**Batter Two: Short, Christine. Jersey Number Six.**
Batter two, Christine. She swings an invisible bat that can stop hearts—a powerful hitter whose beauty could make even the goddesses flee…
As Christine releases my hand, she removes her armor, standing before me in nothing but her underwear. The pink bra and panties only seem to clash with Christine’s beauty.
“…Am I beautiful…?”
“Y-Yes… very…”
Christine is beautiful… so beautiful that the word itself seems insufficient. Her beauty captivates the hearts of onlookers, a beauty that is beyond comprehension and should never belong to just one person.
Now Christine stands before me in her underwear. This is a moment granted only to me in this country… no, in this continent, in this world.
But for me… Christine is too beautiful. She is flawless, perhaps even more perfect than that, to the point where a king might desire to trade his entire country for her.
However, I… as a man, my feelings for Christine do not come in first place. Such a perfect existence denies my identity as an ero-dress artist.
I believe that ero-dress constantly evolves and changes. There may be ultimate or supreme forms of ero-dress, but perfection does not exist within it. Each piece of clothing, the location and situation, accessories, and atmosphere—all of it combines to create ero-dress.
Perfect Christine embodies justice, and no matter what she wears, in any location or environment, none can rival her beauty. That simply won’t do for me as an ero-dress artist!
I’m an ero-dress artist. A flawless existence denies the essence of ero-dress. Since Christine is beautiful, she denies my existence.
I stripped away the beautiful underwear Christine revealed. No matter how lovely, every piece of lingerie pales in comparison to Christine.
Did I leave a white stain inside the beautiful Christine out of regret, or to affirm my existence? She accepted it.
“…It’s here.”
Dressed, Christine spoke, glancing toward the beach. I wanted to keep watching her change, but something had to be confirmed with my Mind’s Eye.
Arriving was Sophia on horseback. Strange? What’s the order of landing? I didn’t think I took so long—was it the two shots that delayed things?
“Time for a switch!”
Sophia hopped elegantly off her horse, her mantle fluttering in the wind, reminiscent of a celestial being. Her glowing laser pierced everything, and having witnessed the extent of the destruction firsthand, I knew its impact.
“Sophia!? Have you already finished moving the horse!?”
“It’s fine. Leave it to me.”
With no justification behind her assertion, Christine mounted her horse and left. My hands, poised to change clothes, were halted.
“Captain. So this is Nordland. I thought there’d be more monsters around.”
“Y-Yeah… Um… The monsters may have been conscripted for war… Uh…”
“Monsters have it tough too. Are there many in Lauenstein?”
“Y-There are probably quite a few…”
“Can we fight the Demon Lord? I feel a bit scared.”
Translating Sophia’s words, I think they were having a conversation of that nature. Stopped in my tracks, I noticed how she was saying “Captain” sounded like “tanhyou.”
Probably, the dialogue was coherent. Sophia didn’t let go of her partner until she was satisfied, and I released myself, feeling fulfilled as if we had a win-win relationship.
We linked arms, heading toward the landing point. Of course, Alana was soon to appear on horseback. I had an inkling of the order from when Sophia arrived, but Alana’s longing for a misguided adult romance was problematic.
To accommodate me, Alana wasn’t carrying her Zantou. Considering the dangerous Nordland, but the most dangerous group at present could only be the White Lily Corps.
“Adult romance!”
With her claws extended as if preparing for a duel, I couldn’t tell Alana, “That’s not what adult romance is.” There was no time to relax.
Alana split into two. Using her signature afterimages for a tricky attack. It would probably work against regular folks, but I could see through it with Godspeed.
To an outsider, it may have looked creepy—the image of my eyes darting about with divine speed. If I used this, I could see through at least the afterimages; however, Alana could produce four at most, but today she was only showing one… Am I being underestimated?
The distance between the real body and the afterimage opened up. At this distance, she could create two afterimages, but she didn’t. Suddenly, was she planning to summon another one and attack with three total, including her real body?
Or would she prioritize speed and attack with just her real body and one afterimage? Regardless, if I used Godspeed, I could uncover it. Anticipating another appearance, I braced myself in Mode Three.
I couldn’t see through it. The afterimage I thought would disappear didn’t, and it lunged at me from both sides. Just as I suspected, she planned to increase the number of afterimages suddenly and win with sheer volume! That trickster! I am the Speed King!
“Make it in time, Mode Four!” Yet the afterimage wouldn’t disappear. It seems she was going to up the count more than I expected! But there’s only one real Alana. I’m faster, grabbing her arm to pin her down. If she disappears, I’ll escape.
Focusing on Alana on the left, I predicted an increase in afterimages and captured her. This is the real body, and the afterimages will vanish! Victory confirmed and a sharp pain in my back! Why!?
Before I could turn around, I released the hand I grabbed and backed off. The two Alanas closed in to pounce. Too bad, Alana! With the stability of Mode Four and my Mind’s Eye!
I could see three seconds into the future. To resist the future of me being battered to bits, I dodged with all my might. Running away from the unyielding afterimages! They’re afterimages, right?! Why can’t I see them!?
Despite being afterimages, they executed coordinated plays. Attacks came from the direction I dodged, and if I slipped away from that, Alana’s sharp claws would follow up.
It seemed much like they predicted my dodges. Afterimages shouldn’t possess this capability—the real body is singular… or isn’t it!?
“Alana! What the hell is that!? Are there two of you!?”
“Huh? Didn’t I say? It’s a clone!”
Since when did you become a ninja!? Clones share the same physical existence. Even observed with Godspeed, they can’t vanish. They are genuinely there.
“…Is it… magic?”
“I can’t use magic. It’s hard work.”
If you can create clones with hard work, I should’ve mastered breathing while swimming! When practicing, I was told I would drown… Still, having two Alanas is troublesome. One is cute enough, but two of them? For now, maybe I should take them down by force.
“Can your father and mother make clones too?”
“Dad can produce one, just like me. But Mom can make three!”
Both are farmers, I guess the ability to clone is necessary for labor? At least, they shouldn’t be war-makers; let’s hope.
Alana must have inherited her father’s limitation of making just one clone, while if taking after her mother, I’d have no chance. I need to take her down while there’s still time; otherwise, it’ll grow stronger.
For Priscilla, Christine, and Sophia, saying “I’m sorry” would work, but it wouldn’t work on the other three; they’d only get more emboldened. I’ll teach them who’s in charge!
“Alana, you’re incredible. Let’s make sure to tell each other next time!”
“Got it!”
After exchanging words, we quietly adjusted our distance. Alana began detaching into two individuals as I extended my Tentacle Prost.
Godspeed, Mode Three whip!
Extending my left Tentacle Prost, I swung it like a whip, as though conditioning a beast. The whip sliced through the air, roaring as it danced; if it hit, flesh would explode.
But it didn’t hit! Alana, small and fast, dedicated herself to evading me, making it seem like I was equally matched in Mode Three. One of the two Alanas avoided my whip from the front while the other, slowly but surely, began to circle behind.
Good strategy. The one facing me would take the brunt of the whip, becoming harder to deal with, while the one behind would have an easier approach. With ease, she could close in for an attack.
Mode Four! The speed of my whip intensified. The sound of the air exploding grew louder, inducing terror. If there was a ring of fire, it could become a circus act. I wonder if one could leap through the ring and approach me?
The whip’s elasticity had gotten so close to the front Alana. Frustrated by evading, I saw both Alanas leap in for a simultaneous strike.
Calmly unraveling my fingers, I faced the front Alana, spreading my fingers wide as I swung down my Tentacle Whip. Perhaps accepting fate, the Alana I faced must have resolved to stop and crossed her arms defensively.
With a slap… that’s how it must feel to touch Alana. Initially, stretching out the Tentacle Prost like a whip lacked strength.
Even gathering my five fingers together wouldn’t change that. I simply wanted a sound that seemed painful. Truthfully, I was anxious about how long the Tentacle Prost would hold up while used as a whip.
I released my Tentacle Prost and generated it again with my fingertips. Battling two Alanas, each at about Mode Three, would be unfavorable for me. What I truly wanted was a one-on-one with Alana.
Turning around, I faced the Alana behind me. With one aligned roughly to Mode Three and my true Godspeed in Mode Six, if I fight with all my strength, she wouldn’t be unbeatable.
In a close-quarters clash, Alana was stripped of her garments and had her armor removed by my overwhelming speed, finding herself lovingly caressed by my Tentacle Prost, while the Alana receiving the whip realized she hadn’t incurred any injuries. By the time she did, she had turned into a quivering heap.
“Oh! That’s unfair!”
There’s no such thing as unfair in battle! It’s about winning, Alana! I could make her, drooling and wetting herself, share the same experience as this Alana in a state of collapse.
Alana fought and lost. No matter how proficiently she clones, she cannot surpass my Godspeed. I imparted the true meaning of adult romance upon the two weakened Alanas, one from behind and the other lifted into my arms.
As we embraced, Alana and I left behind a trail of claw marks.
With both Alanas in hand, as we neared the landing point, Orietta approached on horseback. This time, I showed no surprise.
“Did you have an S&M session? I wish I could have joined!”
This isn’t about the aftermath of adult romance—it’s not about “pain feels good.” It’s really painful! I’m bleeding! Flesh has been scraped!
“It’s a shame it’s over. Now, shall we head home?”
Taking my arm, she said, “Let’s do it!” looking at me with pity as she dragged me away. And yet, she rode off on her horse without a moment’s hesitation!
“Which will it be?”
When Orietta says “which,” she’s giving me a choice: to be S or M. Naturally, I choose S. Choosing M against Orietta would either give me trauma or push me further down that path.
“Um, S…”
“Good luck!”
Orietta handed me a sturdy vine she had brought from somewhere. As I held it, the pain forced my hand to loosen. Did I say S and end up with M instead?
“This… has thorns, though…”
“Yep! I asked Rufina to get me thorny vines!”
Am I supposed to bind her with this!? That’s cheating! No way! I’ll bleed out; holes will be made in my body! This is the vine I’m supposed to use to restrain Orietta!?
“No way, no way, no way! I’ll end up seriously hurt!”
“Oh~. There’s nothing else~.”
With bloodied hands, I removed the thorns.
