Monster Harem In The Tower
Chapter 112: Dual Carenation

Chapter 112: Dual Carenation

The panel disappeared.

No pause. No warning.

Only the sound of wind, as if it was pulling all the light from the air.

Suddenly— A pair of cold hands covered Nathan’s eyes from behind. Soft, but piercing to the skull.

"—Huh?"

Nathan reflexively tried to move, but before he could—

Tak!

His head was pulled back, just enough to slam against the warm trunk of the Prunus Vitalis tree.

"Aw! What the—!"

His hands quickly reached for those cold hands—but they were already gone.

Silence.

Then, from behind the tree he had been leaning on, a figure slowly crawled out.

Her skin was pale, like a newborn moon.

Her long hair dragged across the roots.

Her shoulders were bony under the thin pale skin, and her breasts bounced like balloons prepped for a prank video.

Black eyes on a face too beautiful to be crawling like that.

Her lips curled into a faint smile—dark, with corners tilted up ever so slightly.

"Sh.. shit.." Nathan flinched. His whole body tensed. His dick twitched for half a second.

"Hehe~" the voice finally came.

A voice he already knew.

The Tower Manager.

She was now sitting on the ground, knees bent, one hand sweeping her long hair aside, smiling sweetly.

"W-why did you show up like that?" Nathan stammered, half-panicked, half-confused.

The Tower Manager blinked slowly. "Surprise~"

"...Surprise my ass," Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. "I could’ve gotten a concussion."

"Sorry," she said with a soft smile.

That word felt wrong coming from her.

Sorry? The Tower Manager? Nathan frowned.

He squinted. "You apologizing? That’s new."

The Tower Manager just smiled.

"Uh... eumm..." Nathan scratched his head. "Why are you here? Couldn’t you just tell your story through the panel?"

"I came here..." she began, slowly getting up and sitting beside Nathan. Her thigh touched the outer side of his leg. "Because... today is your birthday, Nathan."

"Huh? How do you—" Nathan didn’t finish the sentence. A quick flash of memory explained everything.

Nathan clicked his tongue. "Come on... You don’t have to copy my mom that much."

The Tower Manager gently stroked Nathan’s hair, her fingers sliding between the strands—cold, yet deliberate.

"Why not? Am I wrong for wanting to be a good mother to you?"

Nathan sighed deeply.

He paused for a moment, then took her hand off his head and placed it on her lap.

"Whatever. I don’t care anymore. Do whatever you want."

He stared blankly ahead. "So what are you gonna tell me?"

The Tower Manager teased with a sultry tone.

"Don’t you want to... play with these?"

She lifted both of her breasts with her hands, pushing them slightly upward. Then her right hand slid downward and gently pointed at her crotch.

"And maybe get a massage... down there?"

Nathan swallowed hard. The night suddenly felt too warm.

"Y-yeah that’s kinda goo—"

"Just kidding~" the Tower Manager cut him off with a smug grin.

Nathan closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

"Okay. Funny. Real funny. Now just tell the damn story."

Finally, the Tower Manager straightened her posture. Her shoulders firm, chest rising and falling gently as she inhaled. Her eyes turned toward the stars.

She cleared her throat. "Long ago... there was an entity. She tried to stop mankind from committing their greatest sin." Her gaze stayed on the sky.

"She had no weapons. No wings. But... she was beautiful." A thin smile formed on her dark lips. "And that became a problem."

Nathan listened silently.

"Because sinful women began to envy her. They spread rumors... said her skin was too pale, poisoned. Her black lips, venomous. Her black clothes? Said it was because she betrayed God."

Nathan finally spoke. "...That was you?"

The Tower Manager nodded, then smiled. A small, ambiguous smile. Her eyes blinked slowly.

"Yeah... That’s me."

She leaned in and pinched Nathan’s cheek gently.

"You may call me... the name they used to call me."

She glanced at Nathan, her right hand reaching for his head, pulling his cheek softly as she looked into his eyes.

"W-what name?" Nathan tried to resist her milky mommy grip.

The Tower Manager leaned closer to his ear. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Lilith."

Nathan’s eyes widened. His breath caught.

"So... you’re a demon?" he muttered, disbelieving.

The Tower Manager stared at him.

Then—slap!

A hard slap landed on Nathan’s left cheek. His face turned slightly from the force. It wasn’t just the skin—it hit him straight to the chest.

"Agh—" Nathan froze.

Not because it hurt.

But because the Tower Manager’s expression had changed completely.

Her eyes were no longer half-playful.

Her brows lowered. Her stare pierced.

Her whole body radiated a coldness like obsidian doused in eternal snow.

Nathan tensed. His throat dry. Cold sweat creeping from his temples.

The Tower Manager looked truly angry.

She raised her hand again. Nathan instinctively shut his eyes.

But instead of another slap—a soft hand touched his hair. Gently stroking.

"...Eh?"

Her fingers grabbed some of his hair, then tugged it —just a bit. Controlled, but firm.

"Watch your mouth... kiddo," she whispered near his ear, jaw clenched slightly, mouth half open like someone pissed but holding it in.

Nathan swallowed. His face flat, but his mind racing. He muttered,

She even copies how my mom used to get mad?

She let go. Sat upright again, hands on her lap.

This is starting to feel like too much... Nathan looked down.

But silence followed.

The night breeze whispered through the leaves, like it too wanted to hear what came next.

The Tower Manager stared at him. Her lips parted slightly—but she didn’t speak right away.

Then, she leaned forward. Still locking eyes with him.

"Nathan..." she said softly. "When I said that sentence after i tell you my true name... you looked shocked."

Nathan slowly lifted his head. Their eyes met.

"I know it was your mother’s sentence... but your reaction was too deep. Why?"

Nathan exhaled, slow and deep.

"Because that sentence..."

He looked down at the ground. His voice slightly trembling.

"She always said that whenever I had problems." He hugged his knees. "And weirdly... she always knew. I never told her. Never made weird faces at home. But she knew. Every single time something was wrong... she just knew."

The Tower Manager was silent.

Then a faint smile appeared on her lips. She tilted her head and said softly,

"Oh... I missed that part, it seems."

Nathan glanced sideways.

She chuckled.

"That sentence... so simple," she murmured.

"’Nathan, if you have a problem, don’t forget to tell your mom.’"

Nathan looked down. Blank face. But his eyes... carried something.

He slowly let go of his knees, and gripped the soil below—not tight, not angry.

Just... holding it in.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"And you... never really told her, huh?"

Nathan shrugged lightly. "No..."

The Tower Manager smiled bitterly. Then leaned again, pressing a finger to Nathan’s forehead.

"Now... you can talk. Whenever you feel shattered. I’m here.

Not just as a higher being, not just as the Tower’s manager— Even if it’s rude of me... I’ll take the place your mother could never reach."

Nathan blinked. "What?"

Something was shifting—

not in the sky, not in the soil, but in the silence between breaths.

A pause too long.

A sentence too soft.

As if the world knew it had reached a fragile point—

where memories could slip,

where emotions could spill,

and something irreversible might begin.

Nathan didn’t notice it at first.

Neither did she.

But the Tower did.

And so did the system, watching quietly,

recording the weight of this moment

without daring to interfere.

She smiled, then whispered:

"To be the place where your stories rest."

The moment lingered—soft, uncertain, yet unwilling to disappear.

---

Outside the Tower, sunlight shone bright.

A pair of low heels tapped hurriedly against the apartment hallway floor.

Two women.

One middle aged.

One young with an ideal posture.

They walked from opposite directions down the hall.

No words.

No greetings.

But their pace— equally rushed.

The young woman gripped her phone tightly.

On the screen, it was clear:

< Last message – "I’ll work late to keep you company." >

Her thumb trembled slightly,

but her expression stayed composed.

Only her eyes— sharp, worried.

The middle-aged woman also stared at her screen.

But what showed— Missed call log.

Dozens. All to one name.

She bit her lip lightly, as if holding back something she wasn’t ready to say.

They kept walking.

Still, no glances exchanged.

Until—

Their steps stopped.

In front of the same door.

A regular apartment door.

Dark brown paint.

A rusted door number.

They slowly turned their heads... And finally looked at each other.

Silence.

For a moment, only the hum of an old AC unit at the end of the hall filled the space.

The light above them flickered weakly.

Their eyes met.

Heavy with questions. Heavy with worry.

But inside both—a small fragment of hope.

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