Chapter 65
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Life
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Rattle, rattle.
The noise from the miscellaneous junk piled up in the cargo hold bumping against each other.
The sensation of the wooden wheels grinding through the dirt being transmitted straight to my ass...
...My asshole's vibrating.
We were slipping through the streets of Nahark, blended in among a merchant caravan's line of wagons.
Our destination was beyond the city walls. Our business: mercenary work.
To fulfill a guild commission.
"......"
I rested my chin on my hand, staring blankly at the two women sitting across from me.
More precisely, at Noy, who was sitting on Baekrin's lap.
"Uuungh......"
Noy clutched the hem of Baekrin's cloak tightly, as if her embrace was the most natural thing in the world, and dozed off with her head bobbing.
Baekrin scowled like Noy was a nuisance, but she left her be without a word.
Watching the scene, a faint sense of dissonance crept in.
The size difference.
For starters, this bitch Baekrin. She wasn't short for a girl,
but her head was still about half the size of mine.
If we stood face-to-face, eye to eye, it wouldn't hit my neck or chest exactly—more like an awkward height where her head reached my chin.
That time in front of the door... when I held her close for some affection,
she tilted her head down a bit, creating a nice picture.
Fuck, she just needs to be a little taller.
Anyway, with this body's height around the low 170s,
if a human head from crown to chin measures about 20cm or so,
then she's probably around 160cm, maybe a bit less.
But Noy? Being generous, she barely tops a meter.
'......She's small.'
Even accounting for growing up malnourished in the slums on shit water, isn't this a bit extreme?
From what I knew, girls' growth plates close around mid-teens, when puberty hits.
Growth stops about 1-2 years after their first period.
But how old is our little food-munching idiot? Fifteen.
Yeah, sure, her skull got crushed or whatever from some powder bullshit,
and she might be smaller than average.
But she's basically the height of a five- or six-year-old kid.
No body hair, and I've never seen her menstruate.
Obviously, I'm not some pedo who keeps tabs on that.
She still can't handle her own bathroom breaks or baths properly, so I found out the hard way.
Anyway, what about this one?
'......Is she gonna stay like that forever?'
Even after five more years, ten more years—still that height, flat chest?
Living her whole life with an elementary school physique, not even upper grades but lower?
Turning into a legendary creature, a 'legal loli'?
Noy's gotta get married someday,
and who but a loli-con pervert would take someone that small?
As her temporary dad—hell, permanent now—my mood soured instantly. Might as well not send her off.
And with that tiny body, can she even survive in this barbaric world on her own?
Can those little arms and hands grip farm tools or kitchen utensils? A knife? Forget it.
If shit hits the fan and she has to run, her short strides mean she'll get caught quick.
In the end, she'll need someone carrying her around her whole life...
'......That someone's me.'
Not temporary dad, but forever dad.
Hitting that realization, my vision went dark.
As those grim thoughts swirled,
"......Hey."
Baekrin called out to me in an irritated tone.
"......?"
"Take her."
She lifted Noy off her lap and thrust her toward me.
"Why? She's sleeping fine."
"My legs are numb. And she's heavy."
Heavy my ass—she could lift my whole body if she wanted.
But her face said 'take her or I toss her,' so I had no choice but to open my arms.
"Gimme, gimme. Sigh."
I caught the ragdoll-like Noy and settled her on my lap.
Even half-asleep, she mumbled and rubbed her face against my chest.
"Uuuun...... Daddy......"
"Yeah, when the hell are you gonna grow, you little shit..."
I patted her back and glanced back at Baekrin.
She was rubbing her thighs,
"From now on, you carry her the whole time. Kids are your job."
She nailed it down like that, then grumbled more.
"Even with you here, why does she keep clinging to me? Such a pain."
"Well, that's obvious, isn't it?"
I chuckled and adjusted Noy in my arms.
"Kids naturally prefer a woman's embrace."
And I gave her chest area a quick once-over.
"Especially a body like yours, with those big tits."
"......Why's that?"
Baekrin furrowed her brow like she genuinely didn't get it.
"Well, for one, it's warm and soft?
And... dads' chests don't usually produce milk."
"......I don't produce milk either."
She glanced down at her breasts and replied sullenly.
"You never know."
I lowered my voice and leaned forward.
"If we keep at it like last night and the night before, grinding away...
Maybe you'll get pregnant someday, and the milk'll come gushing out? Huh?"
"......"
Baekrin shot me a disgusted look,
"Fucking pervert. Pregnant? As if."
"Why not? Effort never betrays. Just last night alone, I came inside you twice..."
"......Shut up."
With that, she whipped her head away.
But I clearly saw her ears flush red as she stared out the window flap.
Her lips even twitched up just a bit.
Like she was embarrassed, but weirdly satisfied too.
What a lewd, sneaky bitch.
"And who's the pervert? Who dragged me to her room two nights in a row while I was just resting?"
"......"
"Say it, you fucking mistress. Who?"
No answer. Dead silence.
Oh, playing innocent now, huh?
But my mind had crystal-clear replays of last night and the night before.
.....
After rejoining the group and renting two inn rooms to rest,
this bitch brazenly summoned me to her room and fucked me.
Same excuse both times.
[Gotta train.]
She'd treat me like a human battery, hugging and rolling around,
and when my dick got mad and perked up?
Training be damned—she'd pounce.
[......It's grown.]
[Of course.]
[Then we gotta.]
After that, when we fucked, she insisted on top.
Riding me, shaking her hips, those huge tits bouncing up and down.
Sweat-soaked hair, face twisted in pleasure, hands pressing on my chest.
Still vivid enough to linger in my eyes.
'......Acting all nonchalant now.'
That profile desperately looking away overlapped with the face gasping and moaning on top of me last night.
Tsk. Haa...
Just the mental replay made my mouth water.
Anyway, once we leave the kingdom like this, we'll camp out.
Wonder how this horny bitch'll act then. Drag me somewhere secluded?
If so, maybe outdoor sex this time.
That blue-balled stuff from porn and doujins.
Heh heh. Ukiki.
Whatever, I'm game. Always welcome.
Sex slave or fuckbuddy, feels good is feels good.
As those thoughts ran through my head,
Screech—
The rattling wagon came to a stop.
[Everyone, step out for a bit.]
Kain's voice came from outside, where he sat with the driver.
[Gotta get inspected.]
We'd reached the gate.
"......Hid it well?"
Baekrin nodded at my question.
With slight tension, we climbed out of the wagon.
.....
"Next!"
The gate area was chaos.
A line of wagons trying to exit, mixed with imperial knights shouting as they searched every inch.
"Open the cargo! Empty everything out!"
"Aigoo, sir knight! It's just grain sacks!"
"Quiet! Cooperate or lose your head!"
"Eek...!"
The knights rummaged like they were hunting treasure, eyes blazing.
This had become daily life since the empire invaded.
To avoid paying that insane 330,000-whatever astronomical reparations,
they demanded cooperation in tearing the place apart.
"Next, move up."
Our turn came, and the three knights who'd just torn apart the previous wagon approached.
The front one asked the older Kain in a stiff voice.
"You lot mercenaries?"
"Yes."
He glanced at our group's ID bands on our arms and the tattoo on my back,
"Destination?"
Starting the interrogation.
"Northwest forest."
"That's quite a ways from here, northwest forest?"
"We don't pick jobs by distance. Money talks."
The old man replied smoothly, pulling out the guild commission from his pocket to show.
The knight checked the guild seal and nodded.
"Inspecting cargo. Cooperate."
Two rummaged the wagon we rode in,
while the talker patted us down.
He checked Kain and Noy's pockets thoroughly, then in front of Baekrin,
"......Cloak, open it."
Baekrin wordlessly parted her cloak.
The knight's eyes lingered on the curves under her tight training clothes,
but he quickly schooled his face and checked her waist and back.
Just her usual curved sword and five kunai.
"Nothing but weapons."
"......Can I close the cloak?"
"Ahem, sorry."
He cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured toward the gate.
"Clear. Pass."
.....
Rattle, rattle.
As the walls receded and the road turned to quiet unpaved dirt, I nudged Baekrin.
"Show me."
She scanned around, then slowly slid her hand to her chest.
Schup.
Her hand vanished into her deep cleavage, then reemerged.
"Here."
In her hand:
[So these are sealed for now. Or forever.]
A shoulder epaulet with a shield emblem, and a short sword with a jeweled hilt.
"Warm."
I felt her body heat as I took them.
"Natural tit safe beats all. Even has insulation."
Baekrin snorted in disbelief.
"Vulgar bastard... But you're really tossing them?"
"Gotta. What else?"
"Sell 'em. Good money."
"Pity, but better than trouble."
I fiddled with the fine leather sheath.
This was why we took the week-long trek to the northwest forest subjugation.
"With them poking like demons,
dump it in the kingdom or nearby, and it might get found someday.
Better chuck it deep in uninhabited woods or off a cliff."
Or bury it.
"The epaulet maybe, but... that sword's top quality."
Baekrin smacked her lips, eyes glued to the short sword.
Makes sense—she fished it from the sea herself.
Of course I'm reluctant too. Would sell for a fortune if possible.
The ornate sheath, blue gem on the hilt, subtle engravings—nothing ordinary.
Shing. Draw the blade: pristine silver gleaming beautifully.
Way better than my crappy dagger.
Perfect grip, flawless seam between blade and hilt—definite luxury item.
Fence it to a receiver, and yeah, big payout like she said.
But,
"No. Toss both."
I shook my head firmly.
"No amount of money's worth gambling our lives."
Why'd I come to this continent? Fled execution,
ultimate goal: settle safely.
Trouble over one sword?
Back to empire's pursuit, fugitive life? That's ass-backwards.
"Money we can make. Trust me."
I thumped my chest confidently.
"I'll make us rich for sure."
"......What makes you so cocky? You're a slave."
Baekrin prodded my status, but I brushed it off.
"Merc work first for seed money... capital.
Then I'll grow it proper."
I spread my fingers, then made an OK sign with thumb and index.
Not some community gesture. Money sign.
Put it to lips and stick out tongue? Oral fellatio sign.
"Even if this shit world's all about power and status,
it's still money eats money. And I'm a bloodhound for cash."
"......Somewhat."
"Later, this short sword'll be pocket lint. We'll live plush.
Don't sweat it now. Play it straight for a bit."
Her face stayed sulky, but she nodded.
Not blind trust,
but she bought my logic somewhat.
Yeah.
Earn hard now, more later.
And more important than earning well: living well.
'......I earned back then too.'
South Gate Tavern. That rotting slum hole,
remodeled into a lounge-like joint, raking in cash.
Young me was high on confidence, buzzing.
Sure new concepts would print money in this primitive world.
Apply past-life knowledge for better life.
Not entirely wrong.
That cheap brothel's sales skyrocketed overnight.
But results? Rinea dead.
Building burned to ash.
Miserable failure.
But not worthless.
That scorching lesson, face melting, etched into bone:
Connections matter.
Genius ideas make money, but no force to protect? Gangsters steal or torch it.
Jerome the glasses nerd, me—we had no backup.
Funny, later as a bastard slave, Sharl backed me.
Storm anywhere, bitch all we want behind backs—no fallout.
Guanxi makes or breaks.
Even more in this caste world than past life.
Unless noble-born,
bottom-feeder getting rich means building power alongside cash.
Our group? No special status, no solid backup.
Kain's got Kaintrea ties despite discharge,
but that damn house'd kill me on sight—count as none.
Anyway, power? Force? Zilch.
Know your place first.
No protection? Holding too much is crime.
Invent iPhone or Bitcoin here (can't), stun the world?
Covetous fucks swarm, snatch it—done.
Lucky if just robbed; likelier death or buried alive.
Best path:
[Earn moderately, stay low-key.]
Keep head down, play safe.
Rich enough others envy 'that guy's doing well,'
not 'rob him, life-changing!' blade-waving level.
That richness.
Grand ambitions? Dog food.
World conquest? Top merchant? Not my circus.
Time for that? Fuck Baekrin once more, profit.
Just keep my people fed—better food,
more leisure,
warmer beds.
Safe, long-term.
Enough.
I hammered these thoughts home like pork cutlet mallet,
then looked at Baekrin.
She's in 'my people'—prime candidate for my grand harem,
first wife in one husband multiple setup.
Bit bitchy personality, but killer tits and ass. Loyal too.
And she took my V-card.
Number one.
Ranks might shift...
But now, Baekrin tops. Only one anyway.
"......?"
She caught my hot gaze, tilted head mouthing 'why?'
I grinned, finger-drawing in air.
"Once we got cash."
Excited voice, shared my future plan.
"Buy a house."
Home sweet home.
"...House?"
"Yeah. Can't hop rundown inns forever.
Get a proper place, live cushy lifelong."
I counted on fingers.
"Big rooms, three total."
"......Why three?"
"Why? Math not add up?"
Unfolded pinky first.
"One for old man. Bad knees—ground floor."
Next, ring finger.
"One for Noy. Loves me daddy, you mommy now,
but puberty hits? Privacy needed."
(Fifteen's past due, but anyway.)
Third, middle finger.
"Last one, biggest sunlit master bedroom..."
Pointed index at her: YOU?
Thumb at me: and ME!
"You and me."
"...Hah, who says I share a room with you?"
Fucking tsundere bitch.
"Tch, hate it? Fine.
One room: no training excuses needed, fuck day and night."
"......"
Baekrin eyed me like I was absurd,
"......I'll think about it."
Small voice, not full disgust.
So damn tsundere.
[I... missed you. A lot.]
Remembers that straight ball, huh.
"Yeah, later anyway."
I shrugged, flopped back in cargo.
Merc work: just initial capital tool. Not lifelong.
Our group's edge is fighting, so do it till settled funds,
then quit. Me, Kain, Baekrin—all agree.
Braindead kid excluded.
Why? High pay's for danger.
Life on line, bloody hassle.
Who doesn't value their neck?
Death comes varied:
Overmatched monster cocky-kill chow,
or tetanus from trash mob's rusty blade.
Easy or hard commissions,
mercs bet lives for pot—gamblers.
Like loan shark slots dopamine junkie.
Not a game: no levels, no stat ups from kills.
All for cash.
Once capital's good, pivot livelihoods.
Mull safe, comfy, profitable.
Use for house, dream comfy life...
Yeah, harem sex life. Sex included.
Why'd harem dreamer pitch three-room house, you-and-me room?
Like pure love herbivore.
As said,
"Life's precious."
"......What?"
"Nothing. Muttering."
Too soon for max hopes aloud.
One more time:
Life,
is precious.