My Taboo Harem System

Chapter 134: Active

Rush hour at the parlour didn’t come every day.

It came when the merchant convoys rolled through — the real ones, the upper district kind, with lacquered carriages and irritable wives and men who’d spent three days on a road and wanted someone to fix that immediately. When those came through, the whole parlour shifted. Rooms filled fast. Antonia stopped smiling and started directing. The air got warmer and the tips got better and everyone moved like they had somewhere to be.

Denzel was in his room. Seated on the edge of the slab, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

His first customer hadn’t come yet.

’Tara.’

The name sat in his head like a stone in still water. He kept coming back to it. What the knight had said — that Tara had passed a message through a customs contact. A friend checking merchant goods through the east gate. That Tara had been sitting in the back of one of those carriages.

’If Sarah’s actually moving goods to the capital...’

Then a customs check made sense. And if that was real, the rest of it could be real too. The knight hadn’t pulled that name from nowhere. Nobody pulled that name from nowhere.

Which meant Tara had actually reached out. Through a chain of strangers he’d never met, through a system that made no logical sense, she’d found a way to get a message to him specifically.

’Of course she did. Because that’s just how she operates.’

He pressed two fingers to his temple.

Last time he’d seen her he’d walked away with fifty points and a gap in his memory where something important used to be. He still didn’t know what she’d taken. He still didn’t know what she was. Fat, cheerful, impossible — she’d smiled at him the whole time like none of it was a big deal.

’And now she wants me in an academy.’

He exhaled through his nose.

’What exactly am I supposed to do with that.’

Three knocks. Short, even. The customer signal.

Denzel stood, rolled his shoulder once, and crossed the room. ’Later. Think about it later. Right now just do the job.’

He pulled the door open.

The knight was standing in the hallway.

Full armour this time — chest plate, pauldrons, the works, like she’d walked straight off a drill ground. Same level expression she’d had at his kitchen table. Same unbothered eyes. Looking at him like she’d been standing there for a while and hadn’t minded.

Denzel looked at her.

’You have got to be kidding me.’

"You don’t give up, do you."

"Correction." The edge of her mouth moved slightly. "I don’t give up easily."

He started to close the door.

Her hand came up and stopped it without effort.

"Is this how you treat a customer?"

He looked at her hand. Looked at her. ’Customer.’ "What."

"A customer," she said again, and stepped inside like he’d invited her.

He let the door fall shut behind her, mind already trying to catch up. "What do you mean, cust — "

Her hand moved to the clasp at her shoulder. One click. The cape dropped to the floor in a clean sweep, pooling around her boots.

She turned to face him. Completely level. Completely serious.

"It’s exactly what you heard." A beat. "I’m here for a massage."

Denzel stared at her.

’...This woman.’

She flicked her eyes over him once, up then down.

"Why the long face?" A small smile pulled at her mouth. "Aren’t you supposed to smile for customers?"

Denzel’s eye twitched.

He smiled.

"Welcome." The word came out smooth, professional, like he hadn’t just been ambushed in his own room. "We offer a full range of therapeutic services here — deep tissue, tension relief, recovery treatment. Is there anything specific you’re looking to address today, or — "

He stopped.

Her hands hadn’t stopped moving.

The chest plate came off first, set aside with the practiced ease of someone who’d done it ten thousand times. Then the arm guards, unclipped and stacked. Piece by piece the armour came away and underneath it was a light fitted singlet, plain and simple, clinging to a frame that was —

’Keep talking.’

" — or we can recommend something based on — "

The singlet came off.

Denzel’s sentence went somewhere it would never return from.

She stood in nothing but a pair of white silk undergarments, the armour and everything else in a pile at her feet, and her expression hadn’t moved a single degree. Same calm. Same steady eyes. Like she undressed in front of strangers on a professional basis and had simply never found a reason to be awkward about it.

Her hands moved to the hem.

"I — " Denzel started.

But in one motion, she pulled off her top.

Her big, flushed breasts bounced free, her tits protruding as they swayed gently before settling. The sudden movement seemed to freeze the air itself, drawing Denzel’s eyes before he could even think to look away.

’Woah...’

His eyes widened, his entire body going still as the unexpected sight caught him completely off guard.

She noticed his stunned expression almost immediately. A faint, amused look crossed her face as she tilted her head, completely unfazed by his reaction.

"What?" she asked. "You haven’t seen a woman half-naked before?"

She moved to the slab and laid herself face down, turning her head just enough to catch him with one eye.

"So? What are you waiting for?"

Denzel stood where he was.

’What exactly is her game here.’

He looked at her, still unsure of why she would push herself to great lengths of paying for a session, all so he could join an academy?

’Hmm...’

His eyes narrowed slightly.

’She has no idea what level she’s dealing with.’

He stepped forward, expression settling into something professional and unbothered.

He rolled his sleeves. Positioned himself at the head of the slab with the quiet efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times and found nothing remarkable about it.

Then, his voice dropped low.

"Yield."

[Ding.]

[Activation phrase detected. Skill is now active.]

His hands descended.