Episode 35 - Breakdown
What the hell could I even do? In this fantasy world, saddled with the title of Demon King, yet unable to cast a single spell—not that I even knew any, and even if I did, this worthless body lacked the mana to use them. What could someone like me possibly accomplish? Short in stature, with limbs as frail as twigs, unable even to lift anything heavy, struggling just to walk under the burdensome weight of these ridiculously huge breasts, panting and out of breath—what the fuck could I do?
I racked my brain for anything I might be capable of, pride be damned, groveling here in the corner just to survive. Because I'd woken up in someone else's body, because I hadn't adapted to this world yet, I knew nothing, had nothing to tell him. And so, even as I begged, it hit me: I'm truly useless. Even if the hero discarded me, even if the people seized the abandoned me and raped me repeatedly, ripped out my nails, gouged out my eyes, tore out my hair, snapped my fingers, severed my limbs, yanked out my guts, cut my Achilles tendons so I couldn't walk, sliced my wrists so I couldn't grip a fist, ripped off my ears, burst my eardrums, tore off my nose, shattered my bones, flayed my skin while I was still alive—even if I begged to be spared, screamed to be killed, suffered endless agony until I burned to death—there was nothing I could do about it.
I hate it. I hate it. I'm scared, save me. It wasn't me. I didn't kill anyone. So it's not my fault. It was just coincidence that they were demons and magic beasts, just my own kind. It wasn't me. I'm innocent.
But no one would believe me if I shouted it. Still, the desperate wish that they might, this craving, showed no sign of fading amid the terror. Clutching my trembling body, swallowing tears, I begged in a quivering voice.
“P-please… spare me… don’t abandon me. I don’t want to die… It wasn’t me… I didn’t kill anyone… Please. Please.”
Even to my shaking pleas, the hero’s words remained ice-cold.
“…Seeing you suddenly grovel like this, it’s safe to assume you know nothing, right?”
Ah. So that’s how it was. But I had no retort. Dragging it out would only reveal my emptiness sooner, and the retaliation that followed terrified me. So I’d just claim ignorance and beg for a chance. Rub my hands raw pleading for mercy, gulp down tears, and spit out the words.
Going out there meant death. Not a quick one, but endless violation right up to the brink, toyed with and broken until they grew bored, then burned alive. That horror forced me to beg.
“Hah… Then forget dragging you along in a carriage for a week—I’ll just leave you here.”
“Th-that’s…!”
“Honestly, what good are you? You know nothing, can’t carry loads, can’t fight by my side. You’d just eat rations and stand around like an idiot. Why should I keep you?”
“Ah, aaah…”
No. Please, don’t. The hero’s words rang true. Useless as a porter or informant, I was nothing but a burden to protect. Why should he? There was no reason. Naturally, his decision led to discarding me.
No time to space out. I frantically rolled my eyes, scrambling for any way to survive. But how? How could I prove my worth to the hero? I knew nothing. Was weak. Just dead weight. Why?
I clamped my mouth shut. Gnashed my teeth. How do I avoid being thrown away? Grimacing, I wracked my overheated brain harder than ever before. Find a way to live. Please, lend me some wisdom. Maybe a hint hid in his words.
Hah, hah. As my ragged breaths escaped, words I’d overlooked resurfaced. Porter, sex slave, informant. Fulfill one, and he’d let me go? But I… Well, if I didn’t, death would come quick. Refusing meant instant abandonment, violation, a slow death. Choosing the worse over the bad was idiotic.
“We’re done for today. Tomorrow, when I leave the room, figure it out yourself…”
“……”
Before he could finish, I squeezed my eyes shut, fumbling with the buttons and ties securing my cloak. Baring myself before another was mortifying. But it was the only answer. Yielding to a man, being mounted—disgusting beyond words. But no other way.
Save me. I don’t want to die. Don’t want to be abandoned, raped by strangers, toyed with until death.
“…What are you doing?”
“P-please… I’ll do… anything…”
Revolting. I didn’t know why I had to, but it was the only path, I told myself. Endure the nausea. To escape or whatever later, survival came first.
I crawled forward awkwardly. Begged to live. But not knowing his expression frustrated me. My heart pounded like it might burst; maybe dying now would be easier.
“I-I’ll do it. I know nothing, can’t porter, but… I’ll do something else. Please.”
“Cut the bullshit! Who’d embrace a slave puking after one go?!”
I crawled to his bed, pleading desperately, but he shoved my body away and bellowed. But it was too revolting—what could I do? Forced upon by a man, anyone would react—even if not me, any woman.
Not the time for complaints. Barely moving nude, I lightly grasped his foot, using it as leverage to lean my upper body against his leg.
“I’ll try hard… don’t abandon me… Please, if you do, I’ll die. Better I serve you… just abandon me in the Demon Realm…”
I begged desperately. To avoid death, I chose the path to survival. But his face twisted worse.
“Abandoning you in the Demon Realm is just ‘spare me,’ right? No reason to take you there anyway.”
“Y-you don’t have to carry me. Please.”
I went all-in. Eyes shut tight, thinking two times already, endure a couple more. Dropped in the Demon Realm, I could find other demons, survive. Avoid humans who loathe us. Live with my kind.
But his response shattered expectations.
“…Do it with your mouth right now, and I’ll consider.”
“…With my mouth?”
Not immediate violation—relief or worse disgust? I couldn’t decide. Staring shakily, he looked down like take it or leave it.
His cock… in my mouth? Hesitation gripped me. I thought I’d resolved, but realized my resolve was shallow. Staring blankly upward in dismay.
“If not, forget it.”
“Ah, ah…! J-just embrace me, don’t…”
“No, I want to see your resolve. You’re just planning to lie there passively.”
Damn. Disgusting.
“Get on the bed.”
“N-no, I hate it. I hate it. I’ll stay on the floor. Please, don’t abandon me. I’ll do good here.”
Bed—no. No no no, scary. Don’t. Leave me alone. Let me stay on the floor. Please. I pleaded earnestly. He sighed, nodding curtly.
“Then do your best.”
Relieved, I fumbled hastily at his legs to pull down his pants. Hands clumsy from pounding heart, even worse. Insane. Why was I doing this? Only thought: seize this chance to live. Gripping sanity tight.
With his reluctant help, belt undone, pants and underwear down, I faced his cock. Unerect yet massive; the sight and stench hit, nausea surging instantly.
“Ugh.”
“Hate it? Stop.”
“N-no, haha, it’s f-fine.”
Forcing a smile, lips twitching upward. Trembling hands grasped it. I want to die. Nausea choked me. Breathless. Flashbacks assaulted: violations, this thing piercing me—face paling like bleached hair.
What is this? Why must I mouth it? To live. Or tomorrow, abandoned in this city. Right, but why this? Can’t porter or inform, so inevitable? But why me sucking it? Why why why why why.
Hands shook uncontrollably. Couldn’t touch. Bed with him sitting froze me, mind blanking.
Stomach knotted despite scant food; agony nearly drew tears. Frozen, trembling, he grabbed my hair, yanking down.
“Won’t do it? Quit. Hate seeing you sniveling in fear.”
“N-no! I-I don’t know how…! N-not scared…!”
“Can’t even climb on bed, not scared?”
Speechless. True, I was terrified. Rape memories revived, sensations lingering, tormenting. Please don’t. No need for bed for me. Right? Why offer a slave like me the bed? Never seen such a revolting place. You lie there. Please. I’ll crawl on floor—just ignore me. Climbing’s torture. Don’t dredge rape memories. Who’d like that?
Frantic, trembling hands gripped his cock. Hairs, foul warmth beyond unpleasant texture. Irritated scowl, he seized my arm gripping it.
Lifted powerless, I quivered, staring at him.
“Get on.”
Body yielded to his strength, hauled onto bed.
“Hah, hah.”
Instantly, heart thundered, breaths ragged. Vision blurring, soul detaching. Hah, hah. Flailing hands clutched sheets desperately, gasping air. Lungs maxed yet terror screamed for more, hyperventilating. Vision darkening. Mind blanking, forgetting his presence.
One hand crushed sheets, other nails raking breast viciously. Jagged from torn nails, sharp pain flashing brain. Calming like scratching itch, I scraped relentlessly.
“Uwaaaah! Aaaah!”
Screams distant; frustration peaked, bellowing full force. Then, arm scraping breast halted by hand, cheek burning with pain. Ears ringing, vacant eyes stared ceiling.
“This is why I’m throwing you out.”
Regaining senses, cold voice pierced ears.