That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

It wasn’t just Lisanna wanting his attention; Mirajane had subtly chimed in, asking for his "guidance" with a look that promised she hadn’t forgotten her earlier humiliation. Naturally, Elfman and the bruised and battered members of the Dark Guild, who had finally been permitted inside, stood awkwardly in the periphery.

Finn leaned back in his leather chair, taking a slow sip of his bitter coffee as he fell into deep thought. Should he actually help them?

Honestly, there was absolutely zero benefit. Their magic was practically worthless to him; with the Manager integrated into his mind, he could flawlessly replicate and optimize their spells in seconds. The only actual value they possessed was physical labor.

Hands... or maybe tentacles, Finn mused.

If there was something he desperately needed right now, it was extra help to handle the sheer volume of his expanding power. He had never seriously considered taking over an octopus- or kraken-type beast, mostly because it lacked aesthetic appeal. Then again... considering the wildly depraved, mind-melting things he could do to Flare, Bisca, or any other woman in his bed with a half-dozen slick, prehensile tentacles, it was something that... he shouldn’t do.

Yeah, let’s not do it.

Shaking his head to clear the filthy image, Finn reflected on his current lifestyle. As his political power grew, there was a strict limit to how much he could physically handle. Before acquiring his unique abilities and the Manager, he had genuinely worried about burning out.

But power, money, and absolute authority were intoxicating. They were so deeply addictive that he often forgot to rest. In fact, if he completely ignored his desk work and Council duties, his only "breaks" consisted of either casually dismantling the Reborn Oracion Seis or completely draining the stamina of the voluptuous women who submitted to him.

What a sad, exhausting life, Finn thought with a heavy dose of irony.

Thanks to the Manager and his multiversal connection, he could automate the heavy lifting and steer his empire from the shadows. The business world was entirely predictable once you held all the cards. The only unpredictable variables were the humans themselves—like Fairy Tail. Knowing they were drowning in millions of Jewels of debt, instead of buckling down to pay it off, they sank even deeper, blowing their cash on booze and chaotic coping mechanisms.

Finn’s gaze drifted over the women currently occupying his kitchen.

Mirajane was watching him with a smoldering intensity, clearly aware of exactly how busy he was. Lisanna, looking ridiculously cute and lewdly busty in her tight clothes, clearly lacked the sheer magical capacity to grow significantly stronger without serious, grueling effort. As for Elfman? The meathead would just blindly follow his sisters.

"If you want me to train you, then you might as well work for me," Finn finally announced, setting his mug down.

"Hah?" Cana blinked, adjusting her bikini top.

"Instead of just loitering around my mansion and drinking my water, you should do something practical. Like fighting," Finn stated, his dark eyes locking onto Cana, Mirajane, and Elfman. He deliberately excluded Lisanna; she was his personal maid, and he preferred her safely confined to his property. "There are countless towns in Fiore plagued by rogue dark guilds, syndicates, and mafias. If you want real combat training, go hunt them down, seize their assets, and make me money. What do you think?"

"..."

Cana, Elfman, and Mirajane stared at him, completely speechless at the sudden mercenary contract.

Finn didn’t wait for their answer. He turned his cold gaze to the battered Reborn Oracion Seis. "As for you four—Macbeth, Erik, Sawyer, and Erigor. You start work immediately. You don’t have the right to say no. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you just enough to survive."

The four former dark mages sweated nervously, but they nodded in terrified unison. It was undeniably better to stay on Finn’s good side.

"Umm...."

A weak, breathy voice broke the tension. Sorano slowly raised a trembling hand. "What... what about me?"

Finn’s eyes dragged over her. She looked utterly pathetic, yet incredibly arousing. Her torn, sweat-slicked white dress barely clung to her heavy breasts, the fabric practically transparent. "Your life force is still low. If you leave my place, your body will dry up, and you’ll die. But, as long as you return to my house every single night to sleep, you’ll survive."

"...Can I just stay here permanently?" Sorano pleaded softly.

She knew exactly how dangerous it was to remain completely at the mercy of a known pervert like Finn. With her lush, premium body completely exposed, she knew he would inevitably be tempted to devour her. But honestly? Submitting to him in bed was infinitely better than being treated like cannon fodder on the front lines.

"And what exactly can you do around the house?" Finn asked, not giving an inch.

"Er..." Sorano squirmed, her thick thighs rubbing together nervously. "I can... clean? Or cook...? Well... I’m actually really good at spending money."

"...."

The entire room facepalmed internally.

"But I can learn!" Sorano added quickly, her chest heaving. She was absolutely desperate. Without her life force, using Angel Magic was suicide. The only way she felt her body slowly repairing itself was by bathing in the ambient holy aura Finn passively emitted.

Is there a faster way to absorb his energy? Sorano wondered, a deep flush spreading across her cheeks as her mind immediately jumped to the exchange of bodily fluids. Given his ravenous nature, she decided it was best to wait until they were more ’acquainted’ before offering that particular method of healing.

"Um... please, Master. Let Angel stay here," Macbeth suddenly interjected, bowing his head. "I don’t mind taking on her share of the physical labor."

Erik, stunned by Macbeth’s sudden chivalry, quickly raised his hand too. "Me too!"

"Me too!" Sawyer added.

"Me too," Erigor mumbled, terrified of being the odd man out.

"Fine," Finn murmured, his eyes narrowing dangerously at the four men, sending a collective, icy shiver down their spines.

"By the way, how much exactly are you willing to pay us for this work?" Cana suddenly demanded, leaning over the counter again.

Finn shifted his attention back to the busty Cana. He could practically see the symbol for Jewels flashing in her desperate eyes. He thought for a moment before raising his hands, gesturing to a specific, outrageously high number. "It depends on your efficiency. But you could easily make this much a month..."

"...."

Elfman, Cana, and Mirajane’s jaws dropped.

"Or, if you prefer," Finn added, "I can pay you directly in extremely rare, luxury vintage wines—"

"LET’S DO IT! I WILL TAKE THE WINE! I MEAN—I AM GOING TO TRAIN SO HARD!"

Cana shrieked, her massive breasts bouncing wildly as she slammed her hands on the counter, her addiction completely overriding any sense of caution.

Finn watched her celebrate, a satisfied smile touching his lips. It was a universal rule: when someone was born with exceptional talent, the gods usually cursed them with an equally crippling flaw. In Cana’s case, she possessed incredible magical potential, but her absolute, pathetic addiction to alcohol made her ridiculously easy to manipulate.

For the next few months leading up to the Grand Magic Games, Cana, Elfman, and the She-Devil Mirajane were officially locked to his leash.

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