Revenge

Hachinosu Island basked under brilliant sunshine, the sea breeze carrying a salty tang.

Allen's main villa stood at the center, surrounded by scattered buildings in various styles.

"Husband Lord belongs to This Empress alone! You shameless women, stay away from him!"

The Empress blocked the entrance to the main villa, arms spread wide as she tried to stop every female creature from getting inside.

A pink, bewitching aura radiated from her body.

"Hey!! Allen belongs to everyone! Move aside!"

Yamato charged over in a blaze of energy with the Glazed Sword slung over her shoulder, its point aimed directly at Hancock.

"Keep blocking the way, and I'll cut you down!"

Watching the chaos outside, Allen rubbed his temples.

"Ha... Being the lord of a harem really isn't easy..."

His figure flashed, vanishing from the spot as he entered the luxurious "cell" deep within Kamui Space.

Imu was still wearing those magnificent but damaged robes, soaked through before being forcibly dried by the Space Ability.

He was not lying on the bed. Instead, like a sculpture that had lost its soul, he stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window with his back to the door.

Hearing Allen enter, he spun around sharply. The flames of rage in his deep eyes burned even fiercer than before, as though they might reduce Allen to ashes. Yet beneath that fury lay an inescapable despair and humiliation.

He said nothing, but his gaze conveyed countless curses.

"Oh? You look pretty spirited. Your complexion's much better than before."

Ignoring that murderous glare, Allen stretched his Muscles and bones. "That fight at Mary Geoise nearly shook my bones apart. I'm filthy too."

He deliberately sniffed at the nonexistent scent of sweat On Him.

Allen gave a long stretch, his bones cracking softly, then looked at Imu with an utterly sincere smile. "I'm exhausted. Imu, how about we go take a bath and relax together?"

"You lowly insect! In your dreams! I am the master of the Empty Throne! How could I possibly with you... I would rather have my soul utterly extinguished and my body rot away! I will never suffer such unbearable humiliation! Don't even think—"

Imu's roar swept through the entire space like a storm, filled with an extreme rage and humiliation he had never experienced in eight hundred years. Yet before he could finish his threats, his voice stopped abruptly.

His body moved completely beyond his control. Like a puppet manipulated by invisible strings, he stiffly took one step after another toward the bathroom!

The fury in his eyes instantly turned into utter terror and disbelief.

The bathroom was shrouded in mist, Filled with a sweet strawberry scent.

Allen was already lounging comfortably in a huge whirlpool tub full of pink bubbles, with only his head and shoulders exposed. A small, ridiculous crown of foam sat atop his head.

He hummed a cheerful, off-key version of "Rumbel of Wine," holding a little yellow rubber duck in his hand and squeezing it From Time to Time to make it quack.

Imu stood rigidly beneath the enormous rain shower.

Cold water mercilessly poured over him.

His luxurious robes were instantly soaked, clinging tightly to his body and outlining breathtaking curves while making him look even more disheveled.

Water streamed down his silver-white hair and flawless cheeks. It was impossible to tell whether it was water or tears of humiliation.

His expression twisted to the extreme. He bit down so hard on his lower lip that he nearly drew blood, his eyes locked on Allen in the bathtub. If his gaze could fire lasers, Allen would have already been reduced to dust.

After playing with the rubber duck to his heart's content, Allen placed it on a floating tray. He tilted his head toward Imu, who stood there like a wooden post, and blinked. "Hey, don't just stand there wasting water. Water bills are expensive. Since you've got nothing else to do, come scrub my back. There's a bath puff over there."

As his words fell, Imu's body began moving beyond his control once more.

He bent down with extreme stiffness, picked up the fluffy pink bath puff, then began mechanically scrubbing Allen's back with robotic, rigid movements, as though he were wiping down a dangerous explosive.

With every touch, Imu's body tightened further, the fury and humiliation in his eyes nearly becoming tangible.

Allen even gave a serious critique. "Hmm, the pressure's okay... but the angle's a little off... Yeah, right there, a little below the shoulder blade... Tsk, your nails are a bit long. Remember to trim them next time..."

Throughout it all, Imu's heart roared wildly. His silent screams nearly tore his soul apart.

Eight hundred years of majesty, a status above all others, and now he had been reduced to a servant scrubbing the back of his enemy!

This humiliation was a thousand, ten thousand times worse than death!

After the bath, the two moved to the enormous king-size bed.

Allen changed into comfortable pajamas, while Imu was forcibly changed into a set of... cotton pajamas printed with little yellow ducks. The shame and fury made him want to die.

Seeing Imu's expression as though he wanted them both dead, Allen suddenly stroked his chin, a nostalgic look appearing on his face. "Come to think of it... back on Rock Island, you stabbed me more than a dozen times. Every strike was ruthless, every angle vicious..."

Allen's smile gradually faded, and a trace of teasing entered his eyes.

"A gentleman does not leave a grudge unpaid. You stabbed me more than a dozen times, so we should settle that debt properly, right?"

He slowly approached Imu, whose body instantly tensed, his eyes filled with vigilance and fear.

The process of "deep communication."

Imu's soul screamed, cursed, and struggled madly.

Though Soul Imprisonment prevented his body from putting up any real resistance, every inch of his muscles was taut as iron, filled with silent defiance.

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, trying to block out every sensation. Tears of humiliation finally slipped down uncontrollably.

There was only one thought in his heart: Kill this defiler! Destroy everything!

Yet the body was honest.

Eight hundred years of solitude, intimacy he had never experienced before—even if forced—combined with Allen's deliberate, skillful teasing, began to make his physical instincts betray the dam of his will.

A strange, terrifying numbness quietly arose wherever he was touched, spreading through him like an electric current.

To his horror, he discovered that his breathing had become uncontrollably rapid, his skin had begun to burn, and even... certain parts of his body were beginning to react in shameful ways!

This complete separation between body and will drove him closer to collapse than pain ever could.

"No! Stop! This... this is not my will! You vile demon! What evil method did you use?!" Imu screamed inwardly.

When a peak-like wave swept through his entire body beyond his control, Imu's mind went blank in an instant.

What followed was an even more overwhelming sense of humiliation and self-loathing, nearly drowning him!

"Ahhh—! I actually... actually, under the defilement of such a demon... No! Impossible! This must be an illusion! A trap!"