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33.33% Fairy Tale - Start with Red Riding Hood / Chapter 9: Ch-9 Night is young.

Bab 9: Ch-9 Night is young.

"Enjoy it? What does that mean?"

Ryan was confused as he watched the innkeeper leave.

Not long after, there was a knock at the door.

"Mr. Constantine, may i come in?"

The door opened and Ryan, still holding his gun, looked up and froze.

A voluptuous blonde entered, carrying a tray. She was wearing a red dress with a very low neckline, her ample breasts pressed together and exposed.

If he remembered correctly, this woman was somehow related to the innkeeper.

After putting the food on the table, the blonde didn't leave. Instead, she approached Ryan with a sultry stride, then knelt before him.

"Please have fun with your dinner tonight," she said with a charming smile, lowering her head.

'Fuck! What is this all about?' he wondered, caught off guard by this unexpected turn of events.

But life was full of surprises, and he found himself quietly observing the alluring figure before him, her long golden hair cascading over her shoulders.

Ryan watched the ups and downs of the figure before him, his hands on her head, quietly enjoying the rare leisure time.

Soft, suppressed sighs filled the air, giving way to quickened breaths.

Ryan gritted his teeth and gathered his strength.

Everything was quiet.

The blonde, lying against him as if exhausted, panting softly, like a fish struggling for air.

Half an hour later, she regained some strength, her lips curving into a smile as she began to tidy up.

However, when she turned around. She found a fully erect, ready-for-penetration 7-inch dick behind her.

"Don't worry - the night is young," he murmured, and a hint of fear flickered in her eyes.

"Mr. Demon Hunter, please... I can't go on..."

But any pleading was lost in the sigh she exhaled and the strong sense of satisfaction she felt.

"Ah! Fuck good, fuck me harder.. Ah..Oh.. So good!!!"

The innkeeper, passing by the door, peered through a crack and saw her discarded dress on the floor and the bed shaking. He shook his head and turned away as if used to the scene.

The next morning, Ryan had just come downstairs, freshly washed, when he encountered the innkeeper's amused grin.

"Mr. Demon Hunter, were you satisfied with the hospitality last night?" the innkeeper asked with a twinkle in his eye.

After all, the tremors on the second floor of the inn lasted almost half a night.

This made the experienced innkeeper feel unbelievable.

With a sigh, he no longer doubted Ryan's identity as a demon hunter.

It can only be said that he is worthy of being the legendary demon hunter.

He can do what others cannot.

Ryan gave him a mild look, feigning innocence as he replied, "I'd like to know more about this village."

He shifted the conversation. "When did the werewolf attacks start?"

The innkeeper sighed. "It started three years ago. This village, Daggerhorn, once belonged to a baron. But then everything changed. In just a few days, seven or eight villagers disappeared."

"The lord sent knights into the forest, but none returned. Soon after, wild beasts attacked the manor, and everyone, including the baron, died."

"The village was once prosperous, attracting merchants passing through. But ever since the werewolves appeared, it's been abandoned, growing more desolate by the day."

Ryan noticed the innkeeper's sad expression and asked, "Have you ever thought about leaving and settling somewhere else?"

"Some have tried," the innkeeper replied, shaking his head, "but none have returned. They were probably taken by the werewolves. Occasionally, lost travelers stumble into the village, bringing news of the outside world."

"A village you can only enter, but not leave," Ryan muttered, rubbing his chin.

"Where are these travelers now?"

"I don't know. Every time someone new arrives, they disappear shortly after."

Nodding, Ryan left the inn.

Eventually, he found himself in the center of the village, in front of a church where pious prayers echoed.

Summarizing the clues from his conversation with the innkeeper, Ryan narrowed his eyes.

Werewolves first appeared three years ago. Outsiders who entered the village soon disappeared.

Villagers who tried to leave were hunted down by the werewolves. Most of the food and supplies in the village were provided by the village chief, who claimed that they were stored in advance to prevent famine, although this explanation seemed dubious.

The villagers had learned how to ward off werewolves from the village priest: werewolves feared fire, and weapons or silver soaked in holy water could harm them.

When he asked about an old oady rumored to live in the forest, none of the villagers seemed to have heard of her.


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