Chapter 143

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 143

Chapter Title: Mimic

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Sometimes, there are people like that.

People who get a stomachache just seeing others eat well and live comfortably, who go beyond mere envy to outright loathing, and who openly try to sabotage them.

And the shape shifter who had crawled up from underground... the one who called herself "Mimic"... she struck me as having all the makings of a perfect troublemaker.

"Are you messing with us? Waking Yeo from her slumber for some petty reason and taking her form without permission...!"

"Let... me... live."

I let Erzsebet rage on beside me, lifting Mimic up and shaking her violently, while I let out a deep sigh. Every one of the Seven Deadly Sins we'd found in this ruin so far had some kind of screw loose, but this one was especially vicious.

At least she was better than Desmond, who had strutted around with insane arrogance and tried to turn people into undead on a whim? She hadn't swung a hammer or anything with murderous intent; it was all just pure mischief...

"Mimic."

"What...?"

The story I heard after that was predictable. She didn't know why she'd woken up here, couldn't remember anything... the usual.

If these guys really were the Seven Deadly Sins, there was probably one more left somewhere, but they'd likely lost their memories too. It wasn't even surprising anymore. If anything, this one taking the initiative to cause chaos despite her foggy memory almost seemed impressive...

Well, in the end, no one had suffered any real harm, and there was no property damage...

"Want... to be... employee?"

She hadn't directly harmed anyone, so heavy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠punishment felt iffy, but leaving her alone was risky given her personality and abilities—though those very abilities were insanely tempting.

And considering the other Seven Deadly Sins we'd hired so far, she was a guaranteed 5-star employee.

Instead of punishing her, I offered her a job. And she...

"No... way."

"...What?"

She turned down my offer.

"Caught... now. Gonna... cause more... chaos outside."

Her mischief here had been exposed, so now she wanted to go out and wreak havoc elsewhere—that was her rejection.

I even tried threatening her, saying she'd be punished if she refused since she'd already messed up, but she ignored it and shot down every offer.

'This... is unexpected.'

Sure, I could force her to stay or lock her up, but registering her as an [Employee] required consent. Desmond had worked out somehow back then due to his half-undead nature, but I doubted it'd fly with her...

"I could give you food you've never tasted before."

"Not... interested."

"...You saw the transformations, right? I can give you all kinds of amazing tools."

"No."

I tried coaxing and threatening, but she wouldn't budge.

"Why not just kill her?"

"......"

Erzsebet casually mentioned death, and Mimic flinched. So she feared dying after all... No choice then. I couldn't just let her go, so even if it felt off, I'd have to beat some obedience into her...

"Squish..."

"...What the hell? Why'd this one come in?"

As I pondered ways to persuade Mimic, a pure white slime squeezed into this space wrapped tightly in Dryad's roots.

The slime that had mutated after eating the detergent. It started out bluish, but after I made it produce detergent internally nonstop, its body gradually turned white—now a pristine snow-white—and it had come here.

"Whitey. Come here."

"...I've been thinking this since last time, but Master really has no knack for names."

Shut up. Whitey's perfect for something so white.

"Why'd you come here?"

"Probably to eat the filth from that skirmish earlier, I imagine."

"Ah. Makes sense."

After retrieving the one that caused chaos in the underground lake, I'd properly trained Whitey, who'd gained high intelligence, but it couldn't fully suppress its monster instincts. It would sneak off now and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then to hunt filth.

It only cleaned if left alone, so it hadn't caused issues like before...

"Shoo. Go on. This isn't the time for you to butt in. Dryad? You hear me? Send it out..."

"Sleep...?"

Just as I grabbed Whitey to toss it out mid-conversation, Mimic—who'd been indifferent to all my offers and threats—suddenly reacted.

I was getting annoyed with her by then, so I snapped back curtly.

"What. Got something to say..."

"Beautiful..."

"...What?"

Mimic's gaze—which looked just like a slime's, only blacker—locked onto Whitey in my hand. Did it have eyes? Anyway, her gaze fixed on it.

And her voice, which had been stiff and mechanical with scant emotion, started to liven up.

'...This bitch. No way?'

Beautiful. And the slime-like form... No way this one...

"Gurgle..."

On a hunch, I set Whitey down. It glanced around, then bounced straight toward the filthiest-looking thing here—Mimic—and lunged.

"Aggressive...!"

".......?"

Ignoring Mimic's weird mutter, I watched. Whitey, mistaking the black slime-like Mimic for filth, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠latched on and chomped wildly all over her body.

Each bite made Mimic shudder (annoyed?), then she shyly extended a tendril to brush Whitey.

Whitey bit that too, of course.

"Carnivore..."

"........."

Her speech had been so bland before. Had her head gone screwy?

Anyway, as Whitey kept trying to devour the "filth"(?), failing to swallow, it wriggled and sprayed [Detergent] from inside onto Mimic.

Mimic, a real living being despite looks, was fine covered in detergent.

"Gurgle?"

Finally realizing something off after all the biting and spraying failed to consume the "filth"(?), Whitey pulled away slightly. Mimic, shuddering from the "nibbles," regretfully shot out black tendrils after it.

"Hey now."

I smirked mischievously and blocked her tendrils, then scooped up Whitey, who was slinking off disinterested.

Mimic's tendrils flailed in the air, and I dangled Whitey side to side in front of her.

-Whoosh! Whoosh!

Her body followed Whitey's swings, shuddering up close, drooping in disappointment when pulled away.

I handed Whitey to Erzsebet for a bit and whispered to Mimic.

"Like Whitey, huh?"

"Beautiful. That... woman... Whitey?"

...Woman. Slimes had genders? How did they reproduce? No, don't think about it. Ignorance is bliss sometimes.

"Our Whitey's cute, right? Unlike other slimes, she's clean and squishy, smart too... and so very sweet..."

Instead, I gushed about Whitey in front of Mimic. How purely white she was, how clever, how gentle(?) and pretty(?)... As expected, the longer I went on, the more hooked Mimic got, wriggling closer and hanging on my words.

"Love... her."

After hearing all my praises, Mimic openly admitted her interest in Whitey.

Not just slime looks—slime tastes too? Wait, she could change forms freely, so had she chosen this to match her slime fetish?

I slipped her some info slyly.

"Know what Whitey loves most?"

"...What...?"

"Cleaning."

"Clean... ing...?"

As Mimic echoed puzzled, I asked Dryad to retract the roots, then took her and Whitey to an uncleaned area.

I released Whitey, and she bounced joyfully, diving into the filth, devouring it wildly and spraying detergent everywhere.

"See?"

"Real... deal."

Mimic nodded at Whitey, who clearly loved it with all her heart. I made the offer again.

"How about being my employee?"

"Not... inter..."

"Be an employee, and I'll assign you to Whitey's area every day."

"........."

"Be an employee, and you'll gain abilities even Whitey would love."

"....!!"

Unlike before, Mimic wavered as I spoke. I drove the nail in.

"No interest? Oh well... I was thinking of introducing her to another slime lately anyway, maybe let them breed..."

"I'll... do it."

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