The Morning After
I woke when the heart rate of Jamie, nestled in my arms, shifted.
The night hadn't been part of any plan, yet it hadn't been a bad one either.
The only real problem was that Jamie's stamina—tempered by every kind of battle and real combat—had far outstripped my expectations, unlike Olivia, the ace prostitute who worked at the Fairy of the Night.
I opened my eyes inside a pleasantly languid haze rather than pure exhaustion and turned toward the soft breathing right beside me.
With only one bed and one pillow between us, she had naturally claimed my arm as her pillow and curled into my embrace. The uniquely soft texture of a woman's skin and the warm body heat that only another person could give were things I rather liked.
Back on Earth, assorted bothersome complications had kept me at a distance from them.
“Jamie.”
“…Ahem.”
When I gently swept the fallen strands of hair behind her ear and whispered her name, Jamie's body heat climbed another degree. She finally cracked open the eyelids she had been squeezing shut and let out a small cough.
“You knew, sir?”
“I'm more sensitive than most people realize.”
“Th-that… um. Your hand, please.”
The free hand that wasn't serving as her pillow had traveled past her waist and hip and settled in a firm grip just above the firm, rounded curve of her buttocks—swollen from practical training.
“Let's get up together.”
“Ahem.”
I withdrew my hand and sat up first. She followed with a second cough, carefully raising her upper body until she was sitting upright beside me.
“Looks like we'll have to invest some of the morning in cleaning.”
“…I'm sorry.”
“It's fine.”
The bed itself had survived intact, so I'd briefly forgotten. The moment I sat up and the state of the floor around us filled my vision, every detail of the previous night came flooding back.
“Let's wash up first.”
“You go first, sir. I'll tidy the surroundings while you're out.”
“Alright.”
Sharing a bed already meant washing together wouldn't have created any new problems. Yet, with her reason fully restored unlike the night before, Jamie drew a clear line. It was an attitude I genuinely liked.
On Earth, clean beginnings and endings like that rarely happened.
Creak.
I turned the faucet. Moderately hot water poured from the showerhead and slowly soaked me from the crown of my head downward.
“It would be best to fix up the third floor before Jamie leaves.”
Thanks to her unreserved, active cooperation, I had learned in precise detail the range and method by which the bank system recognized money. That knowledge opened real possibilities for several businesses I had been sketching out.
Of course I had no intention of running them myself. Management was a hassle, and every sector already had firmly entrenched factions locking down the slum interests. There was zero reason to force my way into those gaps and create awkward relationships. I wasn't that short on cash either.
So the structure I envisioned simply fattened the existing rulers' pockets while I quietly collected commissions from the sidelines.
“You said you'd only clean a little around…”
“Ahem…. I'll wash and come out.”
I had no idea what method she used, but in the roughly ten minutes I spent under the shower Jamie had completely erased every trace of last night's passion from the bedroom floor and living room. Then, wearing nothing but the single pair of panties I had confiscated from her the day before, she fled toward the bathroom as if escaping.
“Magic, maybe?”
This was a world where combat and daily-life magic had advanced right alongside science, so the existence of cleaning-related magic tools wouldn't have been strange at all.
“Appreciate the hard work.”
Just as I finished preparing breakfast, Jamie walked out. A single pair of panties and a towel draped around her neck in place of a bra managed, with surprising precision, to cover everything that needed covering.
“It might be a little big, but better than nothing.”
“……?”
When I handed her the women's underwear I had bought from the Benefit Shop, Jamie blinked in mild surprise.
“Thank you.”
She hadn't said anything, yet she must have felt the same discomfort. Jamie immediately stripped off what she was wearing and changed into the set I offered.
“…It fits perfectly.”
“Glad to hear it.”
I sat down first at the kitchen table. After a brief glance at me, Jamie rubbed her arms once, then retrieved the clothes she had left draped over the living-room sofa and put them on.
“Beef stew?”
“The timing's a bit awkward to go out and eat today.”
That probably wasn't the question she actually wanted answered, but I had no intention of explaining. She seemed to sense as much, simply dipped her head once, and quietly ate the stew with me.
“It was a little unexpected.”
“Unexpected? That I held you?”
“Yes. From everything I've observed so far, you never showed much interest in the female body, Priest.”
It wasn't that I had no interest. Even if I was a little different from most people, I still hadn't completely stepped outside the framework of being human.
“Just low interest. I feel ordinary sexual desire. When you seduced me yesterday, I went along without complaint, didn't I?”
“…I seduced you?”
As if that particular claim at least felt unfair, Jamie stopped mid-bite and looked at me.
“I was the one who provided the cause, that's true. But you were the one who forgot your duties first.”
I had simply used her body thoroughly, exactly as I had notified her in advance, to test my abilities. If she herself had failed to notice, I would have accepted a share of the fault. Yesterday's events, however, had not been like that.
“…….”
Jamie stared at me in silence for a very short moment, then resumed moving her spoon.
“Yesterday was the first time I felt it so intensely that my consciousness left me.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Glad… is… yes. More than that, may I ask one question?”
“Go ahead.”
Having cleaned her bowl completely, Jamie set the spoon on the empty dish and asked,
“Are all the priests of the Goddess Verdia as skilled in bed as you are, Priest?”
“Not all of them, I imagine.”
Verdia certainly enjoyed physical pleasure, but that did not mean every priest under her was required to do the same. Vivian, of course, had seemed quite interested in men.
“…….”
Jamie stared at me silently once more—
Slap!
—then struck her own cheek hard enough to make any onlooker flinch.
“Thank you for the meal. What is the schedule afterward?”
Through shock therapy she had returned to her original duties.
“I'm planning to remodel the third floor a bit. If you know a good contractor, I'd appreciate an introduction.”
“We'll have to leave for another sector. Is that alright?”
“Of course.”
“Understood.”
With that, the remaining morning schedule was set. We cleaned the empty dishes and went down to the first floor.
“Wait.”
Before climbing into the parked car, I pulled out the notebook I always carried in my front pocket along with a fountain pen and tore free a blank page.
Visitors recommended by Miss Vita, please wait on the second floor.
※ May be slightly delayed ※
I fixed the paper to the wall at the stair entrance with black tape so it wouldn't blow away.
“The back seat has a slightly better ride than the passenger seat.”
“It was modified for that purpose, after all. Excuse me a moment.”
As I closed the door and settled in, Jamie—who had already started the engine and was waiting—leaned over slightly and fastened my seatbelt for me.
“Jamie.”
“Yes.”
“Are you popular with the female members?”
“…How did you know?”
“I think not knowing would be stranger.”
Her eyes were slightly upturned, giving her a faintly fierce look, yet she was fundamentally a beauty whose healthy skin tone matched that strong impression. If not for the chest that refused to be hidden even under the double compression of underwear and shirt, Jamie's appearance was androgynous enough that she could easily be mistaken for a man. On top of that, the personality she had developed simply to survive the ruthless ecosystem of the slums was, by any objective measure, more than enough to captivate members of the same sex.
“On the way back from meeting the contractor, let's stop by Benjamin's mansion briefly.”
“Understood.”
Clearly she had returned as “bodyguard” rather than “Jamie.” She answered only what I asked and offered no personal remarks of her own, no matter how trivial, focusing entirely on the drive.
“Sector 11.”
I had only been here once, but the impression had been deep enough that the streetscape of Sector 11 remained clear in my mind; I recognized it at once.
“Being right next to the light zone makes securing materials easy, and the prices are relatively reasonable, so most people who have real confidence in their skills live in Sector 11.”
“New information.”
The car stopped in front of a two-story building.
FUJI WORKSHOP
I had no idea what “Fuji” meant, but after glancing once at the large signboard I followed Jamie's lead inside.
“Welcome~!!”
A woman whose long, slanted eyes made her resemble a fox greeted us warmly. From her clothing alone I realized that the “Fuji” on the signboard was Japanese.
“The boss?”
“He's on the second floor!”
“Carry on.”
“Yes!”
The brevity of the exchange suggested the two already knew each other.
“Let's go.”
Leaving the nameless Japanese woman behind, Jamie and I started up the stairs.
“Jamie.”
“Yes.”
Halfway up I asked her something that had suddenly occurred to me.
“Is the boss here friendly toward people of Han origin?”
“Han, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
Jamie hummed thoughtfully for a moment before answering.
“I'm sorry. You're the first person of Han ethnicity to visit the slums, Priest.”
“I see.”
As if she had sensed something in the question, Jamie's steps gradually slowed. I, however, stayed close behind her, gently pressed the tip of my index finger against the exact center of her waist, and smiled.