Chapter 17
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Any Other Women?
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"Any other women besides me?"
Morning.
A fluffy tuft tickling my face.
And a heavy weight pressing down.
I opened my eyes.
There was a small, white teddy bear.
"……."
No, it was Elma in bear pajamas.
She was sprawled across my chest, fast asleep.
Drool pooling at the corner of her mouth.
"Mmm… nom nom…."
Her tiny lips smacked away.
I wonder what she's dreaming about.
"Meat… bring more…."
Of course.
A chuckle escaped me.
I tried to move my arm.
But it stuck fast with a rip.
"Ah."
The pajamas were a mess.
Traces from last night.
Elma's eyelashes fluttered.
"Mmm… Husband…?"
She rubbed her eyes sleepily.
Almond-shaped eyes, hazy with drowsiness.
"Sleep well?"
"Mhm…."
She nuzzled her face against my chest.
Riiiip.
"Huh?"
"Looks like it's stuck."
Elma lifted her head.
The fabric clung like Velcro, stretching taut.
"Ohhh…."
Elma's face flushed bright red.
She must remember what she'd done.
Begging me to spray her down.
"Whoa… it really was a ton…."
"Told you to aim somewhere else."
"Heehee. Still felt great."
Elma beamed, more satisfied than embarrassed.
"Wanna wash up?"
"Yeah. Together."
"Together again today?"
"Why not? Husbands and wives bathe together. It's normal."
Elma wriggled off me.
Riiiip—.
The fabric peeled away with a sticky sound.
"Ow… felt like my chest was ripping off. Still stings a bit."
She rubbed her chest and grumbled.
"Sorry."
"It's fine. A real man handles his woman rough sometimes."
Elma grinned slyly and hooked her arm in mine.
=================================
Even in the shower, Elma's teasing didn't stop.
"Husband's back is so broad."
"Your hands are just small, Elma."
"Nuh-uh. It's the Pacific Ocean. I could pitch a blanket and camp here."
She clung to my back, giggling.
In the end, it took a full hour to get out of the bathroom.
=======================
Early afternoon.
Brunch.
The menu was simple.
Toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon.
But the portions? Anything but.
Piled like mountains on the plates.
"Eat up. Gotta fuel for tonight's work."
"It's barely noon…."
"What? We're newlyweds. Normal to go at it just from eye contact, right?"
Elma chugged her milk.
A white mustache formed on her lip.
Adorable.
I grabbed a tissue and wiped it off.
"Thanks."
Elma munched her toast as I did.
Then she froze, eyes widening like she'd remembered something.
"Hey, Husband."
"Yeah?"
Her gaze scanned my face intently.
"Wait… felt it yesterday, but you're way too good at this."
"At what?"
"Last night, in the shower… handling a woman like that? Doesn't feel like your first time."
Elma's eyes narrowed.
Suspicion.
"Any before…?"
"……."
"Any other women besides me?"
It was coming.
The ex-girlfriend inquisition.
The mood sank awkwardly.
Elma set down her fork.
Under the table, her leg jiggled nervously.
Tense, maybe?
'What should I say?'
Tell the truth?
I'd dated before. Not a virgin.
But Elma's a dwarf.
Fiercely conservative, prideful.
Bundled with deep insecurities.
One wrong word, and I'd pour oil on the fire.
This underground bunker could turn into a sea of tears—or flames.
I calmly sipped my water.
Crafted the model answer.
"No. None."
"……Really?"
"Yeah. Too busy studying. Military service in the middle. You're my first, Elma."
Perfect.
Oscar-worthy performance.
A white lie for marital bliss.
Elma's face brightened.
Her lips twitched upward.
"Hmmm… really? I'm your first love and first woman?"
"Told you."
That's when it happened.
[Bleep-!]
[Lie detected.]
The butler golem on standby nearby.
A laser shot from its eyes, scanning my face.
[Heart rate elevated. Pupils dilated. Brainwave analysis: 'Lie' confirmed.]
"……."
"……."
Silence.
Elma's smile froze.
"Hey, tin can."
[Yes, Mistress.]
"Scan again. Could be a glitch."
[Rescanning… 99.9% probability of falsehood. Subject has had physical contact and interactions with multiple opposite sexes in the past…]
"Stop!"
Elma yelled.
The golem shut up.
Cold sweat trickled down my spine.
Game over.
Who knew her tech would step on my toes like this.
Elma hung her head.
Her small shoulders slumped.
"Knew it."
Her voice grew watery.
"Makes sense. A handsome, normal guy like you wouldn't be single."
"Elma, it's not—"
"It's okay. I get it. Marrying someone like me… you had to try a 'normal' girl first."
Miserable self-deprecation.
She stared at her hands.
Callused, rough, tiny.
Disproportionate, like a child's scaled down.
"Tall, slim, perfect chest. Normal girls like that, right?"
"……."
"Not weird-looking like me… could take all of you inside…."
Elma bit her lip hard.
"They win, huh? Of course. Last night you couldn't even fit… had to use my chest…."
She's digging her own grave.
Or already buried underground?
Either way, can't let this slide.
I stood.
Went to her side.
Hugged her slumped shoulders from behind.
"Let go…."
"Elma."
"Don't make me feel worse."
"Elma."
"Liar. Hypocrite."
She squirmed to push my arms away.
But I held tighter.
Rested my chin on her head.
"What does the past matter?"
"It does! I'm your first!"
"Yeah. So grateful. Made me so happy."
"Then what good is that! You've seen better women than me, sob, you'll always compare us!"
I whispered in her ear.
As earnestly as possible.
"But you're my last woman, Elma."
Her struggling stopped.
"……Huh?"
"Forever, you're the only one for me. What meaning do fleeting past flings have?"
Her little ears turned red.
"And I don't compare."
"Liar."
"Truth. Where else is a woman as cute, sexy, talented, and rich as you?"
"W-Well, yeah… I am pretty great…?"
All-out sweet talk.
She's coming around.
Dwarves melt for praise, as expected.
"Above all."
I reached around and gently squeezed her breast.
"What other woman has these?"
"Eek…."
"You saw yesterday. How much I loved it. Lost my mind inside them—was that acting?"
Elma fell silent.
Memories of last night.
My frenzied release.
Too intense for a lie.
"……No."
"See? Can't be satisfied without your body now."
I stroked her hair.
Gently.
Affectionately.
"So don't worry. You're the best in my eyes."
Elma turned in my arms.
Clung to my waist, buried her face in my chest, and mumbled.
"Promise? I'll gouge out your eyes if you look at another."
"Yes. Gouge away."
"Hmph… I'll let it slide this once."
She rubbed her cheek against my stomach.
"But today, eyes on me only."
"Naturally."
"And moving."
"Moving?"
Sudden topic shift.
Elma looked up.
Her eyes sparkled with energy.
"Gotta bring all your stuff here."
"Oh, right."
"Yeah. Your home's here now."
Elma clenched her fist.
Claiming everything of mine as hers.
Channeling jealousy into possessiveness.
"Weekend's perfect. Let's finish it all at once!"
I had no idea then.
Everything this woman did was ridiculously over-the-top.
===============================
Sunday afternoon.
Behind the dorm building near campus.
A deserted alley.
"Can't we just call a moving truck?"
"Trust my husband's stuff to strangers? No way."
Elma shook her head.
Her twintails whipped the air.
Tablet PC in hand.
"Plus, traffic's hell on weekends. Airlift's faster."
"Airlift?"
No way.
"Operation start."
Elma tapped the tablet.
Whirrwhirrwhirr—!
Fierce winds kicked up.
A massive shadow loomed from the sky.
"What in the world…."
Drones.
Or too big for drones?
Size of transport choppers I'd seen in the military.
And ten of them, flying in formation.
"Impressed? My 'Flying Delivery Drone MK-4's. Each hauls a ton easy."
"My stuff isn't ten tons…."
"Better safe! You never know!"
Whirrwhirr—.
Drones lined up at the window.
"Husband's room number?"
"305."
"305. Target confirmed. Breach."
A small drone ejected from one.
Stuck to the window, slipped a mechanical arm through the gap.
The window slid open smoothly.
Elma tapped the tablet.
Pssh— pssh—
Pneumatic hiss.
Drones fired wires into the room.
Tiny golems ziplined along them inside.
Crash.
Clatter.
Loud noises echoed.
"It'll be fine… right?"
"Huh? Long as kill mode's off."
Kill mode?
Crash.
Clatter.
The racket continued uneasily.
[Packing complete.]
[Extraction beginning.]
Soon, alerts pinged on the tablet.
Boxes streamed out the window along the wires.
Sucked into the drones' bellies.
"Whoa…."
This a move or a spec ops raid?
"What's that?"
"Drones?"
"Way too big for drones."
"Military chopper?"
Onlookers gawked skyward.
Pulled out phones.
Shutter clicks everywhere.
"Elma… drawing too much aggro."
"Relax. Can't I cover this much?"
Professor prestige, I guess.
"Alright, homeward."
Whirrwhirr—
The drone fleet crossed the sky, loads dangling.
"Elma. Flying too high?"
"Straight line's fastest. Dodging buildings is a pain."
Elma hummed cheerfully.
Drones climbed higher.
Visible to everyone—and then some.
=====================
Five minutes later.
Warning blared from Elma's tablet.
[Unidentified flying object approaching.]
Red light flashed on the controller.
"Huh? What's this?"
Elma peered at the screen.
Whumpwhumpwhumpwhump—!
A heavy rotor thrummed from afar.
Deeper, more ominous than the drones.
"……Helicopter?"
Camouflage paint.
Military chopper.
With a machine gun mounted.