Winning Favor Was The Easiest Job! (5)

My bedroom was sweltering again tonight.

Only toward dawn did I finally fall asleep with Allena in my arms, and before I woke, she quietly slipped out of the bedroom and returned to her routine.

The fact that her movement woke me too left me feeling a bit hollow, but when I recalled Allena’s face—dozing with a satisfied look after having taken a mouthful last night—I only looked down at the fellow offering his morning greeting.

“Sigh, everything’s fine—except the facilities are inconvenient.”

If there had been plumbing like on Earth, I could have rinsed off this stickiness right away, but the lack of it felt terribly inconvenient.

At least I had asked Seria to always have a bucket of water ready, so I got out of bed and used the water in the bucket to wash only down below and started my day.

Clothes were always prepared in multiple sets, so I put on something simple and headed to the workshop for the second round of experiments—when it happened.

Beyond the workshop, a door opened cautiously and a head peeked out.

It was Hare. Our eyes happened to meet, and her face lit up with delight.

“Is something the matter?”

“Um… I was given clothes, but I don’t know how to put them on…”

“…I see.”

It seemed the maids, eager to treat my invited guest with utmost courtesy, had prepared various things. But since the “clothes” part was the obstacle, I first glanced up and down the corridor and said:

“For now, please wait inside. I’ll send a maid.”

“I… was uncomfortable all night. If you just show me how to wear them, that should be enough…?”

“Didn’t the maids explain it?”

“…They’re afraid of me.”

Realizing anew that Hare was beastkin, I sighed and said:

“You aren’t… undressed, are you?”

“No, I’ve put something on.”

Hearing she was dressed, I said “All right,” went to her door, and stepped through as it opened.

In the gray light of dawn, she was indeed wearing something—but it was as good as half-naked. I had to avert my eyes.

“Ahem. Didn’t you say you were dressed?”

“This is about what we wear to sleep.”

I had assumed her whole body would be covered with fur. But apart from a few exposed areas, she was almost the same as a human; what subtly provoked me was the fur rising from her mound up toward her navel—surprisingly erotic.

She had on underwear, but how to put it…?

It gave the illusion that only the crucial bits were barely covered.

Anyway, unlike human women, beastkin women had more body hair, which felt rather stimulating. But nothing would proceed like this, so I took a deep breath, turned my head, and looked her squarely in the face.

Then Hare, instead, blushed faintly and brought her hands to cover the important parts. Even if it was just sleepwear, the amount of exposed skin made her shy.

Seeing the clothes strewn about on the table in front of her, I picked one up, looked it over, checked the front and back, and said:

“This side is the front. Slip it over your head so it comes through here, then push your arms out right and left. It’s a one-piece.”

She thanked me and put it on exactly as I held it. The swing of her breasts and the fine, fair skin during the process kept catching my eyes, and I felt an urge to touch the soft, downy hair that lightly fuzzed her skin.

“It must be very soft…”

There was such a thing as tactile satisfaction, and this looked like it would more than deliver.

But I could not act on instinct. Beastkin could tear a human apart.

So far, so good—until:

“Mm…”

At the sudden sound from Hare, I looked over; her tails were caught under the dress, and she looked flustered.

Hare, after all, had two tails.

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“Um… yes, a bit…”

Wondering what to do, I scanned the room, found scissors, and asked:

“If I cut a hole where the tails can go out, would that help?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea!”

I stepped behind her with the scissors; she flinched and glanced back at me, then—hesitating—stuck out her hips.

Well, I was only going to hold the fabric and cut a suitable hole; what problem could there be? So I cut at what I recalled was the right spot. Hare twitched each time; when I finished, I asked:

“It’s done. Want to try pulling them through?”

At my words, she said “Yes,” barely above a whisper, and began to move her tails. Maybe the hole wasn’t big enough?

Even I felt impatient watching. Then one tail seemed to be stubby and bent where it caught at the hole; to help, I curled my fingers around that spot and tugged—at which Hare let out a strange moan.

“Haa-uuuuuh…”

Then she collapsed to her knees, breathing hard, and I panicked.

“A-are you okay?!”

I crouched to meet her eyes; Hare said:

“B-beastkin… tails are… um… hnngh…”

She even hiccupped now. I wondered what on earth was going on.

“Are they… sensitive?”

Hare nodded slowly. I recalled how cats and dogs sometimes reacted sensitively when their tails were touched.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know—I made a mistake. But, um… can you manage the rest yourself?”

“I-I’ll try.”

With little grunts, Hare pulled the rest of the tail through the hole; the second ring came out easily, and both tails swished. The sensation of her tail lingered in my fingers, stirring a needless urge to touch again—but I suppressed it, apologized once more, and left the room.

I could feel Hare’s prickly gaze on my back, but for now, putting distance between us felt better for both.

After breakfast, I met with Guts.

“So the invigorators are all the rage these days, right?”

“Once they began to be known to the public as a ‘blessing of the gods,’ not only the price but the efficacy made many people want them.”

In the past, Kuts—no, Guts—had tossed around blunt speech, but now that I was a “Viscount,” he addressed me carefully with honorifics.

“If many people want them, a handful won’t satisfy demand.”

“That’s why… we came to bring you. We had no idea you were living so comfortably here…”

“You called it the Demonic Frontier? The Ingrad Domain?”

“Yes. A land that rejects human footsteps—in truth, beastkin and monsters alike are objects of fear to humans. Tales of beastkin siding with the Demon Tribe are terror to humans.”

“Beastkin tear humans apart.”

I turned that phrase over again and nodded slowly. Remembering how Debik one-punched the Ogre Lord’s teeth out, I could tell it was dangerous.

There were many other indicators, but the beastkin who had become my domain folk had no reason to be hostile to me, and as for those who might become domain folk, my image among them was not bad thanks to the beastkin who thought well of me.

“Looking long-term… we won’t be outmatched on the military front, huh?”

I thought it better not to maintain a large standing force; instead I would work hard on beastkin goodwill and, when threats arose from time to time, ask for help to overcome them.

I only needed to recruit a few beastkin who would faithfully stick by me.

“Candy Cross might be more important than it looks…”

I had heard that once beastkin children turned fifteen, they gained the strength to tear up most monsters. For now they were too weak and needed the protection of adult beastkin, but once they came of age and received their so-called “aptitudes,” they became unrecognizably powerful.

I had heard humans sometimes enjoyed privilege for similar reasons.

Strictly speaking, perhaps I was enjoying such privilege too. Thanks to the multifaceted talent called Pharmacy, I had deep knowledge of “medicine,” and in support of that, “Blessing of Mana” and “Blessing of Magic Power” created tremendous synergy; it was the right view that I had drawn a talent combination so good it could not be chalked up to mere “good luck.”

“If I asked you to come regularly, you wouldn’t, right?”

“…It’s not a matter of how many times. No one will want to come. Even this time, we forced… dragged them here. No—‘pushed in the back’ is more accurate.”

According to Guts, most of the Bul-gasi Mercenary Company who came with him were married men; goaded by their wives, they were conscripted and moved in Guts’s wake as a strong man—an absurd story.

“If a husband came to this death ground and died, then what?”

His wife would suddenly become a widow. Worse, I thought in this case the treatment would be even harsher.

Because they had literally driven their husbands to death. No matter how strong Guts was, it was over the line.

They were lucky the dogfolk had saved them when they were all on the verge of dying; otherwise…?

By now they’d likely be rotting somewhere. Or become a fine snack for monsters.

Heaven had helped. It was luck of the highest order.

“How do you plan to get back?”

“…I heard people come to the Ingrad Domain periodically from the imperial capital. We planned to attach ourselves to some merchant and move with them.”

“That just sounds like you have no plan at all.”

If the merchants refused, they would be stranded here. And would merchants not know the environment? They could make unreasonable demands. So Guts’s plan was full of foolishness.

I wanted to point this out—my tongue itched—but I judged there was no use in merely pressing him.

“Well, perfect timing then. Maybe I’ll take these men and try various experiments…”

If I was lucky, I thought, it wouldn’t be bad to accept these mercenaries into our domain. People assumed mercenaries were rough, but some were simple and earnest.

Guts was the sort I could trust; if those were the men he led, then surely not all of them had rotten heads.

I was certain the Ingrad of the future would be transformed beyond recognition. It would be impossible to respond to everything with beastkin alone; just then I resolved that I should be ready to draw others in, step by step.