The sky above Daten City, already oppressive, darkened until it became a slab of lead. A distant thunder rolled —a grim herald of the coming storm. The first raindrops, heavy and dirty, began to strike the pavement, blending with the oil and grime that coated the streets.
"We need a roof. Now," declared Devyus, his voice cutting through the rising murmur of the rain.
His eyes scanned the street and stopped at a flickering neon sign that read "THE HIVE", with the silhouette of a winking, dancing bee.
The thump of bass-heavy music leaked from inside each time the bouncer —a broad, dark-skinned man with too many muscles and a pair of oversized black sunglasses— opened the door for incoming patrons.
Catherine wrinkled her nose with disdain. "Onii-sama, a gentlemen's club? That's… vulgar."
Beside her, Katherine adjusted her glasses with visible disapproval.
"Indeed. There must be more discreet and appropriate options. A closed café, perhaps a library—"
Devyus gave them a skeptical look and cut her off with a weary sigh.
"We're not looking for pleasure, we're looking for shelter. And this place will do. Besides… do you really think, from what we've seen of this city, that cafés or libraries even exist here? I'd rather not spend our treasures or trade what we have yet —it draws attention. Nor do we have enough local currency for anything better than a rat-infested cubicle. And I'd prefer not to 'acquire' more funds through violence in a city already drowning in it."
He started walking toward the entrance without looking back.
"And please," he added over his shoulder, "don't act as if the atmosphere of this place doesn't appeal to your nature. Let's go in."
The sisters looked ready to protest again, but they knew better. Their brother's control —at least in their presence— was ironclad. Besides, such places often carried valuable information; bartenders always heard drunken rumors. At the very least, it was a chance to listen and learn.
They followed Devyus, who gave the bouncer a polite nod. The man's cold stare remained unbroken, but he opened the door without a word, letting the trio slip into The Hive.
Inside, the club was exactly what they expected: a cavernous space drowned in pink and blue neon gloom. The air was thick with the scent of cheap alcohol, synthetic perfume, and sweat.
At the back were rows of tables, many empty, others filled with men of all kinds —from factory workers to executives with loosened ties— crowding as close as possible to the elegant stage.
The stage entrance, framed by a yellow hexagon befitting a place called THE HIVE, tried to mimic a refined theatre curtain. At its center stood a circular platform and a pole, where a woman was currently swaying her hips to the pulse of electronic music.
Other women, dressed in playful bee-themed outfits and professional smiles, moved between tables offering overpriced drinks.
The sisters lingered near the entrance, their posture rigid, their noses wrinkled in disgust —barely masking a tense curiosity. Their feline eyes, now visible, scanned the crowd with predatory precision, so unlike the glazed stares of the clientele.
Devyus gestured for them to follow. Unperturbed, he led them to the bar —a long counter of dark wood and embedded lights. They sat on three empty stools, and he signaled to the bartender, a stout man with a stained apron.
"Three whiskeys. The cheapest you have," he said, sliding a few coins across the counter.
The bartender nodded and poured three glasses of murky amber liquid. Devyus pushed two toward his sisters, who sat beside him stiff as statues.
"Relax," he murmured, sipping his drink. "This is just a stop. A place to wait and plan our next move. Observe. Learn. This city runs on desires like these."
Catherine lifted her glass cautiously, sniffing it before taking a small sip. She grimaced. "It's revolting."
A waitress in a tight bee costume approached them, offering another round. Devyus accepted, leaving a bill on her tray. The woman smiled and winked back, teasingly.
"Efficient," corrected Katherine, taking a small, analytical sip. "A low-quality central nervous depressant. But it serves its purpose as camouflage."
Still, her eyes, behind the lenses, couldn't help but follow the movement of another waitress —her short yellow dress gleaming under the lights.
The waitress noticed Katherine's stare, winked, and blew her a kiss. The succubus's skin tone flushed faintly, almost human. She looked down, gulped her drink, and tried to recover her composure.
Then the main lights went out, leaving only a single spotlight over the stage. The music shifted —sharper, more electric, with an acid pulse.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" shouted the host, a man in a worn tuxedo, speaking into a microphone from a booth near the corner. "THE HIVE proudly presents a girl from another world! The queen who turns your strangest fantasies into reality! Please welcome... the one and only... PINKY!"
A burst of pink smoke filled the stage. The curtains parted—
And there she was.
A girl with violet skin stepped into the yellow hexagonal frame. Her hair, bright pink, was tied into two large odango buns, bangs covering her eyes completely except for a wide, fanged smile —four long canines gleaming under the light.
She wore something resembling a torn, sensual astronaut suit —futuristic, metallic, and scandalously stylish— with thigh-high boots and fingerless gloves. But what stood out most was her makeup: black and gold streaks beneath her eyes, giving her a distinctly alien, exotic look.
And then, she began to dance.
It wasn't vulgar —it was hypnotic. Her movements were fluid, defying gravity itself; each step deliberate, every motion a blend of power and grace. Her purple skin shimmered beneath the lights, her playful grin daring the audience. She controlled the stage, the rhythm, and every heartbeat in the room with raw, magnetic confidence.
Devyus froze, utterly captivated, his drink halfway to his lips. In her, he saw more than a dancer —he saw untamed power, something wild caged behind neon glass.
Catherine and Katherine both noticed his fixation instantly. A deep, instinctive surge of demonic jealousy tightened in their chests.
"Onii-sama, control yourself," Catherine hissed through clenched teeth.
"Her dance technique is... acceptable, but the display is unnecessary," added Katherine, her tone colder than usual.
Devyus didn't reply. He kept watching, analyzing every twist, every movement. He saw beyond performance —he saw a weapon, unrefined yet radiant.
The music reached its climax. "Pinky" ended with a triumphant pose, panting slightly, her grin widening as the club erupted in cheers and whistles.
Devyus stood and applauded, then slowly sat back down, lowering his glass.
"It's not vulgar," he murmured, voice low and contemplative. "It's... untapped potential."
His mind, always calculating, began to weave possibilities. This place, this girl... could be more than shelter from the rain.
"Drink," he said, turning to his sisters, whose jealousy still burned in their eyes. "We'll stay until the storm passes... and then decide what we'll do with this city."
Yet his gaze drifted once more toward the stage, where the girl who had just stolen his attention was collecting her tips —a seed of interest, perhaps something more, now firmly planted in the Duke's mind.
Outside, the storm was only beginning.
Inside Devyus... the bee had already stung.
Next chapter arrives every Wednesday.Desire sharpens, darkness stirs, and the Venomania circle tightens its hold.
© 2025 D.S.V.
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