My Supernatural Girlfriends Spoils Me Rotten

The room they stepped into was large, the air thick with the scent of old wood and faint traces of incense. A reoccurring theme in this place.

The floor was covered in woven mats, soft underfoot, while the walls were painted with scenes of misty mountains and winding rivers.

Despite its calm design, there was an undeniable pressure in the air

There were also no chairs again—only an open floor meant for those who knew their place.

At the center, three figures sat.

And, lining the walls were the generals' personal guards. They weren't just here to protect. They were here to kill if necessary.

But Asher paid them no mind. In the grand scheme of things, anyone weaker than Zagan was not a threat at all.

He was far more interested in the three generals already seated.

They didn't even glance at him or Lucy, as if they were nothing more than Hisame's personal guards—unworthy of attention.

Asher wasn't the type to seek recognition, but underestimation? That was something he could use.

Unfortunately, Kitsune was nowhere in sight yet so he did not make any moves.

Shuten dropped into his seat with a heavy sigh, clearly unimpressed by the situation.

It seemed he wasn't thrilled about the way things were unfolding but had resigned himself to going along with it.

The other three yokai generals however looked pleased. Read the latest on My Virtual Library Empire

Each had an unsettling and scary presence.

The first was a slit-mouthed woman.Her skin was ashen, smooth and devoid of warmth.

Long, midnight-black hair flowed down her back, blending seamlessly with the pristine white robe draped over her slender body.

But her most striking feature was her mouth—a vertical slit stretching wider than it should, revealing glimpses of needle-like fangs when she smiled.

Beside her stood an Amanojaku, small but full of mischief. Its skin was a strange, pale gray that seemed to shift in the light.

Two short, jagged horns curled back from its forehead, giving it a stubborn, almost rebellious look.

The last was a gashadokuro, a towering figure wrapped in a frayed black robe, its skeletal frame barely concealed beneath the tattered fabric.

Its hollow eye sockets burned with an eerie blue glow, and its grinning skull remained perfectly still.

Hisame took her seat, but just as she was about to lower herself into her usual spot—

Miko slid into it first.

Her fingers twitched, her nails ready to strike.

However —

No one objected. No one corrected him.

They had already made their decision.

Her seat was no longer hers.

In the end, she was forced to sit elsewhere.

This level of blatant disrespect was too much, even to Asher.

For a moment, he found himself wondering—had she done something to deserve this?

Hisame was cunning, always scheming, always thinking steps ahead. But for her to be treated like this by her own peers…

It was really questionable.

"So," she began, her voice dangerously low and calm, "you all made your decision without me? Isn't this a bit too much?"

"Don't play like a victim, Hisame," the slit mounted woman spoke first "You knew this would happen sooner or later."

She giggled, but with her unnatural, slit-mouthed grin, it looked more like she was baring her teeth.

"Just be grateful we even let you hold that position," she continued. "You were never really qualified for it, anyway."

The words sliced through the room like a sharp blade.

Even Asher, who had no personal stake in this power struggle, could feel the shift in the air.

Meanwhile, Shuten exhaled through his nose, casting a brief glance at Hisame, as if gauging whether she would lash out.

But she didn't react too openly . She let a few seconds passed by before responding.

"Is this because I'm not pure-blooded?" she asked, her gaze sweeping across the room. "I thought I already proved myself when I assassinated that person."

"You did… but tradition is tradition." The slit mounted woman shrugged, tilting her head slightly. "And you've already had the privilege of enjoying the prestige that comes with being a general. Now, it's time for you to step aside and let someone more deserving take your place."

Hisame didn't move, didn't blink. Her claws tapped idly against her sleeve, a slow, rhythmic sound that barely masked the storm brewing beneath her composed exterior.

She inhaled deeply, then exhaled through her nose.

"More deserving?" Her voice was eerily steady. "And who, exactly, decides that?"

"We do," The imp-like general smirked, his teeth glinting in a mocking way. "So you should just accept it. "

He grinned wider, tilting his head as if he were offering some great favor. "But don't worry!"

His tone turned sing-song, gratingly cheerful. "You still get a nice rank, and guess what? You even get to keep your little territory! See? It's not so bad!"

Hisame's ears twitched out of pure frustration. "Are you serious right now ?"

The imp swung his legs again, humming to himself. "Really, you should be grateful. We could've taken it all away, but we're so nice, aren't we?"

Hisame's fingers curled into fists, her claws digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood.

Grateful?

They expected her to be grateful for this humiliation?

She had bled for this position. She killed for it. She had earned it through skill and sacrifice—yet they spoke to her as if they were doing her a favor by allowing her to step down.

"And am I to take that everyone agrees with this decision?"

She let the question hang,"Even Kitsune?"

Silence stretched across the room for a brief moment—then, laughter erupted.

The imp practically cackled, rocking back and forth as if this was the funniest thing he had heard in centuries.

The slit-mouthed woman wiped away an imaginary tear. "Oh, Hisame… you really don't get it, do you?" Her grin widened, splitting her face unnaturally. "She was the one who instigated this on the first place."

Her grip on her own emotions wavered, but she forced herself to remain still, even as the smirks around her grew more condescending.

"Where is she? I want to hear it directly from her mouth. After that, I'll no longer challenge your decision." She insisted.

The imp kicked his legs idly, his small voice piping up again.

"Ah, that's too bad. If you came earlier, you might've caught her. But Kitsune is a busy, busy person." He tapped his temple. "She's already left."

Hisame's jaw tightened. Of course.

"How convenient," she murmured.

The imp exhaled, arms crossing over his chest.

"You can believe what you want. But the decision has already been made, and it's final."

"I see..."

Her voice trailed off, soft and distant. For a second, they thought she accepted her fate.

Then—she vanished.

The imp snorted, unimpressed.

A cheap trick.

He had already analyzed her abilities long before this meeting. He knew the brief window in which she disappeared, the fraction of a second before she reappeared to strike.

All he had to do was ensure his defenses were in place before that moment arrived.

His power surged.

A thick, shadowy aura exploded from his body, spreading in all directions.

Tendrils of dark energy curled around him, forming an impenetrable barrier—a cocoon of defense meant to counter any angle she could attack from.

"Come on, then." His lips twisted into a smirk. "Try it."

It was an easy lesson.

A simple show of power to remind Hisame of her place.

But something went wrong.

A golden glow exploded around her as she reappeared—faster than before.

For a split second, her speed and power doubled, her form a streak of purple and gold.

That fraction of a second was all it took.

His timing—ruined.

His barrier—shattered.

SLASH!

Hisame's claws ripped through flesh and bone like a blade through silk.

And just like that—the imp general's head was gone.

The attack happened so fast that the other generals could only react—too late.

Blood sprayed across the tatami mats, and the imp's lifeless body slumped to the ground.

Despite his arrogance, the imp general was not weak. Far from it. He was simply caught off guard, his own confidence turned against him.

He did not expect that she was hiding her true power all along.

And now, the mood has change.

The remaining generals no longer looked at her with condescension. They were wary and ready for a full blown fight.

Even Miko, who had been nothing but smug up until now, slowly unsheathed his short sword.

His silver eyes, once filled with mockery, now held a flicker of caution.

All of them were on high alert.

That meant no more surprise attacks.

But that didn't bother her.

She still felt confident.

Because in that brief exchange, she realized something—Asher had enhanced her, and the effect was too impressive.

The golden light, the sudden increase in speed and power—it was all him.

Which meant…

His support skill alone was enough to tip the balance.

If he joined the fight directly, then dealing with the rest of the generals would be—far easier.