I lost my Copy System and awakened a Plundering System

"Thanks for saving us. We owe you one."

Draco's sullen mind was disturbed as he turned to see Brad clasping his hands together with a slight bow.

Draco looked at the group of five. Brad wore red armor, his sheathed sword at his side.

Behind him stood two men and two women. Brad, noticing Draco's gaze on them, said, "My name is Brad, the head of the Shadow Mercenaries."

"These are my colleagues: Dell, Sam, Ivory, and Flora," he introduced.

"Oh," Draco replied as he looked at them. From the system's appraisal:

- **Dell**, a warrior, was a black-haired young man with a sturdy build.

- **Sam**, a slim, brown-haired young man, was a double-element magician of earth and fire.

- **Ivory**, a slightly above-average beauty with black hair, was an illusionist, a unique class.

- **Flora**, a beauty in her own right, had golden hair and eyes. She was a half-angel, which was quite surprising. Her class was also unique—Seraphim.

As for their leader, Brad's class was Shadow Swordsman, a unique swordsman class.

"Uh, I think you should tend to your ladies. The tips of their ears are red, and their faces are red too. Maybe they've been poisoned."

Draco's words made both girls' faces turn completely red. They were embarrassed and a bit angry.

**Do you really have to say it?**

As for the boys, they were surprised by Draco's keen observation, coughing in shock.

The air turned slightly awkward.

**How could you say such a thing? Don't you know when a lady is blushing?**

The boys felt like saying this to him.

"Ahem! As I said, we owe you one," Brad said with an awkward smile.

Draco's eyes sparkled at this. "Then can you call those wolves back?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

Black lines appeared on their foreheads. They felt like beating him up.

"Oh, I forgot you're weaker than them," Draco muttered under his breath. His words were like arrows, piercing their hearts and delivering a crushing blow.

Their sore spot was struck. Their twitching expressions nearly brought laughter.

If Draco hadn't saved them and they hadn't witnessed the fear the Wolf Volkoid had for him, they might have thought he was purposely provoking them.

"Why are your expressions like that?" Draco asked, puzzled.

They silently recited prayers in their minds, trying to calm their raging hearts.

"Xylara, what's wrong with them?" he asked mentally, confused by their strange reactions.

Xylara was speechless at his question. "So you don't know?"

"Know what?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't worry," she replied, feeling a headache coming on.

Only Xylara knew that, due to certain issues, Draco had developed an illness called *Gerontophilia*—an attraction to older individuals of the opposite sex.

Draco's case wasn't extreme, as he was only attracted to people ten years older than himself. But surprisingly, she discovered that it had disappeared.

The only cure was for him to fall in love with someone younger than him, but that person would need years of persistence just to be noticed—let alone for Draco to fall in love.

She wondered who could possibly endure such a task for an average guy like Draco.

Yet, if someone managed to cure or indirectly cure him, Draco's attachment and love for that person would be absolute.

She prayed silently that the person would be a lady. Otherwise...

If Draco became a killing machine, that lady would be his greatest weakness.

She also prayed that this lady wouldn't turn out to be their enemy or a long-time foe—otherwise, it was finished.

---

"Mr... Mr..." Brad stammered, wanting to address Draco but realizing he didn't know his name.

"You can call me Draco," he said, understanding Brad's hesitation.

Ivory and Flora's eyes sparkled, glittering with stars. They had finally learned the name of this beautiful creature.

The boys, too, were impressed.

**What a valiant name!**

"Mr. Draco, sorry to ask, but where are your mercenary members?" Brad inquired.

The group thought Draco must belong to an S or legendary SS mercenary group. This was an opportunity to tie the knot with him—or rather, to hold onto his thigh.

Draco, hearing the question, raised his head and locked his gaze on Brad, who began sweating under the pressure of Draco's intense stare.

Even the others were sweating, silently blaming Brad for asking such a question.

It was time to recite their last prayers.

"Sorry, but what's the meaning of 'mercenary'?" Draco scratched his head with an embarrassed expression, his voice soft.

**PUCHI! PUCHI!**

K.O.

The two ladies fainted, blood running from their noses.

The boys coughed, trying to calm their unsettled hearts.

**If only he were a lady...** This thought crossed their minds.

After settling the girls, they managed to regain composure, their faces hot with embarrassment.

"Are you both okay?" The girls heard Draco's concerned voice. They turned to see his worried expression.

**PUCHI! PUCHI!**

Another K.O.

The boys were speechless at the scene.

**Why don't you three join a comedy show?**

Xylara appeared beside Draco, holding her small stomach as she floated, laughing uncontrollably.

"Hey, what's wrong with them?" Draco asked Xylara, confused by the situation.

"So you don't know?" Xylara was speechless, leaving Draco deep in thought. His expression was full of question marks.

Draco's understanding of relationships, girls, and their behavior was still woefully lacking.

**PUCHI! PUCHI!**

**K.O.**

The girl who had just woken up saw Draco's thoughtful face, only to faint again.

The boys were already looking at Draco like he was a contagious virus, subtly distancing themselves from him.

Even Xylara's laughing face turned solemn. While others didn't understand the reason for this, she knew all too well.

It was the work of Draco's absurdly high charm.

A dragon had its own charm, a phoenix had its own charm, and even a demon had its own.

All these charms had been concentrated in one person. You could imagine how overwhelming his charm would be—he was practically a lady-killer.

But this wasn't even his most fatal charm.

He still had a final class that remained unawakened for some reason. If it were awakened, he would likely be kidnapped by women—or worse, women would willingly line up to be his slaves.

"I wonder why master's luck is so much better than in his last life. A whole Dragon Goddess fell in love with an average guy and sacrificed herself to save him," Xylara sulked to herself.

"And those idiot bloodlines, whose heirs do nothing but chase women and have sex to grow stronger, only to eventually become gods," she snorted internally with anger.

"Mr. Draco, I think you should wear this," Brad said, holding out a black mask that gave off an eerie feeling.

"Appraise," Draco said.

---

**Weapon:** Shadow Mask (Upgradeable)

**Current Rank:** Gold

**Description:** A mask of a shadow demon that conceals your entire presence in the shadows. A powerful tool for assassination.

---

Draco felt a twinge of surprise at the word **demon.**

"Xylara, how does this compare to the Mask of Concealment?" Draco asked.

"It's a bit weaker," she answered.

"Then I don't need it," Draco chuckled.

"I think you do," Xylara interjected.

"Why do you say so?" Draco asked, confused.

He couldn't find any reason to wear the mask since he didn't plan to hide his identity.

Xylara facepalmed. "Do you want to be chased by thousands of women? You need to hide, not from enemies, but from admirers."

Draco felt shivers run down his spine as he imagined thousands of women chasing him relentlessly.

He shook his head. Better not to dwell on it.

"Why do you say so?" Draco repeated in a low tone.

Xylara began explaining the extent of his charm and the repercussions it could have, making Draco sweat.

Now he finally understood why Ivory and Flora had been acting so strangely.

"This mask is also one of the weapons of the Twelve Seats of Demon," Xylara continued.

All of this was said mentally, unnoticed by others.

Brad and his mercenary group observed Draco's face change multiple times as he processed the information.

"I wonder why you're giving me such a valuable treasure," Draco said, locking eyes with Brad. His voice carried a subtle pressure.

Brad, who had prepared a response for such a question, suddenly found himself at a loss for words under the weight of Draco's gaze.

"Then I owe you a favor," Draco chuckled, putting on the mask.

"How do I look?" he asked, raising his head.

Brad and the rest stared at him, feeling a sense of dread.

If they hadn't known Draco beforehand, they would have assumed he was a devil in human form.

His ruby-red eyes emitted a demonic aura, his presence was almost undetectable, and his voice sounded icy cold.

With the black cape or coat he wore, he looked like a demon incarnate.

Brad began to regret giving Draco the mask. No matter what Draco did, he seemed to draw attention.

"You look great, Mr. Draco," Brad said, forcing a smile, while the others nodded stiffly like robots.

"What's wrong with them?" Draco asked Xylara, who simply shook her head, indicating she didn't know either.

"Take me to the nearest city," Draco said.

The group led the way to the nearest city, explaining what a mercenary was along the journey.

The trip was uneventful, with no Volkoid attacks. Everyone knew the reason for this but chose to stay silent.

After about three hours of travel, a large city appeared in Draco's view.

People bustled in and out of the city gates, and he could see various races among them.

This was the first city Draco had seen since his rebirth.

"Welcome to Mercenary City, the second-largest city in Cerulean," Brad announced.