The Bare-Legged Reproach
The bluish light of dawn seeped through the window. The intense session of turbid energy emission (?) had ended, yet the air inside the room remained hot and damp.
"Mmm... nyaah..."
Karen was lost in a deep, dreamless sleep. Her bare white shoulder peeked out from under the blanket, and strands of golden hair rose and fell gently with each breath. The sheets were still damp from the fountain-like release of her turbid energy (?), but her expression was as serene as a saint's.
She really passed out cold.
Hans stood by the window, blinds drawn, letting the night breeze wash over him. The afterglow of his sage time lingered. He could still feel the texture of Karen's inner walls on his fingertips—the powerful contractions that had gripped his fingers, the scorching heat of the fluids that had soaked his palm.
If her fingers felt like that... what would happen if I put it in?
Hans glanced down at his crotch. After three rounds with Masa and then servicing Karen with his fingers, the damn thing still refused to rest and was already perking up again.
Next time... maybe I can actually put it in?
Since Karen was so convinced about the turbid energy emission, he could probably spin some excuse. Something like, "Fingers can't reach the deeper impurities. You'll need a thicker, longer rod of yang energy." That kind of nonsense.
Heh. It's crazy, but... it might actually work.
Hans was grinning to himself, lost in his own imagination, when he heard it.
Scratch. Scratch.
A faint sound. Not wind, not insects. Something was climbing the wall.
His eyes turned cold in an instant.
A rat?
He held his breath and pressed himself flat against the wall beside the window frame. Outside the second-floor window, a dark figure was scaling the pipes. A hooded head poked up. A large bundle was strapped to its back.
An assassin? No, that clumsy posture ruled out any real professional.
The shadow seemed delighted to find the window already open. It carefully gripped the sill and began to lift its head inside.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Hans's fist shot forward like lightning.
Thud—!
A sickening impact split the dawn air. Flesh and bone crushed together.
"Guh—?!"
The figure couldn't even scream properly. With its nose caved inward, it was flung backward by the recoil.
Whoosh—
Crash!!
The shadow plummeted from the second floor and slammed into the ground. The impact burst the bundle it had been carrying.
Shatter!
Glass shattered, and a purple mist billowed upward. Colorful scraps of fabric scattered in every direction.
"Aaaagh! My nose! My nooose!"
The man's screams echoed as he rolled on the ground.
The commotion woke Karen from her deep sleep. She blinked blearily.
"Wh... what happened? An enemy attack?!"
She instinctively reached for the sword she usually kept beside the bed—only to grab her own sweat-soaked panties instead. Her lower half was completely bare. Panicking, she wrapped herself in the blanket and tumbled out of bed.
"Hans! Are you all right?!"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just some rat trying to sneak in and falling off."
Hans shrugged casually. The two of them approached the window and looked down.
In the street in front of the inn, a man with a swollen, maskless face was writhing on the ground. Up close, it was unmistakably Leo, the deputy security chief. And surrounding him was a bizarre scene: women's underwear strewn everywhere—fishnet stockings, garter belts, thong panties, bras with holes cut out...
"That's... Deputy Leo?"
Karen's eyes widened.
Just then, the first-floor door burst open and Masa came running out. She, too, had clearly been woken by the noise; she wore only a thin slip with a shawl thrown haphazardly over it.
"Oh my, what is that smell? And what on earth is all this?"
The fabric was so full of holes that the scent had nowhere to linger. The aphrodisiac effect had long since evaporated into the air. Masa wrinkled her nose and snatched up a pair of panties. Tiny pink lace ones.
"Good heavens... we've got a pervert hanging around the inn."
She tossed the panties onto Leo's face with disgust, then spotted Karen—who had hurriedly dressed and come downstairs—and gave her a sly smile.
"But these are awfully small, aren't they? My butt wouldn't even fit halfway in. They look exactly like someone's size."
Her gaze locked onto Karen's hips.
Karen's face flushed crimson in an instant. The mockery aimed at her, combined with her subordinate's disgraceful behavior...
"Get up! You've dragged the security force's honor through the mud!"
"Aagh! C-Captain... it's not what it looks like..."
Leo tried to protest through his bloody nose, but the situation was damningly clear. A masked man caught red-handed trying to break into someone's room in the middle of the night while carrying an armful of women's underwear.
"No excuses!"
Security officers who had rushed over at the noise froze the moment they saw their captain and deputy. Leo with his face smashed in, women's lingerie scattered everywhere. In the end, Leo was dragged away by his own subordinates.
Hans clicked his tongue as he watched.
"Tsk tsk. So he was a pervert after all."
It was more than simple underwear theft—the items that had spilled out were far too dangerous. When he asked one of the officers about the broken bottle, the answer came back: aphrodisiac perfume. To Hans, who had no idea about any grand schemes involving a duke, Leo was simply branded as a vile sex offender who had even resorted to drugs.
Even if I'm a pervert, I'd never stoop to that kind of filthy crime, Hans resolved.
The noisy dawn passed, and morning arrived at the security force training grounds.
"Hah! Hup!"
Clear shouts of exertion rang out. Karen was swinging her wooden sword through her usual morning drills. The blade cut through the air with a sharp, heavy sound—nothing ordinary about it.
It's light.
Karen looked down at her hands. They felt impossibly light. This was the peak condition granted by extreme pleasure. Once her desires were satisfied, the tightly knotted muscles had loosened, and her brain flooded with endorphins. It was the same principle behind the well-known rumor among female athletes that having sex before a big match improved performance. The combination of physical relaxation and a placebo effect of "feeling stronger" had produced the result, but to the martial arts-obsessed Karen, this refreshing sensation was proof she had broken through a wall.
"There's heat gathering in my lower abdomen."
She gently cradled her stomach. In truth, it was only the lingering soreness from Hans's thorough exploration of her inner walls, but her delusional mind interpreted the tingling ache as the growing pains of an expanding mana core.
As expected... he was no ordinary man.
Karen wiped her sweat and looked toward the inn. Awe filled her eyes.
Hans. The true master who had cleared her blocked energy and guided her to a higher realm.
I need to... learn more.
Even the embarrassing, humiliating positions from last night were beginning to be reinterpreted as part of a sacred training process.
Karen gripped her wooden sword tightly. Her eyes burned with blind faith.
At the same time, at the Adventurer's Guild.
Creak.
Hans opened the old wooden door and stepped inside. The gloomy sight that filled the lobby greeted him.
"Hey, young fella! You're here!"
"Wanna go hunt slimes with us? I used to take down ogres back in the day, y'know."
Middle-aged adventurers with beer bellies and toothless veterans waved at him. Hans recoiled and shook his head.
Ah, seriously... is there no hope here?
Parties with cute young female adventurers? That only happened in thriving towns. The reality of rural Ludel was a cesspool. A den of sweaty middle-aged men.
He hurried toward the reception desk as if fleeing. There sat the only eye-cleansing sight—Eila.
"Eila! I'm here to—"
His greeting cut off abruptly. His gaze had locked onto the space beneath her desk.
"Huh...?"
They were gone. The stockings that always wrapped her legs were nowhere to be seen. Smooth, pale bare legs were exposed without any barrier.
Bare... bare legs?
Hans was stunned. To him, Eila's stockings were practically part of her identity.
"You're... not wearing stockings?"
he asked stupidly.
Eila didn't even look up from her papers as she replied coldly.
"No. I'm not."
"Why... didn't you wear them?"
At his clueless question, Eila's eyebrow twitched. She raised her head. Her eyes held a mixture of cold contempt and hurt. Yesterday, she had even packed him a lunchbox. After he had sucked on her legs like that, she had naturally assumed he would come again today. But Hans hadn't shown his face at all. Tired of waiting, she had thrown the lunchbox in the trash and sworn on her way home:
My legs? Don't even dream about them.
These bare legs were a protest. A silent warning that showing him her stockinged legs was already too good for the likes of him.
But Hans was thinking something completely different.
Is it hot today? Or is she doing laundry? Ah, maybe I licked them so much the threads came loose?
"Are you here for a request? If not, move along. I'm busy."
Eila snapped coldly.
Hans fidgeted restlessly around the reception area. Caught between the adventurers' leers and Eila's cold shoulder, his mental state was on the verge of shattering.
Just before lunch break.
Tap.
Eila irritably hung up the "Lunch Break – Away from Desk" sign. Then she glared at Hans and whispered.
"Come back once everyone's gone."
Hans stepped outside, waited until the adventurers inside had left for their meals, then returned. She led him to a storage room in the corner of the guild.
Click.
"Are you really an idiot? Or are you pretending not to know on purpose?"
Eila stood with her arms crossed, glaring at him.
Hans wore an expression of pure injustice.
"...Huh? What did I do wrong..."
At that moment, Eila's patience snapped.
"You were licking and sucking my legs like that, so why didn't you even show your face yesterday? Am I a joke to you?"
Her voice rose.
"I... even packed a lunchbox! For you! But you didn't come... and it all went cold, so I threw it away...!"
Her eyes grew moist. The usual cool beauty image had vanished, replaced by the face of a woman sulking from hurt feelings.
Hans finally understood the situation.
Ah... she was sulking.
Guilt washed over him.
"I-I'm sorry, Eila. Yesterday, I really..."
"Enough. I don't want to hear your excuses."
Eila sighed deeply and flopped down onto an old chair in the storage room. She pulled over the footrest and stretched both legs across it.
"Take responsibility. Until my mood improves."
She lifted her skirt slightly. Dazzlingly white thighs came into view.
"No putting it in today. Service me with your hands only."
"Huh? Service...?"
"Massage them. My legs hurt."