Rozalia's Devoted Netorase System

"Hurry up."

Rozalia locked eyes with me, her gaze urging me on. Entranced by that look, I lifted the lid of the box. It wasn't jewels or elixirs. A clump of mana floated into the air, scattering as sparkling dust. Golden, pink, violet. Intense, stimulating colors like the essence of magic swirled before my eyes. The light particles wandered aimlessly, like lost travelers, until our gazes met—then they plunged straight into my chest without hesitation.

"Hey…! What the hell is this? You gotta explain properly!"

Rozalia smiled sweetly. Her pale pink lips curved softly. The result of sleepless nights piecing together this world's hidden pieces by force. A devoted, love-filled creation made solely for him. Watching it settle back with its original owner, her eyes sparkled with overflowing happiness.

『I want you to live happily and joyfully in this world forever.』

A voice echoed in my ear like a hallucination. The desperate whisper, laced with scars from the past, faded faintly into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the distance.

A translucent blue window floated over my retina.

"……."

"Hey. You messing with me? What kind of terms go on forever?"

I clicked my tongue in disbelief.

"And what's this? 'Want to cuddle and sleep all day'? Am I your pillow now?"

Rozalia averted her gaze. She pouted exaggeratedly and whistled poorly.

"I dunno anything~? I just picked up some random hidden piece that was lying around~"

"It has your name plastered as the creator. Wanna die?"

(Creator) Rozalia von Bloomhart.

"Ahaha! Maybe it's an impersonator~? Who knows, I dunno nofin~!"

Her lisping dodge was ridiculous. I tsked my tongue and swallowed a sigh. That alluring beauty pulling off shameless aegyo made it impossible to stay mad. Damn this looks-obsessed romance-fantasy world.

Reluctantly, I hit agree on the endless unfair terms. A main window popped up announcing the tutorial.

A thrilling shiver raced down my spine. Ecstasy. An astonishing joy. My childhood friend had definitely played every bit of the 200GB hardcore Netorare ero-games I'd left behind. No other explanation for this insane concept.

Ero-game bad endings. Literal endings where the heroine's life shatters to the bottom. No resurrection possible—just devastating self-esteem destruction, pregnancies bloating the belly, turning into a pathetic flesh toilet as life goes straight to dogshit hell…

I loved that vulgar depravity, so… for a woman, it was pure hell.

Only. Tailored for male tastes, utterly sleazy and arousing. For her to step up and enact a fap-game's content herself.

"You seriously okay with this…?"

I asked, stunned.

"Vulgar Netoright? Ero-game bad endings—that's too far, right?"

"Think you can handle it? What if I run out now and command some no-name kid to knock you up, start a family?"

I tested her evasively, tossing it out casually.

"Oh, not my responsibility, of course? You made it let you do whatever."

Rozalia's eyes widened like a bunny's. Her dazed blinking pupils soon sparked with fire. Her face flushed beet red in an instant.

"Hey!!!!"

Her slender fists flew at me. Pow! Thud! Thud!

"Of course it's our responsibility!! It's what you wanted!"

She huffed fiercely, pounding my chest. Harmless cotton punches. Instead, she burrowed into my arms, rubbing against me, and giggles slipped out.

"If that happens, you. Take. Responsibility! Do it properly!"

I gently caught her flying fists.

"Phew… haa… Relax. I've got plenty of countermeasures. Rewind time or fix with other hidden pieces."

Rozalia cooled her flushed cheeks and gripped my hand back.

"So! Command away without holding back, you perv……."

A lump swelled in my chest. This woman throwing herself into my twisted Netorare fantasies. Where else in the world was there such a foolish girl?

This heavy bond from my past life—I had to hold it tight, even if it killed me.

I stared straight into her rapeseed-flower golden eyes.

"Thanks… for the gift. I love it."

I whispered sincerely.

"I really love it."

Love it. The moment those words dropped, Rozalia crumbled. A tomato ripe to the stem. Exactly that. Her spinning pupils halted abruptly, then—with a pop hallucination from her crown—white steam rose.

She bowed her head deep, hiding her overheated face, and pounded my chest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠harder than before. Pow! Thud! Thud!

"……."

The system is sharper than its creator.

"How the hell did you make this? It wasn't even in the original story."

At my probing tone, Rozalia grinned idiotically like she'd been caught.

"Mixed a few hidden pieces together… ehehe."

Sigh. Hopeless. Truly irredeemable woman.

With a light chuckle, I shifted my gaze to her status window hovering above Rozalia's head.

Ah. The status window's hot as fuck too. If I changed the title to 'Toilet Wife for Strays'… Karn von Mercier was on the verge of a nosebleed.

At that moment, the ballroom entrance door burst open roughly. A man in academy knight faculty uniform, still dusted with dirt from training, stood there. In his hand, a slightly crumpled bouquet unfit for the venue.

Kirian von Bloomhart. Rozalia's blood brother and this original world's sub-male lead. Known as the 'Ice Rose' for his cold eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and sharp judgment, he entered the ballroom today with an unusually flushed face.

'My sweet, fragile little sister. Finally overcoming that vicious illness to debut in high society today.'

Recalling Rozalia bedridden, pale and smiling weakly, Kirian's eyes still welled up. He'd secretly wiped tears at her safe academy enrollment too. He'd rushed here a month early to celebrate her debut.

But what greeted him wasn't the lively ball. A weird atmosphere. Blatant stares. Whispers. Kirian sensed instantly something was wrong.

He approached a familiar noble youth and asked urgently.

"Where's my sister? The ball seems nearly over."

The noble's face paled. Backing away, he stammered but clearly explained.

"W-well… Lady Bloomhart entered earlier… with an incredibly… um, voluptuous figure… and ran to some rural baron's son, sobbing into his chest… then they went into a locked private room together."

"……What?"

Kirian's mind froze. He doubted his ears.

'Our delicate Rozalia… voluptuous? Into a sealed room with a baron's rat?!'

Something snapped in his head. His cool, intellectual sub-male lead image shattered. Rage filled the void. His deep purple eyes rippled murderously. Pink hair slashed the air irritably.

"That filthy worm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dares touch my sister…!!"

Crack. The bouquet stem in his grip crumbled to bits. Ominous energy swirled around Kirian. The Bloomhart family's Rose Swordsmanship mana. Roses that would normally bloom beautifully now pulsed as blood-red killing intent.

The sharp malice that could slice air made nobles scream and part like the Red Sea.

"Wh-where are you going, Lord Kirian!"

Someone tried to stop him desperately, but it was futile.

"Out of my way."

He stomped forward, shaking the floor. His gaze fixed solely on the firmly shut private room door. Ready to smash it down and charge in. Like a beast lost to reason.

And inside that sealed room, oblivious to the approaching feral beast, Rozalia and Karn just giggled.