Chapter 3 Sleeping with the Final Boss？

"Wait!"

I hurried after the boss. "I'm not sleeping in that filthy servants' room!"

He ignored me and continued floating toward the stairs.

"Come on, this is your mansion, right? You must have your own bedroom." I quickened my pace to keep up with him. "How about we share a bed?"

The black mist around his shoulders gave a sudden twitch, and he immediately picked up speed.

Seriously? I'd asked him to fuck me to death less than an hour ago. Sharing a bed was practically a downgrade.

"Hey, don't ignore me!" I called after him. "You promised to grant my wish, remember? Breathless, weak knees, eyes rolling back—"

"I never agreed to that."

His voice cut through mine so abruptly that I nearly stumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I never agreed."

The nerve!

"Isn't this dungeon literally called The Wish? Aren't you supposed to grant everyone's wishes?" I demanded. "Everyone else gets an 'As you wish,' and I get rejected? That's discrimination!"

He stared at me without a word.

"Unbelievable. I want to speak to your manager."

After a long silence, he let out what sounded suspiciously like a sigh.

"...Fine. Follow me."

Ha! Victory.

After several turns through the mansion, he opened the door to an enormous bedroom.

Now this was what I was talking about.

A king-sized bed stood in the center, covered in soft white sheets. The room was spacious and beautifully furnished, with a private bathroom and a chandelier.

I threw myself onto the mattress and stretched out with a satisfied groan. "Oh, thank God. My legs are killing me." I rolled onto my back and held out one foot. "Hey, handsome, how about a massage?"

The boss gave me a brief glance before turning away.

Fine. Be that way.

"By the way, what's your name?" I asked, propping myself up on one elbow. "I can't keep calling you 'Boss' forever."

"That's none of your concern. You're a player. Your only concern should be clearing this dungeon."

"Okay, sweetie."

No response.

"Baby? Darling? Hubby?"

The black mist around his head stirred.

I smiled sweetly. "Daddy?"

"Lucian!" he snapped. "My name is Lucian Vale!"

Oh, he was definitely annoyed. Even without seeing his face, I could practically hear him grinding his teeth.

"Lucian," I repeated, savoring the name. "Nice. Very sexy. So, Lucian, about that bed-sharing arrangement—"

"Enough. Go to sleep."

He flicked his wrist, sending a ribbon of black mist straight toward me.

"Wait, what are you—"

Everything went dark.

The bastard had literally switched me off.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of someone screaming.

I sat up, blinking in confusion. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. Then the events of the previous night came rushing back—the death game, the mansion, and the ridiculously handsome supernatural asshole who'd knocked me unconscious before I could finish flirting with him.

Lucian was nowhere to be seen.

I hurried through a quick wash and followed the screams downstairs, where the remaining players had gathered in the living room.

There was a body on the floor.

An old man's body.

His hair was completely white, his face covered in deep wrinkles. He looked at least eighty, possibly older. Yet something about his features seemed strangely familiar.

I scanned the room, counting the faces around me.

Everyone was here.

Everyone except the middle-aged man who'd suggested dying of old age.

The red-haired woman stepped forward, her expression grim. "I've already checked. The body belongs to the man who made the first wish yesterday."

"What? That's impossible!" someone protested. "He was only in his forties! That man looks eighty!"

The woman sighed. "Think about what we wished for yesterday. We asked to die peacefully of old age, without illness or suffering."

She gestured toward the corpse.

"Isn't that exactly what happened to him?"

A heavy silence settled over the room.

The others exchanged horrified glances as the meaning of her words sank in. Yesterday, they'd been congratulating themselves for finding a loophole. They'd assumed that by choosing old age, they could force the boss to let them live for decades.

Instead, the boss had simply skipped those decades altogether.

No sickness. No suffering. Just instant old age, followed by death.

I glanced at the portraits hanging on the wall. Almost every photograph had the same wish written beneath it.

And now one of those wishes had come true.

Apparently, the boss's idea of granting a wish was considerably less generous than the players had hoped.

Above our heads, the live chat erupted.

[LIVE CHAT: HAHAHA! My favorite part! Watching arrogant players realize how screwed they are.]

[LIVE CHAT: Serves them right. They thought they could outsmart an SSS-rank boss with a loophole that's been tried a hundred times.]

[LIVE CHAT: Wait, didn't one girl choose something different? What did she wish for? My screen went black right when she was talking.]

[LIVE CHAT: Same! I thought it was just my connection.]

[LIVE CHAT: Mine too!]

[LIVE CHAT: Why did so many of us get a black screen?]

[LIVE CHAT: Maybe she made the one correct wish, so the broadcast got censored? HOLY SHIT. Is someone actually going to clear an SSS-rank dungeon?!]

[LIVE CHAT: You people always jump to conclusions. I looked her up—she's a complete newbie. And that delicate little thing? I could knock her flat with one punch. Expecting her to clear a top-tier dungeon is a fucking joke.]