Here is the English translation of the provided text, adhering to the given glossaries and maintaining the original tone and style:
—
Episode 196
Dark Star Necromancer Hassan
196 ? Dark Star Necromancer Hassan #7
Creak.
After closing the door to the inn room, I dragged a chair from the corner and carelessly perched on it. Then, I spoke to Antiope, who was hesitantly trying to hide her body from me.
“Let me see you better.”
“W-What…?”
“You said you wanted my approval, didn’t you? Then you shouldn’t be covering yourself with your hands—you should make sure every part is clearly visible.”
Even by my own standards, it was a fairly convincing argument. Perhaps the experience of telling countless lies lately had helped—my voice didn’t waver at all despite the boldness of my words.
Did my attitude work well on her?
Antiope’s indigo eyes, already flushed with shame and excitement, darted around nervously. Like a candle flickering in the wind.
Left, right—shaking intensely.
“But, um…”
Even after hearing my command, Antiope kept her palms pressed against her chest and groin, unsure what to do.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and remove what’s covering you. This is the last time I’ll say it. There won’t be a next time.”
There won’t be a next time.
I brought up the same threat I had used when intimidating her before.
“…Kgh.”
Antiope bit her lower lip, squirming as if she didn’t know what to do. Then, reluctantly, she lifted the hand covering her chest.
Jiggle—
Her ample br*asts bounced resiliently. Smaller than Hippolyte’s but slightly larger than Luna’s—plump and full.
What size were they? F? G? I wasn’t sure.
Their teardrop shape was beautiful, and though her areolas were somewhat large, their clean pink hue was striking. Truly, they were lovely.
“Hnggh…!”
The way her face burned red as she exposed herself to me, wrestling with her emotions, was also quite appealing.
Honestly, I was so excited that the back of my neck felt like it was on fire, and my c*ck was straining hard enough to tear through my pants.
But I hid my excitement and spoke in a cold, measured tone.
“What are you doing? Remove everything covering you.”
I ordered her to take her hand away from her groin.
Some might see this as nothing more than an act driven by lust—and they’d be half right. But there was also a deeper meaning.
Right now, I was testing Antiope’s loyalty—whether she would betray me or not—while also punishing her for tormenting me and Luna.
Yes, this was discipline.
In this cramped, shabby inn room, I wasn’t some clumsy Bronze Tier adventurer—I was a vile villain reigning as the Lord of Hell.
And Antiope wasn’t a revered member of the Shrine Knights—she was nothing more than a holy warrior at my mercy, no different from a slave.
Acting was easier than I thought. I just had to mimic how Elpride treated me.
d*mn, who knew the experience of being Elpride’s slave would come in handy one day?
“Hurry up—”
As I pressed her, Antiope trembled noticeably, her psychological distress clear. Slowly, she lifted her right hand from her groin.
What was revealed were her indigo-hued pubic hairs. Neatly trimmed, they looked quite tidy.
Her hair had turned white, but that hair remained the same, huh?
Feeling a strange fascination, I was struck by a sense of omnipotence—I was dominating this woman’s emotions and actions.
“Hnggh…”
Of course, Antiope looked utterly miserable.
Her arms twitched helplessly, as if she wanted to cover herself but couldn’t due to my command.
“Stay still. No—come closer.”
Seizing the moment, I made her approach the chair I was sitting on.
Click, click—
Her greaves made sharp sounds as she slowly stepped toward me.
The closer she got, the stronger the pungent scent of tobacco became. Soon, she was near enough that I could reach out and touch her chest if I wanted.
I asked, “Why haven’t you taken off your shoes?”
“Th-That’s…”
Despite baring everything else, Antiope seemed unwilling to part with the last barrier covering her feet.
Probably due to the unique mindset of women in this world, who treasured their soles.
Even if I had become her master—no, her god—was this the one line she couldn’t cross?
Looking at it this way, those greaves might be her final line of defense—or perhaps her last shred of pride.
Daring to show pride before a god?
I couldn’t allow that.
“Antiope, Keeper of the Pictures. Remove your shoes.”
“Th-That’s… too much…”
“I won’t say it twice. Take them off.”
“…”
The tattooed woman, Antiope, clenched her eyes shut and furrowed her brows. Slowly, she bowed her head and finally reached for her feet.
Jiggle—
As her head and chest lowered, her heavy br*asts and white hair swayed downward. While I watched—
Clack, clack—
She removed both greaves and neatly placed them in the corner.
Now, aside from the crude tattoos on her body, Antiope had not a single thread covering her.
Nothing shielded her anymore.
Her pride, her defenses—completely dismantled.
“Hnggh…”
Fidget, fidget.
Her feet, as if trying to hide each other, wriggled restlessly.
It was almost unsettling to watch—she seemed mentally shattered.
Even more than when she exposed her chest or removed her hand from her groin, this seemed to distress her the most. It really drove home how women in this world felt about showing their feet to men.
Honestly, it was arousing. Her soles must be so soft.
Hah—
“Good. From now on, when you come to me for inspection, you’ll present yourself like this. Understood?”
“…”
Whether from overwhelming shame or sheer defiance, Antiope didn’t answer.
Daring to ignore my words?
This called for punishment.
Swipe—
Still seated, I reached out toward her thigh.
Slowly—agonizingly slowly—my hand approached. Antiope shuddered in fear, but she didn’t dare grab my wrist or cover herself.
Like a deer caught in a trap, she could only tremble.
Swipe—
My palm finally touched the inside of her thigh.
I deliberately stroked the soft, inner flesh. When I had tattooed her, I’d noticed how smooth and supple her skin was—firm yet yielding.
The kind of thighs you’d want to bury your face between.
Stroke, stroke—
“Haah, hnggh…”
I continued caressing her inner thigh, careful not to venture too close to her groin.
Though my lust-filled mind screamed at me to touch the slight swell between her legs, a truly charismatic villain wouldn’t crudely indulge his desires.
So I resisted, deliberately keeping my touch chaste as I spoke.
“Answer my questions properly. Every time you fail, my hand will move higher. Understood?”
“…”
Again, Antiope stayed silent—whether out of pride or defiance.
“I told you to answer. Don’t test my patience.”
Annoyed, I slid my hand about five centimeters upward.
As my palm neared her groin, Antiope panicked.
“Hnggh, y-yes…!”
“Good. Then tell me—how have you been lately? You mentioned your comrades are in this city. Did you hide the fact that you’ve become my holy warrior?”
“Y-Yes! I—I often change my outerwear and hairstyle, so… n-no one suspected anything…!”
“But your sister, Hippolyte, seems suspicious of me.”
“M-My sister…?”
“Yes. If she asks about me, say you know nothing. Got it? Actually, since she’s a promising warrior, tell her to ease up on her training.”
“…Yes.”
“Good. Since you answered well, I’ll reward you.”
I lowered my hand about three centimeters away from her groin. Antiope trembled as if relieved.
“Keeper of the Pictures. When given a reward, you should say ‘thank you.’”
“…Thank… you…”
“Next question. You said there’s another Shrine Knight in this city. Tell me everything you know about them.”
“Wh-Why would you need to ask? If you’re truly a great god, Hassan-nim, you’d already know…”
Her voice dripped with suspicion. A capable woman like her couldn’t ignore the absurdity of this situation.
It was as if she was brandishing a hidden dagger at me.
Such rebellion couldn’t be tolerated.
“Who told you to talk back? That’s not the answer I want. Punishment.”
Swipe—
In one swift motion, I slid my hand up until it nearly touched her p*ssy. My fingertip brushed against her plump labia—teasingly close, maddeningly so.
She seemed just as affected.
“S-Sorry… I’m sorry…!”
Her desperate apology made me wonder—what the hell am I even doing?
Outside this inn, I was just a Bronze Tier adventurer who couldn’t even meet her eyes, let alone stand beside her as an equal.
But inside this room, I felt like someone truly significant.
Just a few wooden planks, and the power dynamic flips completely.
But conversely, those planks were all that shielded the truth. If they broke, everything would be exposed—and my head would be next.
So I needed to solidify this relationship further. I racked my brain desperately.
“I’m asking you things I already know to test you. You’ll serve me in many ways, so I need to know if you’re useful or not.”
“That…”
“Antiope, Keeper of the Pictures. Are you claiming to be useless? Crushing you and turning you into an obedient, useful skeleton soldier would be easy for me. Think carefully.”
“Is that so…”
“Fine, I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me about the Shrine Knight in this city.”
“A-About that man, I really don’t know much—”
“What?”
I scowled, and Antiope panicked.
“Th-The Shrine Knights are elite warriors gathered from across the kingdom! We don’t interact much outside duty…!”
“So you’re saying you know nothing?”
Swipe—
My hand crept dangerously close to her p*ssy.
“Hyaaah—!”
Unable to take it anymore, she clamped her thighs together, trapping my hand.
The soft flesh pressed against my palm and the back of my hand—it felt incredible. How good would it feel to bury my face—or something else—between them?
Though I enjoyed it, I feigned anger.
“You dare block my hand?”
I had resisted Elpride’s whippings many times before.
Whippings. Trouble.
You little—!
Back then, Elpride would only grow angrier and strike harder. Resisting punishment only added to the crime.
“…I-I’ll talk! I’ll talk—!”
But Antiope’s tearful, choked voice made my anger fade. If she cried, my resolve might weaken—and that could expose me.
Which would put me in even greater danger.
“Fine. Speak.”
I furrowed my brows, pretending to grant her a final chance.
“W-Well…”
Panting heavily, Antiope stammered out her words.
“His—his name is Vice Vein. Other than being a follower of Bacchus, not much is known—”
“That’s all? I’m sure you can tell me more.”
“G-Goblins! I heard he’s investigating goblins! Goblins!”
As if under extreme duress, Antiope finally blurted it out.
Vice Vein, follower of Bacchus—investigating goblins.
A useful piece of information.
If Hippolyte was right, were the Shrine Knights personally looking into the so-called Goblin King?
“Hng… D-Did I answer enough…?”
Antiope looked up at me with teary eyes.
Her trembling form, thighs still clamped together, looked pitiful. Did she really hate being touched there that much? Of course she would.
“Fine. One last question.”
“L-Last…?”
She gulped audibly—so nervous I could hear it.
I’d never heard someone swallow so loudly before. Strange.
But my mind was already set on the final question.
Calmly, I asked:
“What’s thirty-five hundred multiplied by eighty-two hundred?”
“Wh-What!?”
Her voice shook in utter confusion. I scowled.
“Wrong, Keeper of the Pictures. Punishment.”
“Ahh—!!”
—
[Author’s Note]
Thank you, Kadeom-nim!!! Ahaha-nim!!! Caffuccino-nim!!! Sirak-nim!!! PotatoServer-nim!!! And all who sent support coupons!!! Thanks to you, July has been truly bountiful T_T…
Your comments and recommendations are also deeply appreciated…!!!
