The headquarters building of Sumeragi Foods, a special conference room near the top floor.

Normally a place where executives gathered to hammer out management strategy, today it was enveloped in taut tension and an unnatural silence.

Even the faint hum of the air conditioning felt irritatingly loud.

Across a long mahogany table sat me, Akutsu Jō.

On either side of me, almost like guardians, sat Kujō Hibiki and Tennoji Karen.

At the head of the table, in the seat of honor, sat President Reiko Sumeragi, today’s intermediary for this interview, elegantly fanning herself.

“…So these are the candidates, huh.”

Following my gaze, on the opposite side of the table, three figures stood at attention.

All of them were dressed in jet-black suits that seemed to swallow light.

There was not a single unnecessary decoration.

Tight jackets and slacks designed purely for functionality.

Their eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, making it impossible to read any emotion.

Not a hair out of place, not even the sound of breathing could be heard.

It was as if three exquisitely crafted mannequins had been placed there.

“Yes. Allow me to introduce them.”

President Reiko puffed out her chest proudly.

“These are the elites that the Japanese branch of the world’s finest security company, Valkyrie Guard, boasts. Living ‘ironclad shields’ who have protected countless VIPs.”

At Reiko’s signal, the three saluted simultaneously.

There was not even a fraction of a second’s delay—their movements were so perfectly synchronized they were beautiful.

“From the left, ‘Niigaki,’ ‘Numazu.’ And on the far right, ‘Saotome.’”

I observed them in turn.

All three were Japanese women with black hair.

But their aura was far from ordinary.

‘Niigaki’ was large-framed, with a solid, judo-practitioner-like build.

Even through the suit, you could tell she wore a thick armor of muscle.

‘Numazu’ was small, but her center of gravity was low, her stance flawless like that of an old martial arts master.

And then the one on the far right—‘Saotome.’

She was probably around 175 centimeters tall, quite tall for a woman.

With long limbs like a model’s and a slender build stripped of all excess fat.

Her black hair was tied in a high ponytail, making the pale nape of her neck stand out.

The gaze I felt from behind her sunglasses was sharp as a razor.

“…I see. They look strong.”

As I muttered that, Hibiki placed her clasped hands on the table and fired off a cold question.

“Looks alone aren’t enough. Let me ask you something. If surrounded by a mob, what’s your priority?”

Immediately, the large woman called Niigaki answered.

“The survival of the protection target is the top priority. We do not consider our own injuries or the expansion of harm to civilians turned hostile. If necessary, we will not hesitate to use lethal force.”

Her voice was flat, like a machine’s.

No hesitation.

Or rather, it sounded as if the very function of hesitation had been removed.

“…Then if Jō were about to be kidnapped?”

Karen piled on with a mean-spirited question.

“If the perpetrator took hostages, or even if Jō himself resisted, could you still forcibly retrieve him?”

“Affirmative.”

This time, Numazu answered.

“Regardless of the target’s will, we will secure them in a safe zone. Even if it requires breaking the target’s limbs, our mission is to recover them alive.”

“…Eeh…”

That went beyond reassuring—it was just plain scary.

Don’t break limbs. Don’t.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?”

President Reiko nodded in satisfaction.

“As you can see, they are ‘machines’ without emotion. Personal desire and feelings are completely suppressed. To them, men are nothing more than ‘cargo to be protected.’”

Indeed, there wasn’t a shred of humanity in their answers.

Unlike the glittering, predatory lust that usually radiated from women when they looked at me, there was nothing of the sort coming from them.

“…Perfect. In theory.”

Hibiki said that, but her gaze remained suspicious.

“What do you mean by that, Kujō?”

“Because talking is easy. Reiko, you know too, don’t you? How deep and sinful women’s instincts in this world really are.”

Hibiki flicked a glance at me.

“The current Jō is a walking pheromone bomb. Seeing him in videos or photos and facing him in the flesh are on completely different levels.”

With eyes like a mad scientist enjoying an experiment, she fixed her gaze on the three candidates.

“Can that so-called ‘iron reason’ really hold up when faced with the real Jō? Is there any guarantee that, when it matters, they won’t go into heat and jump him?”

Her concern was valid.

How many supposedly rational women had lost all reason the moment they ate my cooking or saw my body?

We had to avoid a situation where the protector became the greatest threat.

“…I see. You do have a point.”

President Reiko nodded.

“Then shall we have them prove it? …Akutsu-sama, may I ask for your cooperation?”

“Huh? What do I need to do?”

“A resistance test. Please enter their personal space and verify whether their reason is genuine.”

With a sigh, I heaved myself up.

Good grief. I thought I was the one being tested, not the tester.

I stood, walked around the table and approached the three standing at attention.

The distance was about one meter.

As I got closer, I sensed the faintest movement of their eyes behind the sunglasses.

“Let’s start with you.”

I stood in front of Niigaki, the judo-type on the far left.

Deliberately using my usual blunt tone, I spoke.

“I might be trusting you with my back… Counting on you.”

I stepped one pace closer and placed my hand lightly on her well-trained shoulder.

That instant—

Niigaki’s body jolted violently.

From beneath her sunglasses, something trickled down.

Blood.

A massive nosebleed burst from her nose as if a faucet had been opened.

“…Th-the stimulation… is too strong…”

Murmuring deliriously, Niigaki quietly collapsed on the spot like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Hey!? Are you okay!?”

“Disqualified.”

President Reiko declared coldly.

Apparently, contact with me was a deadly drug to someone without immunity.

The phrase ‘lethal dose of pheromones’ flashed through my mind.

Next was Numazu in the center.

Seeing her colleague collapse, the small woman was clearly shaken.

I could hear her gulp.

I stood directly in front of her and leaned in.

Distance: 30 centimeters.

Close enough that my breath touched her.

I stared straight into her eyes.

Even through the sunglasses, I could tell—her pupils were shaking at high speed.

“…Hey. Is there something on my face?”

The moment I asked in a low voice—

“Aah!”

Numazu collapsed to her knees.

But she didn’t faint.

She knelt before me, clasped her hands and began praying with tears streaming down her face.

“So precious… so very precious! I can see a halo… a divine aura!”

With an ecstatic expression, she began chanting some incomprehensible prayer.

She was completely in a trance.

Not just a non-combatant—this was a fanatic.

“…I’m not interested in religious solicitation.”

I stepped back, exasperated.

“Reiko, isn’t this a total wipeout?”

Hibiki said, fed up.

President Reiko was fanning herself furiously, her face bright red.

“Th-that’s strange… I never imagined Akutsu-sama’s charm would surpass military training…”

That left one person.

Saotome, standing at the far right.

Even after watching her two colleagues fall in disgrace, she hadn’t twitched an eyebrow.

She simply fixed me with her gaze from behind her sunglasses.

“…Oh?”

I was intrigued.

This woman was different.

I stepped in front of her and closed the distance even further.

Just 10 centimeters.

A razor-thin gap where our chests might touch—or might not.

A faint, cool mint-like scent drifted from her.

I brought my mouth close to her ear and whispered in a low voice that resonated from my gut.

“…How about you? Looking at me, don’t you feel anything?”

It was deliberate.

A sticky, villain-like sensual provocation.

For a normal woman, this would result in either her legs giving out or her pouncing on me.

But—

“…”

Saotome didn’t move an inch.

Her breathing rhythm didn’t waver at all.

Slowly, but firmly, she placed her hand against my chest.

“…Target.”

Her voice was like a bell rolling, yet cold as ice.

“You are too close. Your presence obstructs visibility and interferes with situational awareness.”

Thump.

She lightly pushed my chest and created distance with businesslike efficiency.

“Unnecessary contact with the protection target is not recommended except in emergencies. Please step back.”

There was no embarrassment, no agitation, no affection in her words.

Only rational judgment for mission execution.

I had been processed as nothing more than an ‘object to be protected.’

Silence returned to the conference room.

I stared at her for a few seconds—then grinned.

“…You pass.”

I turned back toward President Reiko and the others.

“She’s good. I can trust her with my back.”

I heard Hibiki and Karen let out relieved breaths.

“…Good. With that level of unfriendly detachment, it’s reassuring.”

“More than that, she’s a refreshingly solid iron mask. No chance she’ll lay a hand on Jō.”

President Reiko also looked relieved, her honor preserved at last.

“As expected of Saotome! With her, there’s no doubt!”

Thus, the impromptu interview came to an end.

The unconscious Niigaki and the praying Numazu were carried out and the contract procedures with Saotome moved forward.

* * *

Several tens of minutes later.

All procedures complete, Saotome left the conference room ahead of us.

We remained behind to discuss future arrangements, leaving her alone in the empty hallway.

Click, click, click…

Walking with the steady sound of her heels, Saotome turned a corner and entered a blind spot beyond anyone’s view—

Thunk.

Her knees gave out and she braced herself against the wall.

“…Hah… hah…”

The cold, detached expression from earlier was gone.

She tore off her sunglasses.

Her exposed face was red to the tips of her ears, like a boiled octopus.

“…Th-that was close…”

Clutching her chest tightly, she took ragged breaths.

“I thought my heart was going to stop… That… was cheating…”

Her heart was pounding like a drum, on the verge of bursting.

In truth, she too had been right at the limit.

She had merely endured it through years of training in maintaining a poker face and sheer grit, clenching her back teeth with everything she had.

“…Whispering in my ear… are you trying to kill me…”

With teary eyes, Saotome pressed her forehead against the wall.

From now on, she would have to stay by the side of that living pheromone every day.

For her, it marked the beginning of a mission so harsh it could be hell—or heaven.