about as ugly as they came. How could you insult our charms by choosing him?

Kirk's heart roiled with shock. What did this peerlessly beautiful woman want? Why had she chosen him of all people? Should he give in?

As it turned out, he really didn't understand women. Illyria was lonely and restless, and she liked strong gladiators. But she was still a noblewoman of great influence, who had to protect her reputation and public image! No matter how permissive Roman customs were, her senator father and her husband, a Legion Commander, would never allow her to keep lovers openly. At a noblewomen's gathering, she would choose the handsomest men just to feast her eyes—that was no different from a nerd choosing a beautiful woman to watch in an adult video. But now, her desire had finally become too much to bear, and she wanted a man to take home and secretly relieve her frustration. The standards were different. She knew she was a woman deprived of her husband's affection, and that she had little self-control. If she chose a handsome man, she would surely lose herself in lust. If word got out over time, her husband would fly into a rage, her family's honor would suffer, and she'd be in for a miserable time. But if she chose an ugly man she could barely stand to look at, she could get the deed done, then toss him aside without a second thought. So although her gaze had kept wandering over Vero, Spartacus, and Cress, when it came to choosing, she had counted backward from the bottom. She'd pick the ugliest one! That was how Kirk, with his two points of Charisma and the lowest rating of them all, had won the grand prize without even trying.

Kirk was still wrestling with himself. Should he give in or not? That was the question.

He couldn't give in. Her husband was Grebo, Legion Commander of the Roman First Legion and the auxiliary forces. Her father was Abinus, a senator of great power and illustrious standing. Her family had rendered outstanding service since the founding of Rome City; they were practically red royalty. He absolutely couldn't give in.

Well, after analyzing it so thoroughly, he might as well... give in.

There were countless reasons not to give in, but only one reason to do it: Illyria was beautiful enough to rival Daji, beautiful enough to bring a nation to ruin... No, no, the main reason was... well, she was at fault for having such a terrible husband, right? He'd broken up Spartacus and his wife, right? Spartacus was his brother, right? He ought to stand up for him, right? So he should sleep with his brother's enemy's wife, right? It was only natural, right? He'd be upholding justice, acting righteously, and making everyone rejoice, right?

On the way, Kirk went through a complicated inner struggle, and finally decided to defile the beautiful Roman woman... No, to take revenge.

When he followed Illyria into her villa, he was stunned again.

It was a typical Roman noble villa from the Republic era, built against the mountains and facing the sea, gleaming white from end to end. Its main structure was made of marble and shimmered in the Mediterranean sunshine. Sea breezes swept past, gulls soared overhead, and lush greenery spread neatly across the grounds, all brimming with Mediterranean charm. In modern terms, it was a huge luxury villa with its own beach, sea views, and a mountainside location. It would have cost hundreds of thousands per square meter, at the very least.

Inside Illyria's lavish rooms, the place was steeped in the extravagance and decadence of the Roman era. Reliefs covered the walls, depicting gods, philosophers, Roman heroes, and scenes of battle. Ivy draped over the Roman columns, and the fountains spilled over sparkling colored stones.

"How much would a beachfront luxury villa like this cost?" Kirk tried to pry the ruby eyes from a Giant Snake statue, but a blonde maid caught him and glared. He awkwardly pretended he'd only been admiring and touching it.

"Sit wherever you like." Illyria had changed into comfortable clothes, and Kirk nearly popped his eyes out. The beauty was wearing a snow-white silk gown. Silk was the height of fashion among Rome's upper class at the time, and it was worth a fortune. Later, when Caesar the Conqueror of Gaul returned to Rome, he wore silk clothes to show off his wealth, leaving the city's out-of-fashion bumpkins in the dust. As a member of a prominent family, the daughter of a high-ranking official, and the wife of a Legion Commander, Illyria could naturally afford to follow the latest fashions.

None of that mattered. What mattered was that the woman's silk dress had the deep, wet-look V-neck favored by Gan Lulu, revealing a deep cleavage. Bras hadn't been invented yet, which meant... Ahem... You know what that meant...

Her slender, girlish waist was tightly cinched with a wide sash, making her figure look all the more willowy and serpentine. She had the delicate, willowy grace of an Eastern woman, while also displaying all the alluring features of a Western beauty: a full chest, slim waist, shapely hips, and long legs. Kirk's mouth went dry as he stared.

Even worse, the close-fitting silk gown traced the contours of the blonde beauty's hips and legs. Her one-meter-long legs swayed as she walked, and her backside bounced beneath the hem. Kirk, whose Willpower check was only two points, silently wept.

It seemed that his pure body, which he'd protected for over twenty years, was about to fall to this virgin killer's wicked charms!

If you're going to come, then hurry up!

Damn it, why wasn't she coming?

Kirk realized something was wrong. Blushing, he opened his eyes and saw a black female slave standing in the doorway. She was a hulking, two-hundred-pound "female gorilla" from the African continent. Kirk nearly pissed himself. He wanted to die.

Illyria, you didn't have to go down on me, fine, but last time with Vero, I at least got a blonde beauty. I could have settled for her! But if you're making me do it with this ape, I'd rather die...

It turned out that Illyria was still a little hesitant, so she'd sent the black female slave to take Kirk for a test run. It was basically an interview and a physical examination; she'd decide whether to take him herself afterward.

At the last moment, Kirk chose to die rather than submit. He knocked the gorilla woman down with one punch and ran. Behind him, Illyria laughed, shouted at him, and ordered the slaves to chase him, yelling as they ran.

Better to shatter than to be whole! Kirk thought indignantly. If you won't let me shatter, I'll smash the tiles, too!

He raced wildly through Grebo's villa. Luckily, the place was huge, spanning thousands of square meters with over a hundred rooms. Most of the servants had followed Grebo to Rome City, where he spent most of his time, and there weren't many slaves left behind, so they couldn't catch Kirk right away.

Seeing a library, Kirk scrambled inside. It must have been the study and office of the master of the house, Grebo, Legion Commander of the Roman First Legion. Various parchment scrolls and maps lay on the desk. Rome had no paper at the time; parchment was all they had. Chinese papermaking wouldn't reach Europe until the Middle Ages, when the Arabs brought it over. Kirk rummaged through the papers and came across a letter. Its parchment bore the mark of a wax seal, showing that it was no ordinary letter.