Hormone Shots, a Prince on the Brink of Castration, and the Transgender Who Makes Men's Hearts Race (1)
The Engineering Club's clubroom was tucked away in a forgotten corner of the main building.
Which was only natural.
With a grand total of three members — commoners, no less — it was the weakest of the weak, a club so insignificant it barely registered on the academy's radar.
So rarely did anyone pass by that the corridor leading to the clubroom carried a distinctly desolate air. There was something vaguely unsettling about it, like stumbling across an abandoned house or a condemned asylum.
"...Lord Kylian. This place is, well... a bit much."
His guard knight wanted desperately to talk him out of it. One look at the place and it practically radiated the lair of a dark sorcerer. And surely a club made up of nothing but commoners couldn't have produced a proper remedy. If anything went wrong, the one who'd have to offer up her neck in penance would be her — so of course she wanted to grab his leg and physically stop him from taking another step.
But Kylian showed no intention of paying her any mind.
"A commoner's club being treated this poorly is only to be expected. The Great Sage taught us not to discriminate among disciples by station, yet here I find reality contradicting his words. How disappointing."
He was a man without prejudice.
Where in the world was it written that anyone born of noble blood was automatically capable, and anyone born of common blood incapable? Talent was born wherever it pleased, regardless of class.
Look back through history — wasn't that Great Sage himself a commoner? And the previous Hero as well?
For that very reason, Kylian had strived to make himself capable. And one pillar of that effort was exercise.
Where does strength come from?
From muscle, obviously!
And so he built his muscle. For the sake of excelling in both pen and blade — so that he could protect himself even without a guard knight at his side.
"We press on."
Kylian took the lead. Without hesitation he strode down the dust-choked corridor, brushing away invisible cobwebs as he went.
"Is this the place?"
At last, the end of the hallway. Knock knock.
Kylian rapped his knuckles against the battered wooden door.
"Yes, come in!"
A man's voice answered from within. This was the mage — the man who made that miraculous chocolate that boosted his training gains!
Kylian, whom modern folk would have called a certified gym rat — a man obsessed with training and muscle beyond all reason — opened the door with his heart racing.
Creeeak—
As the complaining hinges gave way, clouds of settled dust billowed out like smoke.
Waving the haze aside with his palm, he stepped inside — and with a squeal of protest, the chair on the far side spun a full one-eighty degrees to greet its guests.
"Welcome."
The mage Owen sat at the table, chin resting on his laced fingers. People say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but honestly, judging by appearances is just what humans do.
Studies on innocent children have even shown they consistently rate the ugly as the more suspicious party — proof enough that appearance is a decisive factor in the impression a person makes.
And in that spirit, the guard knight went ahead and let her prejudice get the better of her.
A handsome face. Broad shoulders, a muscular frame. And the impressive height that only revealed itself when he rose to attend to his guests.
'There's no way a man like this is some gloomy dark mage!'
Reassured by his wholesome good looks, the guard knight found her guard lowering of its own accord.
Yes, indeed.
Today's guard knight was, in fact, a woman.
"You mentioned wanting a drug that builds muscle."
I slid open the table drawer, scooped out the things I'd stashed inside, and set them on the table with a confident thump.
The reactions of my two guests split cleanly in two. One had eyes locked firmly on the items I'd laid out; the knight standing behind him had eyes locked firmly on me. The reason was obvious. The one in front was a man, and the knight behind him was a woman.
"This is the drug in question."
I held up a large glass vial of amber liquid and a syringe. The needle flashed in the dim light, and my guest's face registered a flicker of alarm at its wicked point.
Yeah, no. I get it. Needles are scary.
In an era without syringes, I can only imagine — the man probably thought I intended to stab him with what looked like an actual blade.
"This medicine must be injected directly into the muscle using this syringe."
"What did you say...?"
"It may seem frightening at first, but it doesn't hurt all that much. A slight sting, I'd say, at most."
"What is the principle behind it? I would hear the explanation first, if you please."
So he doesn't balk even at the sight of a needle. That's what a real man looks like.
"The human body produces what we call hormones. Tell me, sir — what do you believe is the difference between a man and a woman?"
"A man's strength is great and a woman's is meager. Though that holds true only as a general rule."
"Exactly right. That difference comes down to muscle mass — and what decides that difference in muscle is precisely the hormones."
Male hormones pack on more muscle; female hormones develop the breasts. Nearly every other difference between men and women can be traced back to hormones as well — they shape the human body to a remarkable degree.
"This drug replicates the role of the male hormone. By introducing more of it into your body, it accelerates both the recovery and the growth of your muscle."
"Hmm. I see. 'Hormone' is a word I've never heard before, but the logic holds. Is its efficacy certain?"
"Absolutely."
My guest looked to be weighing his options seriously. Understandable — it was a drug he'd never laid eyes on, and there was the small matter of stabbing a needle into his own body.
But I believed. A gym rat whose whole existence revolved around building muscle would agonize for exactly three seconds and then buy. The true believer's desperate yearning for bigger muscle would drive him to take the risk — gladly.
"Lord Kylian."
It was the guard knight who cut in.
"Administering a drug whose safety is unproven is dangerous."
"Your words are certainly sound."
"Mage. It would be safe for a woman to take this hormone as well, yes?"
"Yes, no problem at all."
"Then I shall take the first dose. And I would like you to teach me how this injection is administered."
"Very well. Could you roll up your sleeve and extend your arm for me?"
The male guest named Kylian yielded his seat, and the guard knight sat down in his place. She stripped off the armor she wore and bared the flesh of her arm for the injection.
"Before the shot, I'll disinfect the area. Think of it as keeping anything dirty from getting into your body."
"Understood."
I took her arm in my hand, soaked a cloth with alcohol, and rubbed it around the injection site. Perhaps it tickled? Her lips kept twitching and pursing.
"You see... mm — no, it's nothing! It's certainly not because a handsome man is holding my arm that I feel this way. This is all in service of Lord Kylian."
When Kylian called her name in exasperated disbelief, the guard knight cleared her throat and laboriously reassembled her melted expression. Anyway.
I pierced the vial with the needle and drew the drug up in a long, smooth pull. Tiny droplets clung to the syringe; I flicked it twice with a fingertip.
"Ready?"
"Gently, if you would...!"
"It stings."
I pressed the needle lightly against her taut, springy skin. A moment later it slid through, sinking into the flesh.
It was barely more than a pinprick, and yet the guard knight flushed crimson and fussed like a maiden at her first dance.
"Haah... it's inside me now..."
Then I pushed the plunger. The rubber seal descended, sending the liquid within streaming down through the needle.
"It's flowing innnside meee..."
What on earth is wrong with this girl?
Watching the guard knight writhe and squirm while letting out breathy little moans was beyond ridiculous. I found myself wanting the whole ordeal over with as quickly as possible, so I withdrew the needle and pressed a clean cloth gently against the puncture.
"Just hold light pressure there until the bleeding stops."
"...Ahem. Understood."
And so Kylian and the guard knight lingered in the clubroom for a while, monitoring their bodies for any abnormality.
About an hour had passed, I'd say, when the guard knight spoke up.
"I detect no trace of poison."
Apparently she had some ability for confirming the presence of toxins. Come to think of it, I'd heard that many of those who served as noble bodyguards awakened such magic. Those who failed to awaken died on the job — so naturally, the ones who survived were the ones who could swallow poison and live.
"Hmm, then I see no obstacle."
Kylian nodded, lifted the bag he'd brought, and set it on the table with a solid thump.
"I wish to purchase a generous supply of the drug."
I opened the bag.
FLASH— gold light everywhere!
In this dark, windowless room, the gold coins lit up the whole space with their shimmering radiance.
I reverently gathered up every dose of the drug I had prepared and presented it to him.
"Here you are, sir. If you run short, I'll produce more and send it along."
To lay down this much money for a drug whose effects weren't even verified — either this man was an enormous mark, or he was wealthy enough to pay out sums like this without blinking.
Either way, a customer I could not afford to lose.
"That said, there is a possibility of certain side effects. Hear me out first, and then decide whether you still want it."
So I'd lay it all bare from the start. Honest business.
And again — I believed. I believed in the gym rat's sacred devotion to muscle.
Which is why I beckoned only to Kylian, the man possessed by fitness itself, and leaned in to whisper the side effects in his ear.
"Tsk tsk. So many anchovies around here."
One male student, flaunting muscles swollen like overinflated balloons, picked a fight with another. The student — mid-workout until moments ago — eyed his newly slab-built accuser and asked:
"You on something, you bastard?"
The magical drug sweeping through the knight students these days: steroids. Unlike people of my old world, knights channeled their energy and mana from the core of the body itself — and on them, the drug's effects hit absurdly hard. As a result, within days of its spread, you couldn't swing a dumbbell without tripping over a suddenly jacked male student.
The newly inflated student flexed his biceps and answered.
"Nah, this is all natural."
"Bullshit! Anyone with eyes can see you're juiced! Hey, hold on a second — didn't you hear that stuff turns you into a eunuch? Let's find out."
"Whoa, whoa! Where do you think you're grabbing? What are you, gay?"
Take the drug, lose your manhood. That was the rumor, anyway.
But it did nothing to stop the drug's spread.
Did you know — in the actual history of my old world, there were professions open only to men without testicles or a penis? And that, thanks to certain perks, a fair number of men chose castration of their own free will?
It's the same principle here.
Physical prowess is everything to a knight. And for the sake of gaining it — for the sake of success — more than a few students were willing to gamble away their own virility without a second thought.
Meanwhile, Prince Kylian, who had been working out on the training field, quietly returned to his own quarters.
"..."
Waiting for him in his room was the full-length mirror he'd placed there to check his progress. The man reflected in it had a physique that couldn't even be compared to his pre-drug self — the transformation was that dramatic.
And yet he could not simply smile.
Without a word, Kylian let his trousers drop.
He looked at what lay within, and his face twisted into something complicated.
"...Is the imperial line... in danger of ending with me?"
The side effects of steroids are many. To name but a few:
Declining sexual function. Azoospermia. Testicular atrophy. Penile atrophy. Erectile dysfunction.
Side effects that Kylian, one day, might well come to experience himself.
For now, thankfully, nothing was wrong. And yet he could not bring himself to quit the drug — even knowing the risk.
"Without this drug, I certainly could not maintain this body."
That was the reason. He simply could not keep this magnificent muscle without it.
A true, certified gym rat, Kylian could accept losing what hung between his legs — but losing his muscle? That option did not exist.
'Besides, even if I can't carry on the imperial line myself, my older brother will handle that.'
Knock knock.
"Lord Kylian! I heard a rumor that the drug has side effects. Is your body all right—"
The guard knight, who had rushed back to his room in a panic, blinked.
What her eyes beheld was Kylian, trousers around his ankles. And even then, her gaze — drawn as if by gravity — locked onto a single point below his waist.
The guard knight roared in fury.
"...Damn it all, MAGE!!"
"Wait. Bell, wait just a moment!"
Kylian frantically grabbed his guard knight before she could storm off to find the mage.
"Why do you stop me?!"
"That is... well..."
Kylian could not bring himself to explain.
That he had suffered no side effects from the drug yet. That this size was not some withered remnant of a side effect — that it was his original size.
Shame crashed over him like a wave.
Because that meant his oldest friend — his guard knight, Bell — had looked at his manhood and thought it that small.
"Uuugh... it's nothing... it means nothing..."
And so, knowing full well that silence was the worst possible choice, Kylian shut his mouth.
The truth would simply have wounded his pride far too much to bear.