Chapter 9: Breaking the Pot
Jima tried to struggle a bit: “The inherited memories don’t just give me lots of knowledge about bed skills in my head.”
But George didn’t take the bait: “So, when you were pretending to be the Black Devil, was the image you presented to us from those inherited memories?”
“That’s a long story…” Jima’s golden eyes rolled around.
What to do? What to do? It seems there really isn’t any way out. In novels, something crucial usually happens to interrupt the questioning right before a character spills a big secret.
So, when will the Beastmen attack? If there are no Beastmen, even a meteor shower would do.
But outside, it was very quiet, and Jima’s forehead was unknowingly beaded with sweat.
“Why aren’t you speaking?” George said, “Yes or no.”
“No.”
The tent was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, and Jima calmly stared at the man and woman in front of her.
George felt that Jima had become much stranger; her origins had suddenly become mysterious.
“My long-standing question has been answered,” George said slowly, “In battle, you maneuver effortlessly, skillfully using various extraordinary abilities, with a good psychological quality, and can think of various ways to break the deadlock in difficult situations. To explain this purely by combat talent is too far-fetched. So, what exactly is your past?”
Jima’s voice was very cold: “George, why should I tell you?”
George was momentarily taken aback.
“Do you really think of yourself as my master?” She mocked with a smile, “After all, this is my personal privacy. Why should I tell you?”
“I’m very curious and also suspect that your past is quite….”
Eve Frostleaf interjected, “Evil, like that which destroys teams.”
George said, “It’s hard for me to believe you.”
“Then don’t believe me. Whether you believe me or not has nothing to do with me; I’m not begging to be in your team.” Jima suddenly stood up, “I’m now a free person. If you have the ability, just cut off my head, great hero.”
“Didn’t you say you hoped to be by my side?”
“Ah? Did I say that? If I did, I really apologize; the enthusiasm of us succubi always comes quickly and goes quickly.” Jima walked toward the tent door, “Goodbye, you two.”
George suddenly realized that Jima actually had no necessary reason to stay by his side. Even if her past was shrouded in mystery, what reason did he have to arrest her?
Jima could leave at any time, leave forever, brutally dismissing all that the two had experienced as if it had never happened, casting it behind her like trash, while George, however, could not let go, leading to a feeling of anxiety in his chest.
“Why are you grabbing my tail?” Jima turned her head, raising her eyebrows and asking, “Lord George, do you want to cling on stubbornly?”
George then realized that he had unconsciously grabbed Jima’s tail; he let go and asked, “Why do this?”
“I want to ask, why do this?” Jima replied, “Is deduction really that fun?”
After saying this, Jima reached for the tent door. George opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of any reason to keep her. He was anxious, but he had no way to lie.
Eve Frostleaf quietly sighed, pulled out the long sword from behind her waist, and with a swish, the silver blade was held against Jima’s chest, blocking her way out.
The elf said, “The matter of insulting Her Majesty the Queen has not been settled yet.”
“Uh… I think Her Majesty is magnanimous.”
The silver sword rose, the cold blade pressed against her neck: “Sit back down.”
Jima had no choice but to sit back down, muttering in her heart: This long-legged elf is playing out of the ordinary; she should be jealous of my relationship with George and should let this “rival in love” go.
The atmosphere became somewhat awkward.
George said, “I just hope that one day you will tell me about your past.”
“Hmm.” That might have to wait until the end of the world.
“Frostleaf.” George turned to the elf and said, “Since the Black Devil is Jima, it means she has the ability to track the whereabouts of the Demon King’s extraordinary materials. I hope you can be lenient with her.”
Eve Frostleaf coldly said, “Have you thought of a reason to bring her along?”
“This is within regulations, but it also depends on whether you agree.”
“Forget it.” Eve Frostleaf said, “These past few months, watching you humans wandering around the wilderness like a bunch of headless flies, truly low… I’ll make a great mercy and step back.”
“Thank you.”
Jima unexpectedly interjected, “Actually, you want to stay outside a bit longer, right?”
Eve Frostleaf turned her head, her gaze like a knife, immediately aimed at Jima.
George asked, “Can you divine the whereabouts of the Demon King’s extraordinary materials?”
“I can.” Jima asserted, and when she saw expectation surface in George’s azure eyes, she immediately added, “But….”
George reminded, “Right now, you’re considered to be redeeming yourself for your crimes.”
“Do you know about the battle of wits?” Jima said, “I have divined before, and the opponent realized it, and cast a dark magic curse on me. Of course, I’m not without preparation; I made thorough preparations beforehand.”
“Did anything happen to you later?”
“Of course not, who am I?” Jima said, “After the battle of wits, I was promptly sent to Jenna for treatment. So, I need to reach platinum rank to qualify for fighting from a distance with the opponent, at least so I won’t hurt myself while divining.”
George said, “That request is excessive; you’ve only recently reached gold. By the time you reach platinum, the task will have already failed.”
“I’m a talent beyond compare.” Jima boasted, “As long as I can find a way to separate the extraordinary materials of the green dragon, make a potion from them, and drink it, I can level up.”
“Jima, this isn’t a joke.”
“Hey, I understand you.” Jima patted George’s shoulder, laughing, “Originally, you were at diamond rank, and after so long, you still haven’t recovered to your former strength. You see that you’re about to be surpassed by this genius, and you can’t take it for a moment. There’s a saying, isn’t it? There’s always a genius who is more genius than a genius. Relax, adjust your mindset, or you might find yourself stuck at platinum for your entire life.”
George’s eye twitched, and he said, “I’m just worried that you’ll recklessly try to advance too quickly.”
“I’m really ready now.” Jima said, “It’s just that I need some help, help to separate the extraordinary materials of the green dragon.”
“What kind of help specifically?”
“I haven’t thought it through yet.” Jima said, “Don’t look at me like that. My knowledge is limited; I can only roughly understand that I need some rather violent extraordinary materials as a catalyst. Anyway, within your capabilities, it’s not that hard; it would be easy.”
Eve Frostleaf asked, “Is that the truth?”
“The truth.”
Eve Frostleaf said, “I always feel that things aren’t as simple as the succubus says; it will be very tricky.”
“The trickier it is, the more time it will take.” Jima said, “Doesn’t that make you happier?”
Eve Frostleaf glared at Jima again.
Hmph, trying to compete with me, the aloof beauty?
Jima didn’t care about the icy beauty’s gaze; rather, she enjoyed it, relishing the joy of teasing.
“Alright, I agree.” George said, “We will assist you in advancing to platinum, and you will help us find the Demon King’s extraordinary materials.”
“Deal.” Jima immediately agreed.
Now, the only strong helper available is this scoundrel in front of me. Ah, it would be better if his brain were as dull as Jenna’s. But fortunately, the general direction of things is still in line with my plan.
Before Jima came, she had already prepared for a big crash.
A big crash doesn’t matter; George, being reasonable and lawful, wouldn’t easily take a life. At most, only his own rear end would suffer. The most important thing is that George really needs my divination; I hold significant value for his team.
Things are going smoothly after all; at least my rear end hasn’t suffered.
Jima changed her sitting position, crossing her legs.
“But you need to sign a bit of a contract.”
“No problem—wait, why are there so many? You call this a bit?”
“Your suspicion is too great.”
“Considering we’ve at least worked together three times—”
Hearing this, Eve Frostleaf’s face turned cold.
“No way.”
“Scoundrel!” Jima buried her head, signing her name and making a seal on one sheet after another.
After finishing the last contract, Jima shook her slightly sore wrist and said, “Alright, George. We’re fighting again.”
“I’m very happy.”
“I’m happy too.”
Eve Frostleaf, without saying a word, stood up directly and was about to leave.
Jima raised her head and looked at George with interest, saying, “By the way, do you want to hear about that human society? The real world birthed from the steel city submerged in a swarm of insects. It really existed.”
George said, “I would love to hear it.”
Eve Frostleaf silently sat back down, her head turning to the other side, but her long ears stood up straight.
“That society existed in a world inhabited only by humans, without chaotic extraordinary capabilities or magic, yet humans were able to invent technologies that rival magic.” Jima said, “Iron birds made of steel carried humans from one continent to another in less than half a day. The steel city was filled with tens of millions of inhabitants, yet few went hungry; the vast majority had food to eat and clothes to wear. In front of the most prosperous cities of humans, even the capital of high elves seems but a county town.”
Eve Frostleaf let out a cold snort.
“Where does the food come from?”
“They researched crops and created substances that allowed for high yields; they diverted rivers to irrigate the fields. They…”
Jima continued to talk on and on, while George was so engrossed that he couldn’t help leaning forward, frequently asking questions, and Jima answered one by one, her tail proudly flicking up again and again, exuding a sense of superiority as if showing off to primitive tribes.
“So, what is the power source for the iron carts that carry materials?” George asked, “How are the laws established? How do they manage such a large population?”
George’s azure eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Jima teased him, resting her chin on her hand and saying, “I don’t want to say anymore; you can guess slowly.”
“Can you tell me tomorrow?”
“No, I have no plans to ever tell you.”
“Ah?”
“Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you call me Mom.” Jima said, “Make it loud and clear; echo it out—hey, hey, hey, what are you doing? If you don’t want to call me Mom, calling me Dad is also fine.”
George grabbed Jima by the nape as if lifting a chick and said, “I almost forgot to settle a score with you. Your impersonation of the Black Devil almost fooled me.”
“You’re just making excuses.”
George set Jima down, lifted his cloak, exposing his backside.
Jima immediately laughed apologetically: “Uh… let’s discuss this properly, let’s discuss properly.”
Eve Frostleaf, seeing that the two quickly reconciled, was somewhat jealous. She stood up and walked out of the tent door, and a loud sound came from behind.
“Slap!”
If it were me…
Eve Frostleaf’s ears suddenly turned red, and she quickly quickened her pace, walking far away.
