God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 499

Chapter 499: I’m Basically Her Little Brother
Kafka let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if the entire exchange had bored him. He rocked himself on the chair, crossing his arms lazily.

“You know.” He began, his tone lighter but still laced with an undercurrent of authority. “I really can’t be bothered to keep talking about this.” He paused, letting his words linger before continuing with a sly grin. “But in case you misunderstood what you walked in on…”

Nina’s husband stiffened, his eyes narrowing in wary anticipation.

“I was simply blowing something out of Nina’s eye and not anything else.” Kafka said casually, his expression completely composed as though the explanation were the most natural thing in the world.

Nina’s head whipped toward him, her eyes wide with disbelief. She hated lying—it was against every fiber of her being. She had always been someone who would rather face the consequences of the truth than resort to deceit. But Kafka’s calm, confident tone and the subtle glance he gave her made her pause. He wasn’t asking her to lie for the sake of lying—he was protecting her, diffusing the situation in a way only he could.

She bit her lips as her gaze darted between Kafka and her husband, who was staring at them both with a mixture of suspicion and fear.

Finally, after swallowing her pride, Nina gave a frantic nod, her cheeks burning as she reluctantly went along with Kafka’s explanation. “Y-Yeah.” She stammered, her voice trembling slightly. “Something got in my eye. And Kafka here was just helping me get it out.”

Her husband’s expression twisted, his lips parting as though he wanted to argue. But his gaze kept flickering back to Kafka, and the fear that lingered in his eyes was palpable. He hesitated, his hand twitching at his side.

“Then…Then why was she sitting on your lap?” He finally asked, his voice thin and uncertain.

Kafka didn’t miss a beat. “Better position.” He said calmly, as if the answer were obvious. He shrugged nonchalantly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I needed to get close enough to see what was in her eye. And this seemed like the most efficient way.”

Nina’s breath stopped for a second, her heart pounding as she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. The sheer audacity of his words left her speechless, but what baffled her more was how easily he said them, as though there wasn’t a single flaw in his reasoning.

Her husband blinked, his suspicion wavering. He opened his mouth to speak again but faltered, the weight of Kafka’s presence bearing down on him. He looked between Kafka and Nina, his expression conflicted.

At first, he had been so certain of what he’d seen, but now…Now he wasn’t so sure. Kafka’s calm confidence and Nina’s uncharacteristic nod of agreement had planted seeds of doubt in his mind, and his fear of Kafka’s imposing aura didn’t help matters.

“I-I.” He stammered, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “That’s…I mean…”

Kafka raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “You mean to say you’re doubting her?” His tone was deceptively light, but the sharp edge beneath it was unmistakable.

The man flinched, taking a small step back. “N-No, I’m not saying that.” He muttered defensively, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good.” Kafka said, his smile taking on a colder edge. “Because if there’s one thing you should know by now, it’s that Nina doesn’t lie. So if she says that’s what happened, then that’s exactly what happened.”

Nina’s eyes darted to Kafka, her chest tightening at his words. She wasn’t sure if he was praising her or setting her up for more flustered embarrassment, but either way, he was making her feel more guilty for going against her principles.

Her husband, on the other hand, looked utterly defeated. His shoulders slumped, and he cast his gaze to the floor.

“Fine.” He muttered, his tone laced with reluctance. “If…If that’s what happened.”

Nina’s husband then hesitated, his brows furrowing as he glanced between Nina and Kafka. His earlier anger was now tempered by something else entirely: confusion.

He couldn’t understand why someone as young as Kafka—practically a kid in his eyes—could radiate such an unnerving presence. There was something about him, something intangible yet suffocating, that made him wary, even terrified, to speak out of line again. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping briefly before flickering back up to Kafka, like he couldn’t decide whether to challenge or avoid him.

Kafka, ever perceptive, caught the hesitation and smirked. Leaning casually against the counter, he broke the silence with a tone so light it almost felt dismissive. “If you’re wondering who I am, I’m someone Nina here once proclaimed as her little brother.”

“Little brother?” The man blinked, visibly caught off guard.

“That’s right.” Kafka said smoothly, his smirk deepening. “The same little brother who’s been helping his dear older sister run this hot spring. Things got a little hectic for her today. So naturally, I stepped in to make her life easier.” He turned his gaze toward Nina, his expression unreadable but his tone laced with playful mischief. “Isn’t that right, Nina?”

Nina froze, her entire body stiffening. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest. Little brother.

At one time, it wasn’t far from the truth. When Kafka had first entered her life, his playful energy and youthful charisma had felt reminiscent of a younger sibling. She had even thought of him that way, scolding him and teasing him like an older sister would. But after everything they’d been through—the way he made her feel safe, the way her heart raced when he smiled at her, the way his mere presence turned her world upside down and the spicy moments they had with one another—it felt impossible to think of him as a “little brother” anymore.

And yet, with her husband and Kafka both staring at her, she felt trapped. The weight of Kafka’s teasing gaze, the silent urging in his expression, made her even more flustered. She swallowed hard, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her pants.

“Y-Yeah.” She finally stammered, her voice barely audible. “That’s…That’s right.”

Kafka’s smirk widened slightly, his expression softening ever so subtly. “See?” He said, his voice carrying a casual air of triumph. “I’m just the helpful little brother, doing what I can to support my sister. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The man’s frown deepened, his confusion growing. He looked between Nina, who was avoiding his gaze, and Kafka, who looked completely at ease, and felt the pit in his stomach tighten. His instincts told him there was more to this situation than met the eye, but the unspoken fear Kafka instilled in him kept him from digging deeper.

Nina, meanwhile, sat frozen, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and something she couldn’t quite place. ‘Little brother.’ She thought again, her heart sinking as the words rang hollow. It wasn’t that simple anymore, and the knot tightening in her chest reminded her of just how complicated it had all become.

Kafka’s smirk widened as he played with silver balls that had gone on one hell of a adventure, his sharp eyes fixed on the man in front of him. “Alright.” He said, his voice calm but tinged with playful mockery. “I think I’ve answered enough of your questions…Now it’s your turn, Mr Husband. Why exactly are you here?”

The man opened his mouth, but Kafka didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I mean, you’ve interrupted—” He paused, catching himself mid-sentence, and his smirk faltered for just a split second. ‘Interrupted what? My private time with Nina, your his wife I was going to start kissing again?’ That sounded all wrong, even in his head. He quickly adjusted, his expression smooth once again as he continued, “—a very busy day for her. So what’s so important that you couldn’t wait?”

The man’s brows furrowed, irritation flashing in his eyes. He grit his teeth, and for a moment, he looked like he was going to snap back.

But then his gaze met Kafka’s—those sharp, unrelenting eyes—and his bravado crumbled. He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers twitching at his sides.

‘Why does this kid make me feel like I’m staring down a predator?’

And finally after realising he didn’t dare to retaliate, his shoulders tensed, and with a faint huff of frustration, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of papers along with a pen.

“I need her to sign these.” He said, his tone curt. He glanced at Nina, avoiding Kafka’s gaze entirely. “Some accounting documents. It’s important, and I don’t have much time, so just sign it quickly.”

Seeing the papers that were handed to her, Nina reached for them, her expression calm, almost indifferent, as she took the pen from her husband’s outstretched hand.

Kafka watched as the papers were passed, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he wondered what exactly they were about. He was also expecting Nina to at least glance at the documents, maybe ask a question or two.

After all, Nina was the kind of person who cared about her reputation and business, someone who cared about what she put her name on. Surely, she’ll read it first, he thought.

But to his disbelief, she didn’t.

Nina simply nodded at her husband’s vague explanation, positioning the papers neatly in front of her without a second glance. Her pen hovered over the page, poised to sign as if it were a mere formality.

Kafka’s smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of confusion and something else—disbelief. ‘What is she doing?’ He thought, his mind racing.

Even her husband, standing across from her, looked visibly relieved, his earlier tension melting away. He practically leaned forward, eager to snatch the signed papers back as soon as the ink touched the page.