Mutual Conquest

Snowle was extremely fond of his agent. Lancer was calm and wise, and no matter what predicament he faced, he could come up with countless wicked plans to please his god. Snowle admired Lancer’s cold-blooded cruelty, and never told him an interesting truth: Lancer Claire wasn’t a vile death-row convict whom Snowle had kindly rescued while passing the execution grounds years ago. He was the last holy knight on English soil, still fighting evil even as filth threatened to consume him completely. But that was what made it fun, wasn’t it? Watching a knight of light serve him, an evil god, hand and foot after losing his memory. * Lancer loathed his boss. He was full of malicious whims and had a short temper. If he hadn’t been born with the good fortune to be an evil god, a troublemaker like him, always losing his cool and flying into a rage the moment something went wrong, wouldn’t last three episodes in a human work of fiction. Lancer watched his boss’s admiration and teasing with cool detachment, and never told him two interesting truths: First, he had finally recovered his memories. Second, he was going to kill the shelter of the world’s darkness, schemes, and strife, the source of countless lifetimes of pleasure... No matter how many terrifying titles Snowle had, Lancer was going to kill him. * The chronicler, conducting an interview while writing without pause, asked, “...So how did you two end up in bed together?” One-on-one, mutual salvation, happy ending. The story uses dual perspectives for the sake of its narrative twists. The gong’s perspective dominates early on, while the shou’s takes over later. The main idea is that neither of them will let the other go: every pot has its matching lid. A preview of my next story Title: The Lovecraftian Detective Agency Is Under Construction Blurb: Being a mercenary is hard physical work. After working his way to the top, Lost finally decided to go straight, find a way out, and go home to open an ordinary detective agency and take life easy. The detective’s goal was simple. The cases weren’t. The first day the agency opened. A Mexican gang boss was trapped on his own farm, with no word from him. All the men sent to rescue him went in and never came back out. Lost crossed an entire mountain to reach the farm. He went inside, slung the man over his back, and walked out as calmly as could be. The gang boss, jolted awake: “?? Why... Can’t you feel your limbs going numb? Your life being drained away? You... You’re making our Mexican gang look weak!” Half a month after opening. A wealthy businessman’s son was stranded on an island. A huge reward brought detectives, professors, and all sorts of people from every walk of life flocking to the island. In the middle of the night, everyone was controlled by strange murmurs in their dreams. Lost alone took a swig of liquor and carried on playing cards with his younger brother. “Airplane.” His brother, who got along terribly with him, pressed a hand to his forehead in exasperation. “Are you deaf?!” The Nth month after opening. For certain reasons, the Royal Magic Association and Lost were temporarily working together to protect the queen. The chief mage pored over a massive tome, frowning. “Don’t bother me, barbarian. I’m reconstructing an extremely ancient magic circle...” Lost hadn’t planned to talk to the mage either, but his younger brother had wandered into the Royal Library and gotten completely absorbed in it. So Lost sat in the only wooden chair behind the mage, waiting for one second, then two... Ten seconds later, having carefully scanned all the manuscripts spread across the table, Lost spoke up. “Take a look at this spot...” Lost grabbed a ballpoint pen and filled something in. The magic circle on the floor suddenly lit up! The chief mage: “...??” Damn it! Is there anything you’re not good at? Are you even human?! Of course Lost did have a weakness. His one weakness was that he didn’t know how to repair his relationship with his younger brother. When he finally escaped his former “company,” he woke up in a holding cell with nothing to his name. The good news: he had a younger brother, supposedly a big-shot banker in recent years, who was about to pay for his bail. The bad news: he hadn’t spoken to his brother in centuries, and their relationship was absolutely terrible. The iron-barred door clanged open. His younger brother walked into the cell in a suit, adjusting his leather gloves like a refined scoundrel. He looked up and said, “First: Why aren’t you dead yet?” “Second: What are you trying to pull this time?” Lost didn’t dare imagine that this little brat had once been in love with him. A few things before you read: Those who read my previous story, Lovecraftian Tune, Charm Overflow, can probably guess why the protagonist is a max-level human. This story has only one fundamental rule that cannot be broken: [Lovecraftian entities can only be sealed or killed by beings of equal or higher rank]. Couple: banker younger brother, repressed gong × former mercenary older brother, shou. Happy ending, not related by blood. If you’re interested, feel free to add it to your favorites! Theme: I would burn all my fuel for the sake of the light.