Chapter 40: A Journey Back Home and a War of Nerves
Clunk. Clunk.
In the silence, the sound of the carriage wheels rolling was the only thing heard.
“Hahaha… The weather is really nice. It would be perfect if we didn’t encounter any bandits. But, what brings you to Mountain Swallow Village?”
“……..”
“……..”
“…….. Hmm, the weather is really nice. It’s rare for someone to visit a mountain village. Last time, I had some adventurers aboard. Are you also adventurers, my dear guests?”
“……..”
“……..”
“Huh, hahaha…”
Regardless of whether the coachman wanted to chat to escape this awkwardness, I was intensely staring at Pink-Haired Lesbian, trying to win this war of nerves. We were locked in a silent glare, not uttering a single word.
I had to break her spirit. I couldn’t let the established relationship twist in any way. I needed to either dominate or at least establish an equal footing. Only then could I fend off the wicked claws of that Evil Lesbian.
I had to protect my tiny and precious Tower Master. I needed to seize the atmosphere, win this clash, and deter her from even thinking of flirting with the Tower Master.
“……..”
“……..”
This was a battle where the first one to speak would be the loser.
Even as my eyes ached, drying out like crunchy chips, I endured. The dryness of the cornea didn’t matter. What was vital was victory, and I was approaching it. Pain was bearable.
At that moment, Pink-Haired Lesbian slowly leaned in.
“……..?!”
Her face came close. Closer… and closer! Without stopping!
What is this? What does it mean? At this rate… we will touch.
I meant our lips would touch!
The butterfly fluttering around danced dynamically.
…No, it must be a bluff. Sacrificing the purity of our lips just to win a nerve battle didn’t add up. It was definitely a bluff. Without a doubt, a bluff.
Our noses touched.
The reflection of my eyes in Pink-Haired Lesbian’s pupils trembled as if there was an earthquake. This couldn’t continue. I needed to collect my thoughts. Showing agitation was synonymous with defeat.
To win…
To win, I also had to lean in. I had to assert that it didn’t matter if we kissed or not, that I was a brazen playboy. I had to declare that she would be the one backing down, not me.
But… what if we collide?
If that happens? What becomes of me…
Should I retreat? If I move forward, will Pink-Haired Lesbian back down? If she doesn’t…? No, no, this dilemma, this worry, is precisely what Pink-Haired Lesbian wants. I must not be fooled. I must muster courage.
I needed to have the courage to take a step forward even if it meant jumping off a cliff!
I, too, leaned in. With determination, I pushed my face forward. Our noses grazed past each other when—
Clunk!
The carriage jolted violently.
“……..”
“……..”
A somewhat different silence enveloped us. If the previous silence had the tension of two swordsmen in a standoff…
This silence reflected the pain and regret of two fools who had lost something precious while engaging in a pointless war of nerves. We both opened our mouths simultaneously.
“Pink-Haired Lesbian.”
“Crazy Wizard.”
“Let’s pretend this never happened.”
“Brushing past shouldn’t count, right?”
“……..”
“……..”
I cradled my lips in agony. Pink-Haired Lesbian, too, was banging her forehead against the carriage wall while tugging at her own hair. We gained nothing and lost so much.
Only the fluttering sound of an outraged butterfly could be heard…
===============================================================
After spending some time healing our emotional wounds, we could finally continue our conversation. Though we didn’t voice our agreement, we silently consigned ourselves to a ceasefire with our gazes.
“Crazy Wizard, you’re heading to your hometown, right?”
“Yeah, Pink-Haired Lesbian. I have no memories of my hometown, so I’m heading back to revive them.”
There were three main reasons for this sudden visit to my hometown (a place I couldn’t remember):
1. As someone born in the Eastern Land of Courtesy, neglecting my parents goes against my principles.
2. If I could restore my memories, I might find a way to achieve Metamorphosis.
3. It’s customary to give three reasons when listing them.
As I counted the reasons on my fingers, Pink-Haired Lesbian interrupted with a remark.
“The third one isn’t necessary.”
“Because aesthetics matter, right? But what about you? Why are you here?”
“My senior at work sent me. He was looking for someone who’s slightly off-balance, so I figured it’d be a troublesome job and denied it, saying I was way too normal to fit in with it. But…”
“But?”
“I fell for my senior’s honey trap.”
“…What?”
“She said I could touch her breasts.”
“Ah.”
What an understandable reason. I felt a surge of inner closeness after that conversation. I thought of a close friend from my previous life—a friend I could share all kinds of cultures with and chat about everything.
In this life, I had friends too, but… how should I put it? They were all girls, making it impossible for me to engage in deep conversations typically shared among men. The Tower Master was all girly, and even though Senior Scarface had gloomy, hard-boiled dreams, she was still undoubtedly a woman.
And to me, it seemed like the Pink-Haired Lesbian in front of me was a man, albeit one with some gender bug at birth. I cautiously broached the subject.
“By any chance…”
“Yes.”
“What do you think about panties?”
“They’re everything… I think?”
My heart raced.
“Could you tell me about the panties you’re wearing right now and your interpretation of them?”
“……..”
Pink-Haired Lesbian thoughtfully considered and then shared her answer.
“They’re white.”
“The reason?”
“Because they need to be visible through the black stockings.”
I shivered.
Immediately, Pink-Haired Lesbian and I bonded instantaneously, leading to a noble and even scholarly discussion about panties until we reached our destination. We shared our souls, nurturing a feeling of brotherhood.
I felt like I could maintain a close friendship with Pink-Haired Lesbian…
“Wouldn’t pink lingerie look good on the Tower Master?”
“What did you say, you bastard?”
I dove back into the fray to refute this absurd notion. I could not forgive myself for feeling a glimmer of friendship, even for a fleeting moment, with this Panty Ignoramus. How could she not understand the value of nothingness?
A fierce verbal duel ensued. The debate’s focal point? Was intangible swordsmanship real swordsmanship or not?
I could never forget the look on the coachman’s face when we disembarked. It was a bit of a dilemma—wondering whether to report this to the guards or not.
===============================================================
“Is this my homeland…?”
I thought that stepping onto my hometown’s soil would dredge up forgotten memories, cascading like a panorama. But as reality would have it, nothing came to mind.
The fence surrounding the village was made of wood, standing about chest-high. There seemed to be no facilities to ward off invasions from the outside.
The scenery revealed an ordinary rural village. Scattered houses, people digging for potatoes in the fields. Usually, a sufficiently large village boasts an Adventurer Guild, general stores, and all the usual fantasy-world amenities, but…
This rustic backwater village seemed to have crammed all those services into the Village Chief’s home.
Where could my house be? As I looked around, pondering if it still existed, Pink-Haired Lesbian adjusted her glasses and shot me a cautious look.
“This is strange.”
“…Strange how?”
“Look at the gazes.”
“Oh, indeed…”
The typical reactions that should ensue when outsiders entered a village were conspicuously absent. No wariness, curiosity, or anything at all.
The passersby simply glanced at us, then kept going.
Unless this village were a bustling trade hub— which it wasn’t— encountering the same familiar faces daily would be the norm. In such a case, outsiders would naturally stand out.
Moreover, we were a man in a Magic Tower robe and a woman clad in a finely tailored expensive suit. Compared to the village farmers wearing rough cloth, we seemed like beings from an entirely different world.
I could conjure a few hypotheses, but given that Pink-Haired Lesbian was an intelligence agent, her insight would likely hold more credibility. So, I asked.
“What do you think?”
“To be extreme, it could be a trap set by a Black Wizard.”
“Isn’t that a bit too far-fetched?”
“If you think more narrowly, it suggests outsiders have been frequently visiting lately. Thus, the group likely includes wizards as well.”
“That means…”
“Perhaps a goblin tribe has established itself nearby. The Adventurer Guild has likely posted requests to the village about it. That’s why outsiders have been coming here.”
It made sense. The most rational scenario conceivable would be something like this. Provided there weren’t any absurd plot twists or unnecessary turnarounds…
“If the protagonist team wants to gather information, the probability of heading to the village chief’s house is extremely high. The village hall would be the second option.”
“I agree. Considering the possibility of the outsiders having left, visiting the village chief’s house seems to be the most efficient choice.”
Even the butterfly seemed to agree, swirling about.
“My goal is to find my lost family register, but instead of wandering the village wondering, ‘Do you know me?’ it would be quicker to ask the Village Chief. Let’s head to the chief’s house.”
“Alright.”
===============================================================
“THAT’S! EXACT! LY! WHAT! I’M! SAYING! If you’ve received payment, shouldn’t you be taking action?!!”
“The commission we received was to ‘protect the village,’ not to ‘deal with a goblin tribe attack.’ Look! It’s clear that an arrogant academy student can’t read!”
“Is it fun tricking people into signing contracts when they can’t read?!”
“Once we verified and stamped it, it was over. Our mercenary group is following the contract! Why can’t you get this simple fact?!”
“There should be some decency-! You’ve taken over the village chief’s house for days, draining the food supply! How can this be ‘protecting the village’ that can freeze to death!!”
“All you do is yell. This is why women…”
It was a mess.
On the left, a girl wearing a bright red robe was shouting. By the color and pattern, she was a wizard from the Red Magic Tower.
On the right, five men who looked like they would sneak off with a chicken while delivering were chuckling. Their clothing and armaments suggested they were low-grade mercenaries.
Maintaining a positive mindset was crucial in life. Despite facing troubles, slightly tweaking one’s thinking could lead to a much more pleasant experience.
I came to investigate my hometown and stumbled upon a potential scam involving the village and mercenary group. (X)
I returned to my hometown, and session material just rolled in! Nice! (O)
Considering it this way, I felt my confidence surge and my spirits lift. Who am I? A walking lucky charm, everywhere I go I find material dropping at my feet! A guy favored by the Goddess of Dice! The one who’s had tea with an imperial princess and prince!
As I stood there, arms crossed, grinning, Pink-Haired Lesbian subtly said,
“If you want to calm this uproar, just say the word.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“I’ll knock one guy out, and usually, the noise dies down.”
“Your fighting style is off the charts, dude.”
“What?”
“No, I have a more peaceful and effective way.”
Wasn’t that what Illusion Magic was for? Normal fire and ice mages could only do so much in situations like this—throwing fireballs or ice spears, which were likely the extent of their capability. Those violent spells would inevitably involve collateral damage.
Even a throw meant for intimidation could break the floor or shatter a grand clock.
But with Illusion Magic, it could be dealt with simply, elegantly, and quietly…
“Sensory Reproduction: Overflow.”
“……..!”
“……..!!”
Both parties, who had been raising their voices, shivered and abruptly halted their quarrel. Without anyone giving the order, they started making their way outdoors.
Pink-Haired Lesbian observed this phenomenon with curiosity.
“What illusion did you show them?”
“I didn’t show them an illusion, merely evoked… a sensation.”
“What sort of sensation? Fear? Helplessness?”
“Well…”
Swish.
I spread my arms, blocking the Red Magic Tower wizard trying to escape the building. The wizard twisted and squirmed, anxiously crossing her legs.
Seeing this, it seemed Pink-Haired Lesbian realized the nature of the sensation I induced. The temperature of her stare dropped at least 10 degrees.
“What are you doing?! Move! I’m in a hurry!”
“The sensation you feel is merely an illusion, Red Tower Wizard.”
“No! Get out of my way, I’m in a rush…!!”
“I’m telling you, it’s just in your head. The urge you’re experiencing? Just an illusion. Let’s talk about what’s happening here. Who are those people?”
“Move! Aah… Ugh, um…”
Ah.
I recalled the major flaw of this spell. Since it was based on an imaginary urge, I assumed it would maintain control only until the sensation was felt, but…
Considering if there was already some liquid present, then, uh…
Hmm.
“I’ll erase the traces with Illusion Mag—”
“YOU SON OF A BITCH—!!”
WHACK—!
Stars exploded in my vision for a moment, and my jaw snapped sideways. The Red Tower Wizard certainly could throw a punch.
Pink-Haired Lesbian, who seemed to have the mindset of “He deserved that but I’m still his guard, so I won’t retaliate,” received my subtle signals to not counterattack. After all, that was a deserved hit.
I quietly reflected on my actions…
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