My Wives Are Seven Beautiful Demonesses Chapter 142 - No.142 Stumbling Into My Cute Gluttonous Fianc

[Location: Empire State Building, New York]

"Ah~ feels like it’s been forever, even though only 0.00001 seconds has passed."

I walked out of the dungeon with, now awake, Eris in my arms, while Carmilla looped her hand through the crook of my elbow as she had always belonged there.

Now, if anyone looked at us, the picture-perfect family of three would probably register as eccentric but rich, which—considering the Empire State Building was involved—was about as normal as New York got.

The air shifted the mont we crossed the threshold.

Not magically.

Socially.

The kind of invisible pressure that ca from stepping back into a world that kept moving even while you were busy nearly rewriting ancient laws of blood, death, and marriage.

Eris blinked sleepily, golden eyes adjusting to the city lights pouring in through the massive windows.

"...Papa?" she mumbled.

"Yes?" I replied imdiately, instinct overriding everything else.

She tilted her head, gaze drifting past toward the skyline. "Papa, where is this? Ewis feel small."

"Yes," I said softly, adjusting my hold so Eris could see better without straining her neck. "It’s called New York. A human city."

She stared.

Not in awe the way tourists did. Not with fear either.

Just... processing.

"So many boxes," she decided after a few seconds. "Tall boxes. Shiny boxes. Papa... did giants stack them?"

Carmilla’s lips twitched. She did not laugh—she was far too dignified for that—but the bond humd with faint amusent.

"Close enough," I said. "Humans did."

Eris frowned, clearly dissatisfied with that answer. "Humans are small."

"They are," I agreed. "Which is why they build big things. Makes them feel less small."

She considered this very seriously, then nodded once. "That makes sense."

Carmilla glanced up at . "She reasons like an Elder already."

"She reasons like a child," I corrected. "Which is far more dangerous."

That earned a look. Fond. Sharp. Proprietary. The kind that said mine without needing to say it aloud.

"Let’s go, get this over with..." I sighed just imagining the reactions I would get.

Zeraphira, Selena, and Gabriel should be having lunch in that ’ABCD Tofu House’.

I left with the excuse of going to the washroom and am returning with an ancient vampire queen and an ancient angel with a damaged soul turned into a child.

I could almost feel the chaos this would—

—no.

Scratch that.

I did feel it.

Not as dangerous. Not as killing intent.

But as the subtle tightening of narrative threads, all converging toward a single, very public table inside a very human restaurant that absolutely did not deserve what was about to walk through its doors.

I adjusted my coat, squared my shoulders, and stepped forward.

The Empire State Building humd behind us, elevators whispering, tourists laughing, caras clicking. None of them noticed the ancient vampire queen walking at my side, or the angel-child in my arms whose soul was stitched together with sothing older than Heaven’s apology letters.

Carmilla’s grip on my arm tightened—ever so slightly.

Not nerves.

Possession.

Eris, anwhile, yawned and rested her cheek against my chest, her tiny wings folded in with the unconscious precision of soone who had done this for centuries—even if her mories of doing so were still fuzzy.

"...Papa," she mumbled again, voice already half-dreaming. "Food?"

"We’re headed exactly there," I said. "Human food. Questionable nutrition. Excellent emotional value."

She humd approvingly and promptly decided that was sufficient information.

Carmilla glanced down at her, eyes softening in a way that still caught off guard. "She trusts you completely."

"That’s usually what happens when you don’t lie to children," I replied. "Or abandon them. Or turn them into batteries."

Her gaze flicked up to mine—sharp for a fraction of a second—then eased. "Point taken."

We moved.

The transition from the Empire State Building to the street was seamless in the way only New York could manage. One mont: marble floors and observation decks. The next: car horns, food carts, pedestrians flowing like a living current around us.

And not one of them noticed.

Not really.

So glanced. A well-dressed man with snow-white hair. A striking woman with pale skin and crimson eyes hidden behind sunglasses. A child asleep in his arms.

Rich foreign family, maybe.

New York had seen stranger before breakfast.

ABCD Tofu House was only a few blocks away—a modest little place wedged between a laundromat and a stationery shop, its faded sign stubbornly resisting gentrification.

And inside it...

Chaos, waiting patiently.

Just then—

Thud!

Spat!

Two different sounds echoed, one seemingly a person, while the other seed to be the thing the said person was carrying.

I handed Eris to Camilla and bent to help the culprit up, and froze.

The thing that ca to my view was long black hair, framing a face with soft cheeks, slightly chubby in the cutest possible way, then the fallen ice cream cone.

"M-My ice cream... died..." Her gaze, like she was staring at a dead body.

Then— a strange, heavy pressure pulsed outward— not violent, not explosive, just... hungry.

A primal, bottomless void.

But as her gaze fixed onto , the strange pressure evaporated like a fog burned away by sunlight.

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink as she blinked up at , wide-eyed and utterly unguarded.

"Uh... h-hi," she murmured, holding the ruined cone like it was a sacred relic.

I couldn’t help but tilt my head, curiosity piqued. The pressure she emitted—Gluttony incarnate—was palpable even without actively using Observation Grid.

"You dropped it," I said lightly, crouching to her level. "Do you want to get you another one?"

Her eyes widened further, pupils dilating with... hope? Delight? And maybe the tiniest hint of... desperation.

"C-could you...? Please?"

I raised a brow at the simplicity of the request. She didn’t demand, she didn’t threaten, she didn’t glare or glare with authority. She simply... wanted.

Tti—ring!

[Alert! The Gluttonous Fiancée detected!]

My pupil contracted just as the system prompt flashed past my mind.

"...Ravvy?"

Her eyes lit up like headlights as she heard calling her na.

"D-Darling—"

Puff~

With that, she lost her consciousness as if soone had yanked the plug on reality itself.

She crumpled forward, caught only by my arms instinctively closing around her. The faint sugar scent of ice cream still clung to her clothes, mingling with the natural, unmistakable aura of Gluttony that radiated off her in waves—hungry, curious, and alive.

"Easy... easy, Ravvy," I murmured softly, adjusting her weight in my arms. Carmilla’s sharp gaze didn’t waver, but her grip on my elbow tightened imperceptibly, almost like she was marking territory.

"Darling, huh? So, any random girl calls you darling in today’s—" Carmilla didn’t finish her sentence, because my attention was already fully captured by Ravvy’s limp, chocolate-stained form in my arms.

Her soft, muffled whine tugged at sothing instinctively protective in . I shifted slightly, feeling the weight of centuries of potential, history, and sheer... gluttonous aura pressing faintly against my senses.

"Ravvy," I murmured again, voice low, just enough to reach her. "Stay with , alright? No more collapsing over ice cream, deal?"

Her tiny, chubby fingers twitched, grasping at my coat like a lifeline. Slowly, she blinked, pupils dilating in a mixture of embarrassnt, relief, and sothing... else.

Carmilla’s eyes—sharp, calculating—never left the scene. "Darling..." she repeated, voice flat but threaded with curiosity. "So she calls you that, and you don’t... react?"

I gave her a faint shrug, hiding the twitch of amusent behind calm. "She is one of them... my fiancée."

"Is that right..." Carmilla’s voice was quiet, a deliberate probe. Her crimson eyes studied Ravvy in my arms, tracing the soft curves of her face, the chocolate-streaked clothes, the aura of bottomless hunger that barely registered to ordinary senses but scread to mine.

I nodded slowly. "Yes. She’s my Gluttonous fiancée."

Carmilla’s lips twitched—not a smile, more a twitch of calculation. "Gluttonous... hmm. That explains the... overwhelming presence."

Ravvy, anwhile, was slowly regaining awareness, her gaze still clouded with sleepy embarrassnt. Her tiny hands fumbled to clean her face with the sleeve of my coat, making the chocolate sar worse rather than better.

I crouched slightly, holding her steady. "It’s alright. Accidents happen. No need to be embarrassed."

Her black hair, falling ssily around her flushed cheeks, caught the light in soft highlights. Her small fra was deceptive—her aura radiated a kind of hunger that could rival the most disciplined demons I’d encountered. And yet... here, she was just a cute, flustered human-turned-fiancee, completely vulnerable.

"Darling..." she whispered again, voice hesitant, like testing if the word really fit in this world.

I let a faint smile slip. "Yes, Ravvy. Darling."

Her eyes widened, pupils dilating even further, and she gave a tiny squeak of delight. Her tiny hands tugged again at my coat, now with purpose, as if she were anchoring herself to .

"Hey, Ravvy, why are you clinging to a strange pervert—"

"Darling!"

I leaned back slightly, keeping Ravvy secure in my arms, and let my eyes sweep the room.

The first voice—sharp, sultry, undeniably magnetic—belonged to none other than my Lust fiancée, the pink-haired siren whose re presence made casual breathing feel like a negotiation with fate. Her gaze locked on , pupils shimring with a combination of irritation, desire, and the need to jump my gun.

The second voice, entirely out of sync with the calculated nace of the first, belonged to my Envy fiancée, her purple locks shimring with violet fire as her eyes narrowed, not in anger exactly, but in asuring curiosity—like a cat deciding whether to pounce or observe.

"DARLING!"

Valeria, the lustful one, hauled herself on ...

***

Stone , I can take it!

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