Ultimate Spin System: Ero Spin?-Chapter 96 - What Sword?

His body screamed at him to move, to get out before things spiraled even further. But Beatrice’s presence was like a gravitational force, pulling him in with every step she took.

"I—I’m just here to bathe," he forced out, backing up slightly. "Not for... whatever this is."

Beatrice chuckled, the sound low and sultry. "Oh, darling, don’t be so stiff~" Her gaze flicked downward. "Well... not in every sense, at least."

Lucas clenched his jaw. "I’m leaving."

He turned, but before he could take another step, Beatrice sighed dramatically.

"What a shame. And here I thought you’d be different from those brainless knights back in Velmoria."

That made Lucas pause.

His system immediately latched onto the moment.

[ Oho? Drama arc unlocked?! ]

Lucas exhaled slowly. "...What does that mean?"

Beatrice stepped closer, her expression shifting—less playful, more... bitter.

"My husband. A fool. A knight too dense to understand anything outside of swinging a sword." She traced a finger along the edge of the wooden pillar beside her, eyes distant. "He was so obsessed with honor, duty, and ’protecting the kingdom’ that he never once saw me."

Lucas frowned. "He... ignored you?"

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "He was married to his sword more than he ever was to me."

A bitter edge crept into her voice. "You know, back in Velmoria, a knight’s wife is expected to be patient, to smile, to accept being an afterthought. While they chase glory, we wait in silence, treated like trophies that gather dust."

Her fingers tightened against the wood. "I was beautiful, they said. A prize. But what’s the point of beauty when the man you marry never even looks at you?"

Lucas stayed silent. He wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Beatrice’s eyes lifted to meet his, and suddenly, the air between them shifted. The teasing, the seduction—it wasn’t just a game.

It was something else.

"...But you?" She took another step, closer this time. "You’re different."

Lucas tensed. "You don’t even know me."

"I know enough." Her gaze softened, though the hunger in her eyes remained. "You’re not like him. I see it in your eyes—sharp, calculating. You notice things. You think. You feel."

Her voice dipped lower, almost a whisper. "And most importantly... you see me."

Lucas inhaled slowly.

This was dangerous.

Very, very dangerous.

[ System Notification: WARNING! MILF BOSS IS USING ’TRAGIC BACKSTORY’ DEBUFF! ]

[ System Suggestion: RUN. ]

For once, Lucas actually agreed.

Beatrice’s fingers brushed his arm—just barely, but it was enough to make every nerve in his body go on high alert.

"So, tell me, Lucas." Her lips curved into a knowing smirk. "Would you rather be like my husband... or be something more?"

Lucas swallowed, heart pounding.

He needed to get out of here.

Now.

Lucas gritted his teeth, his brain battling against the primal instincts clawing at him. This was bad. Really bad.

But... damn it.

Beatrice was built differently.

The way her damp towel barely clung to her curves, the softness of her skin brushing against his arm, the way her emerald eyes smoldered with amusement and something deeper—it was the kind of scene straight out of an isekai anime.

And not just any scene.

A forbidden scene.

[ System Notification: ALERT! You have entered the ’Isekai NTR Zone’! ]

[ Current Buff: +20% Weakness to Seduction ] [ Current Debuff: -50% Willpower When Faced with Milfs ]

Lucas took a deep breath, his rational mind screaming at him to turn around and leave. But his body? His traitorous body had already locked onto the absolute peaks of Beatrice’s figure.

Her towel, barely holding on, looked like it was seconds away from surrendering to gravity.

His throat went dry.

"Shit..." he muttered under his breath.

Beatrice giggled, as if sensing his struggle. "Oh my~ You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?"

Lucas snapped his gaze away, forcing himself to stare at the bathhouse wall instead.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t—

He looked.

And immediately regretted it.

Beatrice shifted her weight slightly, the motion sending a very concerning bounce through her towel. Her skin glistened with steam, the lantern light casting soft shadows along her curves.

"Relax, Lucas~" she purred, stepping even closer. "No one will find out. My dear husband is off playing knight somewhere, too busy swinging his sword to ever notice what’s right in front of him."

Her voice dripped with honeyed resentment, each word coiling around him like a snake.

Lucas swallowed hard. "That doesn’t mean—"

Beatrice leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "But you noticed me, didn’t you?"

Lucas froze.

[ System Notification: SYSTEM OVERRIDE. BRAIN IS SHUTTING DOWN. ]

This was insane. He was insane for even hesitating.

But this wasn’t just any situation.

This was peak isekai NTR scenario.

A knight’s wife, lonely and neglected, craving the attention her husband never gave her.

And he was the outsider—the rogue element, the dangerous factor, the protagonist caught in a morally questionable but incredibly enticing situation.

It was like every anime he’d ever seen where the MC suddenly finds himself in a noble’s mansion, and the very married wife of some great warrior starts looking at him differently.

His body betrayed him, heat crawling up his spine.

Beatrice saw his hesitation and smirked, pressing closer.

"You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?" she whispered.

Lucas’s pulse thundered in his ears.

Yes.

Yes, he was.

And that was the fucking problem. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Beatrice’s emerald eyes glowed with playful hunger as she leaned in closer, her lips curling into a seductive smirk.

"When he swings his sword at his enemies..." she whispered, her voice dripping with sin.

Then, she bit her lower lip and purred, "You can stab me with ’that’ sword instead."

Lucas felt something deep in his core ignite.

Any remaining pretense of innocence? Gone.

Any illusion of morality? Shattered.

Because let’s be real—he was never the good guy in these situations.

He had already crossed the line three times in his old world.

With his neighbors’s wife. With his landlord’s wife.

And most importantly—with his own big booty stepmommy.

All of them had husbands. All of them had sworn vows.

And yet, when the doors closed, when the nights got too lonely, when their men failed to satisfy them—

They came to him.

Lucas wasn’t naïve. He wasn’t one of those self-righteous, honor-bound protagonists who turned away from temptation with a conflicted heart.

No.

He had long since accepted the truth.

MILFs belonged to him.

Married? Engaged? Neglected? It didn’t matter.

If they sought him out, if they wanted his attention—

Then their so-called husbands had already lost.

And now, here in this new world, standing before a voluptuous innkeeper with a towel barely clinging to her curves—

Nothing had changed.

Lucas smirked, finally dropping the act.

"Oh?" His voice was low, teasing, as he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "That’s a bold offer, Beatrice."

She shivered at the way he said her name.

Lucas chuckled, running a slow gaze over her body, taking in the peaks and valleys barely concealed beneath the damp fabric.

"But I have to warn you," he murmured, leaning in just enough that his breath brushed her skin. "My sword doesn’t stop once it’s drawn."

Beatrice’s breath hitched, her grip on her towel tightening.

Then she laughed—low, throaty, and utterly pleased.

"Mmm~ Just what I wanted to hear."

Lucas let out a slow breath, his smirk deepening as he eyed Beatrice’s damp skin glistening under the lantern light. The tension in the air was thick, the heat of the bathhouse wrapping around them like a seductive haze.

He stepped even closer, lowering his voice to a playful murmur.

"How about we use some soap? You know... to get a little cleaner in this dirty situation."

Beatrice arched a delicate brow, her lips curling into an amused smile. She chuckled, tilting her head slightly. "Wow, what a words."

Lucas shrugged, reaching over to a small wooden tray beside the bath, where a bottle of fragrant soap rested. He picked it up, uncorking it with a flick of his thumb, and let the thick liquid drip into his palm.

"I just like to be thorough," he mused, rubbing his hands together to create a smooth, foamy lather. His gaze met hers, dark and teasing. "Wouldn’t want to miss a single spot."

Beatrice hummed in approval, stepping closer, the steam swirling around them. "Then show me," she purred, turning slightly so that her bare shoulders faced him.

Lucas smirked, running his soapy hands over her soft skin, spreading the lather across her shoulders. The slickness of the soap made every touch glide effortlessly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. He trailed down the elegant curve of her back, his touch firm but careful.

Beatrice let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing into his hands. "Mmm... You’re quite good at this."

Lucas chuckled, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush against her ear. "I believe in taking my time."

She shivered at his words, the heat between them intensifying.

Turning back to face him, Beatrice reached for the soap bottle, pouring some into her own hands. She smirked as she rubbed the slick foam between her fingers. "Well then, let’s make sure you’re just as clean."

She pressed her hands against his chest, the soap making every touch glide smoothly. Her fingers traced along the defined lines of his muscles, her touch slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment.

Lucas inhaled sharply as she moved lower, her teasing gaze never leaving his.

"Feeling clean yet?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

Lucas exhaled, his smirk returning. "Not even close."

Beatrice laughed, her fingers still trailing across his skin. "Then I suppose we’ll have to keep going."

The bath was warm, the night stretched on, and neither of them was in any hurry to stop.