Chapter 39: Stereotype
Chapter 39: Stereotype
I'm not some genius who figures everything out on his own.
Sometimes, even when someone spells it out for me, I still don't catch on until much later.
Talking with The Incinerating Tyrant drove the point home like a punch to the gut.
The Incinerating Tyrant is a Constellation.
And I entered his dream.
Therefore, I can enter the dreams of Constellations.
Once I realized it, it was so blindingly obvious I couldn't believe it took me days to notice—probably the exhaustion. Was I just dense, or hopelessly stuck in my own assumptions?
I'd only ever wandered through the dreams of my Incarnations and ordinary civilians, so I guess the mental block had crept in without my noticing.
A Dream Demon can enter the unconscious realm of dreams.
Root out the latent traumas inside and you get a Nightmare. Pull the dream's owner along with you and you get a lucid dream.
And Incarnations, Constellations—they're all just souls collected by the Creator who built this world. No fundamental difference between them.
When you think about it, the Nightmares of Constellations are probably far more potent than those of Incarnations.
Incarnations don't remember their past lives, but Constellations do.
Nightmares born from the monsters that destroyed an entire world.
'Feels like I wasted a whole year for nothing.'
That didn't mean I could just start making contact recklessly.
I'd kept my distance from other Incarnations outside the Academy precisely because I was worried about friction with other Constellations causing trouble for my own.
I'd only ever peeked inside spaces like the Academy, where Constellations are explicitly permitted to observe their Incarnations.
In that environment, making direct contact with a Constellation—not even someone else's Incarnation—was bound to stir up a mess of trouble.
To borrow The Incinerating Tyrant's phrasing, I'm at the baby-steps stage right now.
Sure, I know how to enter an Incarnation's dream, but I still don't know the method for using an Incarnation as a medium to reach their Constellation.
Me, my Incarnation, another Constellation's Incarnation, the other Constellation.
Probably requires moving indirectly through three layers of separation.
But since I still don't know how to pull that off—Dream Demon, Dream Walker, whatever—there's no need to rush.
Something I used to remind myself back when I'd play games before the old world ended:
No matter how frantically I scramble, I'll never catch up to the veterans who've been here since open beta.
The most efficient and quickest path is the only one: do everything within your power and build up steadily, step by step.
There's no shortcut to an easy meal.
"So yeah, my pay went up because of the second trait. I didn't even know there were bonus salaries depending on an Incarnation's traits or Authorities."
"That's great. How are you spending it?"
Even with my mind elsewhere, Han Ye-ji—practically snuggled up against me with her whole body—couldn't stop her mouth from running.
I'd heard her second trait awakening was way faster than average. Maybe that was why she was a little overexcited.
I made the appropriate listening noises and gently stroked her hair, and she leaned right into me.
Probably because The Incinerating Tyrant's airship visit and the trait awakening had piled up together—she couldn't even hide the giddy look on her face, like a kid at an amusement park.
She chattered on as if she planned to spill every thought she'd been storing up, showing no sign of stopping.
"My pay? Honestly, I can't quite figure out the best use for it yet, so I've been saving it. My senior told me I should at least get one formal suit for official events, so I had a set made, shoes and all. Other than that, I'm planning to put it toward my little sibling's tuition."
"Have you thought about moving to a better place?"
"Moving... probably once my sibling goes to college. They've been anxious about their grades lately anyway—I think moving right now might throw them off even more."
A different world, and yet college and entrance exams still exist.
Watching her shift topics and launch right back into chatter, she really did seem like a girl.
Is it too much of a stereotype to say girls are the ones who chatter like this?
Looking at her now, cuddled up against me and talking nonstop, it seemed at least a little accurate.
"So the new trait came in and—"
"This time a new junior joined, and her Constellation is—"
"So because of the tranquilizer darts, my senior—"
Chatter, chatter, chatter.
The flood of words showed no sign of stopping.
Enjoying the soft feminine body nestled in my arms and listening to her prattle is nice and all, but the constant need to react with nods was starting to wear on me. She'd been going for nearly two hours, not thirty minutes.
"So, mmph?"
So I stopped her lips with mine.
I could feel confusion flooding her wide, round eyes.
Han Ye-ji had lately been dividing her lucid dreams into two distinct categories:
Lucid dreams with me in them, for cuddling and soaking up fatherly affection.
And lucid dreams without me, for eating, drinking, lazing around, and satisfying her desires while imagining a fantasy version of me.
She'd convinced herself it would be far too irreverent to actually use her Constellation as a sex partner, so her cheeky plan was to just have dirty dreams about me and satisfy herself that way.
But isn't it a Constellation's role to discipline an Incarnation when she pulls cheeky stunts like that?
When I—the same me who'd been talking gently and stroking her hair—suddenly kissed her with zero context, she froze up stiff as a cat doused with water.
For a split second, she genuinely couldn't tell if her Constellation had actually kissed her or if it was just a fantasy unfolding inside her own dream.
I had no intention of giving her time to sort it out.
Because of the information I'd pulled from The Incinerating Tyrant's dreams. About Dream Walkers—about Dream Demons.
I suppose it made sense, coming from a world advanced enough to cruise the galaxy and establish planetary-scale colonies—they had a fair amount of data on Dream Demons.
The most critical piece: how Dream Demons grow.
The more you engage in sexual acts and get those hormones flowing, and the more time you spend inside other people's dreams, the faster you develop.
Instinctively, I'd already been sensing it.
Now that the vague feeling I'd had was confirmed as the correct answer, my reason to hold back had vanished.
We kissed, and as I held her close, sly fingers crept slowly toward my waistband.
"Heehee... my Constellation..."
The sly, creeping hand slipped right into my waistband and began stroking my thigh.
When the elastic waistband snagged on her wrist and started to pull uncomfortably, I obligingly lifted my hips a little.
My shorts slid naturally down below my knees.
Had this girl been practicing how to take off someone's pants in her dreams?
Watching my shorts slip down so smoothly, I decided to just let it play out and see what she'd do. She laid her cheek directly against my now-bared thigh.
I thought maybe she was in the mood for a nap, but when her sharp little nose started nuzzling into the crease of my groin? Probably not.
The hot, damp breath I could feel through my underwear sent a surge of stimulation through my cock—it stirred and began to rise.
When a slender beauty buries her face in your crotch and starts stimulating you, if you don't get hard, you're either impotent or gay.
Han Ye-ji gazed up at my cock with an expression of pure rapture as it slowly pushed against my underwear, stretching awake.
Maybe the single kiss had flipped a switch. Or maybe it was just the age where your blood runs hot.
Either way, her bold fingers didn't hesitate to push my underwear aside, and I lifted my hips again to help. My boxer briefs got flung away together with my shorts into some distant corner.
Now there was nothing left to cover it—and no reason to. She grabbed my cock with a sudden, eager grip.
The maiden who'd been frozen stiff, not knowing what to do, had vanished completely, replaced by a woman who toyed with a man's equipment as if she were thoroughly enjoying herself.
For me and for her, mutual enjoyment is what matters. So who cares?
losing her hesitation didn't mean her sexual technique had magically skyrocketed. Nothing like that happened.
Though she did lick me thoroughly with her tongue until she judged I was wet enough, and then climbed on top of me.
As she mounted me and pressed herself against me, she seemed more high on lust than embarrassed.
Then again, she'd been slipping in and out of lucid dreams every single day for a year to relieve stress. It'd be weirder if she were still bashful at this point.
Slithering like a snake, she wriggled her hips above me and stealthily tried to guide me inside.
Maybe she was already considerably worked up, or had gotten herself wet beforehand, because I could feel my cock sliding into the slick, warm cleft of her flesh.
Though the tightness from the size made my breath come out rough in spite of myself.
Wasn't it uncomfortable? Then I remembered—the one who decided on this size was the very Han Ye-ji in front of me.
Who fantasizes about cocks being the wrong size and not fitting when they're having a wet dream?
I stretched out both arms and embraced her, and she squeezed me tight, our skin pressed flush together as she slowly rolled her hips.
Not a flash-bang of pleasure, but something slow and gentle—like sinking your body into a hot bath—a sensation that rose gradually from the farthest edges of my body up along my spine.
Like a snake swallowing its prey whole, she held me while gently licking my skin, as if she couldn't bring herself to actually bite down.
Her small tongue, somehow feeling even hotter than her body heat, traced across my shoulders and collarbone, then flicked teasingly at my chest.
At this point, it felt like she was the one teaching me.
Sex during the apocalypse had been, literally, nothing more than rushing to scratch a desperate itch.
Deep kisses, caresses—whatever. There'd been no time for anything beyond getting wet and thrusting. No safe zones existed.
And on top of that, I'd always been the one doing the thrusting and pounding, never the one being licked like this.
"Mm, that tickles a bit. What's there to see on a man's chest anyway?"
"My Constellation, every woman is going to love a broad man's chest."
Having said that, she gave my chest a firm, sucking pull.
This was the first time in my life anyone had ever sucked on my chest. It tickled and gave me goosebumps—can't say it felt good.
She probably wouldn't suck hard enough to make it start feeling good, right?
With a faint unease, I gently stroked Han Ye-ji's head, and she buried her face in the hollow of my chest.
She was soaked with sweat, but didn't seem to care at all that her own saliva was smearing across her cheek.
We lay there sprawled out and cozy, just feeling the sound of each other's heartbeats.
"Ah... I seriously want to do this forever."
"You can always dream whenever you want."
"That's true... I probably wouldn't have even kept going to work if I didn't have this."
Sensing another wave of chatter about to start, I gave a light thrust of my hips and nudged inside her with a little press.
Even if she could always dream, tonight wasn't going to last forever.