Kenta marched up to the next house, his determination still burning bright. It was a larger cottage, boasting a well-kept flower garden and a freshly painted blue door. He knocked, balancing the heavy wooden bucket against his leg.
A tall, austere woman answered.
"Good morning!" Kenta began, flashing his most dazzling smile. "I represent a new, exclusive dairy-"
"Not interested," the woman cut him off instantly, her eyes narrowing. "We get our deliveries from the Silver Hoof. Madame Valerie guarantees her stock. I wouldn't feed unknown, unpasteurized sludge to my hounds, let alone my family."
Slam.
Kenta winced as the door rattled in its frame. "Sludge?" he muttered, looking down at the frothy, incredibly sweet-smelling white gold in his bucket. "You have no idea what you're missing, lady."
He moved on to the next house. And then the next.
By the fifth house, his charming smile was beginning to crack.
"Madame Valerie has supplied my family for ten years," an elderly man wheezed through a cracked window, refusing to even open his door. "Be gone, boy. We don't cross the Silver Hoof."
By the tenth house, Kenta's arm was aching from carrying the sloshing, two-gallon bucket.
"Look, I'm just asking you to take a single sip!" Kenta pleaded with a tired-looking housewife holding a crying toddler on her hip. "It's completely free. Just try it!"
"I can't," the woman whispered nervously, looking up and down the street as if she were being watched. "Valerie's girls check the empty bottles. If they find out we're buying from an unsanctioned vendor, Madame Valerie will blacklist us. We'll never get butter or cream again. I'm sorry, please leave!"
She shut the door hurriedly, sliding the deadbolt locked.
Kenta stood on the cobblestones, his chest heaving with frustrated breaths. He dragged his hand through his hair. It was unbelievable. He had a literal magical elixir-a sweet, stamina-boosting nectar harvested directly from the massive, heavy breasts of a beautiful Holstaur-and he couldn't even give it away for free.
The sheer dominance of Madame Valerie and her Silver Hoof Dairy was an iron wall he couldn't punch through. The villagers weren't just loyal; they were terrified of losing her favor.
Time slipped away as he wandered through the winding streets of the village. The cold morning air gave way to the pale, golden light of dawn.
The village bell tower chimed in the distance. Dong. Dong. Dong. Six o'clock.
As the echoes of the bell faded, the rhythmic sound of trotting horses and wooden wheels filled the streets.
Kenta retreated into an alleyway, setting his heavy, untouched bucket down on the cobblestones. He rubbed his sore shoulder and peeked around the corner.
Coming down the main street was the competition.
It was a sleek, beautifully crafted wooden cart pulled by a sturdy brown horse. The side of the cart bore an elegant, silver-painted emblem of a horse's hoof. But what really caught Kenta's eye were the delivery workers.
They weren't rough, dirty farmhands. They were three young, attractive women dressed in matching, immaculately clean blue-and-white maid uniforms. They moved with practiced efficiency, laughing and chatting as they carried neat glass bottles of standard cow's milk to the porches of the houses Kenta had just been rejected from.
The villagers actually opened their doors to greet the Silver Hoof girls, handing them coins and exchanging warm pleasantries.
Kenta watched from the shadows of the alley, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together. He looked down at his crude wooden bucket. The contrast was humiliating. He looked like a beggar peddling dirty water.
"I guess I should just go back to the barn," Kenta sighed, leaning his head back against the cold brick wall of the alley. "I don't think anything's gonna work. I can't compete with an established syndicate when I don't even have glass bottles."
He slid down the wall, crouching next to his bucket. The exhaustion was overwhelming. He had been thrown out of a mansion, slept on a dirt floor, milked a monster, and walked miles, all for absolutely nothing.
A surge of bitter anger boiled up in his chest.
He looked up at the sky, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Hey, System! Help me, you dumbass!" Kenta hissed into the empty alley. "Don't you see I am struggling here? What's the point of giving me a cheat code if I can't even sell a single drop of this damn milk?!"
For a second, there was only silence. Kenta huffed, ready to pick up the bucket and begin the long, depressing walk back to Emily.
DING!
The air directly in front of him shimmered. A glowing blue holographic screen violently popped up, illuminating the dark alleyway.
[System Query Acknowledged.][Opening System Interface & Shop...]
Kenta blinked, leaning forward.
At the top right corner of the screen, a small golden counter glowed brightly.
[Current Balance: 50 System Points (SP)]
"Right," Kenta muttered. "The points I got from milking Emily."
He dragged his finger down the holographic screen, scrolling through the available options in the System Shop. As he read the entries, his frown deepened.
[Basic Hay Pitchfork - 5 SP][Stall Cleaning Magic (Minor) - 10 SP][Cowbell Polisher - 5 SP][Beast Odor Masking Spray - 15 SP]
"Are you kidding me?" Kenta groaned, swiping the screen aggressively. "These are literally useless. A cowbell polisher? How is that going to help me break a market monopoly? I need something to sell my product, you stupid piece of trash."
He scrolled all the way to the bottom of the list. There was only one item left. It was highlighted in a faint purple glow, indicating a higher rarity, and it was the single most expensive item he could afford.
Cost: 50 SP.
Kenta read the title and the description.
[Skill: Lesser Incubus Whispers][Cost: 50 SP][Type: Passive / Active Charm][Description: The voice of the Abyssal Breeder carries a supernatural frequency. When conversing with human females who possess weak wills, deep loneliness, or simple minds, your words will bypass their logical defenses. It instills an immediate, magnetic infatuation. They will quickly develop a powerful, irrational 'crush' on the host, making them eager to please, trust, and obey you.]
Kenta stared at the screen. He read it twice.
"A charm skill?" Kenta muttered, scoffing dismissively. "This looks so useless. I don't need village housewives to have a schoolgirl crush on me. I need them to buy my fucking milk!"
He raised his hand, fully intending to close the window and save his points for something practical later.
But his hand hovered in the air.
He looked back out at the main street. He watched as one of the pretty, blue-uniformed Silver Hoof delivery girls smiled and handed a bottle of milk to a blushing, flustered housewife at her door.
Women, Kenta realized, his brain suddenly kicking into overdrive.
Who managed the households in this village? Women. Who made the purchasing decisions for the groceries? Women. Who was currently running the delivery routes for his competitor? Women.
If logical business arguments, superior product quality, and free samples weren't working because they were too scared of Madame Valerie... then logic was the wrong angle of attack.
A slow, creeping, absolutely wicked smile spread across Kenta's face. The frustration completely melted out of his eyes, replaced by the dark, calculating gleam of a true predator.
"A skill that makes women blindly infatuated with me just by talking to them..." Kenta whispered to himself, his voice dripping with sinister amusement.
He looked down at the [Purchase] button floating next to the skill.
"This skill looks so useless," Kenta chuckled, a dark laugh echoing off the brick walls of the alleyway. "But... I can definitely make it of use."
Without a second thought, he slammed his finger against the holographic button.
DING!
[50 SP Deducted.][Skill: Lesser Incubus Whispers Acquired.]
A strange, warm sensation washed over Kenta's throat and vocal cords, leaving a faint, minty tingle in his mouth. He picked up the heavy wooden bucket of Emily's milk, stepping out of the shadows of the alleyway and directly into the morning sunlight.