“Huh?” Eltiel, back in her canine form, yawned in reply. She’d stretched out her large body comfortably in Norman’s living room. Her usual black trench coat lay discarded, and he was brushing her jet-black fur.
It had become their ritual after a job for Norman to groom her. Her fur had a unique luster and silky feel. He spoke as he brushed her slowly and carefully.
“Jacqueline Harley, who was sold by her brother and forced to work in an illegal brothel. She’s eighteen now, but she was twelve when she started working… That’s six years. I don’t even want to think what her adolescence was like.”
“Woof.”
“Exactly. It’s not worth picturing. What matters is that she survived six years in that brothel. Six years of being sold by her brother as a plaything for random rich men.”
She was nothing but a tool forced to satisfy their desires, at their mercy for six years—a workhorse.
“Woof?”
“No, that’s not all. You saw the kids at that brothel, right? It wasn’t just children, but she was one of the older ones, a veteran. Imagine all the kids she saw used and discarded in those six years.”
No age restrictions meant that even young children became merchandise, some even missing limbs. Jacqueline herself had been covered in scars. Surely, some children must have died or been driven mad while working there.
“It’s not a safe area. Not just for the homeless, but also for orphans. Kids being forced to work at those places are either one or the other, or they were sold off like Jacqueline. She probably empathized with them and hated the men who tormented her and those kids.”
“Woof?”
“It’s no different with the homeless.”
Eltiel twitched as Norman moved to brush behind her ears.
“What do they do with damaged merchandise from the brothel? Toss it. Where? In a back alley for the homeless to pick up. That’s how the first three satisfied themselves.”
It wasn’t an uncommon tale.
“The child who gave us the note at the restaurant told me about the living conditions the homeless face.”
Three of the homeless had satisfied their physical urges, likely with the discarded merchandise from the brothel.
“She was aware, of course. Jacqueline must’ve been terrified she was next, but—”
Then she’d awakened as an Unlaw.
“After awakening, she realized how extraordinary she was. And she was clever to boot. Her noble clients might have taught her a thing or two. Just killing her brother wouldn’t change anything. She resented the brothel and the men who used her and the others. Above all, she couldn’t forgive them. That’s why she started killing and kept killing.”
Righteous fury. A rage induced by a need to do what you believe is right. She couldn’t forgive them, so she killed them.
And so she stayed.
“The rest was simple. Killing a homeless person or a laborer wouldn’t cause much of a stir, but it would be a big deal if a noble died. And then one did. That brought attention to the brothel. The police investigated, so it couldn’t be covered up anymore. Lo and behold, she succeeded in bringing it down.”
“Hrrrm?”
She guessed that if the police exposed it, the merchandise would be considered victims and protected. If not, the claws of justice would have likely struck more than five times. Her actions weren’t fully justified, but she was unable to stop.
The Ripper born of hell, bringing forth even more hell.
How ironic that a hellhound would be the one to take down such a monster.
“Well, I guess that’s about it. I probably got a few things wrong, but I’m no detective.”
“Woof.”
“Ha-ha, right? It was a nice way to kill time. Well, I think that’s enough grooming for now.”
“Hmm.”
Eltiel sat up. After shaking herself out, she circled around to where Norman was sitting on the floor.
“Whoa… Ha-ha, that tickles, El.”
“Woof.”
Lick, lick.
She licked Norman’s face with her large, coarse, red tongue, and he laughed at the sensation. In her canine form, her mouth was roomy enough to fit Norman’s head whole, and even a single fang grazing his neck would rip it open.
Yet Norman was unbothered.
He simply laughed and accepted her.
“Hrrrm.”
“Whoa.”
She raised her face after giving him one last lick and returned to her human form.
Her hair, no longer black but golden, fell in waves around her body. Her red eyes were fixed on Norman Hamish, lying there defenseless. He appeared dopey, but he was by no means frail. It was hard to tell under the coat he usually wore, but he was a former soldier who had never slacked in his training, so he was muscular with good coordination. He wasn’t fond of fighting, but that did not make him weak. He was the kind of man who could walk fearlessly through dangerous slums.
Eltiel knew well how intelligent he was. When they solved Unlaw cases together, he was the one playing detective. She also knew how attractive he was.
And that attractive man now lay beneath her.
She thought to herself, if she just used a little force, she could kill him.
He was a human, and she was a monster. That was reality. Despite knowing that, she served him. How to put it? It was…intoxicating.
“Mmm.”
“Ha-ha!”
She licked his face. He laughed, defenselessly, innocently, seemingly unaware he was in very real danger. Whenever she saw him like that, heat flared deep inside her.
He’d been like that since they first met half a year ago.
Eltiel was the daughter of a noble from a certain town. She had awakened as an Unlaw on a trip to Bardium. Out of nowhere, she’d transformed into a black dog, trembling, unable to understand what had happened. The world hadn’t been turned upside down—she was the one who had changed. Quivering, scared, she thought she’d fallen into hell, completely alone.
That was when he’d found her.
Norman hadn’t known the dog he’d found was an Unlaw. It was just a passing whim. She’d been saved by that simple gesture. She’d learned how to use her abilities and begin solving cases as Norman’s partner.
She had no interest in the other Unlaw.
Well, there were three she did have an interest in, but that was a story for another time.
“Lord Norman.”
“Hmm?”
Her face was centimeters away from his.
Her red eyes shined and locked onto his pale blue ones. Her ample breasts pressed gently against his chest, and he could feel them with every breath. Her pale arms rested on his shoulders sensually. Her long hair acted as a natural dress, covering her back and flowing down over her large, pillow-like rear.
Even her hands could crush him with some force. Her frame was large, her eyes inverted, her appetite for meat enormous, her sense of smell on par with any canine, and her strength unnatural.
“Hee-hee.”
“You look like you’re having fun.”
“Yes…yes, very much so.”
Her body swayed, and the soft pressure on her trapped breasts made them jiggle.
“…You’re a feast for the eyes.” Norman said.