Chapter 27: The Fragrance
“Sorry!”
In the blink of an eye, George dragged the black-dressed woman sprawled on the floor out, slamming the door behind him.
The entire room was left with only Jima. Outside, voices from the two could be heard.
Jima just came back to her senses from her daze, her mind a tangled mess.
I actually screamed like a woman just now, wearing vulgar clothes meant to please men, exposed completely to a dead virgin.
Jima’s already shattered masculine dignity was trampled again, reduced to dust.
In the mirror, Jima’s little face was flushed, her neck tinted with a layer of pink, her expression one of shame and anger.
She looked just like a little girl caught off guard by her beloved, but I just want to tear him to pieces.
Jima thought this, glaring fiercely at the little succubus in the mirror. She tried hard to show a terrifying expression.
Unfortunately, no matter how she looked, she appeared adorable, like she was acting cute.
For the first time, she felt an impulse to cover her face, raising her trembling hands to hide her warm cheeks. Her back molars rubbed against each other, producing a harsh grinding sound, whispering, “Brave one, die!”
This humiliation of today, she would remember, a gentleman’s revenge is never too late. Of course, mainly because she could only take revenge after ten years; otherwise, she would be a petty person, after all, petty people seek revenge from dawn till dusk.
Enraged and humiliated, Jima fiercely cursed George and anyone associated with him in her heart, feeling a bit better afterwards.
Jima said to herself, “At least, my determination for revenge is stronger now, I must kill him.”
After saying this, she sniffed the air.
How fragrant! The peach blossom scent was overflowing, more appetizing than before, and not pungent at all.
Saliva instantly filled her mouth, and Jima had to swallow. She began to indulge in it.
It was very thick, with a strong fragrance. It felt like she had bitten into a soft peach, with sweet juice overflowing between her teeth.
Her mood improved significantly, and after the last trace of desire settled in her stomach, she caressed her flat belly, muttering:
“Tsk, tsk, didn’t expect that dead virgin to have such low tastes, just seeing a little loli in revealing clothing he reacts, tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Should I just buy this outfit? Wear it every night, jump in front of George and wiggle a bit.
Jima’s face began to heat up again. She looked at herself in the mirror, like a little lamb, all white and fluffy.
No, there would be aesthetic fatigue, just like how I was amazed by Miss 2B in my previous life; at first sight, it was stunning, but later became monotonous. Moreover, I’m not even sure if what aroused him was my nakedness or just the accidental exposure earlier, or perhaps it was a combination of both.
I am just seeking revenge from a more rational perspective, not because I feel too ashamed…
Jima convinced herself and immediately put on her clothes, selecting a longer dress and black stockings. Of course, this time she seriously wore her underwear.
Looking at the sleeveless dress-clad little succubus in the mirror, Jima tied a silk cloth around her smooth arms, then put on a hat. She looked much more decent; the longer skirt only exposed her calves, allowing her tail to comfortably wrap around her thighs.
She nodded.
“This is better; it matches the aesthetic of the artistic youth George. Plus, it helps create contrast. A lewd woman exposing her thighs versus a cold, abstinent beauty exposing her thighs— the impact is not on the same level.”
Half an hour later.
George spent forty gold coins to buy Jima four sets of outfits, including matching lingerie.
“I know a few of the most famous tailors in Salin City, these clothes are still slightly ill-fitting; it would be a pity if your girl didn’t wear custom-made clothes, would you consider it?” said the woman in the black dress.
After the woman in the black dress learned that Jima was a succubus, her enthusiasm increased. In her eyes, George must be a remarkable figure with an impressive background; otherwise, he couldn’t possibly have a succubus as a “servant.”
“Not for now.”
George just wanted to quickly take the silent Jima away.
“Welcome.”
The woman in the black dress bowed warmly to see them off, but Jima felt it resembled a funeral send-off.
Once outside, there was some calm on the way. Jima faced George, gazing at the “specialty industry street of Salin City” around the distant corner, only wanting to see the lively and charming ladies again soon.
If given the chance, she really wanted to reminisce about the close bathing services with her sister flowers.
George looked at Jima’s profile, deeply feeling that his reckless behavior had left a shadow on her pure heart; she didn’t even dare to look at herself.
After all, she was still just a little girl over a week old.
“Jima.” George called softly.
“Uh?” Jima didn’t turn around, continuing to immerse herself in the memories of bright, glittering moments.
“I’m sorry, I was reckless, I hope you can…” George didn’t know how to continue, “I… I will find a way to make amends.”
Jima turned her head and looked at George’s face full of guilt. She almost thought that George had just exploded in excitement.
“Actually, it’s nothing.”
George let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”
“However, I…” At this moment, Jima’s face showed a hesitant expression.
“What? You can say whatever you want.”
“Never mind, I’m not too sure either.” Jima, seeing that she piqued George’s curiosity, changed her mind and said, “A Bartok knight adventuring around is quite normal. But as for the Adventurer’s Guild, I feel it may not necessarily suit you.”
It definitely doesn’t suit him. Jima had experienced the services of the Adventurer’s Guild while still the Demon Lord and was quite disappointed.
First of all, the Adventurer’s Guild was not a unified organization. It was organized by local adventurers and was essentially similar to the cobblers’ or blacksmiths’ guilds.
There was no unified mission rating system. Good missions were first handed to familiar people, not newcomers. From some perspectives, the Adventurer’s Guild was more like a social interaction organization.
“Then,” George said, “I should check it out tomorrow.”
“Haven’t you tried it before?”
“I usually have someone introduce me.” George replied, “If that doesn’t work, I’ll look at the bulletin board.”
The next day, and the third day.
Jima, carrying her sword and running around with George for two days, didn’t make much progress.
The first time, the Adventurer’s Guild required George to pay a five gold coin membership fee, promising to provide beginner tasks. The so-called beginner task was to go into a hotel’s wine cellar to clear out big rats.
After some negotiation, the receptionist believed George was a battle-hardened knight and promised that if he paid ten gold coins, he would be introduced to a commission for capturing slaves. Out of a sense of justice, George refused and had to turn around and leave.
After a struggle, George found a request on the bulletin board for clearing dog-headed people from the underground sewer.
Jima finally got a rare opportunity to be alone. She used the excuse of “the sewer is too dirty; I would only be a burden,” and promised that she wouldn’t sneak out to play while she stayed at the inn to take care of George’s warhorse.
She patiently waited until George left for an hour. Then she donned her hooded cloak, preparing to sneak out of the inn.
