Dungeon+Harem+Master

When the collector returns to get the driver's license he needs to get his smartphone back, standing in front of the room, he can't even feel the signs of people from the dust. Before checking, the collector half-explained.

"I took my eyes off you for a moment, and you didn't feel like I was wrong."

"Who are you doing this to..."

Forget Victoire's tough scratches.

Pordina jumped at me as I opened the cheap, oddly heavy door to the room. She's curling things up early, but the collectors didn't all see the meaning of the word.

"But I could understand that you were in a hurry. What the hell happened? Interpreter."

Victoire, who was behind it, pointed his lips and exposed his dissatisfaction.

"I'm not your private interpreter."

Victoire promptly asked the circumstances of the matter by discussing something with Pordina as she grabbed her hair.

"Hmm. I mean, it's pretty good."

"What are you talking about? Finally got hit in the brain?

"... I want a ride there!

"Next time you talk like an octopus, I'm gonna cut your stuff off."

Victoire did not move his expression slightly, but imitated moving scissors at his fingertips. The scrotum of the treasurer shrunk furiously, imagining a crying goodbye to his crotch.

"I'm kidding. I can't afford it."

"You have too much room. Damn, I should have stayed if this was happening."

"Great, come on, here you go. Hey, don't strangle me. Come on, come on, come on."

(Though, I seem a little upset too. Okay, Klando. Don't get hot. Let's go cool here. I'm talking about the elves. Anyway, I haven't been that far... haven't I?

According to Pordina's story, first, Liza, tired of this space, escapes through the window. Try to follow it. Karen follows. They left the room shortly after they screamed and stopped Dorothea from looking for them as a delight. Pordina was taken aback by the elves' escape play as if she had shown it together, and was "escaped..." in a slightly hardened gap.

"Wow! What the hell?

Pordina raised her voice and knelt on the spot, rubbing her forehead against the legs of the collector, sounding with a painful nose. Then, according to the traditional practice of the Wolves of War (Wearwolf), when you lean on your back and expose your defenseless belly and wrap your tail around your crotch, you pose as "boil, bake and like".

She wasn't even kidding, and seeing the sincerity of that expression showed how serious she was.

"Pfft.... No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

Victoire is turning sideways and biting off a laugh. Pordina looked like she was about to cry as she dyed her sad cheeks into a disgraceful red, waiting for the punishment to be imposed.

but maybe Victoire should be retaliated against in a tight way later. Pordina is quite a resentful character.

"Whoa. Don't laugh. Pordina, you'll never come up with that much. The sin of slavery is the sin of the Lord. If this mistake is unforgivable to you, redeem it on another day with your work."

The treasurer will rinse and stroke the belly of a soft Pordina from the top of the apron.

Pordina no longer tried to hide the sweet chirp, but when she sat back down gently, she came to bury her face in her neck by leaning to the collector who was standing on one knee. It smelled a little good and the keeper was lightly enveloped with joy.

"Well, come out for a second. And you wait there. Just in case there's no chance he'll come back."

"When they say that..."

Victoire distorts his beauty and bites his upper lip gently all the time. Pordina, who was willing to head to the search to retrieve her own faults, shook her tail small, left and right, and her dog ears were dripping.

"Get me some hot coffee. I'll be back by dinner."

The collector raises one hand vidly and when he states the decision Zerif, he tries to dance with a nihil grin and opens the door and leaves. Pordina's probably drop-off greeting. And from behind, I heard Victoire asking, "What is coffee?" but I ignored that.

"Come on, I saw you dressed up, but it's getting nasty, but come on, it's hard."

The collector thought as he ran down a rattled rusty railing staircase.

If not so much time has passed since the escape play, the elf daughters should not have traveled that far.

No. I'm deeply connected to them. It's also in the depths of deep psychology.

(Think, think, collector. Where they would be right now...! A high-performance antenna that will catch the signatures of the troubled Dorotheas)

"Mom. There's a weird guy over there."

"Shit. Taro, you shouldn't look"

"... Ugh!

In the meantime, I was annoyed, so I barked.

"Hiya!

When the collector let go of the fingers of his hands, which were choking on his forehead, he jizzed at the alley where the passers-by's parents and children ran away.

"Don't ever call them about me. I became part of the world. We have to change places."

In fact, although not particularly, the collector took the direction of travel in front of the station. The elves stand out anyway...... should.

But I can't do it if I don't think so.

(What do I have to do first... yes, the basics of the investigation, the listening)

When the collector stood in the easiest place for people to concentrate in front of the station, he condensed the experience cultivated in the detective drama to look like it, speaking from one end to the other.

"Huh? Elves? It's creepy, though?

"Haha. Brother, know yourself."

"Um... I'm meeting him, so please don't"

"Look at Temei's rash and tell him to numb it. You octopus."

I'll call the police.

"Hon...... t! Because I can't! Stop."

"Die."

……

Mostly for young and beautiful women.

"Huh. Still a sinking rate pa. Hey, me."

The collector was mostly handily sleeved, even speaking, and held his head when he sat on the bench like a wax.

- Why not? Me, I must have gotten a little hot. Whoa!

As a matter of fact, among the collectors, they had a proven track record of dropping beauties from one end of the other world, so strange self-consciousness had been built firmly behind an excessive success experience.

Sure, he was speaking to a pretty lady, but everyone who goes down the street was at the level of a two-army athlete (farm), so to speak, that didn't even extend to the appearance of one of the daughters-in-law of the zodiac.

People tend to unconsciously stop working and give up on each one above themselves in the extreme.

One factor was that most of my daughters-in-law, who were also supposed to be collector girls, were unaware that they would be classified as Getestuff lovers.

"Ahhh. No more! These skanks are fine. Hey, there you go. Did you see this weird, cool elf with all his ears?

"No, please don't. What is it? I'll get people."

"Russell, look at the Acer board. You're a jerk! I'm over-conscious. I don't know who chooses with a kid who goes with deep-sea fish. You refuse to be a part of the Spaceship Earth. That's it!"

The treasurer did not hesitate to release a hell of a thrust into Dobbs' throat, which had been hurting his pride and eating him.

Dobbs collapses on the spot when he raises a strange voice "uzu". Outrageous.

Hello, there, Jen.

"What the heck!

When the collector looked back quickly, there stood a little fat young man with a bandana wrapped around his head, a checkered shirt and an animated poster stuck in Zach.

Ota youth said it was the cold skies of December, but they were launching intense hot air from their faces as if they were taking a bath.

When the collector was pressured by an aura so peculiar, one step back, Ota Youth's bottle bottom glasses glowed hard.

"By Lord Elf, do you mean a woman trying to get into a vehicle over there?

"What! Ah! It's Karen!"

Moving his point of view, there was a look of Karen getting in there with her back pressed into a white commercial van. The men are in their twenties, pah, but no matter how they look at it, they're releasing a little villain aura.

"Karaine! It's me. Don't get on!

Did the men notice when the collectors scream? Quickly push Karen into the car. Running away with a rocket start.

"I'm going after him. Thank you very much."

"Phonukapo. I don't want any thanks. I like elf humiliation, but it's still the happiest end in real life."

The collector runs out after the white van, but there's no way he's going to be in a car fight with people.

Immediately, we have to get the tracking leg.

"Whoa. That's a good one. Brother, I'm gonna borrow this car for a second. I'll give it back later."

"Hey, what are you talking about? Get those dirty hands off my body. My 2,000 GT gets dirty. Ugh! You know what this is worth. Ahh!

Boy, a man in his mid-thirties in a primitive yellow suit like a comedian barked up to prune. I can't help it if a man goes mad.

It is the car that the collector has seen that Toyota is proud to be the famous car 2000 GT.

It is a premium car that was used in Ian Fleming's original "007 Will Die Twice" and has a value of over 100 million in auctions.

"Russai. It's a car, let's run."

When the collector banged the polished front part, the man freaked out like an electrode had been plugged straight into his brain.

"Touch me with your filthy hands."

"Uh. Bad, bad. Pepper, I don't want this."

"Whoa!

When the collector spits on both hands and strokes the body of the car, the man shakes his long hair, left and right, as possessed by the ghost, confusing.

"What the fuck is that? It's just a car, right?

"I don't understand. No. There's no car! I'm running with culture on it. Ahh! Ahem."

I can't free up the poker, so the collector forced me to move on to the 2000 GT when I poked the guy and dragged him out of the car.

"Ho. What the hell, this. Left handle, huh? Don't be so hard."

"Touch me!

"Shiatsu eh"

"The!

The zodiac left in front of the station as he choked on the eyeballs of a man who would follow him like a dead man.

Nevertheless, it's quite different from the van that took Karen away.

(If I don't manage to catch up, I have a bad feeling... that's what my instincts say)

Steering is manipulated to step on the accelerator. The collectors are extravagant without cakera in their brains, regardless of compliance with laws and regulations. What a red light.

"Red proceeds forcefully and cautiously,"

2,000 GT ignoring traffic laws at all pushes the Greater Tokyo Road side-by-side.

From the rear, accidents like the Marseille police pato in the movie TAXi are making loud noises from one end to the other, but the collectors weren't there.

I could see the back of an earlier van in good shape as I flew through death relying on wild surveys in a motion that feared no fine dust, ignoring the storm of cluction.

"I'm not letting you get away with it!

The collector slammed the nose into the ass of the van for nothing.

Do-o, and. The sound of the ground ripping off echoes, and the van in front of me snakes.

"I don't want to stop until I stop."

As I continued to attack mercilessly many times, the sound of a siren chased me from behind to make me stand offering people's hearts.

Unlike the insensitive collector, you just didn't think it was a good idea, the van successfully went into the sidewalk and made a quick stop.

The men slip apart and disappear into an alley holding Karen back from nothing. The collector jumped into a thin, filthy building where the men were swallowed up, just waiting.

"Oops."

At the same time as opening the door, he felt heavy signs from the left and backstepped. It turns out that Blackjack was swinging down towards the back of his head.

Blackjack is a suitable weapon for beating heavy in leather bags and cloths. The collector whistled when he saw a man his age standing in front of him and teething.

"What the hell. Treat your guests with generosity."

"Ruuuuuuu. You're out of luck I didn't know we were the Kanto Polar Ghost Federation......!

"The Kanto Polar Ghost Federation?

The brown-haired man lowered his blackjack sloppily with a cynical grin in his hand.

"... bad. I have no idea. Some kind of circle?

"Eh, meh, meh. Here, Conoya Row! Nah, nah!

Kanto Polar Ghost Federation.

It is a so-called yakuza of about thirty constituents belonging to the branch of the Night Fork Ghost Society. They were also known in the city for their militancy and were a gang-designated organization that shimmered around here.

but it couldn't possibly have known that, and even if it did, it was information of the kind I don't care about forgetting in three seconds.

"Heh. It's no use apologizing. You and that strange outsider are over when we're blind."

"Is that blackjack handmade? That makes a sad noise of change. I wonder if you did your best to accumulate money."

The man easily rode the provocation of the collector.

"Kill, kill, kill!

"You're poor with cursing vocabulary. You should read the classics. Your brain should improve."

The brown hair came at me suddenly as I splashed my saliva from my mouth. The collector fisted up a horizontally shaken blackjack with his fist as if it were still this empty chest when he wielded it.

Boo Boo Ki, he said. There was an intense sound of the wood breaking.

"Adori."

The brown hair threw up blood reflexes and stopped moving when it was tapped into an ancient magazine stacked in the corner of the room.

"Ah. Hey, I haven't collected any information yet. Don't screw yourself."

The collector came closer and slapped his brown-haired cheek with a pepper, but he is stripping his white eyes and fainting. Looking around, the rooms were separated by thin dirty partitions, with cluttered office supplies rolling around. Moving on to the back room kicking in lunch caras and coupler mens containers, there was a man in a pipe chair in the center of the nicely cleaned up room.

"Wow! What the hell is this guy?"

The man was radically similar to the dynamite lucky man of a creepy AV actor. Hasn't the long hair stretched out to the shoulder been washed by Loc or tangled like twisted ramen even if it is away?

"Hello. Is he alive? Wow, it moved."

Both eyes of the man who was closing excitedly open at the same time. Somewhere resembled that of a reptile.

His forehead was slightly retracted and his upper right eye above Rompari was cloudy. I'm not wearing anything but a brief that hides my groin, as I have lost the concept of clothing. That brief also had yellow stains all over it with one-point accents and the keeper was strangely annoyed.

Dynamite is not in bad shape. I guess I was born too bone, my arms, shoulders and legs are impeccably thick, but it was like I was luxuriously sagging after workout.

(What a waste to be this man if you work out)

Dynamite suddenly rose out of his chair, like a catch-up religionist.

"Hoaaaah."

"Calm down. Let's have a conversation first."

"Ho, ho, ho, ho!

The dynamite took a pair of tonfers that stood on the pipe chair without stopping the odd noise as he continued to spew bubbles out of his mouth, and unexpectedly moulded and showed them in a hands-on motion.

It is a beautiful shape that flows unimaginably from its ugly shape.

It's not just that. I don't know why I'm here.

"I see. Are you next? Honestly, it looks like we're gonna have to do this."

As the collector moved his neck to the left and right to make a puffy noise, his eyes glistened as he watched the direction of the dynamite the day after tomorrow, and his cracked lips shaped his grin.

"Hoaaaah."

The first thing I set up was dynamite. When the creeper moved the tonfer in a quick motion, he shook that he could not destroy the head of the collector at the same time, left and right.

"Slow down!"

When he backstepped, the collector put out a low kick and stopped. Because the dynamite changed Tonfer's orbit and struck him down was in my eyes.

When I could pull my right leg in the critical part, the tip of the stick rattled the floor all the more bitterly. The pursuit of dynamite will not stop.

He twirls around like a comma as he spins the tonfer hard and half a turn to hunt down the caveman on the wall.

"I don't have time for Wally to play with Omei."

"Huh?

When the collector stopped moving perfectly with the wall on his back, he shrugged as he sank down a dynamite tonfer with a single piece of paper.

At the same time, the dynamite struck the walls with skill, during which a gap was created, albeit instantaneous.

When the collector exhaled without breath from his lungs, he saw the palm bottom.

Dynamite rots trying to protect herself by attracting the other lingering tonfer to her body, but that doesn't make much sense.

The more the collector spread out, the more bowl of tea the bowl. The palm of the hand was easily smashed into the left arm of every tongue fur that tried to guard the dynamite.

"Igihi-no!

"Yes!"

The collector slammed his head into the face of the dynamite as he protruded his deflected body.

The hardest bone thickness crushed the dynamite nose and deformed the face beautifully.

"Wow."

"Shiatsu. This is... this is Todome!

Dynamite comes crashing down to persevere in grasping by the collector, even if he is forced to sink his face.

As the collector slid through the dynamite crab strands, he quickly took his back, turned his hands on his hips and decided on a Germanic suplex.

Slightly, a loud noise rang from room to room. Dynamite's head is severely damaged and cracked, her neck is completely broken and she has severe cramps as she leaks her big piss. The sound rang properly and the silver key on the keyring slipped off the brief.

"Hmm. What kind of event gives you items from an enemy you've killed..."

The collector picked up the fallen key before remembering the odd Dejavek. The collector almost remembered the abandoned house when he used to work part-time in demolition - he stopped.

Picking up the fallen key and going further, he admitted the stairs that seemed to go underground.

"It's finally starting to look like a game."

Tips and shoe noises go down. Those big noises and fighting. The villains who took Karen must be aware of this one.

Shortly after I got off, there was a door and I used the key I took from the dynamite, and the murmuring noise rang and opened.

"This is - Karen. Temei and the others, what the hell are you doing here?

There was a slutty atmosphere in the basement where the zodiac arrived. At the wall, a table that tied someone crossed, a triangular trojan horse like the one you can only see on AV, and a strangely giddy silver mat highlighted the heterogeneity that diverged from everyday life.

Karen had been held from both sides by two men in front of a man in a suit who, no matter how he saw it, was not robust.

A strangely colorful woman in authentic photography equipment and underwear jumps into view and her head cracks.

"Fuck. I came in here somewhere."

The total number of men is five. When the boss black suit flicks his jaw, a young Sanzo style jumps in.

"In short, you kidnapped my Karen. You had a bad time shooting videos."

"Come on."

As the collector gently twisted up his tripod arm, he gave it a snort to a black suit that wouldn't let him read the movement of his eyes with his sunglasses.

"Kaz, Akira. Out of the way of work. Clean it up."

An actor-like man stood up who was naked with the man who had the goth video and was intertwined with the women.

I see. It's amazingly big for both of us Japanese. I don't care how you estimate them. One hundred and ninety-five is stiff. Besides, there was a difference in cloud mud between the creeps I knocked down earlier and how I built my muscles.

"You didn't know. It was so noisy in Japan."

"Oh, come on. Brother, let me go before my brothers come clean. That way, he said he'd rack without suffering, ah, aye!

Blurring, the noise rang and Sancho screamed. The collector broke the bone of his arm so that he could break the twig.

You were alert to the collector who showed you broken bones without hesitation, and the danger caged in Kaz and Akira's gaze.

"Yes. Ahhh. Oh, my arm."

"Ugh. If you're a man, don't cry about a broken arm or two. Oops."

"Oh, yeah."

The collector lost consciousness in an instant when he naked the tripod. Sanoshita falls on the spot, firing a fart that emits a strong odor from his anus.

"What are you doing? I'm sorry."

I could see Karen's cheeks stretched out that the man in the black suit was capturing.

Moment after moment, the air in the field changed.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry it's not cool anymore."

Beastly killings radiate intensely from the body of the collector. Cuz and Akira hesitated over the overwhelming difference in power because of their slender arms, but came along with a roar that slapped their backs and scratched their fright off at the fury of the black suit behind them.

The settlement was a moment. When the collector waved his fist unconstitutionally, he released a straight shot at Cuz's face.

Cuz tried to prevent a direct hit by crossing his arms, but he snapped his puffy arm, slapped his fist bone in the face by Moro, and blew it up to the wall with Pooh like a superball. Gleaming, Cuz stopped moving by hitting his limbs on the wall naked. The women in the entanglement screamed tall.

"Wush. Shh!"

Akira rushes out and releases a flying kick at a speed that doesn't suit the giant. When the collector caught Akira's leg and neck with one hand while standing, he quickly swung down from that state to the floor to handle the stuffed animal.

A heavy noise pounded the wet towel against the wall. Akira's head splashed around like a cracked watermelon with ripped and erupting blood tides.

The man in the black suit took off his jacket when he removed his sunglasses. The women in underwear who finally stand up rush over but are shaken off with one hand just as depressing.

"Heh. God's brother was a former heavyweight professional boxer... of all things apologizing now... Oops!

At some point the collector stomped his three lower throats with his toes and quieted them, which had been resurrected.

"The President of the Kanto Polar Ghost Federation, the Divine Civilization. What's your name?

"Bond. It's James Bond."

……

"It's a joke. A black joke."

"Either way, you can't leave without being interrupted by Shinogi."

"Is that a line about taking innocent women? Cockroaches."

When God fights posing in an attitude that clearly offended him, he gradually packed his distance as he took steps in a familiar move.

"Mouse crawling"

It was God who moved first. Sneaking in a supple motion like a cunning snake as he rocked his body up, down, left and right, he threw the jab away. I know you were going to try to get the power of the collector with a light warm-up first, but it can't even lead to a secretly crisp monster.

"Ha-?"

Jab of restraint. God's right cobweb had been lightly captured. God is also a magnificent body over one hundred and ninety and his hands are sufficiently big as a fighter. but it was not comparable to the bowl tea bowl-like palms of the collectors, which are out of standard.

Vertigo, and. It sounds in a room thirsty with fists ringing and bones of five fingers snapped.

The collector tried to push the Chilean paper together and crushed God's fist all at once.

"Ahhh. Oh, thank God!

"You punched Karen. Just be like Picasso, and then... be ready."

God's face stained with the colour of despair. The collector punched a knee kick into his defenseless belly when he let go of his hand from the fist of God. God instantly breaks his knee and writes his body into a deep stab blow while crushing his guts and ribs.

When the collector grabbed God's hair with the power of the lion to deceive him, he forced him to hit the floor as he was.

Cancer, and. An incredible sound of flesh and bone hitting each other constantly plays a sign of ruin.

When I let go of my hand where it stopped moving like that, I slammed the stomping until I still had this with the spine of God stretched out to the big letters.

"Hmm. Shit. Nice sweat - wow!

It is a complete victory. Karen hugged me from side to side in anticipation of the end of the punishment. When I managed to fall, I tumbled at the little nose of the girl burying her face in her chest.

"I didn't leave so much on my own. I don't think so."

When Karen looked sad, she began to elucidate somewhat as she waved the twin tails of the trademark, but now the collector without an interpreter could not understand the meaning of the word.

"Now you finally have one. Where are the two more?"