Chapter 150: [149]
A servant girl stood stiffly at the doorway, as if her body were nailed in place by the thick air hanging in the room. Before her, a king without a crown lounged, surrounded by helpless women, while the stench of cheap alcohol, herbal smoke, and body odor dominated the cramped space like poison creeping into the lungs.
Half-man, half-bison—Trek was a towering giant over two meters tall, his dark skin covered in old scars and faded tribal tattoos that circled his chest and shoulders. His dreadlocked hair hung loosely, trailing down his back like the roots of an ancient tree, while two massive curved horns jutted from his temples—marking him not just as a warrior, but as an unshakable symbol of power in the city of Eks.
One of his massive hands gripped the thigh of a reptilian beastwoman seated on his lap, feeding him grapes one by one. The other hand squeezed the backside of another woman at his left—drawing a faint moan from her, somewhere between pain and feigned pleasure.
"Aagh~"
"Heh, don’t give me that cheap act," Trek muttered in a voice rough and heavy, like gravel grinding under steel wheels. "You’re the one who crawled in here last night."
Trek grabbed the jug of liquor from the servant’s hands and drank straight from the mouth. The thick liquid poured down, dripping from his jaw to his bare chest, tracing dark lines over his stone-carved muscles. He let out a satisfied breath and leaned back against the stack of snow tiger pelts—now stained by every sin imaginable.
"So," he grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "what’s your reason for bothering me while I’m eating and relaxing?"
The beastwoman swallowed hard. Her voice barely surfaced through the thick tension. "Lord Trek... we... we’ve had a visitor. A human. He took... your ordered merchandise."
Trek turned slowly, as if he’d just heard a tired old joke. "A human?... You mean those weak little sticks whose bones snap in summer wind?"
"Yes... But he’s not just any human. He’s the one from yesterday... the one who took the Kitsune children. They were supposed to be prepared for next week’s offering."
Trek’s smile vanished instantly. He stood, not a single scrap of cloth covering his muscular frame. The girl barely reached his waist. The aura from his massive form was so heavy that the messenger couldn’t even lift her head—she only bowed lower, nodding in fear.
Trek sneered.