Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

One could say that neither of them were ready for what awaited inside the Adventurer's Guild.

"We need five people in total to form a group?!"

Sylvaris's voice echoed across the guild hall like thunder, sharp and annoyed. He stood with both hands braced on the counter, towering over the petite girl behind it, who blinked up at him with a practiced, professional smile.

She couldn't have been older than twenty, maybe younger. Her long black hair was neatly tied with a ribbon, her large brown eyes warm and polite, her face doll-like with a softness that almost made him forget his frustration—almost. She wore the standard guild clerk uniform, which hugged her figure just enough to show she was cut from finer cloth than the common rabble.

Still, she didn't flinch under his glare.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said sweetly. "But party registration requires five members at minimum to be approved for outside-region expeditions. This is non-negotiable per Guild Regulation Book Two, subsection Fifty-seven."

Her tone was polite, her smile was perfect, but her eyes told another story entirely: No fear, no hesitation, just rule-bound determination... and a flicker of amusement.

She wasn't trying to upset him, in fact, she very much wanted to help; She just couldn't bend the rules for anyone.

...Though she might be willing to bend for him—but that's another story entirely.

Sylvaris stared at her, momentarily speechless. Not just from the bureaucratic hell he'd just walked into, but because he could already tell... This city was going to test every ounce of his patience. And every bit of his self-control.

"But if you're looking to complete your party," the receptionist continued cheerfully, "you might be in luck. Tomorrow, we're hosting a Solo Adventurer Gathering right here. It's designed for ungrouped adventurers to find new party members. And if you're lucky, you might pick up a strong vanguard or a skilled healer. Many of the local men are born warriors—"

"That's the problem," Sylvaris cut in, waving a hand dismissively.

"I'm not looking for men. My party will be women-only. And finding three more who'll actually agree to that... ugh, it'll take me forever." He sighed, leaning over the counter, frustration in his voice but mischief already creeping into his smile.

Then, without missing a beat, he tilted his head and looked her straight in the eye.

"Hey, you know... You look pretty strong yourself. How about you join my party?"

There was a glint in his eyes—something molten and magnetic; Not quite flirtation, not quite domination.

The kind of look that made women forget the rules. Forget common sense. Forget they were supposed to say no.

The receptionist blinked, her mouth parting slightly, the practiced guild smile faltering for just a moment. Her cheeks flushed with a soft pink, and she quickly looked away, pretending to shuffle papers that didn't need shuffling.

"I-I'm not an adventurer, sir," she said, voice a little too fast. "Just a desk clerk. And... I'm not allowed to form parties while working under the guild."

But her ears had turned red.

And she was still smiling.

"What a pity," Sylvaris murmured, his voice velvet-smooth as he leaned just a little closer over the polished wooden counter. "But rules are rules... I understand."

The receptionist relaxed slightly, nodding politely—but then his next words made her freeze.

"Then how about this—you can't join my party, but you can join me for dinner tonight, right? No regulations against that, are there?"

She blinked, flustered. "I… I don't think—"

He didn't let her finish.

"Just one meal. One evening. You look like the kind of woman who hasn't been properly appreciated in a long time..." His voice dropped lower, his eyes narrowing slightly as he smiled. "You've been sitting behind this desk, working hard every day, haven't you? All that stress. All that tension. You deserve a break. Some good wine. Good food. Maybe... good company."

Her cheeks flushed a deeper red, and she glanced down at her papers, trying and failing to maintain her composure. Her fingers fiddled with the edge of the clipboard, her lips parting just slightly, as if she was fighting the urge to say yes.

And then Sylvaris leaned in just an inch more.

"Besides..." he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, "if you ever change your mind about being in a party... you look like someone I'd love to fight beside."

Her knees almost buckled.

That's when Iselynne struck.

"Time for us to go." Her voice was cheerful, bright as morning sunlight—deceptively warm.

She wrapped her arm around Sylvaris's, smiling wide at the receptionist like they were old friends.

"We'll come back tomorrow, when the registration event starts. I'm so excited to see the guild in full swing."

But the receptionist felt it then.

Something cold.

A shiver slithered down her spine like a single drop of water sliding across bare skin. It wasn't fear. Not exactly. It was the instinctive chill that warned you when you were standing too close to something territorial.

And the source of that chill... was the ice-blue-haired girl smiling sweetly across the counter.

Sylvaris tried to resist the tug on his arm, his expression halfway between annoyed and amused. "Hey, I'm not done here."

But her grip was firm.

And against all odds... he lost.

He let himself be pulled away, still grinning, his golden eyes flicking back to the receptionist one last time.

"Another time, then," he said with a wink.

The girl stood behind the counter, still blushing, still breathless—unsure if she had just escaped danger... or missed an opportunity she'd regret forever.

"Sylvaris, this town sure is beautiful, right?" Iselynne said softly as they stepped into the golden dusk of Rosa. The lanterns above their heads flickered to life one by one, casting long shadows over cobblestone streets that glowed with the warmth of twilight. Music drifted in the distance—strings, flutes, laughter—and every breeze carried the scent of perfume, roasted meat, and spiced wine.

The city pulsed with life, with temptation, with stories just waiting to be written. "Ah? Yeah. I like it here," Sylvaris answered, but his mind was still inside the guild, replaying the image of the blushing receptionist—the way her lips parted just enough, how her breath caught when he leaned in.

She'd been close, so close to saying yes, and his body was still screaming for release. It had been far too long since he'd satisfied the beast, and the tension inside him was rising like a tide.

Then she said it.

"Would be a shame if it all burned down, right?" Her voice hadn't changed much in pitch, still light, still sweet, but there was something under it now—something cold, calm, final. Sylvaris stopped walking, not because he was shocked, but because he recognized the tone. The same way a beast knows when another predator is circling behind it.

Her smile didn't fade. Her steps didn't falter. But the weight of her presence shifted just slightly, and he could almost feel the ghost of frost trailing across his skin. The Yandere in her had just peeked out.

He blinked once. Then slowly exhaled. "...Oh shit," he said lazily, rubbing the back of his neck like a man trying to remember something he'd left behind.

"I think I forgot to turn the stove off," Sylvaris said casually, turning ever so slightly, as if preparing to head back toward the guild.

"You what?!" Iselynne's voice cracked like ice under pressure, her aura surging for just a second as she turned to him, eyes flashing with betrayal. This bastard—he dared to say that? Now, of all times? She could see it in his face. He was planning to slip back, to flirt with that slut behind the counter while she was still right here next to him. Her fingers twitched, dangerously close to casting something cold and permanent, her rage simmering just beneath the surface, a storm waiting to break loose.

But then he moved.

Sylvaris turned back toward her instead, and in one smooth motion, his hand rose and slid through her hair—those strands of glacial blue like silk beneath his fingers—before resting soft atop her head. He patted her slowly, gently, like a man petting a wild predator who had momentarily allowed itself to be tamed. His touch wasn't mocking. It was… Reassuring.

"It really would be a pity," he murmured, the sunset gleaming in his golden eyes, turning that arrogant smirk of his into something heartbreakingly warm, "Let's not burn such a beautiful place down, hmm?"

The moment stretched.

Iselynne blinked. And then… she melted. Just a little. Her fingers curled against her side instead of into a spell, her breath slowed, and though she said nothing, a small smile crept across her lips—one that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was sharp. Possessive. But for now, she'd let him live.

She didn't tighten her grip on his arm, didn't drag him away, but Sylvaris could feel the message clear as day. She wasn't just annoyed. She was claiming him. She was warning him, and maybe offering a little of herself in return.

As the two of them walked down the torch-lit streets of Rosa, the city's warm glow reflecting in every puddle and windowpane, Sylvaris couldn't stop the crooked grin that curved across his face.

He'd met many women. Fucked even more. But none of them had ever looked at him like that.

Not with possession. Not with danger. Not with quiet devotion curled up like a dagger behind the smile.

And god… he liked it.

I'm so lucky, he thought, eyes flicking toward her as she talked about the stars like they were new.

Finally met one…

God… I'm really into Yandere girls.