Hunting MILFs in a Trash Eroge

The truth about Lindsey's existence was something the demon world itself had never fully come to terms with.

Even among demons—where innate power determined everything—Lindsey stood as an anomaly that most preferred to ignore rather than acknowledge.

She had not awakened a normal class.

She had not even awakened a normal rare class.

Her class was technically classified as Rare, but its nature was anything but ordinary.

Unlike the standard Beast Tamer class—restricted to controlling a handful of monsters through established contracts—Lindsey's class carried an entirely different structure.

It allowed her to exert influence over large numbers of beasts simultaneously, something unheard of among low-physique races.

And that wasn't the most shocking part.

Upon her Awakening, she had immediately gained an innate skill, one that should have automatically elevated her classification into the realm of unique talents.

[Friend of Monsters].

It was a skill no demon had ever recorded, a skill that didn't bind her to monsters through force, dominance, or mana suppression like the typical taming arts.

Instead, it allowed her to manipulate the ambient mana in the air itself, subtly reshaping it into patterns that monsters instinctively responded to.

Those patterns soothed them.

Those patterns attracted them.

Those patterns made them see her not merely as harmless, but as a presence they were inexplicably fond of—a presence they owed a natural debt to.

To monsters, she became a being they felt compelled to protect, assist, and obey without hesitation.

It wasn't taming.

It wasn't coercion.

It was… affinity, forced into existence through the mana itself.

And that alone should have qualified her as a once-in-a-generation talent—especially since the ability appeared alongside her Awakening rather than being trained.

But for a reason no one could explain, her talent grade remained stamped and recorded as Rare, nothing more.

In the end, her rarity wasn't what the demons focused on.

What they focused on—what they used as the basis for dismissing her—was her race.

Bunny demons had always stood at the very bottom of the demonic hierarchy.

Their physiques were weak, their mana capacity low, and their combat ability meager compared to the powerful front-line demon species.

The demon world prized strength above all else; it had no room for the physically inferior.

And because of that, Lindsey had lived her entire life under the weight of casual disdain.

Her achievements didn't matter. Her Awakening didn't matter. Her unique skill didn't matter.

The fact that she could walk through a forest filled with violent, territorial monsters and emerge completely unharmed didn't matter.

To demons, a bunny demon was a bunny demon—fragile, soft, and unworthy of respect.

But Lindsey was the exception they refused to acknowledge.

Despite her race's reputation for mediocrity, she had awakened a rare-ranked class, and not just any rare class, but one that defied the boundaries placed upon her species.

Bunny demons normally awakened classes related to agility, mobility, or survival—never anything connected to large-scale beast manipulation.

Even with everything Lindsey possessed—her rare class, her abnormal awakening, her one-in-a-million skill—it changed absolutely nothing about her standing in the demon world.

Among demons, strength defined everything. It dictated respect, status, survival… and for races like hers, weakness dictated the opposite.

To the majority of demon society, bunny demons were little more than soft-bodied ornaments—fragile creatures whose purpose was entertainment, not combat.

They were treated as toys for amusement.

And Lindsey had lived under that reality every day of her life.

Her rare class—despite its potential—did nothing to change how she was viewed.

A bunny demon with a special awakening was still a bunny demon.

The stronger demons merely found her "more interesting" to torment. Even among the few who didn't hurt her outright, none offered guidance. None offered protection. None offered mentorship.

Classes involving taming or summoning were already looked down upon across most of demon society.

To demons, those who relied on beasts instead of their own claws and fists were cowards. Weaklings hiding behind animals.

And Lindsey's class, no matter how special it truly was, fell squarely into that despised category.

So coupling that with her race's weakness made her an immediate outcast—too rare to kill immediately, too weak to treat with dignity.

Her life had been a predictable cycle of survival, submission, and silence… until she met her husband.

He had been the only demon who ever treated her like a person.

He wasn't strong, not by demon standards, but he cared about her. He shielded her, stood by her, refused to treat her like prey.

And when they had their two children, Lindsey had felt, for a brief moment, that perhaps life could be more than pain.

But that fragile peace shattered years ago when he was killed—cut down in a meaningless conflict between demon factions.

His death wasn't honored, neither was it even investigated. He was simply gone, a casualty in a world where the strong trampled whoever was beneath them.

After that, Lindsey had no one left. She became a single mother with no power, no support, and no allies.

In the demon world, that was a death sentence.

To protect her children—her only reason to keep moving—she had been forced to kneel. Forced to obey whatever order was given. Forced to follow the commands of demons who saw her as disposable.

So when they ordered her to become part of the plan to infiltrate Earth, she didn't even have the option to disagree.

And the string of events that followed, were what led her to the exact moment she found herself in now.

Face-to-face with Damien.

And as he took in everything he had learned so far—her class, her situation, her forced involvement—his brows tightened in a hard frown.

He turned his head slightly, just enough for the crackling remnants of lightning still climbing his blade to illuminate his expression with a cold, sharp glow.

'A sad life…' Damien thought, his jaw tightening.' To be nothing but playthings for those of your own race.'

She had indeed tried harming his family even if she didn't know it, but he couldn't help but sympathize with her.