With 400 DP now burning a hole in my system, I opened the Architect Menu. The dungeon expanded in my mind like a dark, intricate blueprint. I didn't want a simple gauntlet of monsters; I wanted a psychological meat-grinder. I wanted Marcus to lose his mind long before he lost his life.
"If I want to break a 'Hero,' I have to attack the very blood in his veins," I murmured to the silent stones.
I spent 150 DP on the [Arousal Mist Trap]. In the main corridor leading to the second floor, hidden vents carved into the mouths of gargoyles began to hiss. A thick, sweet-smelling pink fog poured out, heavy with the scent of crushed lilies and raw musk. This wasn't just a gas; it was a magical irritant. It was designed to soak through leather and mail, turning every nerve ending on a man's body into a source of agonizing, electric sensitivity. It would make his armor feel like a thousand needles and his own heartbeat feel like a hammer against his ribs.
Next, I looked at the Bestiary. I needed more than just mindless Slimes. For 100 DP, I summoned a pair of [Low-Tier Imps].
They didn't just appear; they tore their way out of the shadows, cackling with a high-pitched, grating glee. They were small, leathery creatures with needle-teeth and eyes the color of burning sulfur. These weren't warriors; they were harassers. They were foul-mouthed demons who lived to mock the "virtue" of men. I gave them a single command: Don't kill him. Humiliate him.
Finally, I returned to Sarah's cell. I spent another 100 DP to upgrade it. The cold stone floor was replaced by plush, deep-purple carpets. A massive bed with silk sheets manifested in the center, and the walls were lined with enchanted mirrors—mirrors that didn't just reflect the room, but amplified the "truth" of the person looking into them.
I stepped into her new quarters. Sarah was sprawled on the bed, her tunic discarded on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her thin linen chemise. The Arousal Mist from the hallway had leaked into the room, and she was breathing it in with greedy, shallow gulps.
"Julian..." she whispered, her voice a sultry, melodic plea. She looked at herself in the mirrors, her eyes tracing the flush of her own skin, the way her nipples were hard and prominent against the thin fabric.
"How do you feel, Sarah?" I asked, standing at the foot of the bed.
"I feel... dirty," she whispered, her hand sliding down to the hem of her chemise. "But I want to be dirtier. Every time I try to remember Marcus's face, it just... dissolves. I try to think of our house, of our vows, but all I can see is the way you looked at me in the hall. Please... I can't think anymore. Just make the noise in my head stop."
[Loyalty: 25%]
[Perk Progress: Sex Slave nearly unlocked (70%)]
I leaned down, my hand brushing against her ankle. She jolted as if struck by lightning, her back arching off the silk. "Patience, Sarah," I said. "Your husband is almost here. I want him to see exactly how much you've changed before I finally give you what you're begging for."
I left her there, a prisoner of her own blooming desire, and headed to the entrance. My [Detection] map was screaming. A bright, aggressive red light was approaching the hollow tree. Marcus had arrived.