Cultivating Anthro CEO RPG Hero Harem Reincarnation In Another World - Chapter 111

The bridge was completely destroyed by the falling rubble when the cavern ceiling fully caved. And as the dust cleared, it was seen to have piled up to form an impassable mound of debris between the two split-off sections.

Vash was coughing from all the stirred dust, lying on his side on the ground mere inches away from the impact zone.

“Cindy-san,” he croaked, “you saved me!”

“New master,” she said, knelt beside him, cradling his head in her lap as she stroked the side of his face. “Kestrel will not serve mad pmaster like Akira, or Lorica, or even the Forbidden chieftains any longer.”

Vash looked up at her face: seeing that, despite her rugged “tribal” appearance, she exuded an incredible serene warmth through her gentle smile; with such innocence being expressed in the way her lips were slightly parted, exposing a charmingly enlarged pair of front teeth, as she brushed a strand of golden-brown hair that had fallen against her richly tanned face.

“Kestrel…is your name, isn’t it?” Vash asked in awe. “Your real name.”

She nodded, beaming. “Mhm!”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, new master.”

“No…don’t call me that. Just ‘Vash’ would be perfectly fine.”

“Okay, new master Vash.”

Vash groaned. “Well, we both made it out alive.” He glanced toward the tall mound of large, heavy stones, which served to block any view of whatever might lay upon its other side. “But what about the others?”

His gaze narrowed. ‘Akira!’

Meanwhile, on the other side of the destroyed bridge…

Zhao had covered his face with his arms at the time of the rocks falling, and wa0s now slowly peeking out to view the damages in front of him.

“Gods! The way is blocked!”

Akira was standing behind him, unmoved, a cold glare to his sharpened red eyes as Zhao proceeded to activate their [Bronze Body, Iron Sinew] technique for the strength to dig his fingers through the piles of large and heavy rocks, pulling them out and tossing them away over the side of the cliff.

“Please help, Akira!” he yelled. “We need to clear a path for the villagers to escape!”

Akira turned his back as though he hadn’t heard, though. Then, began striding away, through the tunnel leading further into the subterranean maze.

“Where are you going?” Zhao urged.

He was taking the reincarnated skeleton girl with him—pulling her along by the hand, while she still had a dazed look about her after what had just happened.

“Show me where my girls are,” he said. “You can deal with that later.”

Zhao sighed, furrowing his brow with a heavy breath. “Where will you go?” he asked, with a note of concern. “And did you really mean the things you said just now? Because, if you really were to try to establish your own rule in Seaspan, both the Cultivators and Stormfleeces will”—he gave a small laugh, at once sounding both amused and weary—”you haven’t seen beyond Seaspan’s borders yet, so you can’t possibly have any grasp on what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I have no intention of challenging the powers that be,” Akira returned, continuing with resolution in his steps down an ensuing flight of steps carved into the cavern rock, the walls lined with flickering torches. “Not directly.”

His curiosity piqued, Zhao trailed after him. “So, indirectly? But how…?”

“Through wealth and influence, gained by whatever means necessary,” Akira answered. “In another world, I was once the world’s richest, youngest, cutthroat playboy billionaire CEO; and here I will do it again: achieving such prominence that even the highest kings of Seaspan will have no choice but to recognize my authority.”

Zhao was rendered speechless, to hear such gall spoken by a man wearing naught but a [Roughspun Tunic]. And yet, he could sense a real confidence behind Akira’s words.

“Well, as it stands I have no nation to return to now,” Zhao said, stopping in his tracks. “I should like to follow you.”

Then Akira stopped, as well. Listening.

Zhao was grimacing, his head tilted down, clutching the [Maidé Ball] that contained Chunhua in his trembling hand. “Truth be told…I haven’t any ounce of love left for my country, after seeing how it’s transformed my dearest old friend.”

He lifted his intense gaze, meeting Akira’s as they half-turned to look at him.

“That is why…I wish to join you. After observing your ingenuity and courage firsthand, I believe that if anyone stands a chance at outmaneuvering both the corrupting Cultivator dominion AND the savage Stormfleeces”—he bowed his head—”it is you, Akira.”

Akira said nothing, at first—allowing a tense silence to fall between them as he appraised the former Cultivator lieutenant with a stern frown.

Then, cracking a satisfied smile, he wordlessly extended a hand toward them.

“I will accept you, Zhao. As, no doubt, your wealth of knowledge about Seaspan will prove useful to me.” He then paused, his expression returning to one of flat seriousness. “However, I will first require proof of your loyalty.”

“What is it that you ask from me, my Lord…?” Zhao asked warily.

“Any [Pocket Maid] in your possession, as well as every one that you catch in a [Maidé Ball] from this day forth,” Akira said. “In order to begin building a new nation, growing my harem will be your first number one priority, as my Lieutenant, while I begin the task of seeking out and establishing our streams of revenue.”

“But…” Zhao was hesitant, his expression distorted over having to make such an agonizing choice.

Just how much faith did he have in Akira?

Was it enough to give up his dearest childhood friend, and secret love? Enough to willingly condemn Chunhua to the life of a servile concubine: endlessly procreating, to serve Akira’s will?

What alternatives did he have? Other than wandering aimlessly, avoiding discovery for the rest of his days?

He had made this decision to defect for Chunghua’s sake, even though he knew—deep down—that the fondly remembered peace of their younger years, through all the hardships they faced as orphans, would never return.

‘Besides…she must surely despise me now,’ he pondered, his heart heavy with the weight of remorse.

“I should ask her,” he finally said, biting his lower lip in anguish, as he held the [Maidé Ball] out in front of him. “I know that after the great wrong I’ve committed, it’s the least I can do.” His brows furrowed. “And yet…I’m too much of a coward to even face her: to dare present her with two undesirable outcomes to choose from.”

“Quit lying to yourself,” Akira harshly snapped, his fervently glaring eyes opening wide to become a soul-cutting stare. “You’re hesitant because you know what she’ll choose, and it would go against your wishes.”

Zhao said nothing—it was as though Akira had peered directly into his soul.

He knew what he must do, though he couldn’t bring himself to make such a terrible choice. Because, the way he saw it, should the war between the Cultivators and the Stormfleeces be allowed to continue unimpeded, many more lives would be lost; many children would be left without parents, to fend for themselves, just as he and Chunghua had suffered to.

And Akira, as far as he could tell, was just the type of secretive, vindictive sort of man he knew he couldn’t fully trust to always have his back, with unclear motives and not a concrete plan to speak of.

And yet, he was also strangely charismatic, like a used riding-horse salesman with a knife behind his back. Which was why Zhao ultimately didn’t give, but rather allowed Akira to take Chunhua’s [Maidé Ball] from his hand, without resistance.

Akira raised the [Maidé Ball] up in one hand, looking upon it with a satisfied smirk.

“You’ve chosen wisely, my friend,” he said.

Zhao swallowed nervously, bowing his head again. “I can only hope that you’ll ensure that my faith in you is well-placed. And, that you’ll take good care of Chunhua.”

“Chunhua!” Akira’s whole demeanor perked at the name. “That bitchy Commander is your [Pocket Maid]?!” He turned chibi, snickering to himself at the thought of what sweet, sweet revenge awaited him. ‘I’ll make her pay for ever looking down on me,’ he pondered. ‘By impregnating her first—reducing the former loud-mouthed, prideful commander into little more than a pitiful breeding cow!’

“Of course I’ll take good care of her,” he said, with mischievous glee.

Just then, Vash could he heard yelling:

“Akira! I can hear you scheming from here. But don’t think, for a second, that Kestrel and I will let you get away with this!”

Akira sneered, uttering a wicked laugh as he did while clutching his newest, naked loli wife close as she was groaning and squirming, helplessly trying to break away from his wicked grasp.

“Cindy was a much better name—like a nice, blonde secretary who everyone knows gives really great head on the side.”

“Your disrespectful treatment of women is”—Vash paused, as he could be heard mildly grunting as though trying to decide upon a proper word—”deplorable! Disgusting!” he exclaimed. “Downright villainous!”

“Villainous? Huhu.” Unbothered, Akira was already resuming his descent down the stairs. “If a villain is what I am, for daring to try to bring order to this chaotic world…”

“Damn you, Akira…! Zhao! Don’t let him take Kanna!”

“Then so be it.”