Harem God- Dimensional Motel System
Chapter 37: Interactions With the Locals 15

Chapter 37: Interactions With the Locals 15

Since arriving in this world, there had been no shortage of things trying to kill him—but he would always laughed it off and prevailed. His confidence in his strength was very high.

But now, for the first time, he felt like running.

Every instinct screamed the same thing: death was near.

His hand hovered near the gun at his back, fingers twitching—not just from hesitation, but from instinct.

[Warning: A high-threat entity has entered the vicinity.]

[Recommendation: Run for your life]

This was the first time the system had ever sounded this serious.

What made it worse was that he still couldn’t see a damn thing.

Was the enemy invisible?

[Bonus Objective: Survive.]

"Shit," he cursed aloud.

The mission said it all. The system didn’t even think he could win.

[Emergency escape available. Say the command to exit this world and avoid sure death.]

"Aren’t you being a little judgmental? There’s no way I’d die without a fight."

[Chance of Survival: 11%]

"...Okay, maybe a very short fight."

The air thickened oppressively, as if the atmosphere itself transformed into lead.

In the distance, an ominous figure draped in dark robes appeared. It glided forward , as if the very earth beneath it sighed dark incense in its wake, an ethereal trail of foreboding.

[Warning: Threat level exceeds combat parameters. Recommended response: Evacuation.]

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," he muttered, jaw clenched. "You want me to run. I heard you the first three times."

[Ready to exit world?]

"I want to escape too, believe me," he sighed. "But damn it, my heart’s soft and stupid—I like Neve. So I’m not leaving until I’ve at least tried everything."

[Prioritizing one individual contradicts long-term survival.]

"I know it’s dumb. I just suck at letting go."

The figure stopped just inches from the invisible barrier.

Then, it pulled back the hood, revealing a stunning woman with a mature, regal beauty.

Her purple hair spilled over her shoulders like silk dipped in twilight, and her eyes shimmered with an unnatural violet glow.

She smiled faintly, almost amused, as she raised a hand and let her fingers glide across the unseen wall.

"A barrier?"

Her voice shouldn’t have been so clear, yet it echoed all around, as if the air itself carried her words.

"That woman is leaking death flag like smoke—don’t tell me that’s the evil stepmother,"

[Correct.]

’Is she blind? Because there’s no way she doesn’t know she’s hotter than Neve.’

[The mission was to protect the most beautiful, not the hottest.]

"Fair enough,"

Back in his world, even the so-called ’Baddies’ lined up for surgery because a mirror blinked at them wrong.

Just the usual—women panicking over flaws no one else noticed, while guys wouldn’t even shave unless someone told them they looked like a cave troll.

"Who are you?" she asked, lifting her gaze.

That look alone made his knees weak.

Every instinct screamed the same warning: she could kill him from where she stood—easily.

However, he must stay strong and make sure she doesn’t see right through him.

"My name is Luck, the innkeeper."

"The innkeeper, huh? And you actually expect me to believe that?"

"I don’t care what you believe. I’m just here to run my business."

She raised her eyebrow. "Business? Out here, in the middle of nowhere?"

"I told you I run a business. Never claimed it was a successful one."

There was a moment of silence between them, and it was clear she was hesitating to get closer.

Unlike the prince and the dwarves, her sensitivity to energy was actually working in his favor.

"I’m looking for my daughter. Have you seen her around?"

"What does she look like?"

Her brow twitched, but she answered anyway. "Black hair, dark eyes, and... very easy on the eyes."

"You mean me?" He pointed to his own face.

She kept smiling, but her jaw tightened for a second. "That ego of yours must be exhausting," she said, tone sweet but a little sharp.

Luck scratched his head. That quirky remark just slipped out of habit.

"Oh, don’t mind me—just trying to break the tension. And no, didn’t see anyone matching that description. Though I did spot someone pretty unforgettable—purple hair, glowing violet eyes—"

Just before he could finish, the temperature changed.

He felt it coming and grabbed the smoke bombs, jumping back a split second before a vortex of purple flames erupted where he had been standing.

BANG!

He fired, but the bullet stopped just inches before hitting her.

"What kind of weapon is this?" she questioned, reaching out.

The moment her fingers got close, the ammo detonated—shrapnel tore into her body, catching her completely off guard.

BANG! BANG!

Shots rang out—one hit her shoulder, another grazed her cheek.

"That was a warning shot. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be gone," Luck shouted, his voice filled with false confidence.

More curious than injured, she stood amidst the haze of smoke that curled lazily from the frayed edges of her robes.

Blood traced its way down her shoulder, but her gaze had shifted, no longer fixed on him.

Instead, it landed on the golden pistol now gleaming in his grip.

Her eyes narrowed, and her lips parted slightly in confusion as she took in the sight.

"That... where did you get that?"

Luck remained silent, as he adjusted his stance, the barrel of the gun steady and aimed directly at her.

For a heartbeat, he thought she would simply teleport, drag him out, and rip the truth from his ribs.

’This could be my chance,’

Luck grinned, fanning the pistol theatrically. "This?"

"It’s called the ’Golden Mercy.’ Ever heard of it?"

She blinked twice, almost imperceptibly.

"No," she admitted, voice a shade softer. "Who created that artifact? What lord or lineage do you serve?"

"That’s the fun part," he regained his swagger. "It’s not from any lord here. And whoever made it? Their background’s way beyond anything you’ve ever dreamed of."

He let that sink in, watched her face for the telltale signs of shock or comprehension.

She didn’t flinch, but the small muscles at the corner of her mouth showed a flash of intrigue. There it was—the itch. Even monsters had curiosity.

"How did you come by such a thing?" she demanded.

Luck shrugged with the indifference of a man trading in rare cards, not a death machine.

"Trade secret. But I’ll tell you something for free: it puts a hole in anything, and there’s not a living soul—or dead one—who can patch it faster than they bleed,"

She let out a whisper of a laugh. "You expect me to believe those words? Are you courting death?"

Luck didn’t reply right away. She was right—he was courting death because he needed to sleep with her to get those affection points..

’Feels like this difficulty’s way out of my league.’

His mind was frantically analyzing a dozen potential outcomes of this conversation, most of which concluded with his gruesome demise, leaving his body as a warning to anyone foolish enough to challenge a woman capable of halting bullets in mid-flight.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t afford to let her detect his fear. The instant she perceived any hesitation, it would be game over.