The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

After several agonizing seconds, Desmond's senses gradually returned to him. His first instinct was to command the system to assess his own body, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Lydia. Only when his system assured him that his body was unharmed, devoid of any strange liquid or poison, did his racing heart finally find a semblance of calm.

"What in the world are you up to?" Desmond's experiences with women in his previous world had not prepared him for such close proximity to a woman in this strange new reality. Despite the fact that he held her captive, she brazenly planted a kiss on his lips, seemingly unfazed by their dire circumstances.

Remaining seated in his weathered wooden chair, Desmond subtly increased the distance between them.

A thunderous boom reverberated through the room, jolting them both as wooden poles erupted from the floor below, forming a towering prison that entrapped Lydia within its confines. Above them, the ceiling bristled with countless menacing spikes, suspended and poised to descend at any moment, a makeshift solution Desmond had concocted to both prevent her escape and prey on her psyche.

Oddly enough, Lydia displayed minimal surprise at her newfound imprisonment, her initial startle swiftly giving way to a seductive smile as she delicately touched her reddened lips with a flushed cheek.

"Why do you inquire?" Lydia's voice dripped with flirtation as she crossed her legs, her alabaster skin tantalizingly exposed through the loosening fabric of her clothing. Leaning provocatively against the imposing wooden bars, she toyed with Desmond's senses, her very presence a potent allure.

"You think this will hold me captive?" Her fingers grazed the wooden pole, and an uncanny phenomenon ensued. The once sturdy barrier, intended to keep her confined, developed a gaping hole, a distinct separation between its upper and lower portions. If this trend persisted, it would only be a matter of time before she could dismantle the pole entirely.

Desmond's face twitched with a mix of apprehension and curiosity, his eyes trained on her nimble fingers. Yet, he could discern no discernible trace of energy at play.

Unsettling notifications flickered across his view, causing his expression to contort.

[Abnormality detected surrounding host's body!]

[A peculiar condition has affected the host's physical state!]

[Attempting to repel or resist this strange force...]

[Resistance Failed!]

[Activating Defense Mode...]

Cancel the activation! Desmond's internal voice pleaded desperately as his gaze remained fixated on her fingers. Alas, no visible signs of energy were present.

[The mysterious power has successfully infiltrated the host's body!]

[All host's stats have been reduced by -30, except Stamina!]

A resounding crash shattered the silence as the final notification materialized before him. Lydia, with apparent ease, shattered one of the wooden poles. The fragmented remnants transformed into ethereal orbs of white light, dissipating into nothingness.

With an air of superiority, she looked at Desmond, her fingers idly caressing the broken chain around her neck. "Could you please free me?" she purred. Yet, before Desmond could respond, the chain inexplicably split apart, disintegrating into tiny fragments.

The system sprang into action, initiating a scan of the enigmatic target.

[Scanning the target...]

[Scan Complete!]

[-Status-

Name: Lydia

Gender: Female

Age: 10 years

Race: Human

Class: 1st class Swordsman / 2nd class Witch (0th Witch)

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 44.06 (+30)

Strength: 37.35 (+30)

Agility: 38.35 (+30)

Stamina: 3.35]

Desmond's exclamation of surprise escaped his lips, his eyes widening at the revelation. She was essentially cheating, exploiting a sudden surge in power to absorb a portion of her enemy's strength while simultaneously weakening them.

Despite the presence of Custom Magic Crystals intended to restrain her energy and power, she seemed entirely unfazed. Her hands casually plucked the crystals from their positions and callously discarded them to the ground.

Closing the distance between them, she approached Desmond, seductively sliding one leg between his own, her body lowering until her gaze met his eye level.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Desmond's lips as her hand reached for his chin. However, he swiftly halted her advance by firmly grasping her delicate hand mid-air. He couldn't help but notice the softness of her skin and the warmth radiating from her body.

"You haven't answered my question," Desmond's voice remained calm as he rose, causing Lydia to take a step back. Releasing his grip on her hand, he pressed the hilt of his sword against her chest. "And what is your purpose for coming to my home?"

In that instant, her clothes tumbled to the floor, revealing two perfectly sculpted mounds with pink, pert nipples that tantalizingly jiggled. From an outsider's perspective, Lydia might have appeared as a vulnerable, beautiful woman in need of protection. Yet, based on her previous actions, even when his subordinates had surrounded her, they would have stood no chance.

Though Desmond found himself momentarily captivated by her allure, the sight of her unveiled body served as a reminder of caution. He couldn't forget the stories of countless mafias who had fallen prey to honey traps, only to meet their demise soon after.

Releasing his killing intent, Desmond unleashed the suppressed power of the black dragon, directing it toward her.

A flicker of surprise crossed Lydia's face as her upper body remained exposed, yet she displayed no signs of shyness. Instead of answering his inquiries, she narrowed her eyes and scrutinized Desmond's form.

As she observed his entire physique and noticed a well-defined muscle on his chest, coupled with the change in his expression, Lydia's smile widened. Stretching her hand forward, she proceeded despite the blood trickling from the minor puncture caused by Desmond's sword piercing her skin and staining the wooden floor.

Shielded by Desmond's protective spell, the heavy rain outside muffled their conversation, ensuring his maids guarding the premises remained oblivious to the unfolding situation. Not a single drop of water infiltrated the small wooden room or touched the clothes of his loyal staff.

"I am not your enemy," she murmured, her hand now caressing Desmond's cheeks. The seductive smile adorning her face transformed into one of warmth and tenderness, even as she felt the slight pain from the sword's piercing. A drop of sweat formed on her forehead, her complexion paling under the dual pressure, yet her smile remained steadfast, her gaze unwavering.

Witnessing the sincerity in her smile and feeling the warmth of her touch, Desmond's gaze softened, and he gradually loosened his grip.

With a swift flick, the sword retracted, causing the makeshift prison to dissipate into ethereal orbs. Desmond resumed his seat on the wooden chair, conjuring another chair for Lydia to sit across from him.

A broad grin graced her face at the sight, withdrawing her hand and gracefully settling into the offered seat.

In that moment, as Desmond beheld her for the first time, he couldn't resist the pull. Whether it was her irresistible charm or her intriguing demeanor, she was undeniably his type.

Furthermore, the way Lydia conducted herself and the genuine warmth she exuded invoked a deep sense of familiarity within Desmond, as if she had seamlessly become a part of his family. A nostalgic sigh escaped his lips, prompting him to send magical messages to his maids stationed outside.

"Laura, please join us," he transmitted through the magical communication.

"And Annie, kindly bring breakfast for two and ensure it is prepared," he continued, his words resonating with an air of anticipation.

In an instant, as Desmond issued his commands, a surge of power coursed through him, revitalizing his being and restoring his authority.