63

The elf surveillance outpost, skillfully crafted by exploiting protrusions and hollows midway up the cliff and forcibly bending surrounding branches to ensure stealth, was an impressive feat, even to myself, considering it was built without tools.

At this outpost, I crouched with my tail curled, monitoring a group of elves at the river—an elf who was once a soldier of the now-fallen Empire, making this my most critical task.

Though it seemed an unworthy mission for someone with specs that would make even the Genetically Enhanced Soldier Project pale, underestimating elves was out of the question.

They were the only race to breach the defenses of the Empire, which had held its ground against all neighboring nations.

Moreover, these elves had once subjugated me, a genetically enhanced soldier, using the forbidden magic of “domination.”

As an Imperial soldier, neglecting such a threat was unthinkable.

Even though the Empire was gone, my heart remained loyal to my homeland, forever an Imperial soldier.

Even if the target was women or children, I conducted my surveillance without letting my guard down.

With these enhanced eyes, I could discern fine details even from a distance.

Understanding their language allowed me to pick up their voices, ensuring no secret slipped through.

I never rushed.

Even if results were sparse, I steadily uncovered their secrets.

That was the mission assigned to me, the duty of an Imperial soldier.

“Hey, give it back!”

I kept watching Number 8, her ample chest—barely concealed by one arm—swaying as she chased boys in the river, trying to reclaim her stolen jacket.

As always, she was at the mercy of the children, caught in their ever-evolving pranks, her wet undergarments transparently clinging to her skin.

Her breasts, spilling from her arms with each step, bounced vigorously, and I nodded approvingly at this heartwarming scene.

Yes, this was exactly what I sought.

Five days had passed since I left the elf village—returning to the outpost, I was swamped with chores.

Having neglected the place for over a month, cleaning was necessary, as was checking functional equipment and inspecting cooking tools on the ground level.

I quickly tidied up, thoroughly scouted the outpost’s surroundings, and checked for signs of goblins or other creatures.

I found traces of something, costing me three days of investigation.

The result? Just a stray orc.

Orcs and goblins typically vied for territory, and in this forest, goblins seemed dominant.

But perhaps due to my relentless destruction of goblin colonies, the power balance might have been shifting.

Thus, on the fourth day, I finally resumed my river surveillance.

There was Number 8, energetically pranked by the children.

The elves didn’t seem to view me as much of a threat.

Yet, no elves appeared at other surveillance points.

Indeed, Number 8, part of the Natural Harmony Committee, seemed to perceive me differently from others.

‘But is it really okay to involve the kids?’ I couldn’t help but wonder, though for her, knowing we could communicate through writing, I aligned with the Committee’s ideals.

With such a convenient existence living so close, perhaps she deemed the slight risk acceptable—a glimpse of Number 8’s shrewdness shifted my perspective slightly.

(Come to think of it, she’s likely a high-ranking figure, navigating the murky waters of organizations and factions, so it’s no surprise she has this side.)

While pondering this, I watched Number 8 gracefully tripped by a boy who, with marvelous finesse, stole her underwear and raised it in a victory pose.

I imagined a white cloth fluttering, but it was just her damp, slightly translucent underwear.

Gazing at her fully exposed rear, I watched Number 8’s counterattack unfold.

Stripped of her jacket and underwear, Number 8 was practically naked—a true feast for the eyes.

The captured boys shamelessly pressed their faces into her chest, fully savoring their childhood.

I belatedly noticed the girls’ harsh glares at this scene.

It couldn’t be helped—I was always fixated on Number 8.

Thus, I missed one girl wading through the river toward Number 8.

By the time I noticed, the girl’s hands were reaching for Number 8, who was too busy grabbing a prankster to react.

Then, the girl’s hands reached her.

Number 8 hurriedly released the boy she held—but it was too late.

The girl’s hands groped Number 8’s chest.

“This is the root of all evil!” shouted the girl, about ten years old, clutching Number 8’s breasts.

Not a line you’d expect from a child that age.

It seemed a battle among girls had begun.

Instinctively sensing I shouldn’t get involved, I silently cheered for the boy waving Number 8’s white underwear like a trophy, wishing him to “crash and burn.”

Amidst their squealing, I savored Number 8’s disheveled state.

Satisfied with this long-awaited “Number 8 theater,” I watched them leave, then checked the other surveillance points again.

Somehow, I felt today would bring something good.

After passing time and checking all points at a safe distance from the river, I found no changes.

The sun dipped, nearing the time when the river would glow with sunset.

(This is when Number 8 and her friends return! I must hurry back!)

I dashed to the outpost and prepared just as Number 8 and three friends arrived.

Sadly, she wore undergarments, but the wet, clinging fabric was wonderfully translucent.

A new door seemed to open, but their wary expressions, frequently glancing at the forest, suggested they weren’t fully at ease.

“Is it really okay?”

One friend anxiously asked Number 8, who responded with a smile.

Perhaps she didn’t think I’d attack at all.

Listening to their conversation while admiring their bare legs splashing in the river, I strained to hear.

Due to the distance, normal voices were hard to catch clearly—a flaw of this outpost.

Whispered talks were impossible to discern.

After watching them leave, I gleaned some insights.

It seemed the elves were still debating how to handle me, with discussions ongoing.

The Natural Harmony Committee, led by Number 8, seemed to be testing me by coming to the river so unguardedly.

Her friends, wary of the forest from start to finish, likely saw me as a dangerous entity.

They recognized me as a new threat that devoured their nemesis, the Forest’s Nightmare.

Thus, staying hidden and observing from afar seemed the best course for now.

With newfound excitement for tomorrow, I decided to spend the night at the outpost and headed to the river to catch fish for dinner.

I also thoroughly washed my body.

The water supply at the outpost couldn’t satisfy this massive frame.

For bathing, the river was best.

While catching fish, I sensed a presence.

(Hmm… I can guess who’s coming this way.)

Honestly, I wasn’t ready to meet her yet.

She was fine to watch from the shadows, but her likely intentions made me wary of engaging now.

Unlike mercenaries who might prank for fun, that could backfire, so I quietly kept my distance.

I wanted more fish, but I’d keep dinner light tonight.

I confirmed Number 8 was moving along the river after I left.

She was likely searching for me.

(She’s a good person, but getting used could lead to trouble. If not for that, being pampered like a pet might not be bad—actually, that sounds nice?)

Her appearance and figure were ideal.

Frankly, she was very much my type.

The issue was her role in the Natural Harmony Committee.

But what if being “tamed” turned that issue into an advantage?

(Number 8 fawning over me… not bad at all!)

Lost in runaway fantasies, I realized it was morning.

I’d calmed down.

I had no memory of eating or cleaning up, so engrossed was I—a lapse on my part.

What kind of weirdo would treat a monstrous, Nightmare-devouring beast like a pet?

“Well, maybe someone would,” I mused, entertaining the slim possibility.

My tastes were apparently growing more warped than I thought.

For now, I decided to secure breakfast and went to catch the fish I’d planned for last night.

During my time in the elf village, fish was never served, so perhaps this craving was a reaction.

It was still early for Number 8 and the kids to show up.

Still, I approached the river cautiously—and noticed a group of elves crossing it into the forest.

It felt like an event was about to unfold.