Aside from Lilith, who could be a tsundere, a perennial loser in love, or a yandere, the first heroine, who had yet to appear, was privately known in the player community as the ultimate man-drainer. The dangers and exhausting demands of her route were widely discussed on the forums.
As for the fourth heroine before him, Catherine Roman, once her affection reached a certain threshold, her tendency to meticulously scheme and use every available resource to achieve her goals became especially apparent.
She might smile as she steered the player character into a merchant guild conspiracy, or calmly assess the benefits a relationship could bring, factoring even emotions into her formula for survival.
Greg knew perfectly well that the heroines in this game were anything but innocent, clueless cuties.
They were beautiful, powerful, and distinctive, but each also carried a complicated past and a dark side. They could even be called "villainesses."
Want to get a harmonious harem ending?
With the original game's tangled, conflicting character motivations and hidden descent-into-darkness routes, it was an almost impossible task.
Right up until he was transported here, no guide to a harem ending had ever appeared on the game's forums.
"Lady Catherine."
The maid's voice interrupted Catherine's thoughts. With her head still respectfully lowered, she offered a suggestion:
"Regarding those three who lost contact with us in the Dungeon... might we consider anonymously passing some vague information to the Academy's professors, on the grounds that 'students have gone missing'?"
"Perhaps the Academy would organize a search party to enter the deeper areas. Even if they cannot find them, they might uncover some... residual traces or data that could be of use to us."
Catherine shook her head lightly, with almost no hesitation.
Moonlight edged her expressionless face in cold silver.
"No. Absolutely not."
Her voice was clear and cold, her decision beyond question. "This matter must have no official connection to the Academy whatsoever."
As far as she was concerned, she would rather all three testers die in the Dungeon, with all the experimental data buried forever in the darkness alongside the prototype, than allow the Academy to intervene and investigate.
This new magical device was a crucial step in her secret plans.
If the tests succeeded, improvements and mass production would earn her immeasurable prestige within the merchant guild and substantial profits, giving her an important bargaining chip in the contest for the position of heir.
Its existence had to remain completely secret until she was ready to play that card.
Once the Academy became involved, the nature of the situation would change.
The investigation would likely trace the magical device back to its source. Even the slightest clue would be enough to draw the attention of her sharp-eyed siblings.
Then she would face not a simple failed experiment, but a merciless campaign from within her own family to crush her.
They would never allow her to possess anything that could threaten their positions.
The precise scales in Catherine's mind had long since weighed the risks against the rewards.
A temporary loss of data was tolerable; premature exposure, however, could mean losing everything.
She considered it for a moment, her azure eyes perfectly calm.
"Once the uproar over this intruder has completely subsided and the Academy has returned to normal, immediately find the next suitable group of testers. Until then, carry on as usual. Do nothing unnecessary."
"Yes, my lady."
The maid bowed in acknowledgment, withdrew soundlessly from the room, and gently closed the door behind her.
Silence returned to the room, broken only by the faint scratching of a quill across paper and the distant, gradually fading commotion from the dormitories outside the window.
The moonlight shone coldly as ever, illuminating the blonde girl's exquisite yet aloof profile and the documents detailing her secret plans before her.
"Hey, my other half, dost thou smell anything strange?"
Shortly after the two of them entered the passage leading into the Dungeon, Nightmare's voice suddenly sounded in Greg's mind.
"Wh-who are you calling your other half?! Please call me the Dark Night King! You're the only person in this world who can let me indulge a little and experience that magnificent title. If even you won't play along, what was the point of fighting tooth and nail to win that name from you? Am I supposed to talk to myself in a mirror?! That would be way too pathetic!"
The long, aggrieved rant burst into Greg's mind almost reflexively.
Nightmare fell silent for a moment, then obligingly corrected herself. "Hey, Dark Night King, dost thou smell anything strange?"
Greg replied, "Now that you've actually called me that, it feels even more embarrassing than I imagined. Never mind. Just call me Greg."
Nightmare replied, "...Thou art truly troublesome."
Greg cleared his throat and brought his attention back to the matter at hand.
"All right, back to the smell. What exactly is this strange smell you're talking about? It's... not coming from me, is it?"
He instinctively lowered his head and sniffed his collar.
Although he had spent a long time in the Dungeon, as a modern soul with basic standards of hygiene, he had still tried to keep himself as clean as circumstances allowed.
"It is not thee."
There was a hint of amusement in Nightmare's voice. "It comes from the girl beside thee."
"Sylvia smells strange?"
At that, Greg could not help turning to look at the girl walking beside him.
Sylvia was carefully keeping pace with him. Her long pink hair shone softly in the dim light, and her equally pink eyes were focused on the path ahead, reflecting the faint glow of the luminous moss on the Dungeon's rocky walls.
Her lips were lightly pressed together, and her cheeks had a natural rosy flush. Her slender figure and pure, innocent air really did make people want to protect her.
She really was one of the heroines. There was no faulting those looks...
Greg was momentarily lost in thought.
"G-Greg?"
Noticing his gaze, Sylvia turned her head and met his eyes, a trace of confusion and barely perceptible shyness appearing on her face.
"What is it? Is there... something on my face?"
"No, nothing!"
Greg snapped back to his senses and immediately looked away, explaining in a slightly stiff voice:
"I wasn't doing anything strange, and I wasn't sniffing you, so please don't mind me."
"...Is that so?"
Sylvia blinked her pink eyes. She still looked puzzled, but did not press him. She merely gave a soft "Mm" and returned her attention to the path ahead.
Greg asked Nightmare in his mind, "Aside from a faint fragrance that smells a little like lilies... I don't smell anything 'strange.'"
Nightmare replied, "...What exactly art thou sniffing, thou pervert?"
Greg replied, "Weren't you the one who said she smelled strange first?!"
Nightmare spoke in her ethereal voice, tinged with subtle disdain:
"Yes, there is indeed a faint scent clinging to her... a scent that displeases me, one that belongs to a bitch alone."
Greg stopped dead in his tracks and nearly tripped over the uneven ground.
"...After saying something like that, aren't you the one who sounds more like a bitch?!"
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