100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 751: Chapter 750- Kidnapped the MILF mermaid

The daughter, whose smile had been confident, faltered. The ’he-wants-to-see-her-now’ uncertainty that was also the ’the-curtain-is-not-ready’ hesitation. She trembled. The ’he-is-pushing’ awareness that was also the ’I-am-not-in-control’ discomfort.

She pulled a cord. The rope, which was connected to the curtain mechanism, was yanked. The fabric, the heavy velvet, parted. The stage, which had been hidden, was revealed.

The glass jar, the large and reinforced container, was at the center. The glass, thick and tempered, was not ordinary. The ’this-cost-a-fortune’ glass that was also the ’it-cannot-be-broken’ assurance.

Inside the jar, the woman was displayed. Her body, the blue-green skin of a mermaid, was curled. Her hair, silver and long, was spread around her. Her tail, the powerful appendage that was her heritage, was tied. The rope, which wrapped around the scaled length, was tight. Her hands, bound behind her back, were secured. Her mouth, stuffed with cloth, was gagged. Her eyes, golden and large, were wet. The ’I-am-a-victim’ eyes that were also the ’please-help-me’ plea.

The presentation, the ’she-is-captured-and-helpless’ presentation, was designed to appeal to the buyer’s dominance. The ’you-can-own-her’ implication that was also the ’she-is-yours-to-use’ promise.

Viktor looked at the mermaid. At the bound body. At the tied tail. At the gagged mouth. At the wet golden eyes.

"She looks good, right?" the daughter said. Her voice, which had recovered its confidence, was the ’I-know-you-want-her’ tease. The ’she-is-worth-every-coin’ salesmanship that was also the ’pay-up’ demand.

Viktor smiled.

He stood. The motion, which was calm and unhurried, was the ’I-am-going-to-take-a-closer-look’ movement that no one questioned. He walked. To the jar. His step, measured and deliberate, crossed the stage. The pirates, who had been in the shadows, watched. The daughter, whose glass was at her lips, watched. The mermaid, whose golden eyes had been on the daughter, found his face.

He tapped the glass.

The sound, the ’tap’ of his knuckle on the surface, was light. Almost gentle. The ’I-am-testing-the-glass’ tap that was also the ’let-me-feel-the-thickness’ assessment.

The glass shattered.

The CRASH was deafening. The jar, the reinforced and unbreakable jar, exploded. The shards, the thick pieces of tempered glass, flew in every direction. The water, which had filled the jar, poured onto the stage. The mermaid, whose body had been suspended in the glass, fell.

The daughter, whose wine glass had been at her lips, dropped it. The bottle, which she had been holding in her other hand, slipped. Her face, which had been confident, went white. The ’the-glass-is-broken’ shock that was also the ’that-is-impossible’ denial. The glass, which had been enchanted, which had been tested against hammers and swords, had shattered from a tap.

The moment, the ’everything-has-changed’ moment, lasted a heartbeat.

Viktor grabbed the mermaid. His arms, under her back and knees, scooped her up. Princess carry. The motion, which was practiced and smooth, was the ’I-have-done-this-before’ ease. The mermaid, whose body was wet and bound, was in his arms. Her tail, still tied, hung. Her hands, still bound, were against his chest. Her mouth, still gagged, was muffled. Her golden eyes, wide with shock, found his face.

"Then I’m taking her," he said.

The words, the ’I-am-leaving-with-your-mermaid’ declaration, were delivered with the same casual tone that he might use to comment on the weather. The ’I-have-paid-and-I-am-taking-my-purchase’ authority that was also the ’you-cannot-stop-me’ certainty.

Everyone blinked. The pirates, the daughter, the shadows. The ’did-he-just-say’ confusion that lasted one heartbeat. Two.

Then he vanished.

The air, the space where he had been standing, was empty. The mermaid, who had been in his arms, was gone. The water, which had been on the stage, was still. The glass shards, which had been scattered, were undisturbed.

The CRACK of displacement, the sound of magical teleportation, hit a second later. The shockwave, the burst of air that followed a spatial jump, knocked the nearest pirate off his feet. The lanterns, swinging from the impact, cast wild shadows.

"He kidnapped the lady!" The scream, which came from a pirate in the back, was the ’this-is-bad’ scream that was also the ’the-captain-will-kill-us’ terror. The alarm, the ’we-have-been-robbed’ alarm, spread. The pirates, who had been frozen, moved. They ran. To the stage. To the broken glass. To the empty space where the mermaid had been.

"Mother!!!" The daughter’s scream, which was the ’he-took-her’ scream that was also the ’the-trap-is-ruined’ panic, was the loudest. Her voice, the half-mermaid voice that carried the melodic resonance, pierced the ship. Her face, which had been confident, was twisted. The ’everything-is-going-wrong’ expression that was also the ’how-did-he-do-that’ disbelief.

~ Part V: The Forest

The mermaid’s internal thoughts were a cascade of panic.

’No no no no no. Where am I? What is happening? The glass. It broke. He grabbed me. He is moving. Fast. Too fast. The air. The pressure. I cannot— where is the water? I cannot breathe. No. I can breathe. The air is here. But where am I? The ship. The pirates. The daughter. Where—’

The displacement, the teleportation that had carried them from the ship to the shore, ended. The world, which had been a blur of motion and pressure, solidified. The air, which had been the stale and salty atmosphere of the ship’s hold, was replaced.

By flowers.

The scent, the sweet and fresh scent of wildflowers, hit her first. The air, clean and warm, filled her lungs. Her gills, which had been gasping, closed. Her lungs, which had been secondary, took over. The ’I-can-breathe’ relief that was also the ’where-am-I’ question.

Her golden eyes, which had been squeezed shut, opened. The light, the warm and golden light of afternoon, was filtered through leaves. The trees, the tall and green trees of a forest, surrounded them. The flowers, the organized and beautiful flowers of a garden, were beneath her.

She was being held. In his arms. The princess carry, which had not changed, was still in effect. His arms, under her back and knees, were warm. His chest, against which her bound hands rested, was solid. His face, the green-eyed and handsome face, was above her. Looking down.

"This big fish is trying to struggle outside the water," he said. His voice, amused and casual, was the ’I-find-this-funny’ observation.

The mermaid flinched. The words, the ’big-fish’ insult, made her angry. The ’I-am-not-a-fish’ anger that was also the ’release-me’ demand. Her tail, the powerful appendage that could shatter stone, swung. The motion, the ’I-will-slap-him’ motion, was fast. The scaled tail, the heavy and muscular appendage, aimed for his face.

It hit.

The impact, the ’tail-against-muscle’ impact, should have broken his jaw. Should have sent him flying. Should have shattered bone. The force, the full force of a mermaid’s tail, was enough to crush a boulder.

His face did not move. His body did not shift. His arms, which held her, did not falter. The impact, the tail against his jaw, was absorbed. The muscles, the supernatural muscles that were beneath his skin, did not yield.

Her eyes widened. The ’he-did-not-move’ realization that was also the ’that-is-impossible’ denial that was also the ’what-is-he’ terror. Her mother’s instinct, her every sense, every survival instinct that had kept her alive in the ocean’s depths, stopped. The ’this-creature-is-not-human’ certainty that was also the ’I-am-in-his-power’ acceptance.

Viktor looked down at her. The green eyes, which had been amused, were calm. The ’now-do-you-understand’ calm that was also the ’stop-struggling’ command.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked.