Damon blinked slowly, staring at the glass of liquor before him. The reflection of the lantern's flame flickered on the golden surface, and for a moment he almost lost himself in it, thinking how easy it would be to just drink, forget everything, and let those ten women drag him wherever they pleased.
Then, the familiar, cold sound echoed in his mind:
[Mission: Just talk to the courtesans]
His eyes widened for a moment. "...What?" he muttered softly, more to himself than to anyone else. "What the fuck? Why... I thought this thing was going to tell me to sleep with all of them."
Hana, the courtesan in the flowery kimono who stood closest, inclined her head with a graceful smile.
"Is there a problem, sir?" she asked sweetly.
Damon forced a wry smile.
"No... no problem." He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the strange throbbing in his mind. The system wasn't asking for anything more than conversation. But why the hell did that seem so much harder than fighting off a dozen armed bandits?
The women continued to fan out around him, each finding a subtle way to get his attention. One filled his glass, another strummed a shamisen, plucking soft notes that filled the air, while a third, in a red kimono, lightly pressed her shoulder against his, as if seeking closeness without daring to be intrusive.
"Tell me, mister traveler," Hana began, resting her delicate chin on her palm, "what brought you to Phoenix Song?"
"An absurd order from an even more absurd woman," Damon thought, but stopped himself.
"Just business," he replied, keeping his voice calm. "Business… why am I talking like one of those cultivators in a Chinese novel?"
The courtesan in the sky-blue kimono chuckled softly, her laughter like the sound of bells. "Business always brings tired men to us. But you don't look tired… you look… restless."
He looked away, lightly squeezing the coin purse in his lap. "Perhaps a little."
[Mission Progress: 3%]
The warning flashed through his mind. Damon took a deep breath. "So that's it… just talk. No tricks, no detours."
One of the women approached with a small tray. "Have some dried fruit, sir. They're good with the liquor." Her voice was soft, almost shy.
He accepted a slice, chewing slowly. The sweet and bitter taste spread in his mouth, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the feeling of being on a different battlefield—one where every look, every smile, and every word was a delicate blade pointed at him.
"And you travel alone?" asked the courtesan in the red kimono, bowing slightly, her dark eyes fixed on him.
Damon almost laughed. "Alone? If only…"
"Not exactly. I have companions." He answered honestly with a smile.
"Men-at-arms?" Hana asked.
"Yes," he answered simply.
[Mission Progress: 11%]
The system seemed to be having fun at his expense. Damon set the ancient spear down beside the table, running his fingers along the rough handle. "I imagine this isn't a common sight around here."
The women glanced at each other, some smiling, others chuckling.
"Indeed, it isn't," Hana said. "A spear is a symbol of discipline, of combat, of someone who does not fear war. Few travelers enter here carrying one of these."
One of the courtesans, the youngest, leaned forward to peer at the weapon. "It looks heavy... but... beautiful."
He arched an eyebrow. "Heavy, yes. Beautiful... I'm still deciding."
[Mission Progress: 23%]
Damon took another deep breath. "This will be long..."
"And you, sir, where are you from?" asked the woman in the blue kimono, delicately running her fingers along the rim of the cup before pushing it toward him.
He hesitated. "From a distant place."
"All men say that." Hana smiled, her eyes narrowed. "But those who speak little often have the most interesting stories."
Damon looked at her, and for a moment, the shadow of a genuine smile escaped. "Perhaps."
[Mission Progress: 35%]
'Go! Hurry up!! It's been a month since I was reborn in this world, and I still don't know anything! Hurry up, hurry up, you damned mission progress!!' Damon was truly… mad inside.
Damon slowly turned the porcelain cup between his fingers, watching the golden liquor shimmer in the soft light of the lanterns. The murmur of the courtesans was like a wave of sweet voices and calculated laughter, each trying, in their own way, to gain space beside him.
Hana, always nearby, poured more liquor with fluid, elegant movements. "Allow me, sir. The drink tastes even better when shared with me."
Before Damon could respond, the courtesan in the red kimono leaned forward, resting her arm on the table, exposing part of her cleavage.
"No, no, Hana. He's already proven your hospitality." She slid her fingers around her glass and looked directly at Damon. "I bet he prefers more... vibrant company."
The one in sky blue laughed softly, leaning against his shoulder as if it were natural. "How pretentious of you. You've traveled a lot, haven't you? A tired man doesn't seek 'vibration.' He seeks softness... and rest."
Damon blinked, feeling the growing weight of the situation. He took a deep breath and raised his glass. "Actually... I just want good conversation and a good drink. Nothing more."
[Mission Progress: 41%]
The courtesans exchanged glances, some chuckling softly, as if in disbelief.
"Oh, sir..." Hana said, leaning in even closer. "No man enters here seeking only words."
"Well, perhaps I will be the first," Damon retorted, taking a sip, forcing himself to appear firm.
The woman in the red kimono arched a brow provocatively.
"So this is a challenge? Conversation... until dawn?" Her voice was laced with irony, but also with genuine interest.
[Side quest activated: Hold the word until the end of the night.]
"Good... just what I needed," Damon thought, silently gritting his teeth.
The shamisen music grew louder, filling the room with a livelier rhythm. Two more courtesans approached with small plates of candied fruit and dried fish, trying to please him in an almost childlike manner. One even knelt beside him, resting her chin on her hand and looking up as if she were a pupil before her master.
"Tell us something about your journey," she asked softly. "Men who cross distant lands always bring stories."
Damon took a deep breath. "They're not pretty stories... but I suppose you've heard them all."
"FUCK!" He screamed internally, "I'm really playing a Chinese novelist, what the hell! I need to string these women along!"
"Then tell me the worst one," the woman in red insisted, with a defiant smile.
Damon inwardly needed to find a way out... "Fuck it, reading Chinese novels has always been my forte. Let's improvise!"
He thought of battles, of blood, of hunger, and of the countless storybooks he'd already read in his room. But he chose something lighter.
"In a village in the countryside, a knight once tried to sell me his own horse... dead." He said with a smile, "It works... laugh your..."
The courtesans widened their eyes before bursting into delicate giggles, covering their mouths with their kimono sleeves.
[Mission Progress: 58%]
"So that's it... the more I talk, the more I advance." Damon relaxed his shoulders a little, but quickly realized the "battle" was far from over.
The one in blue slid even closer, her voice low as a whisper. "It's not fair to share you with so many. Choose one, sir. Just one."
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"I can't choose. They all seem very... determined," he replied, trying to turn the refusal into a compliment.
Hana narrowed her eyes, but smiled sweetly. "You're playing with us, aren't you?"
"No," Damon replied firmly. "I'm just being honest."
[Mission Progress: 72%]
The silent contest continued. Each sought to stand out—a bolder smile, a more melodious laugh, a more delicate gesture as they filled their glass. Damon, however, stood firm, answering questions, deflecting advances, keeping his drink as a shield.
"So, sir, what do you desire most in this life?" Hana asked, leaning in until her eyes were inches from his.
For a moment, Damon nearly choked on his own silence. Some slightly erotic images came to mind, and he gave a small cough.
He set down his glass, staring at Hana seriously. "I wish... to accomplish what I must. And live to see tomorrow."
"Keep up that speech. Like an eager cultivator! Yes, I will be like the Murin Alliance Leader who died and was reborn as the celestial demon!"
The courtesans looked at each other. Some looked disappointed, others intrigued. But for some reason, none of them laughed.
[Mission Progress: 89%]
The room grew quieter, as if the women themselves were evaluating him differently now. Not just as a customer, but as someone who didn't fit the rules of the place.
Damon rested his arm on the table, taking a deep breath. "Now… why don't you two tell me some stories? I imagine you have many."
The gleam in their eyes changed. The tables were turned. For the first time that night, the courtesans seemed to truly relax, letting out less rehearsed laughter, real memories, small confidences.
And Damon realized he had won the battle without having to choose any of them.
[Quest Completed: Just talk to the courtesans.]
[Reward: ???]
However… All good things must come to an end.