Show Me Your Panties
Religion counts lust among the seven deadly sins, a vice to be guarded against at all costs.
The root of all evil, they say. Those who commit it can never enter heaven.
People's attitudes about it were every bit as harsh as you'd expect.
I came from a Confucian country that claimed to inherit the spirit of its scholars—a country so prudish its National Assembly once passed a regulation declaring that even saints shouldn't be allowed to watch adult videos. So believe me, I knew better than anyone.
And yet, I maintained that lust was not a sin, but a perfectly normal physiological function.
'Every single person on this planet was born because of sex—so why does everyone act so squeamish about it? Honestly, I don't get it.'
Moderation. Fine. Great, even.
Even I felt secondhand embarrassment watching people who couldn't read a room and threw themselves at anyone in reach.
Humans and beasts are the same animal, and yet one reason we insist on drawing a line between us is precisely that rational thought. If you surrender yourself entirely to instinct, you might as well look like a beast to everyone else. Fair enough.
But what if that's what I wanted?
What if my body was simply designed that way from the ground up?
Find a mate, have children, multiply, and flourish. If that's the ultimate goal of life itself, then being condemned for pursuing something so obvious and so natural was nothing short of sad.
[Writer] So what exactly is your point here?
"That there is nothing—nothing—wrong with me admiring Marin's panties."
[Writer] You have such a lovely habit of carefully gift-wrapping your bullshit, don't you?
The Writer skewered me without mercy, but I couldn't have cared less. My eyes were locked on the little slice of paradise unfolding before me.
"Is this fun for you? Watching, I mean."
"Very fun. My shoulders are bouncing with joy. I genuinely feel grateful to have been born."
The most beautiful girl in the region, on a public street, holding up her skirt and showing me her underwear. This scenario wasn't just titillating—it felt like a transgression of something sacred.
Any other woman would have gone red in the face and then kicked the man ogling her lower half into next week. But she simply stood there with an indifferent expression, keeping her skirt hem lifted the entire time.
The same pristine white I'd seen in the shop.
Simple cotton panties with a crisp triangular silhouette, no frills, no ornamentation—just clean, honest design. Against skin so pale it looked drained of color, the thin fabric clung tight over her most private place, faintly translucent, pressing into the flesh and carving out the unmistakable crease of an axe.
She was a naive, innocent girl utterly ignorant of carnal matters, and as if she couldn't fathom what it meant for a girl to show a man her underwear, she watched me observe her with lively curiosity.
"Why do you like this stuff?"
"Hmm, hard to give you a quick answer. I like what I like. Explaining it would ruin the mystique."
"I don't... understand it. Grandfather said I'd figure it out on my own, someday."
If anyone else had said that, I would have patted their shoulder and told them everyone's different. But knowing full well she was nothing like an ordinary person, I offered silence instead of hollow consolation.
[Writer] Reader, don't you think it's time to stop looking? You're going to drool yourself dry at this rate.
"This kind of scenery is something you savor every chance you get, and then again whenever the chance returns."
[Writer] Please, PLEASE have some consideration for the person being forced to watch it with you! What if somebody else sees us like this?!
"Relax. Nobody's going to notice a thing."
A star obscured by light. Marin possessed the authority to hide her very existence from the world, but since she hadn't mastered it yet, she couldn't switch it off and simply kept it running at all times.
Only those capable of piercing through that authority—people she might have chosen for herself—could see her at all.
So even though I was groping with my eyes in broad daylight, the people around us just cast puzzled glances at me sitting cross-legged in place; not one of them took me for a pervert.
Still, lingering in one spot too long could invite suspicion, so it was probably wise to wrap things up around here.
[Writer] Reader.
"Don't rush me. Just one minute. One minute, and we'll go."
[Writer] No—go ahead. Look as long as you like. Freely. Leisurely. All of it.
"Our Writer granting me leniency? That's actually kind of touching."
[Writer] Whether you stare for one minute or one hour, the outcome won't change one bit. We're already sunk, so you might as well enjoy the view.
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"
Sarcasm and self-pity tangled together in that one message. Wondering what had gotten into her, I tilted my head—
"Hey."
"...Huh?"
A voice saturated with killing intent. A familiar tone, thick with loathing.
I'd heard it to death in the lecture hall just today. There was no way I couldn't recognize it.
And precisely because I recognized it, a chill ran down my spine.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"..."
A sinister blade hovered at my throat, its gleaming edge baring sharp teeth as if it would split my neck open at any second.
Stay calm, Solis. Remember—it's easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
Probably not the right situation for that particular wisdom, but either way: be honest, and apologize for the mistake.
"I asked you what you're doing!"
"I was looking at her panties."
Shwick!
'Oh, shit!'
A horizontal slash split the air. In that instant, I ducked my head and slipped beneath it.
In exchange, a chunk of the golden hair growing from my scalp was sheared away, drifting down to the ground like a fallen leaf.
"So close. Another beat of delay and your head would've come off with it."
"You were actually trying to cut my head off? Huh?"
I'd even spoken politely, mind my manners—and yet the heartless Chloe swung her blade at me without a flicker of hesitation.
"You're the one pulling this crap in the middle of the street! Desecrating a student in the sacred halls of the Academy—how dare you."
Chloe resheathed her katana and dropped into a draw stance. Dark mana churned and raged violently inside the scabbard.
"We're fighting again? Doesn't that ever get boring for you?"
I drew my mana up and sheathed my whole body in it.
Wasting mana so recklessly against Hostil had left me a little worn, but I still had more than enough strength left for a running battle.
"Die."
The words had barely left her lips before Chloe stepped forward with her right foot and drew her sword in one motion.
The instant the blade cleared the sheath, a sword wave steeped in black mana came rushing at me.
The Opal House swordsmanship handed down to Chloe by her father, the Sword Saint—a spiral blade of pure honesty, flying straight and true.
I answered the spiraling sword strike as it came hurtling at me with a fist loaded to the brim with mana. Golden light gathered, searing heat compressed and condensed into a dazzling flash as I hurled my straight punch.
Whoosh!
"Wha—?"
"No. Fighting is bad."
Marin stopped me.
Her hand touched my fist, and the mana wrapped around me swirled and spiraled, sucked in around her palm as if down a vortex. Like a vacuum cleaner swallowing dust, my strength was drained to the dregs in an instant.
"Wha—?!"
Marin's interference came from a completely unforeseen direction. I froze in place, utterly flustered.
'Too late—!'
In that brief hesitation, Chloe's sword wave had closed the distance to my throat.
There was no dodging it now.
I hurriedly dragged my mana back up, but it was futile. At this rate, I was going to—
"C-C-Chloe!"
At that moment, someone screamed Chloe's name until their voice nearly tore.
So loud it rattled my eardrums. And simultaneously, the sword wave homing in on my throat froze mid-motion.
As if the very flow of time had ground to a halt.
'This is... Time Freeze.'
The authority to halt a designated target's time and place it under one's control. In this entire world, only a single soul could wield this power—and I turned toward the voice.
"Wh-what if you just suddenly swing a sw-sword at someone? You scared me half to death..."
A timid, shrinking voice—but her actions were anything but.
Unlike on the walking path, she wasn't wrapped in a blanket this time, yet I knew exactly who she was.
Tousled white hair. A disheveled school uniform. A voluptuous chest straining so hard against her white blouse it seemed ready to burst through. With an appearance and outfit utterly devoid of composure, she clutched a wooden staff, barely keeping her trembling body upright.
Her amethyst eyes, brimming with tears, spun round and round as if mirroring the chaos of this situation.
Eva Amethyst.
The protagonist of Academy Yuri Princess. The savior this world had chosen.
She had saved me!
'That was way too close.'
I had come within a hair's breadth of unleashing the Halo. Far better than losing my life, sure—but pulling that thing out inside the Academy right now would have thrown everything into absolute chaos, so I was genuinely relieved.
"Why did you just absorb my mana out of nowhere?"
"Fighting is bad. Grandfather says to stop things like this."
Her grandfather—that priest, then.
'He was a pacifist, that's true.'
Having read the original novel, I knew who he was. He was no longer a person of this world, so any mention of him ended there—but I'd caught glimpses of him here and there in Marin's flashbacks.
"I get what you're saying, but I nearly died just now because of it. It was terrifying, okay."
"It's fine. Marin saw the future. That person will stop it."
The Prophecy of the Star.
When she said she'd used her authority, I shut my mouth tight. Right—she'd already confirmed the outcome, so what more was there for me to say?
"Still, my poor heart nearly gave out. Tell me, what am I supposed to do about this emotional wound of mine?"
"I will... pay it back. Grandfather says if you harm someone, you must repay them."
"Then later, let me touch your chest."
"Okay."
Negotiation complete.
I grabbed Marin's hand and shook it, sealing the contract. Winning over the innocent with sympathy and getting exactly what I wanted—success.
[Writer] You cock-brained piece of shit...!!
'So—what should I do next?'
Ignoring the chat the Writer had fired at me, I looked around.
I'd made such a spectacular mess of things that this whole area had turned into a war zone.
"Let go, Eva! I'm going to kill that bastard!"
"Eeeeek, nooo, please!"
"What are those people over there doing?"
"Did a fight break out or something?"
The original protagonists were raising a ruckus, and drawn by the commotion like waves to shore, a sea of onlookers had gathered and fixed their gaze on us.
And there I stood, alone at the center of that chaos, wondering exactly how I should play my next move.