Chapter 51: 51. An Atmosphere That Leaves No Choice
Press. Press.
Cheon Hwayeong repeatedly pressed down on the furrow between Ryu-o’s brows as he looked up at her.
As she smoothed out his wrinkled brow, pressing against the faint fuzz that had grown there...
‘Cute little thing...’
Ever since that day... the day she had been subjected to ‘that,’ Cheon Hwayeong had been powerless against Ryu-o.
Whenever she looked at him, her chest clenched tight and the strength gradually seeped from her legs. It was like all the tension had drained out of her.
According to her original plan, she would have seduced this lewd bastard who got hard from merely seeing a woman naked, but...
"Then what’s the next realm?"
"...The Peak realm. It is known as the highest realm a human can attain. A realm where one commands inner energy as easily as one’s own limbs."
Whenever she tried to take off her clothes, her hands hesitated and her thighs clenched tightly, making it difficult.
Why was it? Why did her heart refuse to obey her whenever she was with this bastard, why did her face grow so hot?
Why did time fly whenever they simply sat here, chatting away together?
Lately, even the sleep she had once desired so desperately was no longer welcome.
When she woke, she should have felt refreshed and brimming with strength, yet she only felt... cold and empty.
Even when sunlight poured over her body in bed, it was nowhere near warm enough.
Whether or not he knew what was on her mind, Ryu-o simply continued questioning her with an interested look.
"Then what’s the realm after that? Ah, I think I’ve heard of it somewhere..."
Cheon Hwayeong wondered if she had been consumed by demonic madness.
Even the expression he made while thinking looked pretty, and his chattering lips were adorable. This was insane...
She merely put a hand to her forehead and spoke quietly.
"The Transcendent Peak realm. The final realm for a human. It is both the limit and the highest realm."
"Are you sick?"
The out-of-the-blue question caught Cheon Hwayeong off guard.
Sick? What did he mean, sick? She was explaining it so well...
Rustle...
"Anemia? No, I asked because you were holding your forehead and I got worried."
Cheon Hwayeong blankly looked down at Ryu-o as he moved her hand aside and pressed against her forehead.
She had thought he would only eagerly ask about the next realm.
Who did this insolent bastard think she was, worrying about her?
Normally, Cheon Hwayeong would have snapped at him.
But her tongue curled up and pressed against the roof of her mouth, causing her words to come out garbled.
"I-I’m f-fine... Ahem! Cough! I am fine."
Ryu-o frowned with a low hum.
"Tsk... Your forehead’s burning up. Didn’t you catch a cold?"
...Cheon Hwayeong brushed away Ryu-o’s hand, which was making her face burn, and gritted her teeth.
Smack!
"I said I am fine. I have long since reached a realm where a cold cannot afflict me."
"Really? Then what realm are you in? The Transcendent Peak?"
Cheon Hwayeong had undergone the remaking of bone and flesh, entering a realm where neither cold nor heat could affect her.
She swiftly cooled the heat in her face and feigned composure.
"Ha, that is a realm I surpassed long ago."
"We’re not even that far apart in age..."
Cheon Hwayeong looked at Ryu-o’s sullen face and laughed with delight.
"Hehe, that’s right. Not that far apart... unlike some people."
"Hm? What are you talking about?"
Reflecting on when she had become so petty, Cheon Hwayeong cleared her throat and explained.
"Ahem. The Transformation realm. It is a realm beyond the great wall of humanity, one that surpasses fist energy..."
Cheon Hwayeong would ordinarily never show off like this.
But the excitement in her chest moved her to do so.
When she clenched her fist, shining threads made of inner energy wound around Cheon Hwayeong’s hand.
"Wow..."
At last, the gathered, woven threads blazed brightly, as if they meant to burn the heavens.
Hummm!
With a murderous, ominous radiance, they instantly stole Ryu-o’s gaze.
"It is the realm in which one can wield fist aura."
"...This is seriously cool. How did you do that?"
Ryu-o stared wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open.
Warmth filled Cheon Hwayeong’s chest, and her expression melted.
In the end, she even forgot her dignity and spoke with a smug curl of her lips.
"Ha. Drawing fist energy out in fine strands is called fist thread, and weaving and gathering those strands is how one creates fist aura."
"Drawing qi out in thin strands? Oh..."
Cheon Hwayeong wanted to pull Ryu-o into a tight embrace and stroke him.
To squish him this way and that, sit on him, and roll around with him...
‘...I need to put more effort into my training.’
Cheon Hwayeong gathered her increasingly softening mind and hardened it once more.
Remembering the great undertaking she must not forget, she soaked her body once again in the flowing blood of her cultists...
Hummm...
"Huh? Is it like this?"
When Cheon Hwayeong’s gaze landed on Ryu-o’s hand, a stupid sound slipped from her mouth.
"...? Huh?"
Threads of qi, too ambiguous to call fist threads, fluttered through the air from Ryu-o’s palm.
Still, their nature was similar. If he could draw out many more, thinner strands, it seemed as though it might work somehow?
No, those things were not supposed to float around like strands of hair suspended underwater in the first place...?
They looked feeble, but if he simply increased their output and wrapped them around his hand, it seemed he could imitate it somehow.
Cheon Hwayeong felt as if the sky she had clawed her way up through endless hardship had come crashing down.
A first-rate martial artist was imitating the projection of aura?
This could not be happening. The heavens would surely rage and punish this insolent bastard.
The soft, fluffy feelings Cheon Hwayeong had developed for Ryu-o vanished in an instant, and she lost her mind.
"How did you make that?!"
"Huh? Wh-what’s wrong?"
"Quickly!"
As Ryu-o let the qi sway like wet seaweed, he began explaining.
"Um... Do you know sweat glands? I made them in my palm with [Mimicry], densely packed like a sieve, then I gently let qi flow through them as if I were straining it..."
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
Even with Cheon Hwayeong’s exalted level of martial arts, she could not understand it.
Using Mimicry to do what with qi? It was not as if he were playing around...
But the answer from Ryu-o’s mouth was even more absurd.
"Um, I just pulled it out long and thin, like making noodles? I squeezed out the inner energy in my body like noodle dough."
"Heh... Hehehe..."
Cheon Hwayeong was not confident she could even explain where this bastard had gone wrong.
If projecting aura worked like pulling strands from flour dough, every dog and cow would be in the Transformation realm.
No, not the Transformation realm. Would that make them half-Transformation?
In any case, there was only one thing Cheon Hwayeong could say.
"You crazy bastard..."
"Huh? Is it really that impressive?"
Cheon Hwayeong remembered the time Ryu-o had sucked her qi dry, and her head spun.
She pressed her forehead against Ryu-o’s, pushing against it firmly.
"Whew..."
"What is it?"
"I do not have the strength to say anything to you. Nor do I have the confidence to meddle with your methods..."
Cheon Hwayeong looked at Ryu-o’s dissatisfied expression and thought:
‘...His eyelashes are long...’
Thud!
"??? What the hell? Why did you headbutt me?"
"Quiet! Sit cross-legged."
"Sister, your little brother is worried about you. Lately, the side effects of your demonic art have been getting worse—"
When Cheon Hwayeong glared at him with a murderous expression, Ryu-o rolled his eyes and pretended to look elsewhere.
Cheon Hwayeong’s anger melted away instantly, and her face softened slightly.
Her chest kept tickling, so Cheon Hwayeong hugged Ryu-o as he sat cross-legged and hid her expression.
Squeeze!
"You haven’t held me like this lately, so why today..."
Cheon Hwayeong did not even imagine that the sound of her heartbeat was echoing through Ryu-o’s head.
"...Yesterday’s training was grueling. That is all."
That was all she could do—make a pathetic excuse with a mind that would not work properly.
Cheon Hwayeong was no fool.
Nor was Ryu-o.
Pretending to deceive each other, the two hid each other behind their own shoulders.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Cheon Hwayeong thought:
‘...This is nice.’
Was it herself being squashed against his solid embrace? The warmth blending into her? Their resonating heartbeats?
Or was it Ryu-o?
‘All of it.’
Cheon Hwayeong did not realize that her greed had lessened.
Normally, she would have stripped everything off and made this lewd male go into heat, but...
Having lost the initiative, Cheon Hwayeong would have been satisfied with just this much.
Jolt! Squeeze♥
If this lewd bastard had not thrust forward that thing, the mere thought of which made her holes clench tight...
"Y-you bastard... Ha, it had been quiet for a while, and now..."
"Demonic art!"
The two looked at each other, their faces bright red.
"It’s because of the demonic art..."
"Th-that’s right..."
Heat clouded the vision of a Transformation-realm martial artist.
Then what about a first-rate martial artist?
"Haa... haa..."
"Ha... This is driving me crazy."
For now, they could see no one else in the world but each other.
The two of them had thought they had held back well all this time.
Like a dam bursting... no, like a volcano erupting...
♥♥♥
Labyrinth City was not merely open-minded—it was wide open!
The conversation of conniving women always came down to one subject.
Men.
They said Eastern men were the best-looking, while Western men were the most forward~
And if you asked, ‘Ahem! Then what about Northern men?’ you would find that Northern men were not very popular.
Was it because they were strong-willed? Because they seemed stupid? No.
It was because, compared to their looks, their personalities were too prickly.
In over half the tribes of the northern region, men were expected to spread their seed, so plump, well-fed physiques were considered the best.
Something about how the more they ate, the more they came... But they were arrogant and violent too?
From a woman’s perspective, she would not take one even if he were handed to her for free.
That was a digression.
Among the districts discussed for their openness, there was one district that was always excluded.
That place was the South.
The South was beyond open-minded—it was a district of pleasure itself.
There were brothels and courtesan houses in the East and West too, but they were businesses discreetly run on the side...
The South was a place people openly came to fuck.
Given the nature of Labyrinth City, women’s sex drives could not help but be strong.
They risked their lives for a living, and whenever they returned from a dungeon, the stress made their pussies itch like crazy.
Eastern and Western merchants and pimps, targeting that market, gradually gathered in the South.
As its scale steadily grew, the southern district of Labyrinth City settled firmly in that direction...
"Oh my~ Big sister~ Come visit our shop!!!"
There were so many men in thin clothes soliciting customers that one could practically trip over them.
A pink-haired woman saw one of those frail-looking men and waved with a smile.
"Sorry! I came looking for a prostitute!"
"Huh? So you like women, big sister? Then keep heading allll the way toward the southeast!"
"Oh! Thanks, male prostitute! But it’s not like that!"
Clink~
The male prostitute nimbly snatched the tossed silver coin and smiled brightly.
"Hoho~ Thank you! Then is that handsome gentleman beside you for you? If you want a threesome, head to the southwest~"
"...Haha, I will consider it if the sky falls..."
Ethan gave an awkward wave and followed after Riner.
Riner walked along in high spirits.
Faced with true madness, Ethan had grown cautious.
"Miss Riner? Where exactly are you going?"
His master had told him to follow her because she was worried, so Ethan had come along.
Riner looked at Ethan’s puzzled tilt of the head and beamed.
"To get a love potion!"
"...? Pardon?"
"They say the South has lots of drugs that make a man’s cock stand straight up and turn him into a lunatic who does nothing but thrust his hips!"
How was that a love potion?
Wasn’t it just an aphrodisiac? Or a narcotic?
Ethan smiled faintly and nodded.
"Miss Riner, are you an idiot?"
Riner tilted her head with an expression that said she genuinely had no idea.
"Hm?"
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