Past Life Blues and Legs That Feel
I dreamed of Ricardo's—no, my past life's—romantic delusions.
"Hey, you screwed up another blind date, huh?"
"It wasn't me screwing up; she dumped me."
"Bullshit. With a face like yours, you could swim across the Pacific."
"If I could, would I be sitting here like this?"
A dingy neighborhood dive bar, just like any other. I vaguely saw my past self in the dream, nursing fishcake soup as a chaser with cheap booze. Same face as now, same tall build. But instead of the red hair I have today, it was long, jet-black locks. I was drinking with an orphanage buddy I hadn't seen in ages.
'Long time no see, huh? That bastard who scarfed my food and bolted. Piece of shit.'
I thought it'd be nice to see him again, but nope—made me want to punch his lights out.
'Fucking asshole.'
In the dream, I tilted my glass and shot back at the friend. The women at the next table were stealing glances, swooning at my playful smirk. The guy slapped my shoulder.
"See? Dumbass."
"Bullshit."
In my previous life, I'd never had a girlfriend. Was it my weird tastes? Sky-high standards? Shitty personality? Who knows. I'd dragged my virgin ass through life past twenty-three. Reading novels was my only hobby, and honestly, I was a boring fuck even to myself.
The friend whispered so the girls at the next table couldn't hear.
"That's why you gotta quit those weird novels and chase some tail. Who the hell tells a blind date their dream is a harem?"
"I didn't say it like that. She asked first—what if everyone here liked me? I joked I'd take 'em all."
"Same difference, dumbass. You pick the one you like most."
"A man's gotta have a big heart."
"Bullshit."
I chuckled lightly and brushed it off. Back then, I loved novels. Guys like me, from shitty family backgrounds, getting isekai'd and crushing it—that hit different. Escaping a soul-crushing job through dazzling protagonists in glamorous worlds was my long-time hobby. Envying heroes loved by beautiful heroines, even elves. Harem stuff. Ridiculous fantasy, sure, but hey, everyone dreams once in a while. Delusions are free.
Bullshit...
I flicked my friend's head.
"Still, it's the dream of every man."
"Dumb—ass."
Watching my past self, I muttered softly now.
'One woman's more than enough.'
Way more.
A racket echoed through the mansion.
"Hiiiiek... Air raid alert...!!!"
The lady's spirited kiai boomed from the second floor, shattering the refreshing morning peace. Rubbing my eyes at her thunderous voice, I greeted the day.
"Yawwwn... Huh...?"
As I stretched and sat up, a dizzy spell hit, making me stagger.
—Beeeep─────
'Fuck...'
Used Rehabilitation Touch on a "target contaminated by black magic".
Consumed 1% of your vitality as payment.
A piercing ring and skull-splitting headache hit. I collapsed face-first onto the bed.
Last night's overexertion. The pain started in my head, then spread to my chest. Heart-pounding agony.
"Hah... Hah..."
Couldn't breathe right. Felt like needles stabbing every inch. Chilling pain like my heart would burst enveloped me. Clutching my chest, I exhaled deeply.
"Suuuuuck... Hah..."
I knew using health-draining power had side effects, but this hit harder than expected. I gritted my teeth, clamping down to stifle any sound.
'Get it together.'
Nothing compared to the rotting agony from black magic. Panting, I lay there waiting it out. After about ten minutes, the spine-chilling pain ebbed. Testing my body—rolled my shoulders, exhaled some aura to check for issues. No direct damage, thankfully. Maybe the low 1% usage spared my combat power.
One nagging thing, though.
"Achoo!"
Felt like my health dipped a bit. Rubbing my scratchy throat, I thought,
"Sniff."
Caught a cold or something. Vitality must affect internals, not externals. Glancing in the mirror, I flashed a grin at my handsome mug.
"Good."
I trudged toward the lady's booming room.
"Coming!"
"Ugh... Ricardo. The sun's too bright."
Today's lady was burritoed in blankets, waging a soul-vs-sun war. Awake but sulking over losing dreamland dominance, she peeked out, glaring at the sunlight sneaking through the curtains.
She pointed at the flapping curtains.
"Evil sunlight. Deal with it."
As if. I yanked the blanket tail hard. It unfurled, spinning her like a top. Frowning, she vampired out: "Grrrraaah! Die... just die!"
Full commitment to the act. No talent for theatrics usually, but mornings turned her into an Oscar winner.
Rubbing her eyes, she shot me a resentful look. Blaming the dream-ruiner.
"Ricardo destroyed the Chocolate Kingdom."
"What's the Chocolate Kingdom?"
"My dream today."
Grinning happily, she spilled the details—arms wide for a massive chocolate palace she gobbled whole. I tossed a gentle jab at her beaming face.
"Didn't you destroy the Chocolate Kingdom?"
"No, Ricardo did. I was gonna eat it bit by bit."
The kingdom's citizens would've clutched pearls. Done with dream tales, she flopped onto the bed, wilting like an unwatered plant. Hangover from last night's binge lingered. Trembling hands begged for honey water; I handed her a warmly warmed cup. Thumbs-up.
"As expected, Ricardo. Always prepared."
"Coming right up—from the world's handsomest, most perfect butler."
"...That's a lot tacked on."
"Just drink your honey water."
I shut down her realistic grumbling with sweetness.
"Foo... Foo..."
Clutching it like a lifeline, blowing frantically. Burned bad by the hangover she underestimated. Then, an intruder made her shoulders jump.
—Grrrroooowl...!
She glared daggers at Gomtangi's sparkling eyes. Tail wagging madly at the sweet scent. Weirdo who loved honey over meat. Tiny tail nub wagging furiously, declaring intent.
—Groowl.
'Lowly owner bitch. Gimme some too.'
Audacious mutt eyeing her honey water. She ignored him, focusing, but his hefty leaps shook her. Sensing mortal peril,
"Scram!"
—Groooowl!
"Scram, I said! It's mine!"
—Groooowl!
"Eeeek! Feels like I'll die without this... Urp."
"No puking here."
"Urp... Stomach's churning."
Hangover hell. His beefy bounces rocked the bed; her teacup sloshed waves. Thud.
Hard impact hit the mattress.
"Hot!"
Honey water splashed her leg. I bolted to her, whipping off the blanket. Decent temp, but her frail legs? Dubious. She stared blankly at her bare skin.
"Huh?"
I yelled at the frozen lady.
"Why aren't you moving?! Quick...!"
Awkward eye-lock. Her broken gaze on her leg; me halted at the pale reveal. I blushed.
She blushed for different reasons.
I muttered,
"Bear panties?"
"Eeeeeek...! No!"
Simple undies gal.
After the chaos,
She pointed at her leg.
"It was hot."
Her darkening expression clenched my fists.
"Hot, you say?"
"Yeah."
Vigorous nod, eyes glued to her skinny leg. I pressed,
"For real...? Not just hand-spill heat?"
Tried hiding excitement, but hopeful tremor leaked. She'd lost lower sensation from severed nerves—heat, pins, nothing registered.
Her thrilled eyes dropped my damp cloth.
"Really?"
"Yeah... Felt a hot sting."
She pinched her leg, winced "Ow!", eyes sparkling. Sensation absent two years. Still awkward, pinching for pain confirmation.
Impatient, I rapid-fired,
"Can you move it...? Move it?!"
Tense face, furrowed brow.
"Hold on."
Focused. "Eeeeeek!!!"
Her mighty kiai gripped my fists in cheer, but...
"Ricardo."
Sulky pout.
"I gotta pee."
Movement still no-go.
"Big one?"
"Rude to ask a lady that."
"...A lady in bear panties."
She yelled at Gomtangi,
"Bite!"
—Groowl!
"Eugh! Not me! Him!"
Obedient boy bit right. Clenching fists,
'Thank god.'
Seemed we'd solve the unsolvable.