Chapter 59
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: I Don't Want to Become a Desperate Old Hag!
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Ren's consultation with me was none other than love advice.
To be honest, I am indeed a specialist counselor for Hunters.
That said, it didn't mean that included "dating advice."
My work mainly involved things like, "I keep getting horny during battles," "My pussy juices start flowing the moment I enter a dungeon," "My womb throbs just looking at a mana core," and so on.
…Stuff like that shit.
And now, here I was, listening to a monstrous woman—an S-Rank Hunter from Japan—complain about "No guys are hitting on me."
This was definitely not my area of expertise, and given who she was, it should have felt pretty damn uncomfortable.
…But for some reason, I was.
Genuinely happy.
'How long has it been since I last heard a normal consultation...? Hell, isn't this the very first one?'
That made sense, considering the three mental patients I'd dealt with so far.
One was a sex fiend whose hobby was baby play—wearing diapers and jerking off with a syndrome that kept her acting like a baby even in her thirties.
Another was an exhibitionist who, using her beastkin traits as an excuse, would bolt naked into the street during heat, lift one leg high, and piss herself while everyone watched.
And the last was a twisted freak who called herself a saint but could only heal her trauma by getting constantly bound and forcibly fucked—like the ace whore of a brothel.
…Compared to that insane trio, this "No guys are hitting on me" was diamond-tier treasure in a psychiatrist's vault.
Of course, I knew full well that consultations coming to a psychiatrist were rarely normal.
Still—
Fuck, I couldn't help but offer up thanks upon thanks for this seemingly "normal" issue after so long.
"Well, if that's the case, I can certainly lend an ear."
Plus, dating advice? Eh, whatever~.
Sure, romance counseling had its own experts because it was a tricky genre, but to someone like me with a psychiatry background, it was just basic emotional support at best.
Ren knew damn well this wasn't my field anyway, so all I had to do was pretend to empathize with her answers and give some "basic encouragement" counseling.
So I leaned in and listened.
And then.
"Counselor Kim Seungbin, answer me straight."
"Ah, yes…"
"Am I… ugly?"
"…Pardon?"
No, did she really have to package this as a "problem"?
This was something a quick glance in the mirror would fix, Ren.
Even without any expertise, it was such a simple issue I could answer it right here with my dick.
But Ren asked with all the solemnity of starting some world-saving secret ritual.
"No? You're incredibly beautiful?"
My response was immediate.
To be precise, she was so stunningly gorgeous it bordered on lewd.
That went without saying.
Being an S-Rank Hunter wasn't just about raw strength.
The Hunter Association wasn't run by idiots—they wouldn't parade an ugly, fat slob as one of the "World's 100 Most Beautiful Faces," no matter how strong.
That led to all the noise about looks discrimination, but the reality of the Hunter world was: if it bothers you, don't blame others' stares—fix your own damn face first.
In short, Ren was officially one of the "100 Beauties" certified by the entire world.
And the woman sitting before me now had a perfectly straight nose without a single flaw, blood-red irises like droplets of blood.
Ears peeking subtly through silky black hair, and breasts spilling out so generously from her kimono that they seemed ready to pour over her side.
They even jiggled faintly with every breath.
How the hell could that look ugly?
To put it crudely, she looked like the type you wanted to rip that kimono off and fuck until your bones ached right this instant.
"Really…? Am I… pretty?"
For real, was this her actual worry?
That face?
Ren asked with an unusually insecure expression.
I nodded.
She took a sip of wine, then—
Bang!!
"?!"
—slammed her glass down hard enough to shake the table.
And just like that, she grabbed the wine bottle beside her and chugged straight from it.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
Wine slid down her throat, a few red droplets trickling into the cleavage of her breasts beneath the kimono.
Her face flushed gradually, and her red eyes gleamed with what might have been drunkenness or arousal—or both.
"Then why have I never even held a man's hand, let alone gotten married… when I'm about to turn thirty?!"
…Whoa.
They say alcohol awakens one's true instincts, and the cold-blooded S-Rank Hunter before me was gone—replaced by a virgin in her late twenties gripped by womb panic.
Back in our first meeting, when she saved me in that special dungeon, she'd crushed me with her icy, haughty princess aura.
Now, drunk on wine, she crossed her thighs, her eyes glistening with injustice as she trembled.
"Women… usually hit menopause around their mid-thirties, making pregnancy harder. Especially after thirty, the chances drop exponentially…!"
"Ah, well. Yeah…"
"That's why, as one of Japan's premier Hunters… to keep from tarnishing my life—always recorded as a victor—with the shame of becoming some hag fighting science and yelling 'I'm still good to go!' in my old age… I've fought with everything I had!"
Ren's voice cracked.
As I'd mentioned before, she was an orphanage kid with no parents.
She'd clawed her way up from rock bottom, gritting her teeth to live better than any spoiled rich kid, becoming a Hunter.
To avoid stagnating at some mediocre rank and dying like a dog in a dungeon, she'd pushed herself until her womb felt torn, climbing to the pinnacle of S-Rank.
And as a woman, her noblest choice.
Simply put, born with a womb, she believed "pregnancy and childbirth" was her life's ultimate goal.
So right after hitting adulthood, to avoid becoming one of those who partied without a care in their youth.
Only to end up with a hardened womb unfit for kids, her pussy wrinkled and sagging, yet still wriggling around going "I'm still usable♥"—a pathetic desperate hag.
She'd fought and endured like hell to prevent that.
"And now I'm almost thirty, and I haven't even dated…"
Ren closed her eyes.
Her lips glistened wine-red, her sigh-tinged breath tickling my ear.
In that moment, I realized.
The woman before me wasn't the victor Kurokawa Ren—she was a 29-year-old untouched virgin, precariously seated with her aroused womb in tow.
"Counselor, tell me."
Ren sealed her wine-shiny lips and stared straight at me.
"If looks aren't the issue… then why do men run away the moment they see me, saying I'm 'scary'?"
…She looked utterly clueless.
But honestly, I knew all too well.
In this world where chastity norms were flipped, if an S-Rank Hunter approached without a bra, kimono loosely draped so her nipple shadows showed through, shoulder scarred from slicing throats…
Forget "pretty"—it was straight-up terrifying.
In this ecosystem full of herbivore guys, Ren wasn't just a predator; she was damn near a womb-equipped killing machine.
'Thinking back, even in school, guys were all "girls are scary, I'm going to an all-boys high school"…'
But could I just say that outright?
The answer was glaringly obvious.
Yet that answer was basically "You'll probably stay a virgin forever~"—a historic gut-punch fact bomb.
Could I drop a womb-direct nuke like that on someone who saw marriage as life's greatest win?
Plus, if she didn't accept it and instead got traumatized from the counseling, that'd spark a full-blown diplomatic incident between Korea and Japan.
'Ha… fuck… what do I do?'
I knew the answer, but my mouth refused to spit it out.
The other dating counselors she'd seen before me had probably clocked it too.
But voicing it would end not just their careers, but their lives—so they all just smiled and went "Haha, who knows~."
And now that bomb had rolled to me, the "male" counselor who seemed like he'd listen better.
But sorry, Ren.
I have no plans to explode with it either.
I was gonna smile vaguely and dodge with a "Haha~" just like the rest.
But then.
"Your pants are bulging out about three centimeters in front."
"…?"
"Right now, it's risen another 7.5 centimeters or so in height, and the volume—hmm, about a cup and a half more swollen than before."
"…What about?"
Ren was dead serious.
No, so serious it was downright scary.
Her red eyes were locked straight on my crotch.
"When we first met. You were trying to hide it with your pants, but you got erect, didn't you?"
…………?
Fuck.
Was she seriously measuring my erection from the subtle bulge in my pants?
As expected of an S-Rank Hunter.
Using eyes that had bisected human bodies to gauge dick length down to the margin of error—wasn't that a huge waste of talent?
No, before that—fuck, that's terrifying!!
What the hell was that?!
Was this the infamous "gaze rape" I'd only heard about?
Ren stared with her red eyes wide open, as if peering right under my skin.
Specifically… into my pants.
And the reason she suddenly rattled off my erection stats was—
"Counselor Kim Seungbin."
Ren licked her wine-red lips.
"You… just got hard looking at me again. In other words, your body voted to plunge deep into my womb, pounding away."
"Uh… I wasn't thinking quite that detailed."
"Doesn't matter."
Ren lifted the hem of her kimono slightly, crossed her thighs, and smiled.
"The key point is, unlike other guys who don't instantly fold the moment they see me—and only get it up after you brutally prostate-fuck their asses—you got hard just from looking. You're a 'prime stud'♥"
What the hell did she do on those blind dates to make prostate torture come up…?
Curiosity piqued, but it felt like too deep an abyss—digging further might drag my sanity down with it.
Anyway, her point was simple.
Ren set down the wine bottle, her red eyes gleaming with a strange light as she gazed at my crotch and smiled.
"Counselor♥ You've pierced through my 'mating instincts' that even I don't know about. Please… amplify that allure… make it so irresistibly arousing, brimming with breeding lust, that studs come charging in!♥"