The Bet (3)
If not for that subtle attitude toward onaholes, she might even make a decent comrade. She was proactive in tackling the dungeon, and unlike at home—where she just used onaholes for pleasure—she stepped up in combat and played a decisive role. It seemed her personality wasn't entirely rotten. Deep down, Yeoul had probably chosen this undead-slaying dungeon with her in mind, which pleased her. The only drawback was her shoddy gear.
If I get injured, I'll have to take his semen to recover, but with such poor equipment, that'll be tricky. He'd given her his mace and some iron shield of unknown origin, but without proper plate armor—the core of any defense—it was hard to tank enemy attacks. Especially since she had to avoid injury to skip swallowing his semen for healing, which made it even tougher to perform at full strength. Once the bet ended, she'd demand he outfit her with plate armor.
That woman's not even an onahole, yet she travels with him so freely. Jeanne glanced at Jeong-hwa chatting with Yeoul. The way he treated her—who wasn't an onahole—differed so much from the Yeoul she knew that Jeanne wondered if it was the same man. As a knight who'd seen her share of people, she could tell his attitude toward Jeong-hwa was genuine: real advice and guidance for a comrade's growth. After witnessing his merciless treatment of onaholes like herself, Jeanne was confused about his true nature.
What does it matter? Winning the bet is all that counts. The bet's outcome would reveal Yeoul's real face anyway. To avoid facing his onahole-handling side in a week, Jeanne kept him at arm's length.
"You're Jeanne, right?"
"Ah, you're..."
"I'm Jeong-hwa. An Jeong-hwa."
"Sorry. I don't remember names of people I just meet. Jeong-hwa... Got it now. So, what's up?"
Jeanne asked Jeong-hwa, who'd approached her. Unlike Yeoul, she was a pure human, no threat, and a fellow woman—Jeanne felt no wariness. If anything, she liked her. A woman fighting on the front lines suited Jeanne's tastes.
"Nothing specific. Combat's over, so I thought we could get to know each other. You joined recently, right, Jeanne?"
"First time in this dungeon, yeah."
Knowing Yeoul was publicly a summoner, Jeanne answered carefully to avoid suspicion. She didn't care about his excuses, but getting outed as an onahole to others wasn't appealing.
"Figured. But you're different from the others. So far, only monsters as summons, but humans too, huh?"
Yeoul hadn't specified her race during introductions, so Jeong-hwa assumed she was a human summon.
Brina and Slami are monsters, so that was fine, but a human summon...? Monster girls like Brina and Slami were reassuring(?), but not Jeanne. The tall, Western beauty with perfect proportions—even baggy training clothes couldn't hide her hips and bust—was captivating, even to another woman. Slender compared to Brina and Slami's excesses, but that was their abnormality; Jeanne's figure was realistic glamour incarnate. That's why Jeong-hwa was on guard—Yeoul loved big breasts, and Jeanne's fit perfectly.
"Human summon? Guess he didn't say. I'm a monster too. Dullahan, specifically."
Jeong-hwa relaxed at the denial but tilted her head. Jeanne looked utterly human. Plus, she didn't know what a dullahan was.
"Dullahan... what's that?"
"You don't know dullahan? Hm, easier to show you."
Jeanne grinned and pointed to her neck.
"See this black line?"
"A tattoo?"
"Nah, scar from getting my head chopped off."
"Huh?"
"Like this."
As Jeong-hwa focused on the line, Jeanne lifted her head clean off.
"Wha? Wh-what...?"
Cognitive dissonance hit Jeong-hwa; she sputtered questioningly before screaming and toppling backward.
"Kyaah!!! N-neck... your neck...!!!"
Satisfied by the reaction, Jeanne beamed.
"Dullahan means undead warriors or knights made with severed heads like this. Clear now?"
"Haa... haa... I thought my heart would stop! Did you have to show me like that?!"
Calming her pounding chest, Jeong-hwa scolded. How could she not freak seeing a head detach?
Jeanne reattached her head and shrugged at the rebuke.
"Undead don't have heartbeats, so can't relate."
"...Was that a joke?"
"Uh... not funny? It's undead humor..."
"Not even a little. Never do it again."
"Really... What a shame."
Her prized joke—conceived in dullahan solitude—flopped, leaving Jeanne glum.
"Anyway, not human, got it?"
"Was human once, but now just cold-blooded undead."
"Just checking: what do you think of Yeoul oppa?"
Jeanne wanted to unleash every insult she knew but toned it down for the likable Jeong-hwa.
"No interest. Hate being summoned as a familiar, honestly. Nothing to like outside combat."
Worried how pro-Yeoul Jeong-hwa would take it, Jeanne was relieved when she beamed and offered a hand.
"Then we can get along great! Nice to meet you."
Seeing that, Jeanne guessed Jeong-hwa's feelings for Yeoul. She swallowed her words, gripped the hand, and muttered one thing.
"...I respect your tastes."
"......? Thanks!"
After exiting the dungeon, they grabbed lunch as planned, trained solo or in teams at the tech training center, and dispersed home by sunset.
Jeanne headed straight for the bathroom.
"No peeking."
"Why would I? Go wash up, don't worry."
Warning Yeoul, she locked the inner door, sensed him leave with her ki detection, then relaxed and undressed.
"He really won't do anything. What's his game...?"
The first day of the bet ended without tricks, heightening her anxiety. He wasn't stupid enough for such a bet; some scheme was brewing, but unknowable, keeping her tense even in freedom.
Whoosh—
Undressed, Jeanne filled the tub with hot water and soaked. Her eternally cold onahole body warmed languidly in the heat.
"Hoo... Nice to feel warmth again, unlike as undead."
The long-lost hot bath melted away mental fatigue too.
"This world's tech is impressive. A mere warrior living like this."
Earth's civilization—unlike her world's—amazed her. The house lacked flash but had noble-worthy conveniences and cleanliness. A common warrior owning it, stacking dozens into apartments, the cityscapes, well-dressed folk—all alien. Hard to believe it faced demon invasions; it looked utterly peaceful.
As if.
Peace was temporary. Time would bring demon-led ruin, like her world. Until then, she'd enjoy it.
If I win the bet.
Following Brina's instructions, Jeanne used shampoo and body wash for a refreshing bath, then emerged.
"Mm... Heat lingering? Body's still hot."
Changed into fresh training clothes, she unzipped and fanned the collar against the sweltering warmth. The bath felt great, but her default cold body made residual heat feel scorching—like fire rising from within.
As Jeanne fanned her collar, a stain on her lower abdomen—clearer than yesterday—spread ever so slightly...