Is That All?
So that was it?
Marin had emotions—she just wore them clumsily.
It wasn't that she couldn't make expressions. It was that whenever she tried, everyone around her could tell she was "performing," plain as day.
The way the original author had once described it in the web novel: it was like forcing a right-handed person to write with their left—the letters come out crooked and wobbly across the page.
Others had once misread that awkwardness, assuming she was mocking their misfortune.
Because of that, she'd mostly stopped attempting facial expressions altogether.
At most, she'd play a prank here and there when the mood called for it.
So if she was deliberately forcing an expression now, it meant one thing: I want you to know exactly how I feel, no matter what it takes.
"Solis. I don't like it."
Marin puffed her cheeks out like a pufferfish glaring down a predator. She turned her head away from me and let out a sharp little hmph! through her nose, broadcasting her I'm sulking for all the world to see.
"I'm sorry, okay? So let it go."
"Hmph."
I was apologizing for forcing her to swallow my semen. Sincerity, after all, is the most unbeatable weapon there is for winning someone over. Here, I would beg forgiveness with everything I had.
By my estimation, what I'd done to Marin was no worse than forcing bitter medicine down her throat—forgivable, certainly.
"I'll buy you lots of tasty things later."
"That won't fix it."
I rubbed my hands together like a fly, waiting for her anger to thaw. Marin still avoided meeting my eyes whenever I leaned in close.
Just as I was wondering whether this wasn't going to cut it, a brilliant idea flashed into my head, and I snapped my fingers.
"Or... how about I make you something myself?"
Twitch!
Ohhh, there it is. A reaction. My own two eyes just witnessed her ears move. She's not even a beastkin, and her human ears just fluttered on their own—that is genuinely fascinating.
"Solis. You know how to make things?"
"I actually went to a pastry and baking academy once. There wasn't a single dessert there I didn't make."
"Macarons too? Brownies?"
"All of it. Cookies, cakes, crème brûlée—I've made every famous one."
"Oh."
The air went hissing out of those puffed-up cheeks, and they deflated like a punctured balloon. This time, she turned to meet my eyes on her own.
"Amazing. Solis, you're more talented than you look."
It's called scrambling to survive, kid.
There were exactly two things I liked in life.
One: exercise. Building my body, taking care of myself. It was exhausting, but the results came fast and honest, and I'd wanted to live long and healthy, so I'd started working out back in middle school, training with ruthless, meticulous discipline.
Two: women. Starting with a classmate I dated in high school, I thoroughly enjoyed romancing the fairer sex—winning their favor, throwing wild, round-the-clock sex parties without a care for day or night.
So what strength would be nice to have here, even if I could technically live without it? Cooking.
The modern world is a beautiful place—bulk-buying chicken breast, salads, and every health food imaginable was easy. But cooking it myself was cheaper and let me eat exactly to my taste, so I'd always made my own meals. That hobby blossomed into genuine interest, and after bouncing between various academies, I'd learned to make all kinds of dishes.
Nothing—and I mean nothing—wins a woman over like this. Every time something upset her, one sweet-and-tangy homemade treat would paper over the complaints and earn me her affection. Two birds, one stone.
Just like right now.
"Fine. I forgive you. In exchange, you make me lots of sweets."
"Deal. Promise."
We hooked our pinky fingers together and swore it, and Marin forgave me. Considering I'd forced a sex act on her, that was a bargain price to pay.
So glad I took the time to learn all that.
Talents you don't strictly need, but that pay off the moment you have them. In this brutally competitive day and age, half-hearted effort would never be enough to survive—let alone to court the women who caught my eye. Fickle as reeds, every one of them: hard to win over, harder still to keep. And I'd strided through all of it, shoulders squared, without a single regret.
For a man in my position, coaxing forgiveness out of an innocent, guileless girl was child's play.
Yes, it might make me look like a bastard. Looking at it honestly, this is the kind of thing only trash would do. But she'd accepted my heartfelt apology, so didn't that settle the matter?
Anyway, with that, the Blowjob Situation was officially wrapped up. I'd taught her what she needed to study—my actual reason for coming here—so my duty was done.
"Solis. Something's wrong."
"Wrong? What do you mean?"
"Your cock. The swelling won't go down."
"Oh, this?"
My lower half, still standing proud and vigorous despite having already gone once courtesy of Marin's vacuum blowjob. Looking down at a cock that could go all day, I couldn't help feeling a swell of pride.
Come on, I'm finally a man now—it'd be embarrassing to shrivel up after only one shot.
"Looks like the treatment failed."
"Failed? But you leaked water from your cock. I swallowed all of it."
"Some days are just like that. When the condition is this severe, simple first aid isn't enough."
Right. When the lust runs this hot, mere fondling sometimes won't cut it. There was still a long way to go before satisfaction.
And now, for the main event.
"Then what do we do?"
Marin's knowledge of this particular field was absolutely nil. If she'd learned even the shallowest things about it from anyone else, she might not have needed my help at all. The fact that she was asking me question after question, seeking my guidance—well, that told me everything.
So leave it to the expert. That's me.
"Sex. We have sex."
"Sex?"
"That's right. Sex, sex, SEX!"
It's important, so I said it twice. It's important, so I said it twice.
This was the moment. I'd ride this momentum and make her mine. There would be no other chance than now—not while the Writer was watching. This instant was my first and last opening!
Now, let me explain the process, step by step. "Sex is—"
{Whoa, you're stripping Marin bare? You've already made it this far?}
"..."
"Solis. Why are you quiet?"
Oh right. Why did I forget about this guy? The vulture who swoops in the second the Writer drops off the line. The perverted bastard who sits around salivating, just waiting for me to have sex. And now, making his grand entrance: our self-proclaimed Helper.
"Your timing is absolutely immaculate."
{Oh, main event starting? Not too late, right?}
Thanks to someone, I got blue-balled right at the starting line, you son of a—
A sigh welled up from the deepest pit of my lungs and burst out of my mouth.
{Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? After you violently kicked me out last time, I agonized day and night over getting back here.}
"Ah. Sure."
{Anyway, stop dawdling and get to it already!}
Sex! Have sex!Shove your cock in her pussy! His cheerleading was grating, like a leech draining me of every last drop of will.
{Hm? What's wrong? Your face is rotting off.}
Good eye. You're exactly why the mood is dead.
"Sex is when a man and a woman lie in bed together and sleep."
"That's all?"
"That's plenty."
{AAARGH, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, MAN?!}
The Helper panicked, firing off chat after chat—why would you stop halfway?!—but I ignored him, laid out the blanket, and climbed into bed. Marin slid in right after, nestling into my arms, and the two of us held each other tight beneath the warm covers.
...
And that is how we arrived at the present moment.
Sadly, the consummation I'd craved so badly never came to pass, but I made my peace with it.
It's just nerve-wracking knowing he's watching.
When I'd taken Yupi's virginity, I'd seized the chance without a moment's hesitation and claimed her precious first experience. If there's a hole, a man plugs it—that's just how it works. Once I knew the guy was watching, I'd actually gone the other way, mixing bodies with her like a beast, as if to say enjoy the show.
Caring about other people's eyes is for amateurs. Real masters carry the confidence to broadcast it to the whole world: yes, I'm the man who gets to ravish a beauty like this.
Those two things alone could never stop me.
But when he revealed he had an agenda of his own, the brakes slammed down on my runaway mind.
What if I end up dead because of this?
If you play games, you know the type: the ones that offer the player choices. Depending on which option you pick, the ending changes, so a careful gamer proceeds with deliberation.
What the Writer offers me is the standard route—an ending you can see coming, a happy ending, a perfect conclusion where everything goes well except Chloe.
On my very first day here, I'd even secured her firm promise: if I brought about the ending she wanted, she'd grant me a reward to match.
And him, by comparison? Unknown identity, unknowable intentions. And his grand theory is that sex saves people? He spouts nonsense that doesn't hold water on any level, and I'm supposed to just trust him?
I had no intention of giving up sex—but I had even less intention of dancing to his tune. Not a single shred.
So for today and today only, I'd swallow my tears and leave it for another day.
Relax the body. Clear the head of stray thoughts. That's enough.
Bedtime was long, long past. My body, which kept a rigorous daily routine, flooded my brain with fatigue the instant I resolved to sleep. Heavy eyelids. Consciousness drifting away. Before I knew it, my mind was being pulled down into that darkness.
...
Solis's breathing had settled into a steady rhythm—the deep, easy breathing of someone fast asleep.
Marin's eyes snapped open.
"Solis. Asleep?"
She waved a hand in front of his face.
"Asleep."
"Snnnnnrrrgh!"
"Loud."
She left Solis snoring away behind her and tucked her head under the blanket. There was no light beneath the covers, but her eyes adjusted to the darkness instantly.
"Like I thought. Still not cured."
Marin looked at his cock. A menacing thing, throbbing veins bulging along its length, so long and thick she could have gripped it two-handed and swung it like a club.
"It looks like it's suffering."
Instead of healing, it had only gotten worse, and worry kept sleep from coming easily to her.
They'd had sex, just like Solis said. But there was no sign of improvement at all.
Help is needed.
Marin decided to seek advice. Unlike a fool like herself, everyone else in the world was an intellectual, armed with wisdom and knowledge. She would ask them.
As it happened, Chloe had taught her something useful just days ago:
"If you're curious about something, ask on the community site. They'll answer your questions kindly."
Marin slipped out of bed and turned on her phone. Following the address Chloe had given her, she navigated to the site and, just as she'd been taught, composed a post.
Then she published it.
The moment Marin's question went live, the view count exploded. Interest came pouring in from every direction.
In under ten minutes, the post had hit the hot board, and from there it rocketed straight to the Best board, setting the entire community ablaze with chatter.