Chapter 656: Who’s Ass Is Better?!

As Mika padded down the hallway toward the bedroom, the voices reached him before the sight did.

"I’m telling you, he’ll choose mine! Just wait and see—mine’s obviously the best!"

"No way! He’ll definitely pick mine! Little brother has always loved mine the most, and I even have all these fluffy tails as a bonus!"

"You’re both completely wrong. He’s going to choose me. I have the perfect balance of everything—size, shape, proportion. It’s not even a contest."

Mika paused mid-step, his brow furrowing in confusion.

’What in the world were they arguing about now? And what exactly am I supposed to be choosing?’

He rounded the corner and stepped into the bedroom.

And immediately understood everything.

He wasn’t looking at Anya’s face, or Astrid’s face, or Charlotte’s face.

He was looking at their asses!

All three sisters had arranged themselves on the sprawling bed, kneeling with their backs arched, their rear ends thrust high into the air like offerings to some ancient god of fertility.

White bathrobes clung to their curves, the fabric thin enough to reveal every contour of what lay beneath.

Charlotte’s ass was the thickest of the three—pure succubus heritage on display, plump and heavy and luscious. The kind of ass that would recoil if you slapped it, bouncing back against your palm with indecent enthusiasm.

It matched the rest of her body perfectly: excessive, shameless, and utterly hypnotic.

Anya was the middle ground.

Not too big, not too small. That elusive sweet spot of perfect proportion, the kind sculptors spent lifetimes trying to capture.

It sat high and proud on her frame, the ideal balance between athletic tone and feminine softness.

Astrid, meanwhile, was the enigma.

Her waist was impossibly narrow, almost fragile-looking and then it flared into an ass that belonged to an entirely different realm.

Round. Firm. Plump in a way that defied the architecture of the rest of her body.

The sheer contrast between that tiny waist and that magnificent rear was intoxicating to look at.

And her seven silver tails fanned out above it all, swaying hypnotically left and right in perfect synchronization with the subtle wiggle of her hips.

Mika caught himself staring.

He stared for far longer than was appropriate.

Finally, he shook himself out of his trance and cleared his throat.

"What exactly is going on in here?"

He asked, walking toward the bed with forced casualness.

"Is this some kind of new yoga routine I should know about?"

Charlotte’s cheerful voice answered immediately.

"No, silly! We’re having a competition!"

"A competition?" Mika repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"To see whose butt is the best!" Charlotte wiggled her hips, making her ass jiggle enticingly. "We were arguing about which one you’d choose, so we decided to settle it properly. All three of us are presenting, and you just have to tell us which one you looked at first!"

"That’s right!" Astrid nodded enthusiastically, her tails waving from side to side. "The winner is whoever’s ass catches your eye first. It’s a completely fair competition!"

Anya looked back over her shoulder, pushing her glasses up with one finger.

"So? Which one is it, Mika? Which one did you look at first?"

Her eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"It was mine, right? My juicy, plump ass that you love to play with all the time?"

Charlotte immediately pouted.

"No way! It’s definitely mine! You’re always sneaking glances at my butt, Mika—I’ve caught you staring so many times!"

Astrid protested loudly, her tails bristling.

"It has to be mine! I have my beautiful tails as a bonus! I’ve got the fur and the ass—nobody can compete with that combination!"

"Mine!"

"No, mine!"

"Shut up, it’s mine!"

The three sisters dissolved into bickering, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of competitive fervor.

And for a moment, Mika was transported back to when they were all children, fighting over who got to sit next to him at dinner and who got to hold his hand during walks.

’Nothing had really changed, had it?’

They were still the same three sisters—competitive, passionate, utterly devoted.

But this was also exactly why he wanted everyone in the family to be his, not just one or two. If he isolated any of them, the rivalry would turn ugly.

SSS-class potential, all of them.

If they ever truly turned against each other over him, they wouldn’t just argue. They’d wage wars.

They’d destroy realms. A scene like this was only wholesome because all three of them were included.

Take one away, and it became a catastrophe waiting to happen.

He cleared his throat. Then he reached out and rested a hand on Astrid’s ass, then Anya’s—feeling them up with slowness until both girls let out flustered little sounds.

"Well." He said. "If you’re asking which one I saw first..."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"Charlotte. It was definitely Charlotte."

Charlotte’s face lit up with triumph.

"See?! I told you! I told you it would be my ass! It has to be—"

But Mika cut her off with a smirk.

"Although." He continued. "It’s not because of its ample size."

He gave her ass a light smack from the side, watching the way her cheeks jiggled from the impact.

"It’s actually because..." He leaned closer, examining her backside with exaggerated scrutiny. "...I think you sat on the triple-layered chocolate cake from room service."

"It...looks like you’ve completely shit yourself."

"What?!"

Charlotte scrambled to look over her shoulder, her hands flying to her bottom. And sure enough, there it was—a dark, creamy stain spreading across the white fabric of her robe!

It looked exactly like she’d had a very unfortunate accident.

"No Mika! Don’t look! Don’t look!"

She fled toward the bathroom, her protests echoing behind her.

Astrid giggled, her tails wagging with amusement.

"Serves her right for being so confident!"

Anya smiled, adjusting her glasses with a satisfied air.

"So now that Charlotte’s out of the running...whose ass did you see first, Mika? Mine or Astrid’s?"

"Me!" Astrid said quickly. "It was obviously me! Little brother can never resist my tails!"

"Don’t be ridiculous." Anya scoffed. "It was clearly mine. My proportions are perfect—mathematically, aesthetically, in every—"

"Both."

They stopped. Turned. Stared at him.

"Both?" Anya’s eyes narrowed. "That’s not possible. You can’t look at two things at the same time. Stop making excuses and just pick."

"She’s right, Mika." Astrid nodded solemnly. "We can handle the truth. Even if it’s not me."

She said this with the expression of someone who absolutely could not handle the truth and was already preparing to be devastated.

Mika shook his head. "I promise you, I saw both at the same time. I have two eyes, don’t I? The left one went toward Astrid. The right one went toward Anya. Simultaneous. Equal."

Astrid frowned. "That’s not how eyes work, little brother. Unless you’re cross-eyed or something."

"Oh, really?"

Mika’s gaze, which had been fixed forward, suddenly shifted.

His left eye rotated toward Astrid.

His right eye swiveled independently toward Anya.

Both movements happened in perfect isolation, each eyeball operating on its own axis, creating an expression so deeply unsettling that both sisters physically recoiled.

"See?" Mika said, his voice perfectly calm despite his face having transformed into something that belonged in a nightmare. "Told you."

"Stop it!" Astrid covered her eyes with both hands. "Don’t look at me like that! That’s so creepy—Mika, stop!"

Even Anya looked uncomfortable, her usual composure cracking.

"Please stop that, Mika. You look like some kind of alien right now. You’re going to ruin your handsome face."

But Mika just chuckled, snapping his eyes back to their normal positions.

"Fine, fine. But even without that, I can still appreciate both of you at once."

Before either sister could react, he reached out and grabbed Astrid’s waist with one hand, then Anya’s waist with the other.

"Like this." He said, pulling them together until they were side by side on the bed.

Then he dove forward, burying his face directly between their asses.

"Or like this!" His muffled voice came from between their cheeks.

Both sisters squealed, squirming as he nuzzled deeper into the soft flesh surrounding him.

"Mika! Stop! That tickles!"

"Little brother, what are you doing?!"

He was too far gone to stop.

The fragrance of Astrid’s floral shampoo scent enveloped him as he nuzzled deeper.

Meanwhile, his other cheek was pressed against Anya’s left side, and she smelled different—darker, muskier, with an undertone of something that made his head spin.

"The perfect sandwich." He mumbled, his voice muffled by flesh. "Two buns, one patty. And I’m the patty."

"You’re ridiculous." Anya said, but she didn’t push him away. Her voice had gone slightly breathy.

"What’s going on out here—"

Charlotte had returned, fresh robe in place, and froze at the sight of Mika with his face wedged between her sisters’ rear ends.

"LET ME IN!"

She didn’t wait for permission. She launched herself onto the bed and crouched directly over Mika’s head, then dropped her full weight, smashing her ass against the back of his skull.

"Take that! Take my plump ass right to your face!"

And now Mika was truly submerged.

Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!

Two cheeks pressing in from the sides, one descending from above.

Rose-scented fabric. Chocolate-tinged fabric. And a furry musk. Three different fragrances, three different textures, all of them smothering him in the most divine way possible.

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t move.

And yet, somehow, he had never felt more alive.

—

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, he managed to roll away, emerging from the pile of feminine flesh with his hair disheveled and his face flushed.

He collapsed onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed expression.

The three sisters gathered around him, their faces hovering above his own like a trio of concerned angels.

"So?" Charlotte asked eagerly. "Whose ass did you like the best?"

"Yeah, tell us!" Astrid demanded. "You have to choose now!"

Anya pushed up her glasses, her eyes gleaming. "We’re waiting, Mika."

Mika’s first instinct was to say Nadia. The woman he’d been playing with earlier who possessed the fattest, most magnificent cheeks in the entire family.

Her ass jiggled for a full ten seconds when slapped, and the thought of it now made his mouth water.

But he valued his life too much to say that.

Instead, he did something unexpected.

He rolled over, presenting his own rear end to the three sisters.

"Honestly?" He suggested. "I think my own ass is the best one here. I’ve been working on my glutes recently, and I have to say—the results speak for themselves."

The sisters stared at him in disbelief.

"Are you serious right now?" Charlotte demanded.

"Stop deflecting!" Astrid added.

But then they looked at Mika’s ass, and their protests died in their throats.

Because damn it, he wasn’t wrong!

His posterior was compact but well-defined, the muscles firm and shapely beneath the fabric of his pants. It was the kind of ass that spoke of discipline and training, of hours spent honing his body to perfection.

The sisters found themselves staring.

Anya’s lips parted slightly, a thin trail of drool threatening to escape.

Charlotte’s cheeks flushed.

Even Astrid’s tails began to wag involuntarily.

Mika felt a sudden chill run down his spine. The way they were looking at him...there was something predatory in their eyes, something that made his survival instincts scream warnings.

He sat up quickly, clearing his throat.

"So!" He said, his voice a little too bright. "What were you all talking about before I came in? Did I miss anything interesting?"

Charlotte leaned back, stretching in a way that emphasized her generous cleavage.

"Nothing too important." She said casually. "We were just reminiscing about the Purge and the stuff from back then. You know, light conversation."

Mika’s eyes flickered to those white, plump, impossibly thick mountains that seemed to defy gravity before he forced himself to focus.

"Right." He said dryly. "Just casual chitchat about mass murder. Very normal."

Astrid shifted thoughtfully.

"It’s strange, isn’t it? We talk about all those incidents from the past so easily now, like they’re distant tales from another lifetime. But back then, we were all so panicked. So scared."

She smiled softly.

"Time really does change things."

"That’s a good thing, though, isn’t it?" Anya nodded in agreement. "The fact that we can joke about it now means we’ve healed. We’ve moved past it."

But Charlotte crossed her arms, her expression contemplative.

"Well...there was one person who never seemed too affected by any of it. No matter what happened, she stayed calm through everything."

The sisters exchanged knowing glances.

They all knew exactly who Charlotte was talking about.

The Maiden of Fate’s daughter.

The girl in the wheelchair who never seemed surprised by anything, who maintained her composure even when the world was falling apart around her.

While the mothers had been breaking down, terrified of losing their children, she had been the one calming everyone else, offering reassurances, helping them make decisions.

"She really is a strange one." Charlotte said with a slight shiver.

Anya nodded.

"She always seems to know things before they happen. Like she can see the future, but she never tells anyone what she’s seen."

Astrid agreed.

"It’s impossible to get one over on her. She’s always five steps ahead."

Mika kept his own thoughts on the matter to himself.

"I’m sure she has her reasons." He said simply.

Charlotte nodded slowly, then seemed to think of something.

"Hey, Mika...there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I know it’s in the past, and I should have brought it up sooner, but..."

She hesitated, her expression uncertain.

"Can you tell me what happened to Marcus?"