Chapter 17 Unnamed
George summoned his mount in a secluded spot. A warhorse completely white, with its saddle already changed. The horse’s shoulder was even a bit higher than Jima’s. She needed George’s help to mount its back.
At a fork in the road, a blurred sign misled them. After bouncing on the horse’s back for quite a while, they learned from a passerby that they were on the wrong path and had to return the way they came.
By the time their horses’ hooves hit the cobblestone streets of the small town, it was already late afternoon.
They arrived at the only two taverns in the town. The tavern was a two-story stone building with a red roof, surrounded by stone walls.
Pushing open the creaky wooden door, a strange mix of smells hit them—vomit, leather, and mildew, leaving a strong impression.
The wooden floor beneath them had several parts that had warped up. Adventurers gathered around a wooden table eating bread and turnip soup, with soup dripping from their mouths onto the mottled wooden table; their clothes and armor were covered in dust and stains.
Jima felt a burst of itchiness on her skin, held her breath, and resisted the urge to turn and leave.
She began to miss her Demon Lord’s hall, with its marble floor that was spotless. Everything was clean; even if she rolled on the floor with her maid for half an hour, the white silk on the maid’s long legs would remain dust-free.
George walked straight to the bar. The plump, aging woman behind the bar lifted her head, her gaze scanning the two before her face lit up with her best professional smile.
“Sir, do you need a room or a meal?”
George remained silent, playing the role of a mute.
“Give us your best room. Also, where’s the stable boy? My master’s warhorse needs care and the best feed.”
“That lazy brat is slacking off again; I’ll kick him out of bed soon,” the plump woman winked at Jima. “We have the best room on the second floor; it has a bathtub and a carpet. It’s five silver coins for one night. Couples from the city love to stay there.”
George shook his head and held up two fingers.
“Do you want two rooms?” the plump woman asked.
“No, my master means this room is too cheap to call it the best; we need to pay double the price for double the service. The floor must be spotless, and the walls should be free of dirt,” Jima immediately made up some nonsense.
George glanced at Jima with a sidelong look, while Jima pretended not to notice.
The plump woman suddenly laughed ambiguously, as if she were encountering a first love. “Would you like anything else to eat?”
With George’s gestures, they ordered onion gravy, a piece of roast meat, two slices of fresh bread, honey bread, and a herb-roasted chicken for dinner. The total cost came to one gold and six silver.
The plump woman took the gold coin and happily turned to leave. Before long, a sound of someone being kicked out of bed echoed from within.
After finishing their dinner, the plump woman brought over a glass of fresh milk, smiling as she handed it to Jima and winked at her.
“Good girl, drink more milk and grow taller. By the way, I have a bottle of white sand wine that I haven’t dared to drink. Just a small cup, and your cheeks will be rosy. It’s two gold coins; would you like some?”
George waved his hand to refuse hurriedly.
The plump woman retained her smile and continued her bold sales pitch. “Outsiders probably haven’t heard of White Sand Winery. Its wine doesn’t cause hangovers; it’s perfect for those wanting a bit of romance… Hee hee, reservations are booked into next year.”
George waved his hand more vigorously.
“In my master’s hometown, waving your hand means agreement.”
Just as the hungry Jima finished saying this, she felt a pain on her head. Looking up, it was George’s hand. Through the small hole in her helmet, she understood the look in George’s eyes. It was a look filled with the intent of assigning “homework.”
She quickly corrected herself: “But when in Rome, do as the Romans do; this gesture means refusal, thank you for the kind offer.”
The plump woman chuckled softly as she led the two upstairs to their room.
Upon opening the door, they were greeted by a clean room. The wooden floor was spotless, and the mold stains had been carefully scraped off.
Jima’s skin no longer itched; she felt a sense of relief, as if escaping from a cesspool.
“Have fun,” the plump woman wished as she closed the door.
Jima happily left footprints on the clean floor, lifted her tail, and sat down on the newly changed sheets. In the room, there was only a large bed.
“Jima!” George removed his helmet, revealing a slightly pale face. “My silence doesn’t mean you can spout nonsense. You’re still young; why do you have those thoughts concerning… such matters between men and women?”
Jima looked up, blinking her clear eyes innocently. “I just wanted a nicer place; it was too dirty.”
“Don’t change the subject. Has your inherited memory corrupted you?”
“What did it corrupt me about?”
“About the romantic and carnal matters between men and women.”
Jima continued to look at him wide-eyed, shaking her head. “It hasn’t corrupted me.” I was already bad; I’m a virgin.
“Then you…”
“I’m just curious what wine tastes like.” I’m indeed curious about the two-coin cheap wine.
Everything Jima said was the truth. George’s expression softened a bit as he replied, “You need to be careful in the future, don’t ruin your reputation.”
Talking about reputation with a succubus is like discussing purity with an old prostitute. Yet George spoke sincerely, with a serious attitude.
Jima nodded, pretending to be taught a lesson, while inwardly mocking.
Tsk, tsk, don’t think just because you’re a virgin that I don’t understand. Actually, you’re quite pleased, right? A little beauty is throwing herself at you, hinting at something. It’s just that you’re not used to it; on the surface, you scold me a little to satisfy your moral itch, but deep down, you feel even better.
Jima believed George must have had a reaction. She planned to seize the moment; even though it was quite embarrassing, it was nothing compared to becoming stronger.
Complaining, she said, “This clothing is so hot and stuffy.” At the same time, she shed the hooded robe she was wearing, revealing her horns, wings, and tail. Jima wore a tank top and a pair of shorts, her white tail swaying left and right.
She happily tossed her clothes onto the big bed, stretched, and extended her wings. She then pulled her feet out of her leather boots, took off her socks, revealing her pale little feet, and lay sideways on the bed, playfully rolling around while making “woo woo” sounds.
She looked just like a playful and crazy girl.
Indeed, Jima was selling herself, er, no, she was moving forward with the burden of becoming stronger.
The last time she had sold herself so blatantly; if she were to go any further, George would eventually catch on.
Winking, exposing forbidden areas, excessively revealing skin was too direct, too crude, and didn’t fit her character.
Jima believed that true allure lies in being natural and fitting her character. It must be reasonable and not abrupt.
For a “virtuous” succubus loli, shedding her hot clothing and rolling on a clean bed, doesn’t that show how lively she is?
As for her tail wrapped around her calves, her pale little feet, and the bed, only those who think crookedly are the real scoundrels.
Her liveliness naturally attracted George’s gaze.
Heh, let me see how much of a hypocrite you are. On the surface, you speak with righteousness, but how much desire do you really hold in secret?
Jima rolled closer to George on the bed; their eyes met. George’s eyes were calm and deep, while Jima’s little nose sniffed the air, catching only a faint whiff of peach blossoms. That tiny hint of desire was just like a spicy strip to a hungry stomach.
George said, “Remember to memorize thirty-five pages today.”
Jima’s smiling face instantly fell.
Selling herself was a huge failure.
“Oh.”
Jima angrily got off the bed and retrieved the religious manuscript from her backpack, plopping down at the desk, but carelessly sat on her own tail, causing her to wince in pain.
Bad luck just kept piling up.
Gritting her teeth, she adjusted her tail, opened the book, and shot a murderous glare at the words on the page.
It seemed George noticed nothing amiss with her emotions, busying himself behind her with something.
Jima forced herself to read a story from the book, her fingers tightly gripping the cover as she held back the urge to throw it into the fireplace.
What a load of nonsense!
Why should the protagonist give money to help the poor when he himself is a broke loser? After helping until he had to sell his sword, he’s clearly an old soldier with skills. Doesn’t he know to go out and rob for money? Even the author couldn’t stand it and forced him to dig up a jar of gold coins, creating an abrupt happy ending.
Jima’s little legs fidgeted back and forth anxiously.
Just thinking about having to copy several pages of this ridiculous story only added to her frustration. At that moment, her stomach churned audibly, growling.
“Jima, are you hungry?”
Thanks to you and your virginity.
“No, I’m very full.”
“No, you’re not. If there’s anything you need to say, you don’t have to worry at all.”
His words were full of persuasion. But Jima would rather die than tell him she needed George’s desire.
Heh, with your brainwashed mind from religion, once you know the truth, you’d never have any thoughts of desire towards me. Out of a sense of responsibility, you’d provide “heather flower flavored liquid.” Even if this Demon Lord fell so low, I’d never consume your “heather flower flavored liquid!”
“Good brother, I really don’t want to say.”
George didn’t press the issue further but flipped through the book titled “Twenty-One Days to Mastering Parenting: How to Educate Your Children.”
He tried to find the reasons behind Jima’s unhappiness from the book.
Meanwhile, under the agony of hunger, Jima grew increasingly restless. She thought that without desire, she couldn’t unleash her extraordinary powers, couldn’t meet the needs of leveling up to become stronger, and would forever be bullied by George.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
That virgin is made of stone. I sell myself so well; I’m a succubus after all. Yet this fine young man can’t even get hard. Truly a pity for a virgin; he must be a sad youth who can’t get it up.
Not only is he a failure himself, but he’s also dragging me down from becoming stronger. It’s absolutely unforgivable, a grave sin, a crime that deserves a thousand deaths. Once I get my revenge, I’ll definitely make someone drain him dry, squeeze every last drop out.
I can’t earn the desire of that virgin, yet I can’t attract other men?
No longer able to sit still, she closed the book, jumped off her chair, grabbed her hooded robe, and headed toward the door.
“Jima.”
“What is it?” Jima immediately halted in her tracks.
“Just as you’re going out, could you find out how to get to Shalin City?”
Jima grew even more annoyed. “Alright, Master!”
Saying this, she forcefully slammed the door shut.
“How strange; Jima seems very agitated today.”
George muttered to himself as he flipped through the book, his eyes lighting up as he found a keyword and immediately read on.
The page read: When children are called away from play to do chores, pray, eat peas, or other things they dislike, they often become irritable. If a child is very irritable, unreasonable, and refuses to communicate, the following techniques are very effective.
For boys, remove their pants and spank their bottoms to make them obedient.
For girls, it’s quite likely due to their periods. If not, a spank on the backside will also make them obedient.
George nodded thoughtfully.
