Chapter 19
I quickly pieced together the situation in my head. Hans and Duke, covered head to toe in the orc shaman's aphrodisiac spores. They eventually burst and got carted off to the clinic. 'Guess they actually followed my advice.' Separate from the tragedy that befell Hans and Duke, I was satisfied with Elena's decision.
I visited the clinic. The one by the city gates was bustling with adventurers. Hunters from every clan lined up for treatment after their expeditions. Temples were this world's hospitals, mainly handling trauma. Priests wielding divine healing powers were objects of universal respect among adventurers.
In that adult game, even they weren't exempt from becoming game villains... but '...not the time to worry about that now.'
The acrid herbal stench mixed with the rot of sickbeds assaulted my nose. Deeper inside, on the cots, Hans and Duke stared blankly into space with unfocused eyes.
Hans had lost her sturdy young man's build; her body was slender now, hair grown long. Her loose patient gown bulged with budding breasts overtop. She sat up, her waist between torso and blanket so narrow it looked like it'd snap with a flick—like an ant's waist.
Duke, once a thickset tank, had shrunk unbelievably small. Curled under her blanket on the cot, even her feet—which used to tower over mine—had halved to childlike size.
"Seeing it in person, it's worse than I imagined."
Elena hadn't been exaggerating. Their genders had really flipped.
'Lucky break, or should I call it that?'
Mira fidgeted between them, then brightened when she spotted me. Hans noticed too, flashing a timid, delicate smile that an orc would drool over.
"E-Eck..."
A thin, moist voice leaked out. If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was someone else.
Orc shamans' Green Magic. They mainly used forest mushrooms, and the spell's effect varied by type. The standard was aphrodisiac spores for heightened sensitivity. Depending on the shaman's skill, they could amp bodily sensitivity up to 30,000 times—even a famed knight couldn't twitch a finger before getting subdued.
But to orcs, shamans were key to tribal survival. Neutralize adventurer parties with spores, kill the men, rape the women. If you could rape the women and turn the men into women? You'd double your breeding stock over other hordes—foundation for a little orc kingdom.
Orcs were all males; they needed other races' females to birth males. Even male prey got forcibly remade into broodmares. That ruthless skill was rare even among orc shamans.
"Elena, you grabbed all the loot from that shaman, right?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Good."
Rare mob drops were mandatory grabs.
Hans's voice trembled. "Wh-what do we do now? Our bodies... my body... snff... this hideous thing..."
"Sob..."
Hans clutched her breasts roughly, wailing; Duke yanked the blanket over her face, shuddering. It was a gruesome sight, hard to even speak on.
'Hate to say it, but...'
Eck didn't give a damn.
"This is good."
"""Huh?"""
Everyone around me froze, question marks practically floating over their heads.
"Hans, Duke. You came to me because you wanted to make it as adventurers. Blunt truth: you'd have died soon without this."
I issued my cold death sentence. Hans and Duke wouldn't have lasted. Just this incident showed—if I sat back, this party was on track for a full wipe soon.
Adventuring was personal responsibility. Don't expect coddling. Fools who did were all six feet under. Facing an orc shaman—clearly higher rank—without even scouting? Insane.
"Elena, listen up too—no more wax in those ears. I've been picking prey you could beat. But you never once asked what monster, what habits."
Basic stuff like that, and she never inquired. I'd hoped she'd figure it out, but like game-Elena, she charged blindly and self-destructed. Knowing the root cause, I couldn't keep scolding... but Eck could.
"I picked a guy whose Green Magic you could test, safe even if ambushed. Otherwise, some—or all—of you wouldn't be here. You're disqualified as leader, Elena."
"..."
Elena shut her mouth.
"But this outcome? Unexpected, even for me. Call it good luck."
Hans and Duke were now women—stunners orcs would go mad for.
"Men have too many drawbacks for adventuring. If you wanna keep going, see this as a blessing in disguise."
They flinched at my icy push, swallowing their grief.
"And be more careful next time. Basic scouting would've dodged that spell easy. Mira."
"Y-Yes."
"Hunter who doesn't know Green Magic?"
"...Sorry."
"This mess? All on your carelessness and ignorance."
I shattered their naive hope of handouts. They had to learn this lesson.
"Blame no one. Be grateful you're breathing. All this? Your own fault. Learn it. Fail to, and you'll all end up orc broodmares."
Someone gulped dryly. Eck's memory flashed: fresh adventurer me, beaten bloody while engraving seniors' lessons into my body.
I pointed east. "Tomorrow, scout the eastern woods."
The bedridden kids snapped their heads up, faces paling. Awkward silence shattered.
"T-Tomorrow? Our bodies are like this right now..."
Hans grabbed her breasts in horror at my order.
"Limbs work fine, don't they? Body turns female, suddenly can't hold a sword? Go adapt—take a walk."
I clapped Elena's shoulder. "Elena, time's tight. No whining—get 'em discharged and drill the training grounds extra laps."
I pinned them with a oppressive glare.
"B-But..."
"Don't like it? Leave the party now. Wanna end up whoring on the streets in that body? Keep yapping."
"""..."""
Silence blanketed the clinic corner. Fear them. Better than slacking on false hope. Face the inescapable, think breakthrough—that's survival.
Terror-filled eyes peeked at me; trembling lips clamped shut. No escape. Quit adventuring? Back-alley brothel, selling body. Or waitress like Jeina, groped daily, haggling into whoring anyway.
Realizing it, Hans and Duke's moods shifted.
"Sorry..."
"...We'll do our best."
Hans bowed; Duke threw off the blanket, sitting up.
"Elena."
"Yes."
"Handle the rest."
"M-Me?"
"Leaders manage their members."
I left Elena and exited. On the way out, I paid the smiling priestess—framed as donation, really treatment fees.
The next day, Elena took her party to scout the eastern woods. This time, she asked mission details, what to investigate, target traits—brought back solid intel. Troll recon. Check their movements firsthand, prep before subjugating.
Meanwhile, I headed to the back alleys. Dead end with one door. Looked like a wall at a glance, but glance up: not a building wall. Faux partition between structures. Midway, iron door disguised as a wooden home entrance.
Knock knock.
Chains rattled inside; small barred window opened. The peeking eyes recognized me from yesterday. Chains clanked free; door creaked inward.
Beyond: narrow, dim alley into the building. Ammonia sourness choked the air.
Alchemist district. Unlike mages, alchemy got strict oversight. Half-isolated zone for permitted researchers. Past the gatekeeper, I followed yesterday's route deeper.
Walking stimulated my nasal membranes nonstop—not pleasant. Dodged mystery waste piles strewn everywhere.
Shabby, unclean building. Door handle screeched long and grating. Inside: nose-stab of mixed herbs and ores. Signature alchemist workshop smell—thicker than alley ammonia, steamy with bitter herbs.
Shelves crammed with potion vials and ore lumps; ceiling dangled dried herb bundles swaying. At the back workbench, the white-haired geezer kept at his reagents, ignoring his customer.
"Old man, turning away business?"
"Here."
He jerked his head, pointing. Corner behind workbench: cloth-covered lump. I lifted it—refined red log. Rough exterior smoothed; red magic pulsed faintly along the grain.
Scraped bark infused heartwood, concentrating Red Magic Stone—raw log now solid crimson ore.
I pocketed the high-grade Red Magic Stone.
'Awaken Elena in the dungeon, then use this... she'll master an advanced skill right away.' She'd surpass me then.
Hit me anew: still tutorial phase. But original plot's death clock ticked closer, heart pounding.
'Not much time.'
The upcoming dungeon would awaken her. Then, unstoppable.
'Gotta make her rely on me first.'
Prep sounded exhausting, but necessary. I let slip a wry smile.
"Flawless work as always, old man."
"Hmph. Stating the obvious."
He turned away, sheepish.