That Incident
There are erotic illustrations ahead! Check your surroundings~!
Before heading out to watch Kazuhiro’s match, I sparred with Kiyohira one more time. Naturally, I won again. Our raw physical stats seemed roughly equal, but my various traits amplified the efficiency of those stats so dramatically that he simply couldn’t keep up.
I had suggested the spar to help him improve, but it ended up benefiting me as well. After all, ever since I’d taken over this body, I had only ever used Shinkai Yatsude with lethal intent.
Because I’d never practiced restraint in casual bouts like this, I hadn’t been very good at controlling my power. Through these sessions with Kiyohira, however, I began to grasp the proper feel for it. Even though the proficiency for a Mythic-grade martial art usually crawled upward at a snail’s pace, it rose noticeably after just two spars.
Unlike the first session, Mimata Chieri and Aris didn’t watch this time; they each went about their own business. Hanasaki Sayaka, on the other hand, observed the second spar with sparkling eyes. She really does love combat sports.
“Don’t you practice martial arts yourself, Hanasaki?”
“I actually learned a little. When I told the president I wanted to train, he introduced me to several martial artists.”
The president… she must mean Taira Kokoro. Given that Hanasaki Sayaka is one of Japan’s top three actresses in her age group, it made sense that he would introduce her to some professionals under the guise of self-defense training.
“Would you like to see?” she asked. “Yah! Yah!”
Hanasaki Sayaka demonstrated a few stances and threw some punches. Surprisingly, there was real power and speed behind her movements. It was clearly beyond beginner level.
“You’ve learned quite well.”
“Really? Hehe.”
Embarrassed, Hanasaki Sayaka scratched the back of her head and laughed. Under normal circumstances I would have given her more pointers, but now wasn’t the time. I told them I needed to shower off the sweat and returned to my room.
I immediately checked the statue of the Abyssal Daughter sitting on the bedside table.
By my calculations, the elixir would emerge from the statue’s breasts in about four hours. I had rushed back to the room because I was worried I might have miscalculated the timing during the spar.
Looking at the schedule, it seemed the nectar would appear right around the end of halftime and the start of the second half of Kazuhiro’s match.
In the end, I would have to bring the statue of the Abyssal Daughter with me to the stadium… At forty-five centimeters tall, it was by no means small. Carrying it openly into the venue would be awkward, slipping into the bathroom with it would be even more awkward. Nothing but awkwardness all around.
I’d just have to put it in a backpack and sling it over my shoulder. I could check the gauge between plays. If people stared, they stared. With a face stat of 8, I could endure a little embarrassment. The stats came first.
After confirming the timing, I was about to head into the shower when my smartphone vibrated. It was Kazuhiro.
It hadn’t been that long since he arrived in America, yet he was already starting in a derby match. Pretty impressive. I sent the reply and stepped into the shower.
After showering, I didn’t have time to rest. The drive from Fujigasaki Rinka’s Malibu villa to the LA Andromeda’s home stadium, Dignity Health Sports Park, took forty minutes. I planned to head over early, park, do a little sightseeing nearby, and then enter the venue.
I slipped the statue of the Abyssal Daughter into my bag and climbed into the Starcraft van with Kiyohira at the wheel. Just like at the airport, I took the passenger seat beside him.
“What’s in the bag?”
Kiyohira glanced at the bag I was cradling carefully.
“I need somewhere to put souvenirs if I buy any while sightseeing.”
I answered vaguely, claiming I had brought it for souvenirs. Kiyohira gave me a slightly strange look.
“‘Somewhere to put’… wouldn’t ‘something to carry them in’ sound more natural? Typical Ragman, every word out of your mouth is perverted…”
“Don’t say weird stuff.”
I had to admit that living such a debauched life had made my word choices a little obscene. I’d have to be more careful from now on. Thankfully the girls were running a bit late and hadn’t gotten in the car yet. Otherwise I might have spent the entire trip being called Ragman.
“Aris and the others are here, so stop using weird nicknames like Ragman.”
“Got it.”
“By the way, why haven’t you introduced us to your girlfriend?”
I suddenly remembered that when Kiyohira had briefly returned to Japan, he had shown us a photo of his girlfriend, so I asked. At my question, Kiyohira made a bitter face and shook his head.
“We broke up.”
“Why?”
“She lost… she lost weight…”
What a crazy bastard… Kiyohira’s type was plump women on the border between chubby and fat, so when his girlfriend slimmed down, he ended the relationship. His sexual preferences really were bizarre.
“Sorry I’m a little late.”
Aris opened the car door and apologized. She wore a cool outfit—tank top, short blue pants, and sunglasses. Mimata Chieri had on tight jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to her enhanced figure. Last came Hanasaki Sayaka in a sundress and a wide-brimmed hat that could hide her face with just a slight tilt. Since she was quite famous in Japan, the large hat was probably for disguise.
As for me, I wore a Hawaiian shirt and loose shorts. It was the height of summer, after all.
Kiyohira had on a black T-shirt with his gym’s logo prominently displayed and loose, breathable black pants. Anyone would immediately assume he was either a gym staff member or a fighter.
“It’s fine. We didn’t wait long.”
It was a relief that she had arrived late and missed Kiyohira’s Ragman comment. Once everyone was in, Kiyohira started the car. We took the coastal road toward the city center. The atmosphere was completely different from New York.
Unlike New York, which was packed with skyscrapers piercing the sky, Los Angeles gave an endless impression of low-rise buildings stretching on forever.
After forty minutes we arrived at the parking lot of Dignity Health Sports Park. With less than an hour left before the match, we wandered around the stadium area for a bit before heading inside.
Kazuhiro had reserved extremely expensive VIP seats for us, so instead of sitting in the regular stands, we watched from a high indoor box with powerful air-conditioning and a full glass front.
There was even a buffet in the hallway, and the space was divided by partitions so our group could sit together. It was incredibly comfortable. Best of all, the bathroom was close by, which pleased me most.
Reserving an entire block of VIP seats for the rival team’s home stadium… Kazuhiro must have spent quite a bit.
I discreetly opened my bag and checked the remaining time.
Since it was forty minutes before kickoff, I would be able to drink the elixir right around the start of the second half, just as I had calculated.
When the players from both teams came out and began warming up, small cheers erupted from the stands. With sixty thousand spectators in attendance, the giant screen showed cheerleaders dancing.
“There! It’s Kazuhiro!”
Kiyohira pointed. Sure enough, it was him. In Tokyo he had been the only Black player, so he was easy to spot. Here in America there were quite a few Black players on the team, making him harder to pick out from a distance, yet Kiyohira had found him instantly.
The match soon began. To lay groundwork for excusing myself to the bathroom during the second half, I loaded up a huge plate from the buffet in the hallway.
“We’re eating dinner after the game. Why did you pile so much food on your plate?”
“I worked out earlier, so I need to replenish my energy.”
Kiyohira looked astonished at the mountain of food I had brought back. Aris and Hanasaki Sayaka, who didn’t have big appetites, only took light drinks. Mimata Chieri, who loved gourmet food, filled her plate with dishes rarely seen in Japan.
It was a derby, so the game was fiercely physical. Several yellow cards were issued early, and one player was injured right from the start.
Kazuhiro, starting on the left wing, beat three defenders and scored just fifteen minutes into the first half. The cameraman cleverly caught the U.S. national team coach applauding. The satisfied look on the coach’s face suggested Kazuhiro would soon earn a call-up.
Riding the momentum from his goal, Kazuhiro delivered an assist ten minutes later and then scored a second goal with a long-range shot right before halftime.
Kazuhiro had said he would get a hat-trick today. At this rate, he really might pull it off.
Of course, I kept checking the gauge through a small gap in my bag the entire time I watched the match.
The first half ended with FCLA leading 3–2. I deliberately rubbed my stomach.
“Ah… maybe the salmon salad was off. My stomach feels a little upset.”
Mimata Chieri, who had been happily munching on the buffet food beside me, reacted immediately.
“You should go to the bathroom, junior.”
“I suppose I should.”
I nodded at Mimata Chieri’s suggestion, picked up my bag, and stood.
“Why are you taking your bag?”
“Uh… no reason…”
I gave Aris an awkward answer and hurried to the restroom. Since the gauge had already reached 99.9999 a while ago, the elixir could emerge at any moment.
I burst into the stall, slammed the toilet lid shut, and sat down. Then I pulled the statue of the Abyssal Daughter from my bag. It looked slightly damp.
Perfect timing! A faintly fluorescent blue liquid had formed at the tips of both nipples on the statue of the Abyssal Daughter.
To avoid spilling even a single drop, I alternated between sucking on each breast.
Suddenly the world went completely dark. The next thing I knew, I was sucking on the real Abyssal Daughter’s breasts.
------Abyss-chan~!
Abyss-chan even wearing a swimsuit
Abyssal Daughter in a different art style