[The first five thousand words are omitted.]

...

...

"Despicable! Despicable! I will never... How dare you use such a sneaky trick!"

After the spring twilight passed, Moen directed his weak protest toward Ann.

However, his tone of protest carried an evident lack of conviction, perhaps due to his exhaustion after just being thoroughly drained, or possibly because his current ** state made it hard to maintain any semblance of pride.

"At moments like this, the young master acts like a child," Ann remarked.

Her cheeks still carried traces of the earlier blush as she slowly dressed herself without any intention of avoiding Moen's gaze. Moen stared at her — or more accurately, at her body — as if trying to salvage some degree of dignity.

But Ann showed no hint of shyness. Instead, she occasionally cast him teasing glances, as though silently asking: Shall we do it again, young master?

Moen couldn't help but feel a surge of toothache. He glanced at a certain crimson trace on the ground, quietly grumbling to himself. Why are all these women so... relentless?

After finishing her business, Celicia could still go on to spar with others. Ann, on the other hand, seemed utterly unfazed, as though she could take on Moen for another three hundred rounds without breaking a sweat.

Meanwhile, Moen looked utterly drained and temporarily incapable of pulling himself together.

Could it be my problem?

No, that couldn’t be! He distinctly recalled it lasting over two hours just now. And with the drug, Moon was feeling more fierce than ever!

“Turns out it's because I’m still too weak. If I don’t get stronger, I’ll be doomed to a life of submission under these terrifying women!”

Moen clenched his teeth silently, once again reaffirming the urgency of obtaining his power.

"It’s getting late. Young master, why don’t you rest for a while?"

Ann casually picked up Moen’s discarded clothes, her demeanor seamlessly shifting back into that of a dutiful maid. She bowed respectfully to Moen like before.

"I have some matters to take care of for now, so I'll excuse myself."

"Wait!" Moen cried out in alarm to stop Ann's leaving.

"You can leave, but at least give me back my clothes!"

"Hm?" Ann tilted her head, seeming genuinely puzzled by his demand.

"Is there really any need for you, young master, to wear clothes right now?"

"Of course there is! I’m a living, breathing person! People ought to wear clothes, don’t they?!"

"Oh? Has the young master perhaps forgotten the agreement we made earlier?"

"Agreeme—"

"Yes, the agreement," Ann said, lowering her gaze and flashing a captivating smile. Yet, behind her smile, Moen could feel an ominous and bone-chilling darkness lurking. It was as though some unfathomable entity hid beneath the surface, watching him intently.

"Young master, you are my possession now," Ann whispered softly. "Which means that I have full control over everything about you, including whether or not you should wear clothes at a given time.

"And my decision is...

"That there’s absolutely no need for you to wear clothes, young master. After all, besides me, there is no one else here.

"Moreover, young master, it seems you will be staying here for quite a long while."

"..."

Though Moen didn’t feel physically cold, his teeth chattered uncontrollably as he trembled under Ann’s gaze. Her expression somehow felt far more terrifying than the bloodthirsty stare of a beast.

"Now then, take a good rest, young master. Once I’ve handled my business, I’ll come back to play with you~"

After ruffling his hair affectionately, Ann left the room with Moen’s clothes in hand.

Moen watched her figure gradually fade into the shadows.

...

"She’s gone, right?"

"..."

...

"Ann? Are you still there?"

"..."

"...Hello? Anyone's here?"

"..."

"I know you haven’t left yet! Stop it!"

"..."

The silence within the darkness was deafening.

Only after confirming that Ann had indeed left did Moen release a long, relieved sigh.

His expression then changed, becoming fiercely determined:

"What do you mean I’m your possession? I don’t remember I've promised to something like that at all!"

Hmm...

There was a vague recollection — a whisper of some agreement made under the influence of the drug.

But that didn’t count! No way!

Can words spoken in the heat of passion truly be taken seriously?

And even if my lower half made certain choices earlier, what does that have to do with what my brain and upper-half now?

Nothing at all!

So as for that part about "never leaving Ann," Moen will just pretend he never heard it.

In any case, his priority right now was to escape this place.

He had no desire to live like a doll, imprisoned by Ann for the rest of his life!

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Moen muttered, steeling himself.

...

Once he calmed his mind, Moen finally took a good look around himself.

It seemed to be a basement.

The walls and floor were smooth and formed into a perfect square. A single dim oil lamp hung on the ceiling, providing faint illumination.

In front of Moen was a cold, iron-barred gate. The bars were as thick as his wrist, far beyond what Moen’s scrawny arms or legs could hope to break.

The gate appeared to be the only exit. As Ann left earlier, she had thoughtfully secured it with a lock larger than Moen’s fist.

"Damn it, is all this really necessary when I’m already shackled?" Moen muttered bitterly.

As for the rest of the room...

Moen ran his hand along the wall and scraped his foot across the floor beneath him. A chilling realization came over him.

Metal!

The walls and floor of this basement were made entirely of metal!

In other words, Ann had gone to great lengths to construct a completely metal cage for Moen to ensure he had absolutely no chance to escape!

There was no way he could emulate that famous movie escape by digging a tunnel out of here.

The only visible alternative was...

Moen tilted his head upward, noticing a vent-like opening in the far corner of the ceiling.

However, the opening was so small that the only thing that might fit through would be a rat from the sewer.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

Despair began creeping into Moen’s heart.

A secret room reinforced entirely by metal. No guards in sight. No escape routes offered.

The only exit was the iron-barred gate, which Ann had securely locked.

And as someone served by Ann for so long, Moen knew exactly how meticulous and competent she was in everything she did.

Ann knew Moen’s capabilities and habits. She knew that he couldn’t perform magic and that aside from being a mere first-tier warrior, he was utterly powerless.

So instead of using any sort of magical locks or restraints, Ann had simply bolstered the existing barriers to a point where Moen couldn’t so much as budge them.

It could be said that Ann had preemptively plugged any potential loopholes, thoroughly crushing Moen’s escape plan before it could even form.

Moen couldn’t even figure out how to free himself from the shackles binding his hands!

"Is it true that I destined to spend the rest of my life here as Ann’s possession?"