Chapter 342: Breaking the White Devil
"I-I am so sorry! I-I might just be too exhausted lately..."
What the hell?!
Finn’s mind was screaming in absolute panic. Why did his newly evolved body have to betray him at this exact moment?! More importantly, how could his primal instincts flare up so violently just from Bisca standing by his side?
In a single, agonizing second, Finn felt his carefully crafted image shatter. The ruthless, cold-blooded mastermind of the Magic Council—the man who would trample anyone to maintain his iron grip on Fiore—was gone. In his place was just a flustered, perverted young man lusting over a beautiful married woman.
He felt incredibly pathetic. He was the White Devil, yet he couldn’t even control his own biological reactions.
He had always been exceptionally good at restraining himself. Countless women had tried to throw themselves at him for money or political favor, but he knew women were the ultimate double-edged sword. A brief moment of fun could unravel years of meticulous planning. In his position, surrounded by political enemies and Dark Guilds, a single moment of weakness could be fatal. He wasn’t invincible; even the monstrously strong core members of Fairy Tail had limitations.
But right now, his prestige and authority were bleeding out on the floor. He had blatantly pitched a tent in front of his employee. He braced himself for the worst. She could scream. She could quit. She could use this massive blunder to blackmail him into forgiving Fairy Tail’s bottomless debt.
"D-Don’t worry... It’s fine."
Instead of screaming or threatening him, a soft, warm hand gently rested on his trembling shoulder.
"You really don’t have to be that nervous, you know?" Bisca’s voice was incredibly gentle, lacking any trace of anger or disgust. "Isn’t it perfectly normal for a healthy young man your age to wake up like this? I promise... I will keep this our little secret."
Rather than exploiting the situation, Bisca was actively trying to soothe him. She patted his shoulder with a maternal tenderness, her voice soft and reassuring. Yet, despite her calming words, her bright green eyes kept uncontrollably darting down to his lap, staring in sheer, unfiltered awe at the massive reaction straining against his trousers.
Amazing... Bisca marveled internally.
Whoever eventually won Finn’s heart was going to be an incredibly lucky woman.
"I am so sorry," Finn repeated, genuinely relieved that she wasn’t using this as leverage, which only made him feel worse about his own dark, calculating nature. Getting aggressively hard over a married woman like Bisca was inexcusably rude.
He desperately tried to mentally command his erection to subside. But as he reached down to adjust himself, Bisca’s soft, warm hand suddenly covered his, stopping him. Her slender fingers slowly traced up his wrist, ostensibly trying to calm his frantic movements.
Instead of cooling him down, the searing heat of her palm against his skin sent a violent shockwave through his nervous system. His body grew even more restless. The dam had cracked, and his pent-up, newly evolved desire was overflowing like a volcanic eruption.
"Finn-sama... you really don’t have to apologize," Bisca murmured, her voice dropping to a husky, breathless whisper. "I am not angry at all. It’s a natural reaction. And... if I’m being completely honest... I’m actually really happy that you find me attractive..."
She crouched down slightly beside his chair, bringing her face level with his chest. She peered up at him through her thick lashes, her expression a intoxicating mix of mature calm and girlish shyness. She knew it was wrong, but validation from the most powerful man in Fiore made her heart skip a heavy beat.
Her actions felt almost condescending—like an older sister comforting a flustered little brother. To the rest of the world, Finn was the Devil. But to Bisca, who had spent the last three years watching him work himself to the bone in an empty mansion, he was just a lonely, inexperienced boy who desperately needed a break.
Because she saw him as a human, she wasn’t terrified of his reaction. Instead, she was incredibly flattered. Her gaze kept getting magnetically pulled back to the sheer, terrifying size of his manhood.
More importantly, she couldn’t help but notice that Finn had suddenly become breathtakingly handsome overnight. His previously average features had sharpened into something predatory and flawless. With his immense wealth, status, and this new, captivating physical aura, women were going to be throwing themselves at his feet.
"...Thank you, Bisca. But even so, I truly am sorry."
While Finn continued to apologize, completely blinded by his own panic, he had absolutely no idea what was running through the mind of the ripe, voluptuous woman crouching beside him.
Seeing the most feared man in the kingdom stumble through an apology, his face flushed and his body screaming with desire, Bisca couldn’t help the maternal, yet deeply lewd urge that bubbled up in her chest.
"So..." she whispered, a sultry smile curving her bold red lips. "What exactly are you going to do with that?"
"...I don’t know."
What was he going to do?
Finn would never risk renting a room with a random escort, and romance was completely off the table. He was too busy. He had planned to ignore his urges for a few more years until his empire was fully secure. So, his only real option was to sit rigidly in his chair until the blood finally left his lower half.
But his honest, clueless answer struck a deep chord in Bisca’s heart.
He really didn’t know what to do. He was an orphan with no parents to guide him, no friends to confide in, and a life entirely consumed by ruthless politics. A sudden, overwhelming wave of pity—mixed heavily with her own rising lust and the deep debt she owed him—washed over her.
Before she could stop herself, the words slipped past her lips. "D-Do you need my help?"
"...."
Finn froze, his breath hitching in his throat as he stared down at her in absolute disbelief.
"I-I mean, just with my hands!" Bisca quickly stammered, her face turning the color of a tomato. "Nothing more than that, okay?!"
She wasn’t entirely sure why she had offered. Maybe it was gratitude for saving her family from starvation. Maybe it was pity for his sheer inexperience. Or maybe, she was just a married woman who knew exactly what a man like him needed, and the sheer taboo of servicing the White Devil was too intoxicating to resist. He would definitely keep it a secret. And it was just her hands.
But her words only made Finn’s blood boil hotter. His heart hammered against his ribs as his gaze unconsciously dropped, locking onto her moist, incredibly soft lips, painted in that signature, seductive red lipstick.
It was unbelievable. Yet, before Finn could even formulate a rejection, Bisca had already shifted, kneeling directly between his parted legs. The sweet, heavy scent of her floral perfume and warm skin completely enveloped him.
"You don’t need to do anything," she whispered, looking up at him with half-lidded, incredibly sultry green eyes. "Just sit back and relax, okay?"
Taking on the role of the experienced older woman, she reached up and tucked a stray strand of green hair behind her ear. With agonizingly slow, deliberate movements, her soft fingers reached for his waist. The sharp zzzzip of his trousers echoed loudly in the quiet office.
The cool morning ocean breeze swept over his exposed skin, but it did nothing to quench the fire. The moment Bisca’s incredibly soft, warm hand wrapped around his aching erection, a violent shiver ripped down Finn’s spine.
Bisca let out a soft, amused chuckle at his raw sensitivity. But inwardly, her own body was melting. The sheer, burning heat radiating from his massive shaft made her mouth water uncontrollably.
She took a deep, shaky breath, her chest heaving against her frilly maid apron as she looked up at him one last time. "Keep this a secret... okay?"
"Yes."
"Hmn~!"
All of Bisca’s earlier promises about "just using her hands" instantly vanished.
Finn’s head fell back against the leather chair, a ragged sigh of pure, unfiltered comfort escaping his lips as he felt the wet, scorching heat of her mouth completely engulf him. He reached down, his fingers tangling roughly into her soft green hair.
He had never imagined this would happen. Inwardly, a dark, primal door within his soul—one he had kept tightly locked away for years—was violently kicked open.
This isn’t good, the logical, calculating side of his brain whispered.
But his body didn’t care. Guided by his instincts, his grip on the back of Bisca’s head tightened, bucking his hips forward and forcing her to take every single inch of him. The quiet office was suddenly filled with the heavy, wet, incredibly lewd slurping sounds of a married woman utterly abandoning her morals.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, the salty ocean breeze carried a completely different kind of energy. A massive, deafening cheer erupted from the docks of Magnolia as a group of battered, triumphant mages stepped off a ship.
The core members of Fairy Tail—those who had vanished into thin air seven years ago on Tenrou Island—had finally returned.
"WE’RE BACK!" Natsu Dragneel roared, blowing a massive plume of fire into the sky.
The plot had officially resumed.
Only, it might take a little while for Bisca to notice.