[BOOK II] Chapter XXVI: People Are Just Too Horny [10]

Previously 

When the last bits of illusion faded away, what stood before the two idiots was a woman who had fought in a certain war many years ago, and had thus retired to her hometown, working as a receptionist to oversee the next generation of Adventurers. 

“Platinum badge. . ,” Brutus’s face was now completely white.

Dhog on the other hand, had a look of contemplation before her eyes turned wide. Her head whipped around so fast a normal human would have broken their neck, as she turned to the picture of a woman hung most high on the leaderboard of Adventurers, with a similar shiny platinum badge under her name and picture. 

“The Platinum Illusionist,” Dhog whispered in terror. “Illya Goodfield.”

The woman in question simply scratched her head of silver hair-turned gray, and clicked her tongue. She was more annoyed that she had to unveil her illusion, than she was proud that she was recognised. 

“Why do you children always have to be such a pain in the arse?”

Simultaneously, gulps rang around the room as the veterans were doing anything but looking at the middle-aged woman in golden-white robes. Looks like a lot of people were rowdy in their youth. 

Illya tilted her head to the side, and nodded at the little girl. “Where do you hail from, stinky one?”

When the little girl didn’t answer, Illya asked another question after reappearing in front of the little girl in rags, her posture knelt down.  “. .What’s your name?”

I raised an eyebrow. The little flash movement might have looked like teleportation to the common Adventurer but with my enhanced eyes, I saw that it was just a little trick, an illusion so well-crafted it looked real to which I secretly applauded, in my head. Every gamer knew illusions were an element best suited to support, but when practiced and refined to the top, illusions became reality. 

Was Illya’s illusions to that level? No, but I knew she would reach that level. 

Dhog however did not possess my knowledge of the Platinum Illusionist, and decided that her ego was much more important than her life. 

“What do you think you’re doing with another person’s slave?!” Dhog turned around, and yelled in anger. Only this time, she seemed more like a dog bitching rather than a lion roaring. 

Illya didn’t even bother to respond to the angry orc-faced woman. She only asked the little girl another question. “What did they do to you?”

I saw a flash of anger in Illya’s smoky gray eyes and knew if she ever found out who did this to such a small babe, she would kill them in the worst way possible. After all, mental torture was far worse than physical. And a high-level illusionist like Illya? You literally wouldn’t know what hit you.

Slowly and gently, Illya checked the little girl around for any injury that seemed life-threatening and sighed when the little girl didn’t even so much as wince when an injury was touched. 

Dhog, on the other hand, had gone hysterical. If she got any redder, her head would literally pop like a can of tomatoes. 

Ego had overtaken will, and anger had overtaken thought. Dhog made the worst move she could possibly have made in this instant just like in the game. 

She took out her long, twin daggers and flashed before Illya’s crouched form. “Don’t ignore me!” Her twin daggers gleamed green, before striking downwards to which Dhog expected a fountain of blood to spurt forth. 

A fountain of blood did spurt forth. Dhog was smug at that, her ego satisfied, until her arms felt a little bit empty. 

She looked back at her arms, or the lack-there-of and screamed louder than a wife-in-labour. 

“What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?!”

“Oh quiet down,” Illya said, now standing up to turn to the screaming orc-faced woman. Oh, I think she might even be taller than Dhog. Behind Illya, one could see that the little girl dressed in rags and scars was completely asleep in peace, perhaps for the first time in a while. 

I watched as Illya had a look of annoyance, as if she was thinking a simple dismemberment of arms wasn’t cause for such screaming. Oh right, Brutus had already pissed his pants, and fainted in the corner of the room. 

“M-My arms?!” Dhog rolled around, splattering her blood all over the clean room. “My fucking arms ain’t there anymore!”

“Stop rolling around. You’re getting my floor all bloodied!” Illya walked over to the hysterical woman, and proceeded to kick her right in the nuts. 

Before Dhog could yell again, Illya stuffed her leather heel in Dhog’s throat with such accuracy, she sliced off Dhog’s uvula. 

“Shush now, child,” Illya whispered, looking at Dhog’s crying, bloodied face. “I hate having to deal with idiots. I hate seeing babes bullied, and most importantly, I hate seeing idiots bullying little babes.”

She raised three fingers. “You broke all three.” 

“Please. . .It hurts. . .”

*****

WILLOW'S POV

Even I was surprised to see Illya completely stone-faced in front of someone sobbing in pain. A lot of pain, from the way Dhog’s mouth was frothing. But then, I wasn’t the average viewer and knew that it wasn’t really possible for Illya the Illusionist, or more specifically the receptionist and one of the guardian trio of this Adventurer Society (Branch) to actually hurt an adventurer, unless specifically given permission by the Branch Master.

I looked around the room, but it seems that only I was able to tell everything was a farce. 

The little girl’s eyes shone. No, I wasn’t the only one who knew. 

“This is your punishment,” Illya whispered. “You’re lucky it was on my shift that you decided to pull this shit on. If you were on one of the other three, you wouldn’t be able to get off this easily.”

Illya walked over to the moaning Dhog, and squatted before her. Then, she looked into Dhog’s eyes for an eternity before morphing back into her cute receptionist illusion. 

“Don’t be naughty again, okay?” The receptionist winked cutely, before tapping Dhog on her forehead, sending her to la-la-land in an instant. 

She turned to the crowd of adventurers quietly sipping their mugs, and eating their forks, doing anything to not be noticed by the scary illusionist. 

“Why’s everyone so quiet?” The receptionist giggled. “Relax, everyone! If you stay as good boys and girls, the scarrrry Illya won’t come out, okay?”

A collective nod could be seen throughout the room. The receptionist then whistled, calling over two humanoid-looking things, more specifically known as Homunculus (Inferior), who brought out a stretcher and everything for the two unconscious troublemakers. 

“Now then,” The receptionist turned to the bundle of lost hope behind her. “What do I do with you?”

She squatted before the little girl. “You didn’t answer any of my questions before, so there’s not much I can do with you.”

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