Chapter 42: George the Scumbag
Hearing George’s retort, Jima’s heart skipped a beat, and she almost confessed, trying to brush it off with a laugh. But then she remembered that in the dream, George couldn’t use his “lie detection ability.” So, she blinked, her eyes turned red, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she said,
“You scumbag who loves novelty!” While covering her face, she continued, “You’ve been with me three times; not only did you play me without feelings, but you also favored the new girl.”
George felt a pang of guilt, rubbing her head and saying, “I just felt something was off. I’m sorry.”
Jima secretly peeked through her fingers at Eve Frostleaf, only to find that there was a hint of embarrassment on her icy face.
Hehe, the little girl is still too naive to spar with me.
Jima thought, and couldn’t help but smile.
George sensed something was off, pulling Jima’s hand from her face, revealing her smirking face.
“Jima.”
“Oh dear, sorry you caught me.” Jima instantly lowered her hand, standing up with a neutral expression. Aside from her slightly red eyes, it was impossible to tell she had just been crying.
George stood up and asked, “What was that all about? It seemed like you two were arguing?”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that—”
“It’s nothing.”
Eve Frostleaf sheathed her sword. Even if she were to objectively recount what had just happened, it would make her uneasy. If it were to come out of the succubus’s mouth, she would definitely want to sink into the ground.
“It was just that the ice queen turned out to be a—just a little incident where she tightly gripped your waist.” Jima waved her hand, saying, “It’s no big deal. Come on, let’s go inside and discuss this. Hey, why is it so cold around here?”
Ignoring the icy aura coming from Eve Frostleaf, Jima snapped her fingers, and the dark clouds in the sky parted to reveal the sun, bathing everything in bright light.
The three of them rode the Nimbus Cloud into the palace. George wanted to tend to Eve Frostleaf’s wound, but Jima offered some medicine; however, Eve insisted on using her own potion.
Jima didn’t mind, making an excuse that she had to go take care of something, leaving the two in the room.
She headed straight to the kitchen, stir-frying a plate of pork stir-fry, sitting down at the dining table in the hall, eating the stir-fry while occasionally grabbing some war axe grilled beef to bite into.
With just a flick of the tip of her tail, it was evident that the bond between the two had deepened during the earlier fight; it was unavoidable.
But she couldn’t help but wonder how awkward it would be in the room, having inserted herself into the budding romance between a certain former hero and the long-legged elf.
She was really curious; who knew it might escalate to the point of slaps? After all, even in this multiverse where rules are more relaxed, her earlier green tea antics would surely disgust Eve Frostleaf—unless she had a masochistic streak.
Footsteps approached; it was clear it was George.
Jima turned to look at him but, unfortunately, didn’t spot any red handprints or footprints on his face.
George sat beside Jima, looking at her with guilt in his eyes, and took her hand, his voice trembling a little, “Jima…”
“Hey, what are you doing?” Jima was suddenly filled with goosebumps. “If you need confession or penance, please turn right out the door and find a priest.”
“I know I’ve hurt your feelings.” George glanced at the steaming stir-fry on the table and the war axe grilled beef leg.
He felt like Jima was the housewife who had discovered her husband’s infidelity, heartbroken yet wanting to maintain a complete family, so she made his favorite dish, sitting at the dining table, hoping her unfaithful husband would return to his senses.
George said, “Don’t blame Frostleaf; it was my initiative.”
“What?” Jima’s eyes widened. “Did it end so quickly?”
“End?”
“You, I remember you being quite enduring. Did you do it before? Impossible; when I was pulling Eve’s long legs, I took a peek at below.” Just thinking about how, in the span of cooking one dish, George could have unloaded onto Eve Frostleaf made Jima feel jealous.
Most likely, Frostleaf was the one who took the initiative. Have they already developed to such a stage? After all, she was supposed to be a member of my harem.
George finally realized what Jima was referring to. “No, you’re misunderstanding.”
“Then what does it mean to hurt my heart… Oh, I get it.”
From a certain perspective, George’s intuition was quite sharp. He just didn’t realize it wasn’t jealousy he was feeling. Jima found it amusing and said to George, “You’re overthinking it.”
“I might be overthinking, but I need to clarify things.”
“You are too rigid. This way, there’s less ambiguity.”
“I want your consent. You are my first woman.”
As soon as those words left his lips, a shiver ran through Jima’s spine, covered in goosebumps.
Heavens, my scalp is tingling.
Startled, Jima pulled her hand away as if her tail had been stepped on and said, “You are really too self-indulgent. You can pursue any woman you want; it’s none of my business.”
“You will be my first—”
“Lover.” Jima interrupted. “To put it bluntly, we’ve only had a few physical relationships.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Should we go outside the dream and discuss it again?” Jima looked at him teasingly. “Poor little hero.”
George looked earnestly into Jima’s blue eyes and asked, “Is it only desire?”
Jima surprisingly felt a twinge of sympathy. She turned her face slightly, desperately trying to convince herself.
Come on, you’ve become such a pitiful sight today; oh, you’re even worse off than a bird. Isn’t the one in front of you the main culprit, or at least one of them? Just think about how you lost thirty beauties in your harem and your strong, sturdy body; think about how much it hurt that day.
Jima turned back to meet George’s gaze and said, “There’s just a little bit of pure friendship and camaraderie added in. Stop looking at me like that; you’re making me sound like a manipulative scumbag.”
“I don’t believe it.” George said again, “Eve Frostleaf just told me you were jealous and had an argument with her.”
“That was just teasing that smug little elf; it’s fun.” Jima replied, “She’s too shy to admit she has feelings for you.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Honestly, people always believe what they want to believe, but with your symptoms.” Jima shook her head. “You’re hopeless.”
Suddenly, George leaned in closer, his masculine scent enveloping her. He wrapped his arm around Jima and whispered near her pointed ear, “I don’t believe it.”
Although George’s scent wasn’t particularly appealing—mingling with blood, the smell of steel, fresh earth, and sweat—underneath that aura, Jima began to feel a warmth spreading through her, or rather, boiling over, as she had already been heated.
Her tail perked up like a puppy’s, swaying back and forth, and with a thump, her stiff tail slapped the table.
This damn body is infuriating, causing me trouble.
Jima gasped, “What do you want to do?”
One large hand wandered down her spine, reaching the base of her tail.
“Answer me again.”
“You scumbag, you’re too bad; you don’t have the slightest semblance of a paladin.” Jima responded, giving him a kiss while wrapping her arms around his neck.
George tightened his embrace.
Even though Jima was the master of the dream palace, she didn’t know that at a corner leading to the hall, Eve Frostleaf was pressed against the wall, her long, pointed ears stiff and slightly trembling, taking in all the sounds around her.
It was as if she were frozen in place, unable to move her tightly closed legs.
