God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 843

Chapter 843: Lone Wolf And A Cheerful Fox

The sounds echoing from the kitchen caught Kafka’s attention. Judging by how lively the chatter was, anyone would’ve assumed it was Camila, since she practically lived in there—experimenting with new recipes, perfecting flavors, and ensuring every meal in the house was divine.

She was, after all, the best cook in the family.

But these voices were different.

There was laughter, bright, ringing, elegant, and another, lower one that carried a sharp, reluctant tone. The combination was so odd that Kafka slowed his steps, raising an eyebrow.

There was no way Camila was in there.

When he reached the doorway and peeked inside, the sight that greeted him made him stop dead in his tracks, then break into an amused grin.

It was them.

Two women he knew very well…but who he never thought he’d see together like this.

On one side stood June—the graceful, cheerful, and utterly radiant owner of the famous lingerie boutique.

Her azure-blue skin shimmered softly in the morning light as she leaned on her crutch, holding a camera in one hand. Her wavy blue hair fell over her shoulder, her smile as dazzling as ever.

And across from her was Seraphina.

The cold, merciless assassin. The aloof leader of the Church of Lesser Demons, known for her ruthlessness and her ability to end lives before her targets even knew she was there. Her expression alone could freeze a room.

Except…not right now.

Because right now, Seraphina was in a frilly maid outfit, the skirt short, the sleeves puffed, and the apron spotless white with little lacy edges. It even had ribbons.

She was standing at the counter, awkwardly chopping tomatoes, her usually icy face flushed pink as she muttered something under her breath.

Kafka nearly laughed out loud.

And June…June looked like she was having the time of her life.

She stood a few steps away, snapping photo after photo, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Perfect, darling, perfect! Just like that, keep your back straight, oh, that little tilt of your head is gorgeous! You’re glowing, Seraphina!”

Seraphina’s hand twitched, the knife slicing through another tomato with perfect precision.

“June…” She muttered, her tone stiff. “You really don’t have to say all of that.”

“Oh, but I do!” June said, lowering her camera for a moment to beam at her. “I can’t help myself! Look at you, you’re adorable! That uniform suits you so well!”

“I already agreed to this ridiculous outfit.” Seraphina grumbled, her cheeks bright red. “And I agreed to your request for a few photos. You don’t need to…overdo it with all the compliments.”

“Overdo it?” June gasped dramatically. “My dear Seraphina, you wound me!”

She clicked another picture and twirled slightly, her tone turning teasing.

“As a woman who appreciates both elegance and cuteness, I have a duty, a divine calling, to express my admiration when I see something beautiful.”

“I…don’t need admiration.” Seraphina’s eye twitched.

June only smiled wider. “That’s what all modest beauties say.” She leaned on her crutch and adjusted the lens again. “Now, come on, keep cutting! Natural poses, remember? I want authenticity!”

“Authenticity.” Seraphina repeated under her breath, staring at the pile of tomato slices in front of her. “I used to cut people, not vegetables.”

“Tomatoes, targets, it’s all technique, darling.” June said lightly. “Accuracy of the blade, steady hand…really, it’s not that different.”

“But it is.” Seraphina muttered, her blush deepening. “I’m an assassin, not a, maid model.”

“Oh, but you’re both today!” June giggled.

Kafka had to bite his knuckle to stop himself from laughing aloud.

Seeing the legendary Seraphina—who once singlehandedly decimated an entire cult, with a pink ribbon tied in her hair, slicing vegetables like a nervous housewife while being photographed by June, was…surreal.

“Beautiful! Absolutely perfect!” June’s voice rose again as she snapped another picture. “That little pout of yours, adorable! You look so cute when you’re frustrated. Oh, tilt your chin up a little. Yes! Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous!”

Seraphina groaned quietly, clearly dying inside.

“If I’d known this was what you meant by ‘helping you with a project,’ I would’ve declined.” She muttered, though her knife still moved obediently.

“You wouldn’t have.” June just beamed at her. “You’re too kind to me.”

Seraphina’s knife froze mid-slice. “That’s debatable.”

“Mm-hm.” June hummed with a knowing smirk, snapping another photo. “Don’t deny it, my dear. You’re adorable and soft inside, no matter how much you pretend to be heartless.”

Seraphina’s knife paused mid-slice as June’s teasing words sank in, her cheeks tinting pink.

‘How did I get here?’ She thought bitterly. ‘Once I was the most feared assassin alive…and now I’m being bullied by a woman with a crutch and a camera.’

Her grip on the blade tightened, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t—not when June was looking at her with that delighted, almost worshipful gleam in her eyes.

But Kafka on the other hand, watching from the doorway, understood exactly how this absurd scene had come to be.

It all went back two months earlier, back to when everything changed.

When his mother first arrived and Evangeline laid everything bar—every secret, every emotion, every connection, she also told him something that had stuck in his chest like an arrow: that both June and Seraphina were in love with him.

It unsettled him. He couldn’t just leave that truth hanging in the air, haunting them all. So he confronted them, directly, one evening, in that quiet, disarming way of his.

June’s reaction had been adorably awkward. She’d looked like a guilty schoolgirl caught stealing cookies, smiling awkwardly the whole way.

“Well…It seems like I’ve been caught. What am I going to do now?”

But Seraphina’s reaction…that had been far worse.

When he’d told her that he knew of her feelings, she had immediately dropped to her knees, trembling, her face as pale as snow.

“Forgive me, Master.” She had whispered. “I’ve committed the worst sin. I dared to love you.”

And then, to his utter shock, she’d drawn a dagger from her belt and tried to drive it straight through her heart.

He’d caught her hand just in time. The steel had glinted inches from her chest.

“Are you crazy?!” He’d barked, wrenching the blade from her grip.

“I’ve disobeyed the order of my heart.” She had whispered hoarsely. “I should not love my master.”

“Idiot.” He’d said, voice low and trembling with both anger and fear. “You think I saved you so you could throw your life away over something like this?”

That was the first time he’d hugged her.

And from there, things slowly began to change.

After long, honest talks, they started spending time together. Not as master and servant, not as assassin and savior, but as equals.

June as well. Kafka took them both out, dates, dinners, quiet walks under the stars, and they opened up about their dreams, their fears, and what they truly wanted from life.

It wasn’t long before his own heart betrayed him too. The more time he spent with them, the deeper he fell.

By the end of that week, he’d brought them both into the family.

And like always, the family embraced them wholeheartedly.

Olivia was ecstatic, especially about June. She’d been her first close friend in town, always visiting her, and had been gently nudging Kafka to get together with her.

“June is a wonderful person…You’d be lucky to have her by your side, Kafi.” She’d whisper from time to time to encourage him.

When June finally joined them, Olivia nearly cried from happiness.

June herself was overjoyed too. Having been left alone after her husband abandoned her, finding warmth and belonging again was like a miracle.

She was open, cheerful, adaptable, her years of running a business had made her a natural at talking to anyone. And by the end of her first day in the house, she had everyone laughing, even winning over Vanitas, who personally called her “a fine woman worthy of my son.”

Seraphina, on the other hand…was a challenge.

Unlike June, who blossomed instantly, Seraphina stayed distant.

Not out of coldness or disdain, but because she truly saw herself as beneath them.

In her mind, she was still Kafka’s servant, his shadow…The one who owed him her life.

She followed him everywhere, quiet, obedient, and ever-watchful, as if protecting him was the only purpose she had left.

At first, it had been awkward.

Especially on dates, when she’d insist on standing instead of sitting across from him, or refer to him as “Master” even in public.

But eventually, Kafka found it…oddly endearing.

He began teasing her about it, making her blush, and over time, her stoicism started to crack.

But within the family, she still treated everyone as her mistresses, bowing, fetching tea, cleaning the entire house before anyone could even wake up.

It got to the point where Kafka had to order her to rest. And even then, she still found ways to “serve” everyone.

Until June stepped in.

They had both moved in on the same day. The first time June saw Seraphina, her jaw had dropped.

“Oh my gods.” June had gasped, clasping her hands together like she’d found treasure. “You’re stunning! Do you have any idea how much potential you’re wasting dressing in all black that?”

“What do you mean, Miss June?” Seraphina blinked, confused.

June’s eyes had narrowed. “Miss June? Oh no, darling, we’re going to fix that and that tragic all-black wardrobe of yours.”

From that day onward, June made it her mission to “liberate” the assassin’s sense of style.

She’d constantly pester Seraphina, bringing her different outfits, lingerie, dresses, accessories, insisting she model them for her boutique catalogues.

Seraphina, seeing no reason to refuse what she assumed was an order from her master’s woman, complied obediently. “If it pleases you.” She’d say, stoic as ever, even while wearing silk and lace.

And at first, Seraphina didn’t understand. This was simply work, wasn’t it? Just another task to please her master’s household.

But June’s energy was relentless.

Whenever she posed, June would squeal like a delighted fox.

“Oh, look at you! A living goddess! You could walk into any runway and they’d drop their jaws!”

Seraphina, meanwhile, would mutter. “You exaggerate.” while her face turned warm.

And just like that, it became routine.

June was a fox, chatty, clever, persistent.

Seraphina was the wolf, silent, wary, always keeping her guard up.

But the fox never stopped circling the wolf, never stopped talking, teasing, coaxing her to play.

And over time, the wolf stopped baring her fangs.

Soon, June’s affectionate persistence drew real smiles from her, shy laughter, soft blushes she didn’t even realize she wore. They started going everywhere together.

June would lean on her crutch and chatter about fabrics and designs, while Seraphina walked a half-step behind, listening intently, always ready to catch her if she stumbled.

To anyone else, it might have looked like a strange pairing, the sun and the shadow—but to Kafka, it made perfect sense.

‘A lone wolf and a cheerful fox.’ He thought, watching them. ‘Who would’ve guessed they’d find their peace here?’

Thank You Wandrer and TheReaver666 for the Golden Tickets