Gon's Harem System
Chapter 176: Alone with Lena

Chapter 176: Alone with Lena

The palace doors slammed shut behind Gon, cutting off the drone of voices from the common hall.

He strode into the gardens, the evening air sharp with jasmine and damp earth, a welcome slap against the stuffy weight of the palace.

Dusk had settled, the sky a bruised violet slashed with amber, and the gardens sprawled out, hedges dark with dew, stone paths crunching under his boots.

Mira’s barb from the corridors still burned in his ears. "Hiding already?", but out here, it was just noise.

He wasn’t hiding; he was hunting, restless and sure, the palace a playground he’d master one way or another.

The quiet pulled him forward, a chance to reset before he took what he wanted.

He rounded a corner and spotted her, Lena, perched by a low stone fountain, fingers skimming the water, ripples fanning out.

Her dark hair caught the fading light, framing a face that was all sharp lines and quiet poise, her gray tunic hugging her frame just enough to catch his eye.

She wasn’t loud like Mira or soft like the giggling noble girls he’d charmed back home, and that made her a challenge worth sizing up.

She glanced at him as he approached, hazel eyes cool and steady, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Slumming it out here?" she said, her voice dry, teasing without effort. "Thought you’d be dazzling Milo’s crowd."

Gon grinned, wide and sharp, leaning against the fountain with a swagger that came easy.

"Got better things to chase than Milo’s applause. You’re not exactly screaming for attention either."

He let his gaze linger, taking her in, freckles dusting her nose, the curve of her hips, and liked what he saw.

Lena flicked water from her fingers, the droplets glinting, and shot back, "Don’t need to. You lot make enough noise for everyone."

Her wit was quick, a jab that didn’t sting, and Gon laughed, low and rough, enjoying the game already.

He edged closer, the stone cold under his hands, his tone dropping to a playful taunt.

"What does that make you, too good for the rest of us?"

She tilted her head, meeting his stare without blinking, her calm a wall he wanted to crack. "Just the one who doesn’t trip over her own ego," she said, smirking fully now.

The banter was sharp, easy, and Gon felt the itch grow, her coolness wasn’t a turn-off, it was a dare.

He’d bedded enough back home, left a trail of flushed faces and whispered names, and this place was no different.

Lena was just another mark, a prize to claim before he moved on to the next.

A burst of laughter cut through the dusk, Mira’s, loud and grating, echoing from the palace.

Gon’s grin tightened, her voice a reminder of the stakes, but he shoved it aside.

He wasn’t here for her right now. He turned back to Lena, stepping into her space, his voice a low growl. "You don’t flinch, do you? All that calm, makes me wonder what it’d take to shake you."

She didn’t back off, just raised an eyebrow, her eyes locked on his, steady as stone. "More than you’ve got," she said, but the challenge in her tone lit a fuse in him.

He didn’t think, just moved, sure and fast, one hand snaking to her waist, the other tilting her chin as he kissed her.

It was hard, deliberate, a claim staked in the heat of the moment.

Her lips were cool, tasting faintly of the fountain’s mist, and for a split second, she stiffened, caught off guard.

Then she shoved him back, not hard, but firm, her hands flat against his chest. "What the hell was that?" she snapped, voice low, eyes flashing, not mad, but sharp, like she’d caught him cheating at cards.

Gon stepped back, grinning wider, unbothered. "A taste," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Figured you’d loosen up."

Lena stared at him, her calm snapping back like a whip, though her breath hitched just enough to betray her.

She wiped her hands on her tunic, slow and deliberate, her gaze cutting through him. "You don’t get to decide that," she said, cold now, a warning wrapped in steel. "Try it again, and you’ll regret it."

She turned, stalking off into the dusk, her steps silent but stiff, disappearing into the garden’s shadows without a backward glance.

Gon watched her go, leaning back against the fountain, his grin fading to a smug curl.

The kiss lingered, her taste, the brief press of her against him, and he savored it, filing it away like a notch on a belt.

She’d pushed back, sure, but that only made it better; the ones who fought were the ones worth chasing.

Mira’s laughter had faded, irrelevant, and the gardens stretched quiet around him.

He didn’t like Lena, not the way fools fell for soft eyes or sweet words.

This wasn’t about her, it was about him, his game, his tally.

She was one of many, a body he’d have if he wanted, and there’d be others after her.

He kicked a pebble into the fountain, watching it sink, and ran a hand through his hair. "You’ll regret it," she’d said, and he almost laughed.

Lena was a spark, a itch to scratch, nothing more.

The palace loomed behind him, full of more faces, more chances, and he’d play them all before this was over.

He straightened, cracking his neck, and sauntered back toward the lights.

****

The common hall thrummed with restless energy, a raucous tide of mages filling the space on Day 4, a rare break from the grind of training.

No drills, no barked orders, just a sprawl of bodies letting loose after days of restraint.

The air buzzed with shouts and laughter, the clink of mugs against tables cutting through the din like a pulse.

Torches lined the stone walls, their flames licking up shadows that danced over the crowd—some mages slumped in corners, sipping ale and trading quiet gripes, while others stood on benches, voices loud with tales that grew taller with each telling.