Object of Worship (1)
Once the investigation team's mission was finished, we found ourselves with a short stretch of free time.
The next event involved stopping Talon's plans, but that could only move forward after Beyond finished the decryption work. I already knew what the contents would say, so in theory I could have acted ahead of time—but the next event wasn't something one person could handle alone. Jumping the gun wouldn't have meant much.
Rest, huh.
It was the least fitting word for a game where every second was supposed to be spent efficiently, but the truth was I didn't have anything useful to do right now. This place wasn't like Aiden—there was no adventurers' guild to hand out quests, and nothing worth hunting either.
Back in the old days, leftover time like this would have gone into pushing Kyle and Emily's romance along. But…
No need for that anymore.
Judging by how the two of them had been acting lately, they didn't need anyone shoving them from behind. Hell, was shoving even possible at this point? They seemed to be moving faster than anyone could push. If anything, I was starting to wonder whether I ought to be hitting the brakes.
"Hmm."
I looked around, searching for something—or someone—worth spending the spare time on. And then something caught my eye.
"…"
Mela. She was walking along with a paper bag clutched to her chest, as if she'd been out shopping.
Perfect.
Lately she'd been hovering around me like she had something to say, but we'd never quite found the right moment for a real conversation. This was my chance to ask what was going on.
Come to think of it, I still need to do something about Mela's Submission Level…
During the last dungeon run, Giant Penis Worship had triggered on her. Right now Mela was stuck at Submission Level 1, complete with the corresponding domination effects. That was an obstacle to building a healthy relationship, and it came with plenty of drawbacks of its own—something I needed to clear as fast as possible.
The problem was, I didn't have a clean way to do it. Escaping a dominated state required raising her willpower and then waiting it out, but submission halved her willpower to begin with, so the recovery was barely a trickle. Lowering the Submission Level itself? I didn't have a method ready to hand.
A headache from every angle.
"Hey, Mela. Got a second? I need to talk to you."
I decided to start with a conversation. System-wise the situation looked hopeless, but Layla had already proven that the system didn't always hold absolute sway. I called out hoping to find a way through—and then something I hadn't expected happened.
Mela took one look at me, flinched hard, and bolted.
"…"
What? She was running away? Caught off guard, I took off after her at once.
"Hey, wait! I just want to talk, so stop right there!"
I'd started chasing on pure reflex, but a second of thought made it clear I didn't really need to go this far. Her avoiding me wasn't anything new, and another chance to talk would come around eventually.
Then a system window bloomed in front of my face.
Mela disobeys your command.
Your domination power weakens.
There it was—the way out of the domination state I'd been fretting over. I kept shouting as I chased her down the street.
"Hey! I said stop!"
"I'm not stopping!"
The looks from the passersby suggested they were drawing some truly spectacular conclusions, but I decided not to care. Getting this kind of treatment wasn't exactly a first for me.
I chased her until my lungs started to burn.
"Hey, could you maybe slow down a little?"
Mela didn't so much as pretend to hear me. She just poured on more speed.
Damn it! She's ridiculously fast!
Thief class—of course she was. With my martial fighter's stamina I was somehow still on her heels, but at this rate I was going to lose her.
The one stroke of luck was that I roughly knew the layout of this city. After a few careful nudges to steer her path, I managed to drive her into a dead end.
"…!"
Mela froze, staring at the wall that blocked her way. I cornered her, gasping for air.
"Hah! That should be enough running. Now let's talk."
At my words, Mela flushed red and looked away. She clearly knew her own behavior was strange. Even so, she showed no sign of wanting a conversation—just kept scanning her surroundings, looking for an exit.
That reaction hit harder than I expected.
Does she hate me that much?
I'd thought we'd gotten a little closer lately. Seeing her like this stung more than I wanted to admit. The look on her face was pure resolve, as if she were facing a mortal enemy and had sworn never to speak a word.
Before I could say anything else, Mela's body shot upward.
Tap!
She sprang like a coiled spring, using both walls as footholds, and began vaulting her way up. An astonishing display of skill from a thief at the peak of her craft. All I could do was stare.
Slip.
"Ah—"
Her acrobatics must have been too much for the bag. Something tumbled free and spun down toward the ground. I caught it as it fell, turning end over end.
"N-no—!"
Mela's cry rang out at the same instant she launched herself down, snatching the object from my hand in a flash. The problem was that she'd dropped from above without shedding any speed—and slammed straight into me.
Crash!
The two of us went tumbling in a noisy heap.
The night before.
Mela had been curled up on her bed, trembling. Her ragged breathing gradually settled, and at last she let out a long, shaky exhale.
"Haaah…"
When she drew her hand out of her pants, her fingers were slick. Still not enough. Her body was burning, and she had no idea what to do with herself.
Every time it got like this, she found herself aching for that thing. The one so massive and thick that even both hands couldn't fully wrap around it.
Fortunately, this city—while no match for Aiden—still carried a decent variety of goods. A magecraft workshop mass-producing magical tools meant merchants came and went constantly. Situated relatively far from the front lines, the city mostly sold practical household items. But Mela, who had grown up in the underworld, knew better. Cities like this always overflowed with products meant to satisfy human desire, and the services that went with them thrived all the more.
After searching here and there, she finally found the place she was looking for.
"My, what an adorable little customer."
A woman with a bust that rivaled Layla's greeted her. The eerie aura paired with a youthful face suggested a witch. She exhaled a lazy stream of cigarette smoke, decadence rolling off her in waves.
"Looking for something? Just say the word. Toys to soothe a lonely night, magic potions to make your beloved yours alone—I've got it all."
Mela carefully described what she wanted. The witch smiled as if she found her precious, and led her over to a display of merchandise.
"Go on. Take your time looking."
Dozens of items lined the shelves—a genuine spectacle. Mela browsed in a daze until something made her eyes light up. Embarrassed, she covered her mouth with her muffler and pointed.
The witch checked the item and looked mildly surprised.
"Young lady… that innocent face of yours is hiding quite the bold taste, isn't it?"
Mela's cheeks burned, but she went through with the purchase all the same. Of everything she could remember, this was the one closest in size to the real thing.
I got back on my feet right away. Both of us were sturdy physical damage dealers—a hit like that barely registered.
"…"
Except Mela hadn't moved at all. She was still lying exactly where she'd landed. Alarmed, I checked on her.
"Hey, Mela. You okay?"
"…"
She stayed curled up, refusing to answer. When I tried to pull her upright, she put real strength into holding the position—like a mother bird protecting her eggs.
She's hiding something.
I debated whether I really needed to uncover whatever secret she was guarding this fiercely. Then I decided I did. No deep reason. Teasing Mela was just fun. I was starting to understand why friends with little sisters tormented them so relentlessly.
"Just… get up… already!"
In the end she couldn't overpower me. Her body came up, and at last I got a clear look at her.
A face flushed scarlet. Eyes brimming with tears. A mark on her forehead from where we'd collided. And cradled carefully against her chest—something black, long, and thick.
"…"
"…"
A black, long, thick… dildo. Comparable to mine, if I had to put a size on it. Extra-large.
Ah. This was bad. I had no idea what expression I was supposed to be making right now. Was this how my older sister felt the time she walked in on me watching porn? I was probably wearing the exact same face she had then.
An awkward smile tugged at my mouth, and words slipped out before I could stop them.
"Whoa. Damn."
Mela couldn't take the mortification any longer. She covered her face with both hands.