Chapter 28
Chapter 28
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Choice is Father's Freedom (Or Not)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The table prepared by the villagers was a crude wooden one, meant for six people.
They'd hauled out every last table that had been shoved away in the warehouse and set them up in the open clearing.
"Ahaha! Don't do it!"
"Thug! The thug's coming!"
They lit a fire atop a stack of firewood piled in a neat grid. The kids got all hyped up watching the flames roar to life.
They went dashing around, hollering at each other.
"Be careful."
"Uahaha. Looks like the kids are having a blast."
"Yeah, it's been ages since they got to enjoy a festival like this. Can't blame 'em."
It was noisy as hell, but no adults chewed them out. Everyone was busy prepping to savor their own little slice of the celebration.
Meat and booze started showing up on every table.
"Plenty to go around, so dig in."
"The chief threw open the whole warehouse. Said use whatever we want."
"Oh yeah? Then I'm polishin' off all the village meat myself!"
"I'd rather have somethin' besides meat. Think that'll fly?"
"Your husband's right there watchin'."
"Uhehe, no law says holes are husband-only. If she says yes, anyone's fair game."
The women bustled around with plates while the men guffawed and knocked back their drinks. The village elders were dishing out their usual sexual harassment, relentless as ever.
Like they'd drop dead if they skipped even a single day.
"How about a cheers?"
Seats were set, so blending in right was key. Good chance to bond with the Unit 1s too.
Didn't seem like a bad idea to kick off a drinking session.
"Cheers!"
Of course, the vise-grip squeezing my balls was anything but welcome. I kept my face neutral, masking it best I could.
Gulp, gulp—.
I chugged the beer. Lukewarm stuff. Nothing special taste-wise.
But the vibe was spot on.
Inky black night sky, glittering clusters of stars, campfire popping and spitting embers with crisp cracks.
The kids' kyruk-kyruk play shrieks.
"I shot a fireball—boom!—right? My master's the one!"
"Master? What master?"
"The super busty mage lady who came out front and said hi earlier. She's my master."
The buzz was hitting fast. I grabbed a few bites of meat.
Fed some to Olivia #2, who was sitting there all awkward and solo.
Caught Denis's eye. We both cracked smirks.
Then someone sidled up from behind.
"Thank you so much for saving my daughter."
The chief's daughter-in-law—Gallen's wife, Jessica—dropped by our table. The spread overflowed with all the cooking from the daughter-in-law he'd bragged about endlessly.
Meat was already piled high. She added even more on top.
You ask, she doubles down. Could we even finish it?
Made me wonder.
"Just doin' what needed doin'... Kugh!"
Was about to play it humble and shoo the lady off. That's when the ball-crush ramped up fierce.
Olivia #1 had clamped down hard. Arm planted blatant on the table.
Fingers squeezing, releasing—.
Jessica eyed me, all worried.
"Dyke?"
"Ah, it's nothin'. I'm good."
"You look off. Face all red... You sick or somethin'?"
"Fit as a fiddle. Hero here. Takes more than that. So..."
I shot her my most desperate eye-plea. Please scram, straight at Jessica.
Did she catch my urgent vibe?
"If anything feels wrong, just say. I'll tell Father-in-law."
"Yeah. Will do."
Jessica wandered off. I shot Olivia #1 a death glare.
She grinned ear-to-ear from kitty-corner across the table.
—Adorable.
'Crazy bitch, seriously.'
What if the others picked up on the weirdness? Pulling this stunt with everyone right here.
Was it even a stunt?
Only a prank if the target's laughing. If the victim ain't buying it, it's straight-up torment.
Olivia #1 was tormenting me.
"Father, meat's delicious. Eat up lots."
"I got it covered."
Got hands and all. I can manage my own bites.
No need stretchin' over to feed me.
"Father. Ahh~."
"Knock it off."
"Arm's too heavy."
I side-eyed Denis beside me. She watched on, beaming like it was prime entertainment.
"Dyke did good raisin' his girls."
"...Daughters or not, age gap's tiny..."
More friends than daughters. All three match my mental and physical age bracket.
Factor in the years the Unit 1s have clocked, no way they see me as dad.
'Could I ever call a five-years-older sis "mom"?'
Denis as mom? Flat impossible.
"Father."
Charlotte fixed me with a stare. Eyes downright menacing, like god-knows-what if I skipped her meat.
"Ahh~."
"Vrooom. Airplane incoming."
"......!"
Wasn't simple feeding. Charlotte crammed the meat in like force-feeding beans to a picky brat.
Shame hit instant—face burned crimson. That tight skin-pull? Haven't felt in forever.
"You little punk!"
"Hehehe."
Charlotte flashed a sneaky grin. Smug as hell, mission accomplished.
Not one to back down, Nine jumped in.
"Daddy, no discrimination, right?"
Did one, gotta square the rest. Solid logic from Nine.
"...Nah?"
"Ahhn, open up."
"Ahh~."
"Airplane vrooom."
"......"
Head gonna pop? Face scorched that bad.
"Aww, good eater. Our daddy."
"...Ain't a kid. Grown-ass man."
"Yeah yeah, sure you are."
"......"
Unit 1s tuned me out total. Full my-pace mode.
Lisa, spectating the chaos, gawked at me. Looked horrified, like some PDA-overload couple in public.
"Mister, tasty?"
"...Jessica's a damn wizard in the kitchen."
"Airplane takeoff, pew pew!"
My dodge lit her mischief fuse. Lisa speared a chunk, leaned in.
"Airplane landing, pew pew!"
"For real, you want a scoldin'?"
"...Skippin' just me?"
"Word it right. Sounds off."
"?"
Lisa blanked on my point. Head cock, meat assault continued.
"Airplane touchin' down. Psssh!"
"...Ah...."
No dodging—took Lisa's bite too. She cackled gleeful.
Denis locked eyes the whole time.
I grinned sheepish, tossed blame her way.
"Lisa's got that prankster streak bad. Knew it, though."
"...Airplane takeoff, pew pew."
Silent Denis fired up her own plane outta nowhere. Nicked Lisa's line verbatim, dangled meat at me.
"...Airplane arrivin', pew pew. Whoa! Ain't down yet!"
I snapped it up no-hesitate from Denis.
"What good's that do?"
"Plenty! Gotta go full send for fun!"
"Kukuku, quit it now. Sis, why you too."
"Ehh."
Downed Denis's too—now majority guilty of the gag. Left: Olivia pair.
Unit 1 and 2 dithered as a duo.
"Hmph! Why'd I? That kiddie crap?"
#1 whipped head away, no-way defiant. #2 twitched, wanna-but-can't intrude.
Asking Olivia #2 direct for meat? Sketchy pic.
Let it slide. Sipped beer.
"Olivia, play with the kids? Least say hi."
"......"
Greenlit the fest to hook Olivia #2 up with pals.
Village life ahead. Instant BFFs aside, faces and names? Baseline.
That kinda thinkin'.
"Lisa."
Solo dispatch weird. Tagged Lisa along.
"...Me?"
Lisa spooked by Olivia #2. Sis-vibes crushed under preemptive dom.
Open rejection vibes.
"Wish granted later."
"For real?"
"Yup. That thing you wanted? Dress. Magenta's blue dress."
"Ri-right. Yeah, want it."
Paper ads popped occasional.
Girly princess gown design—Lisa went gaga. Prime fantasy age.
Princesses, princes, knights, y'know.
Mature kiddo, never begged buy. Stuffed the want with drippy-eyed sighs.
Still pined—clipped that ad snippet, tucked safe. Recall that.
"Olivia! C'mon!"
Lisa bolted up, snagged Olivia #2's hand, tugged. #2 stumbled after, all stiff.
Kids dispatched, Denis poked my ribs.
"That? Birthday gift, already set, right?"
"Subspace stocked."
"......"
Denis slammed her beer. Drained the glass whole.
Looked my way.
"...Always thanks, Dyke."
"For?"
"'Cause of you, Lisa voices her wants. With me? Kiddo hides it cold."
Heart thumped wild. Buzz climbed, blood rushed south.
No ball-grip? Woulda smashed a kiss on Denis.
—Dad, come on. Daughters watchin'—lovey-dovey front-row? Crossin' lines.
'......'
Olivia #1 bullyin' mid, irony: cock swelled harder than norm.
Am I into this shit? Self-disgust peaked.
"Dyke!"
Buzz wasn't solo mine. Other tables rode the high too.
"Here, take a glass!"
"Me first—cheers!"
"Village hero! Rock solid always. Dyke's a godsend."
Village grownups to wrangle.
Not bedroom-style—gut and liver grind. Heroine holes off-limits.
"Thanks."
I dug it too. Olivia #1's squeeze faded slow.
Sometime— Unit 1s vanished. Shrug. Off to crash, probs.
Figured.
Ran into 'em post-fest wrap. Popped bathhouse for quick rinse.
"Father."
"...Y-you......"
Charlotte nude-greets me. Nude-plus, though.
'Wearing' somethin'. Wear debatable, but whatever.
"Father. Closer first."
Charlotte beckoned. Swish swish.
Her crotch-strapped rod swayed accord. Jiggle jiggle.
Chills crawled.
"What the. Why's it jigglin'..."
Charlotte stepped in.
"Father, no pain promised."
"...Horse shit."
"Escape's no-go, you know."
"Shut it...!"
"Cravin' rough poundin'? Okay, run permitted. Chase is foreplay."
"......"
"Flee attempt? Lose control total. Blacked-out me rippin' your ass to shreds how..."
Charlotte #1 fished somethin' from her personal subspace. Arm-thick beast snapped to panty-front....
"Nine's holy spells might not fix..."
Monster dwarfing her current 'gear' by dozens-fold.
"Choice is Father's free will."
Charlotte #1 caressed her crotch-dick like real deal. Face twisted wild, reactions off.
Come think—Charlotte #1 matched Olivia #1 crazy. Just flew under from shadow.