Looking between the three grinning women, I couldn't help but let out a long sigh.
[Here we go.]
"I appreciate the offer, ladies…" I said, keeping my voice perfectly level. "But I prefer to work solo. Good luck out there."
I tried to lean back and create some space, but the Amazonian shifted her weight, stepping even closer while a heavy, calloused hand clamped down over mine.
Her fingers closed over my knuckles with the unyielding pressure of a steel trap.
I immediately tried to smoothly slide my hand out from under hers, pulling back with a decent amount of force, but my arm didn't even budge.
I silently gritted my teeth, putting the actual weight of my newly calibrated Tier-1 stats into the pull, but it meant absolutely nothing. She didn't even sway. She was a solid wall of dense muscle, carrying a baseline of stats so far above my own that I might as well have been a child trying to arm-wrestle a professional bodybuilder.
[So this is what it feels like…] I thought, a cold, repulsive jolt of realization hitting my chest.
It was a stark, uncomfortable mirror of reality.
Back on Earth, I had seen this exact scenario play out a hundred times in high-end clubs. A physically weaker woman cornered at the bar by some massive, entitled guy who knew damn well she couldn't physically push him away, nor would she dare if she knew what's good for her.
The suffocating feeling of being trapped. The creeping, nauseating dread of realizing that words were completely useless when the other person held all the power.
It was a harsh wake-up call. For a decade, I had always been the one holding the cards in luxury hotel rooms. I controlled the pace, the intimacy, and the exit. But right now, I was just a weak, pretty piece of meat in a dive bar. I was the prey.
"Aw, don't be like that…" the Amazonian breathed close to me, her smelling heavily of sour ale and dried, salted meat. "Solo runs are dangerous for a pretty little you. We'll keep you safe. You just have to... compensate us a little for the protection."
The scaly lizardkin licked her lips, her slit eyes practically undressing me right there at the counter.
I didn't even bother arguing. Words weren't going to work; I needed a physical deterrent.
So, I focused on the new warmth sitting in my chest, pushing mana directly down my arm and into my trapped hand.
A bright, searing burst of standard orange fire instantly engulfed my fingers, flaring up violently to burn the Amazonian's palm.
And yet, she didn't even flinch.
Instead, her grin just widened while a sudden, heavy pressure radiated from her body, crashing down over the immediate area of the bar like a physical weight.
She sent a sharp, condensed pulse of her own mana directly into my hand, completely suffocating my flames in a fraction of a second.
My newly bought magic snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane.
[Well, shit.]
The display of raw power was sobering. She wasn't just stronger than me physically; her mana capacity dwarfed mine so thoroughly she could crush my spells on a whim without even trying.
The fire made her drop all pretenses, both playful and coercive. Her grip on my hand tightened painfully, her eyes darkening with blatant, ugly aggression.
"Oo, Feisty…" she growled, leaning in so close her scarred nose almost brushed mine. "I like feisty. But you're going to learn real quick that playing hard to get only works when you actually have the power to say no. Now, you're coming with us, and you're going to-"
"Let him go."
The voice was soft, but it carried a predatory weight that cut straight through the tavern noise and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.
The temperature in the immediate area seemed to plummet.
Even the Amazonian froze, the smug color draining from her face in an instant.
She slowly released my hand, taking a hurried, stumbling step back. The human rogue and the lizardkin were already shrinking away, their eyes wide and locked onto the floor with genuine fear.
I pulled my hand back, rubbing my bruised knuckles as I turned my head toward the interruption.
Two women stood a few feet away, completely commanding the space around them.
The one who spoke was a tall, heavily muscled werewolf.
Thick, fiery red hair cascaded down her back, matching the intense, burning crimson of her eyes. A pair of red wolf ears twitched atop her head, and a large, bushy tail swayed slowly behind her. She wore high-end leather armor that looked completely immaculate, hugging her curves perfectly without a single scratch on the hide.
Beside her stood a stark contrast. A petite human swordswoman with striking platinum hair cut neatly to her chin and piercing, emotionless blue eyes. She wore pristine silver plate armor, resting a hand casually on the pommel of a longsword strapped to her hip.
Neither of them had drawn a weapon. They didn't need to. The sheer, suffocating density of the aura rolling off them was enough to make my chest tight.
[Yeah... they aren't weak… far from it.] I noted, letting my shoulders relax.
I didn't need some magical System lens to gauge the massive gap in the food chain here. Common sense painted a very clear picture. If the Amazonian was a predator, these two were the apex monsters of the entire guild.
"We... we were just leaving," the Amazonian stammered, completely abandoning her tough-gal act. She shoved her two companions toward the door, scattering them like roaches when the tavern lights turned on.
While I let out a quiet breath, turning fully on my stool to face my rescuers. "Appreciate the save."
The werewolf didn't reply immediately. She stepped right into my personal space, her crimson eyes locking onto mine. Her nose twitched once. Then twice.
Then suddenly, a deep, heavy flush spread across her cheeks. Her breathing visibly hitched, her red wolf ears flattening slightly against her head as she leaned in, taking a long, blatant sniff of the air right next to my neck. My passive Incubus's Scent was hitting her enhanced canine senses like a freight train.
"You smell..." she murmured, her voice dropping a full octave, "...delicious."
[Oh, come on…! Chivalry truly is dead!]