Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: A Strange Atmosphere
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Only after the passionate creampie and the sticky paizuri blowjob did Konakan's clueless cock finally go down.
"Gotta wash up again."
"Throw that soap away. Don't make me trip balls into drugged-out sex again."
"Ah, uh-huh."
"I'm washing first."
I brushed past Konakan and headed into the shower.
I nearly panicked midway through washing, wondering which soap was the swapped one, but luckily I picked right and avoided a third round.
After rinsing off and toweling dry, I changed into the bathrobe hanging in the bathroom. The soft cotton white robe felt pleasant against my skin, rustling satisfyingly, and it put me oddly at ease.
As I stepped out of the shower in the robe, Konakan went in.
"Body feeling okay?"
"Yeah. Sorta."
"If you wanna crash first, go ahead."
"Nah. Not that sleepy."
"Cool."
Honestly, if I'd crashed right after the creampie when I was totally spent, the sheets would've been a disaster.
Part of me regretted not pulling some diva bullshit just to spite whoever spiked the soap.
Eh, whatever.
I lay on the bed, pulled up the covers, and let my mind wander until my hand drifted to my lower belly.
"...Guess I'm lucky, huh."
I'd fallen into an eroge world and turned into a girl.
I ended up living with a guy who knew it was an eroge.
And to top it off, we were in a relationship where we had to fuck every other day, no exceptions.
In a setup like this, could I have handled it like Konakan?
A tissue-chugging master who jerked off daily would've probably experimented with every tag and lived a blissful sex life.
Thinking about it that way, Konakan was definitely a good guy.
But why?
From how he used those tags, he clearly had some experience fapping. At minimum, he wasn't asexual.
He could fuck nonstop till his balls ran dry and no one would bat an eye, so why was he so sweet to me?
—Once I sleep with a woman, I take responsibility to the end. That's my creed.
It had to be tied to that backstory.
"Haa, feels refreshing."
Lost in thought, I heard Konakan emerge from the steamy shower. His robe pants were tented again with that ugly pillar.
"Can't you keep that thing down for once?"
"S-Sorry. But it's not on purpose..."
"Can't you tone down the energy?"
"Just picturing that chewy paizuri from before... Shamefully got hard again."
"Don't narrate it like a play-by-play, creep. Get in bed and sleep."
I scooted over slightly and lifted the covers. He lit up like it was Christmas.
"Whoa! You sure?"
"Your 'you sure' sounds loaded with meaning."
"Just in case, y'know? What if the pheromones make your girl heart race and you pounce?"
"I'm a guy at heart, so no chance. Just offering 'cause your back might ache. Don't get cocky—get in."
Konakan hopped into bed and lay beside me under the covers.
"Sweet, thanks."
Lying side by side, the bed felt surprisingly cramped. I'd thought it was decent-sized, but Konakan's broad shoulders drove it home.
"Wanna use my arm as a pillow?"
He grinned slyly, arm outstretched in the tight space.
"Piss off."
I snapped coldly and turned away, curling up like a shrimp.
I ignored his awkward chuckle, closed my eyes, and tried to sleep.
His breathing deepened quickly.
*
Felt like I'd only slept minutes, but it was morning. Sex really takes it out of you.
I'd read somewhere that sex hits aerobic, anaerobic, and core training all at once—the ultimate workout.
Lifting your partner's weight counts as anaerobic, and building to orgasm is pure cardio.
Plus, the mechanics inevitably work your hard-to-train lower abs, glutes, and thighs for killer core gains.
If milk and eggs are superfoods, sex is the super exercise.
Of course, screw up and you risk sex addiction worse than any gym rat habit.
"...Huh?"
Where'd this guy go first thing?
Didn't feel like I'd overslept that bad.
He didn't bail, right? We're both cursed to die without sex every other day—running off means mutual suicide.
...Kinda anxious.
I knew he wouldn't, but this jittery feeling?
Just to check, I peered out the window.
"...What?"
In the inn's backyard, Konakan was swinging a spear around.
Phew. Still here.
What's he doing at dawn, though?
"Sweeping the yard?"
He turned at my voice and looked up.
Then he proudly raised the training spear high.
"Spear training."
"Huh? Outta nowhere?"
"Yeah. I was useless against those goblins last time."
True. Without the tags, it'd have been a gang-rape humiliation NTR ending for us. Even as the eroge protag and male lead, his combat skills were pathetically low.
Guess he felt it too and decided to train.
"Just swinging it around levels spear arts?"
"Status says so. 'Spear Mastery'—swing a few hundred, thrust a few hundred, weapon rank goes up."
"Nice."
Wonder if magic works the same?
"Status Window."
Not a one-trick Clean pony after all!
"Hey! Let's train together!"
I needed to grind proficiency anyway to pull my weight, so might as well. I threw on a loose dress, left the room, clattered down to the lobby, and headed to Konakan.
"I got mastery too!"
"Oh yeah? Perfect, team up."
Konakan nodded and went to swing again, but paused, curious, and lowered the spear.
"How do you raise yours?"
"Use magic a lot, apparently."
"Flinging Fire Bolts into empty air?"
"Probably?"
"One slip and you're an arsonist."
True.
So how do I train? Trainable but not practical? Tease much?
Konakan thought a sec, then offered the spear tip.
"What if you enchant it with flames?"
"Ooh, like enchant?"
"Yeah. No rule saying specific spells."
"Wait... True. Let's try."
"Here."
I reached for the training spear tip and focused.
Casting wasn't hard. Just imagine flames wrapping it.
Key was holding it.
Imagining's easy; sustaining vividly takes focus.
That's magic.
Raising proficiency means honing that visualization.
Let's do it.
"...Enchant."
Chanting, flames slowly coiled around the blade. Gripping like a hand, the flickering fire was mesmerizing.
But.
"Whoa..."
Dizziness hit hard, vision blacked out. Feet floated, balance gone, body swayed wildly.
Too advanced?
Nosebleed city…
"Kiriche!"
Grab.
Felt like collapsing, then caught by strong arms. Vision cleared.
I'd nearly faceplanted; Konakan caught me.
He'd thrust one leg forward, bent low, cradling my head with one hand, waist with the other, barely holding.
"Y-You okay?"
Wait.
This pose… familiar.
Tense knees and back, ready to drop into prone…
'The Forward Unsupported Stance?!'
Princess carry? No, spear stance in a crisis? What twisted logic!
Ah, but.
Um...
Face is... pretty close.
Bayonet victim's tension vs. heroine's carry thrill ping-ponging.
"Kiriche, nosebleed."
"Huh? Oh, uh..."
He withdrew the arm from my waist and wiped my nosebleed with his thumb.
"Dizzy bad, huh. Need another way to grind proficiency besides enchant."
"Uh? Y-Yeah. Right."
Mumbling while he held the stance, his legs and arms started shaking.
True, tough even with a 3kg rifle; adult woman? Brutal.
"Hey, if it's hard... you can let go."
"R-Right, yeah."
Only then did he hastily set me upright and clear his throat.
"You know, up close... you're really pretty."
"...What?"
Flustered, he blurted nonsense. Stumped, I muttered back and turned away.
Fresh nosebleed trickled from my philtrum. Enchant's too much for my level.
I wiped it with my hand.
Then recalled that sensation there.
'...Like this?'
Like his thumb.
I traced it again with mine.