The Forty-Something Auntie Casts Nice Boat

The moment the sparring evaluations began, every gaze in the yard swung toward Ryushia.

The girls looked at her with eyes full of longing.

"Ryushia is just so cool!"

"She's pretty, she's got an amazing figure, and she doesn't even fawn over guys... she just takes the lead and goes for it..."

"Haaaah... that easy little smile she wears when she's cutting enemies down... my heart starts pounding all by itself..."

"Ehh."

The girls' reactions toward her were, all in all, remarkably warm. She always carried herself with that lofty, unshakable strength, and whenever she flashed a beautiful smile or unfurled some dazzling piece of swordwork, they swore she looked like a prince astride a white horse.

Ryushia was indifferent to them — but that very indifference had, before anyone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠noticed, crystallized into a cool, unapproachable charm, and she had become the object of every girl in class's envy. Overwhelming martial power, the leadership to command the strong, and looks to match. They wanted to get closer, but the people already at her side were powerhouses in their own right, and the fear of becoming a burden kept them orbiting from a distance.

So the instant they were given time to work together, they seized the chance without a second's hesitation.

"Oh my. I do quite enjoy keeping company with ladies, you know?"

"Kyaaaa~!"

Ryushia — who had originally been a man — didn't seem to mind the girls' enthusiastic welcome in the slightest. She naturally draped her arms over the shoulders of the students standing on either side of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her.

"H-her chest is so huge..."

"Prince..."

That gentle smile, and the dizzying scent of her skin, were enough to bewitch even other women.

There were, however, a few people watching the girl who had stolen the entire class's hearts in a matter of seconds... and they did not look pleased.

"Damn it... weren't we supposed to be comrades?! Why do you look so practiced at hitting on people?!"

Lee Jinwoo, feeling the sting of betrayal as a fellow member of the Forever Alone Club.

"Hmph. To think a warrior like you would be bewitched by those frail little wenches..."

Elia, who had pursued the martial path alongside her, now disappointed that she had abandoned the way of the warrior.

"That's some bullshit, desu wa."

Arkis, thoroughly disgusted by Ryushia's sudden peacocking.

"Wait, I thought Jinwoo liked Sia? You just got NTR'd."

"Who'd you learn that from."

"From Sia."

"..."

Iflata, too, watched with a faintly complicated look on her face.

"Fufu... shall I give you a thorough, heartfelt lesson, then?"

"Yes!!"

Whether Ryushia was aware of all the commotion or not, she remained perfectly at ease.

The heroines are all Jinwoo's harem targets anyway. I'm not even a heroine — so why don't I have a little fun with the other girls?

That was her honest thinking. While Jinwoo was off enjoying his harem life surrounded by countless women, her plan was to stand to the side, charm a handful of mob characters, and savor a nice, pink-tinted academy romance of her own.

She knew full well that other men looked her over with hungry eyes, and her own sense of masculinity rejected that with violent intensity. Men were therefore off the table as romantic prospects. The only targets that didn't trigger that revulsion were other women.

She had opened her heart a crack for Jinwoo, since he was her closest friend... but anything beyond that, she honestly wasn't sure about.

"Jinwoo, you go enjoy yourself with those pretty heroines. I'll go play with these little cuties for a bit."

Well. Even if this body is a woman's, I should still get to have my fun, right?

"Hrm..."

Jinwoo, however, was still glaring at her with a thoroughly unamused look.

"H-here I come!"

"Yes~"

Ryushia had, at some point, set down her sense of duty as a veteran player and was simply savoring her happiness.

Tak!!

"Ah, she blocked it..."

"Keep your stance a little wider — and you'll need more practice with your grip."

She took the girls' adorable little attacks, then offered feedback in return. They were mob characters, sure, but they were still pretty girls, so sticking close to them wasn't exactly a hardship. She snuck in a little skinship while they sparred, and whenever she stepped in close to correct something...

Squish.

"Hyaat?!"

"Yes? What's the matter?"

The reactions of the girls whose heads had just been pressed into her chest were, she had to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠admit, pretty entertaining.

"I-I'm next!"

"Me too!!"

"Fufu. Just wait a little, okay? My little kittens."

"KYAAAAA~~~!!!"

"Ugh, how infuriating, desu wa."

My forever-alone days are over.

I already turned into a woman, so I figured I might as well try being a playboy for once.

"No... Sia, you're supposed to be a member of the Forever Alone Club with me... if you keep this up..."

And off in the distance, Jinwoo, watching it all in real time, began a rapid descent into menhera.

"Here I cooome! Haaaaah!!"

"Yes!"

And so the next girl stepped up to spar with Ryushia, when—

KRAAAAAANG!!!!

"?!"

The ordinary wooden sword her opponent had swung was wreathed in a powerful surge of demonic energy.

The bright, bob-haired girl's demeanor flipped in an instant. Murderous intent poured off her in waves as she lunged.

This girl was supposed to be ordinary — where is this power coming from...?!

"W-wait?!"

Ryushia, dazed and floating from being surrounded by girls, had left an opening wide open...

BOOOOOM!!!

"...What do you think you're doing."

Professor Vagina caught the girl's wooden sword on her heavy armor and spat the words out.

"So you're the Demon King of the Demon Realm... Daredevil. What brings you here?"

"You know my identity. That demonic energy — don't tell me you're the Necromancer?"

The two of them stood locked together, each feeling a flicker of old familiarity in the other.

"That's right. I am the Necromancer, Fifth Finger of Redanis. I need to kill Ryushia, so please step aside."

"You will not lay a hand on my student. I've already called for Professor Lamia."

"Haha, you mean her? That woman went and had a kid — she's gone soft. She's no match for me!"

KRRRK-KRRRK!!!

The girl unleashed a monstrous strength that defied belief, driving Vagina back with the wooden sword as she spoke.

"Right... I remember now. This girl went missing during a Redanis subjugation mission. You used your power to bring a dead student back to life?"

"That's right. Thanks to you incompetent professors, slipping in was easy."

Ryushia, her soul having left her body, dropped onto the ground in a heap and stared blankly at the absurd scene unfolding in front of her.

"Eh...?"

No, what the hell is this. Where did my rose-colored academy life go?

The girl who was hitting on me is a corpse assassin?

"That's far enough!!"

KRA-KOOM!!!

Lightning came crashing down onto the training grounds, right into the standoff between Vagina and the Necromancer.

"Hahat... Lamia, you bitch... so you were watching!?"

The bob-haired girl grinned wide enough to split her face, staring at the lightning mage who had appeared before her.

"You. How dare you insult my student's pride. I will not forgive this."

"Oh my, weren't we friends? That's rather cold of you."

"...Haaah."

Lamia drew up her mana with the look of a woman who simply could not stand to look at this ugly thing any longer.

"Begone."

CRACK-CRACK-CRACKLE!!!

As if the woman weren't even worth hearing out, she loosed a bolt of lightning straight into the Necromancer's thrall.

"Khhehh... Lamia, Vagina, Ryushia...!! We'll meet again!!"

Fssssss...

In the end, the fierce current stripped her skin away, revealing the rotting flesh beneath, and she crumbled into nothing.

Thud...

Lamia gazed quietly down at the bone dust, a complicated look on her face.

"..."

Ryushia, too, watched the end of the enemy who had ambushed her, her expression hollow.

The moment she had dreamed of a fresh, budding romance, a hideous shadow of death had fallen over her...

Fate with women, her ass. Was she just destined to live alone after all?

"Ryushia! Are you okay?!"

And then Jinwoo, who had come sprinting over in a panic to save a Ryushia sunk in despair.

"Jinwoo, I think I might just have to live as a virgin for the rest of my life..."

"Huh?"

Squeeeze...

The black-haired girl took the hand he held out to her and spoke, looking terribly sad.

"...I just wanted to hang out with some girls a little. I almost got stabbed to death. Maybe I'm just the kind of person who's incompatible with romance..."

"Hah... haha! That's not true, right?! There's definitely a good person out there for you, so don't get too down! They might even be... right next to you, you know...?"

Seeing Ryushia all deflated and dejected, Jinwoo — ironically enough — put on a bright expression as he comforted her.

"Aah~ so I got found out after all."

A faint sigh echoed through a dark stone building.

"So you failed, I take it, Hecate."

"Yes... it would seem so. I ran into a friend who knows me, you see."

Dyer, the First Finger, regarded the Necromancer's face slowly as he spoke.

"Lamia, is it... She is a capable woman."

"Hmph. Capable or not, she can't see the bigger picture."

A woman with black hair, blue eyes, and a voluptuous figure crossed her arms as she spat the words. Her skin was pale to the point of looking white, and her robe barely contained her ample chest. In contrast to her slender waist, her wide, mature hips swayed with every step, radiating a grown woman's allure. She walked as if showing off the sensual thighs bared by her short skirt, adjusted her witch's hat, and murmured with an intrigued little smile.

"Heheh... Ryushia. You've gotten quite sloppy after taking down Maestro, haven't you?"

The Fifth Finger. Hecate the Necromancer.

A specialist in necromancy, and in the intelligence warfare that came with it. She had also been classmates with the lightning mage Lamia.

"Hey, auntie. You couldn't even kill a kid who let her guard down... going soft like that saggy belly of yours?"

A girl sitting on a pile of rubble, however, was busy mocking her in the most sarcastic tone she could muster. Silver hair tied in a ponytail, golden eyes, a beautiful girl whose figure was slender — if anything, a little on the modest side.

The Seventh Finger... and the direct disciple of Arhan, the Tenth Finger.

Arin of the Swift Sword.

"...Watch your mouth."

"Yep~ turning forty next year, right? Geriatric pregnancy, right? Chicken coop, right? No man would want a dried-up old hag who's lost all her value as a woman, right?"

Hecate's veins stood out as she issued the warning, but Arin was still young enough that she was perfectly content to needle her with lines she'd picked up on the internet.

"Ha! I don't bind myself to fleeting relationships between men and women... not as long as I have my eternal thralls."

"A spinster saying that just makes it sadder, you know? Maybe get some eggs frozen in advance? What're you gonna do when you go infertile..."

"Orphan."

"Henhouse."

In the end, the war of words between them blew past WWE and went straight into UFC territory.

"An orphan who self-studied her homeschooling with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a hundred-and-fifty-dollar 'guaranteed pass' online lecture package."

"A spent-hen coop that stinks of rotting chicken bones."

"A brat who stole my ID card because she doesn't even have parents to do age verification on a gaming site."

"A henhouse so wrinkly that when the game company calls, they're gonna ask if you're the grandma instead of the parent."

"Fine. I'm closing the account."

"...I'm sorry."

The argument between the Necromancer and Arin ended, as expected, in a victory for Hecate — the adult.

"Fuuuck... I grinded two thousand matches on that account just to hit Gold..."

"You suck at the game anyway, so stop dumping so much cash into it. Is it normal for my phone bill to get charged fifteen hundred bucks? Keep this up and I'm cutting your allowance."

"Hiiing..."

Arhan had only ever taught her the sword to begin with; Hecate had been the one handling all of Arin's actual upbringing... so this defeat had been a foregone conclusion.

"Hey, hey! Hecate! If you're her legal guardian, then talk her down properly! You really wanna have a shouting match with a poor kid who doesn't even have a mom or dad?"

"Emily..."

Emily, who had found the whole fight unpleasant, snapped at the witch and scolded her.

"Hey, you! Show the kid without parents a little love! At least enough so she doesn't walk around looking like an orphan..."

"A washed-up fifty-year-old delisted stock pretending to be a kid in a magical girl costume, you psycho..."

"Hey. You wanna die? Face-down. Now."

Of course, Arin's complete lack of tact had just stomped squarely on Emily's reverse scale.

"W-wait!! Please calm down!"

"Hecate, are you not going to get a grip either? Look at the way that brat talks to an adult."

Whoosh!!

"Uh... unnie? I was kidding..."

"Kidding my ass. Get over here."

"Emily!! You've lost it!"

A furious Emily, and an Arin who had only just realized she'd screwed up.

Brat though she was, Hecate still lived by the old saying that even the unloved child gets an extra rice cake — and desperately threw herself into protecting Arin.

"...I'm going to lose my mind."

Dyer, the head of the organization, took one look at the women yanking each other by the hair, let out a sigh, and closed his eyes.

A peaceful... family-like villain organization, as always. This was Redanis.