Roadside Battles and Slamming's Discipline

Locking eyes with Slamming was a signal for punishment. [!] It might sound like nonsense, but among Monworld summoners, it was common sense. And the summoners on this road—day or night, through all seasons—were packed like pine trees guarding the main alleys, jingling with energy. Most of them were men (important), too. Sadly, the creator's gender-swap beam hadn't extended to random extras.

"Come out! Small Rat!"

"Maret maret!"

Ignoring my inner thoughts entirely, Shorts-wearing boy Oh Sung-oh summoned his familiar. Just like in the original game, it was a normal-type Small Rat. The difference? Like all familiars, the Small Rat was anthropomorphized into a cute rat beastkin girl.

This was just another early-game battle tutorial, so it was a breeze to handle.

"Come out! Slamming!"

That's why I called Slamming to the front line.

"Ah, y-yes...! Master!"

Slamming was still only level 7, so she needed more leveling anyway.

"...I'll, I'll do my best!"

Lately, she'd been losing confidence. Sure, it'd only been two days since we met, but the sense of wrongness was urgent enough to address right away.

Life never goes according to plan. That's what made it fun—except right now, when it wasn't fun at all.

"Kyaaak...!!"

From my perspective, this was practically an accident befalling my familiar.

Bad luck with the quick attack was one thing.

A critical hit on top of that? A 1/20 chance hitting now? This frequently?

By the time I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, Slamming's health bar had shifted from full green to red-tinged. Still orange for now, but...

"You okay?! Slamming?!"

"Y-Yes... S-Sorry...! Master, I'll, I'll counterattack!"

I'd meant it as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠concern, but it came out sounding like I was rushing her.

Without giving her time to explain, Slamming hurriedly sprayed water from her hands.

Whoosh-!

"Maret...!"

The Small Rat's health bar was halved by the water cannon. Her clumsy personality gave a bonus to special attack power.

If things kept going like this, she'd survive another quick attack and win with Water Gun counter.

But.

Feeling uneasy for some reason, I went for another option.

I wanted to see how recovery items worked anyway.

The method was similar to handling monster cards. Click the button, and the system released like pulling a safety pin.

Pop!

As the usage message appeared, the stubborn potion cork popped off with a cheerful sound.

"Here, Slamming. Drink up."

"...Th-Thank you... so much."

Given her condition, I went over and fed her directly. I pressed the long-necked flask to her soft lips and slowly poured the liquid.

Gulp gulp...

With the sound of it flowing through the transparent bottle, Slamming's small mouth filled with the murky liquid. Once finished, her cheeks puffed out round and full.

"...How is it?"

"...Mm, mmph..."

...It didn't taste good, apparently. Well, it was medicine.

"Can you swallow?"

Gulp... Slamming's slender throat bobbed up and down.

"...B-Because it's from Master."

"..."

She didn't seem to realize it, with her low self-esteem, but Slamming had a talent for inflaming a man's anger with every word. The kind that made you want to pounce without question.

Of course, that came after.

"Maret...!"

The turn spent on the consumable passed, and it was Oh Sung-oh's go. Contrary to my worries, the Small Rat didn't attack—instead, she put on a pathetic little show not even worth calling a taunt.

"Maret, maret... mama maret...!"

Her Cry was kinda cute, in a way.

But that was it—no meaningful debuff.

Slamming's main move was Water Gun, a special attack.

Whoosh!!

"...S-Small RaAAT...!"

Not knowing that, the Small Rat let out a death cry and fainted.

The match ended soon after, with Slamming gaining enough EXP to level up. Not much longer now.

Any other time, I'd have worn the Small Rat down to a pulp, stripped her bare, and enjoyed the view.

"...D-Did we... win?"

But I had some tact. Trash mobs like Small Rats were everywhere; no need to make a scene here when I could catch one later if needed.

"Looks like it."

The [Winner: Ji-woo] message was right there in front of me.

"...Ahh... To lose so ridiculously like this...!"

Shorts-wearing boy Oh Sung-oh recited his scripted defeat line from the original game.

The prize money came with victory, and per system settings, a portion auto-transferred to Mom.

"You're really strong! If it's okay, give me your number! I'll call when I want a familiar battle!"

Oh Sung-oh's request came, with two choices as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠expected from post-battle events with some summoners.

"No, pass?"

Of course I refused. Why save a guy's number unless it's a girl? I'd accidentally given mine once on my first playthrough, and the nonstop useless calls gave me such a headache.

Monworld had online banking but treated phone numbers like lifetime tattoos—no blocking or changing possible. Better fill it with cute female summoners only.

"I see... But next time, I won't lose so easily!"

Yeah yeah, got it—let's move on. I smashed through the dialogue to end it.

I was busy enough as it was.

For example.

"Slamming, you were amazing! We won thanks to you! My first familiar, as expected!"

Comforting my dejected partner familiar, things like that.

Then.

"...You didn't have to push yourself."

Slamming slowly lifted her bowed head.

If this cheered her up...

"...You don't need to praise me..."

Nope. She looked even worse than before.

...Hmm...

I must be losing it. Even her lack of confidence was turning me on now.

After clearing out all the sweaty male trainers blocking the main paths, I headed home.

In the meantime, my familiars had leveled up like crazy.

Finally, we had the cheat skill Liquefy. With this, most battles would tilt in our favor.

"..."

Slamming herself seemed oblivious to its value.

Even after Mom's healing cleared the fatigue, a shadow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lingered on her face.

"...S-Sorry..."

"...Huh? For what?"

We hadn't even started, and she was already apologizing.

"B-Because of my careless words... I made Master uncomfortable..."

"..."

I couldn't exactly deny it. I'd benched Sylph specifically because Slamming was on my mind.

She must feel like she'd been called to the principal's office.

"It's my fault..."

"Faulty how? Why would you be at fault?"

But this, I could say sincerely. I'd never seen her do wrong; her self-flagellation was almost infuriating.

Compared to me, Slamming was practically a living saint, an angel.

"I-I'm useless... I wasted Master's precious potion..."

"When else would I use it? It wasn't expensive."

No lie—it cost 200 gold tops, sold for 100.

"And made us come all the way home because I got hurt..."

"It wasn't just you. Sylph needed healing too."

Plus, I didn't want to camp outside. Immortal or not, a soft bed was better.

But mentioning Sylph might've been the trigger. Slamming's face grew even more forlorn, her trembling voice spilling her pent-up feelings.

"And yet... I'm jealous of wonderful junior Sylph..."

"...Jealous?"

She did seem on edge. Sylph's type advantage meant higher usage, pushing her to level 12 ahead of Slamming.

But.

...She didn't act malicious about it, though?

If anything, she'd seemed subdued. Even if jealous, she hadn't made a nuisance—instead, she'd tried harder.

"...I'm a pathetic familiar..."

But feeling jealousy at all was guilt enough for her.

This type doesn't take well to reassurance. They defend themselves through self-deprecation, paradoxically.

The fix? Affirm the self-negation itself.

"Yeah, you need some discipline then."

"D-Discipline?"

A golden chance to vent my lust too. She'd been teasing me nonstop; I couldn't pass this up.

I laid out my brazen logic to the flustered Slamming.

"You think you're a lousy familiar, right? Then you need punishment to fix it. Proper correction."

"...Y-You're right... How should I receive it?"

As if her maid outfit wasn't just for show, she knelt on the bare floor, awaiting judgment.

Her soft, pliable body traced eerie curves even in that pose. How did she make every move so erotic without stripping? Time to spank that hole raw.

Shh...

"M-Master...! Eek...!"

I dropped my pants, and she yelped, covering her face with her hands. To hide the flush?

But her wide-spread fingers betrayed her—those blue eyes glued to my cock.

"Why so surprised? You've seen it once already."

"Th-That's true, but..."

After agonizing where to look, she continued haltingly.

"It looks even bigger than before. As thick as my forearm... Ahaha..."

That was her fault. So she'd take responsibility herself.

"Now, stroke it slowly from here."

As her master, I'd hold off on full sex. Step by step, enjoying—er, teaching her what she did right, what wrong.

"...Yes, Master."

And so her first handjob began.