Chapter 100

“...Sob.”

Erabelle had to lie facedown with a thick pillow beneath her lower abdomen and take him from behind.

Gripping her slender waist as she clutched the sheets and braced herself, he pulled her onto him and thrust his penis deep inside. He released a long breath, grinding against her before driving hard into her again.

“Ah...!”

Erabelle flinched at the sensation of her buttocks spreading apart.

“Did you know snakes have two cocks?”

“De-Dezeb, but snakes don’t have arms or legs....”

Therefore, since he had limbs, there was no reason for him to have two sets of genitalia like a snake. Erabelle had been about to argue that if he was going to be humanoid anyway, wouldn’t it be better for him to be completely humanoid? But her words trailed off.

Already stunned by the thick penis pounding into her vaginal walls, she began trembling with shock when she felt another one entering her anus.

“You’ll have to get used to it.”

With both penises inside her, he began thrusting slowly, gently kissing the corners of her unblinking eyes as tears spilled from them.

“Once we’re married, you’ll have to spend the rest of your life with me like this.”

“L-later....”

“Yes?”

“We can deal with... later when it comes....”

Dezeb abruptly let his full weight fall onto her and wrapped both arms tightly around her, his body shaking. Trapped beneath him, Erabelle felt as though she were dying. After laughing for a long while, he whispered something into the ear of the groaning Erabelle.

“...What?”

She must have misheard him. What had he just said...?

“Forget about later. What are you going to do about right now?”

She didn’t think that was what he had said, but then he pressed both inserted organs firmly against her inner walls, turning her mind blank. Erabelle’s eyes flew wide as she trembled violently.

“If-if we postpone right now until later too....”

“What am I supposed to do when I have two hard cocks right now? That’s so cruel.”

Tenderly brushing back her sweat-soaked dark brown curls, he whispered,

“M-my situation is more serious....”

The sensation of two penises simultaneously pounding her inner walls made her feel as though she might stop breathing. Dezeb planted little kisses beside her ear as he continued thrusting steadily.

“We’re not narrowing the gap between our positions at all, are we?”

“I’ll only get off once,” he whispered, laughter in his voice, while Erabelle writhed and trembled. His hand pressed her down and told her to stay still amid the wet sounds, moans, and ragged breathing filling the small camper van’s darkened bedroom.

Her sense of reality drifted away into a haze.

Only his somewhat cool body temperature, his weight pressing down on her, and the strange amusement in his voice remained exceptionally vivid.

The next day, a slightly exhausted Erabelle woke late in the morning and lazed in bed, eating the food Dezeb brought her.

He tended to leave her alone whenever she dawdled in bed, but unlike usual, today he indulged her only until noon.

Once noon arrived, Dezeb made Erabelle help prepare the meal again.

She wanted to wilt dramatically on the grounds that her body hurt. Unfortunately, he had gone relatively easy on her the night before, so she wasn’t sore enough to make the act convincing without considerable talent.

In the end, she made oil pasta for breakfast while enduring nagging—no, advice—about cutting the ends off the garlic and not heating olive oil to high temperatures.

Then—

“......”

He brought her a pamphlet for a complex of ancient ruins.

I genuinely have no idea why he’s doing this.

Of course, my life has always been full of things I couldn’t understand... but at this point, it was impossible not to question it.

Seriously, why is he acting like this?

Why has he suddenly become so passionate about sightseeing? In her six years since enlisting—though she had spent one of them unconscious and had now been on leave for several more months—Erabelle had never once seen him take a vacation. Was this because the sightseeing itinerary he had planned at the marquisate, when he suggested taking the Vermilions on a trip, had fallen through?

Even so.

A camper van and ice fishing, followed by a ranch amusement park, a desert tour, and now ancient ruins. The itinerary was as random as the time she had been walking home from school with a twisted doughnut from a snack shop in her mouth and abruptly became stateless.

Right. The problem was that he hadn’t taken a vacation in years.

This was what happened when someone did nothing but work. Eventually, they went completely off the rails. People had to rest appropriately if they wanted to continue functioning like human beings....

She understood, but did he really have to drag her around behind him like a string of goldfish poop?

Erabelle stared at the pamphlet for the ruins with troubled eyes.

Something about the photograph of the solemnly seated, ten-meter-tall statue of the planetary deity disproportionately emphasized its nostrils. How had that happened...? Had it refused to pay the photographer?

“Go buy us some drinks.”

They were halfway to the ruins.

Dezeb had stopped briefly at a gas station to refuel the camper van. It was a small station with a shabby shop attached.

“Then I’ll get....”

“No beer.”

Are you telling me to drink and drive or what? Dezeb shook his head, saying Erabelle really was terrifying.

It would probably take an entire factory’s supply of laboratory alcohol to raise the blood alcohol level of someone with a level-thirteen body. Whether even that would work was questionable. If it had, people would have fired liquor at monsters instead of artillery shells. That would have been more fun.

“God, you’re scary.”

Right. Everything was my fault.

While Dezeb filled the tank, she trudged into the shop. She bought bottled water, soda, and several kinds of snacks. By the time she came back outside, three or four grown men were picking a fight with him.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

There were many ways to commit suicide in this world.

They did not specifically have to pick a fight with a level-thirteen humanoid monster who also happened to be the most notorious arms dealer and mercenary contractor in space, as well as the leader of an organization specializing in mass slaughter.

...Come to think of it, I didn’t buy enough snacks.

Erabelle quietly backed away.

“Hey, are you laughing?”

Dezeb looked rather entertained.

Of course he was. He had just confirmed the effectiveness of the perception-disruption device made by the company he had recently acquired. A god of wealth or a god of calamity—it was only a one-word difference either way.

The men appeared to be petty thieves. One distracted the target by picking a fight while two others picked his pockets from behind. If he looked easy enough to handle, they would drag him away and rob him of everything he had.

Dezeb must have looked easy to handle.

Technology had apparently made revolutionary progress. The men ordered him to follow °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° them. He quietly went after them and returned alone a short while later.

“Why are you just standing there? It’s hot. Hurry up and get in.”

“Yes.”

Hugging the bag to her chest, Erabelle quickly climbed into the vehicle.

“What did you buy to drink? Soda?”

“Yes, and bottled water....”

“Then I’ll have the soda. You can drink the water.”

She had expected that, so she had bought two cans of soda. He glanced into the bag and clicked his tongue.

This was why people should always live prepared for every eventuality....

An ambulance sped past the window.

“......”

Erabelle fell silent for a moment, turning to watch the ambulance race away with its lights flashing and a cloud of dust billowing behind it, as if responding to an urgent call.

“I didn’t kill them.”

Dezeb proceeded to complain.

“Everyone treats me like a murderer at the drop of a hat. What am I, some kind of psychopath?”

He had no conscience.

“Watch the map for me.”

“It looks like we only need to stay on this road for another two hours.”

The car raced along a two-lane road through the vast, deserted plains, seeming to chase the brilliantly clear sky.

The ruins were just as deserted.

...Please don’t get too stressed.

Erabelle gazed up at the statue of the planetary deity with its impressive nostrils.

You’ll feel better if you accept that some things in this world simply can’t be helped.

She felt sorry for the planetary deity, who must feel as though some ruffian were stomping through its bedroom in muddy shoes. She also felt sorry that the statue was so enormous that, from below, its nostrils were all anyone could see no matter where they stood. Apparently, it hadn’t been the photographer’s fault.

Still, the complex of ruins was more worth seeing than she had expected. She had never imagined she would visit a place like this in her life, but she could understand why people traveled such long distances to see ancient sites.

“Put these in the box.”

Dezeb also appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the ruins.

He returned carrying their admission tickets and pamphlets, along with commemorative photographs and souvenirs—a refrigerator magnet, an ornament for a shelf, and even a bundle of postcards whose purpose Erabelle could not fathom.

“We’d get more value out of buying another hot dog....”

“Then you can sell all your James photocards and buy one.”

“On second thought, photographs are better. Once enough time passes, photographs are all you have left.”

“I’m sure.”

After spending the entire day touring the ruins, they headed to a strawberry farm.

“......”

Erabelle decided to stop thinking about the situation altogether.

Accepting that some things in this world simply couldn’t be helped brought peace of mind.

The snowy wilderness with the roaming bear had been better.

Most of the visitors inside the strawberry farm were families. The sight of Dezeb striding among children who had come with their parents to experience farm life was... Yes, the bear had been better.

He even bought six whole kilograms of strawberries. He bought everything they had picked beyond the allotted amount.

“All of these....”

“We can freeze some to make sorbet, make jam, and blend the rest into juice.”

All of those things could be bought.

“You just thought we could go to a supermarket and be done with it, didn’t you? Making it yourself is much healthier. There aren’t any additives, either.”

There was labor instead. Once the stress caused by that labor was factored in, buying it ready-made was still a far better deal.

Food truly was meant to be bought.