Chapter 14: George the Free-range
“Mom?”
Little George turned his head, his vacant eyes wide as they looked at Jima.
“Yes, yes, yes, I am your mother.”
Jima shamelessly took advantage of an old enemy, her tail starting to tense and stand upright.
“Mom.”
Little George rushed towards Jima.
“Good boy.” Jima smiled brightly as she approached him.
Just as little George was about to run into her arms, filled with filial affection.
“Thud!”
Jima’s crown bone shook; she quickly covered her aching head and crouched down, “It hurts!”
George, who had already turned back into an adult, towering over Jima, put down his hand and looked at her helplessly, saying, “Jima, you are always so naughty.”
Indeed, the dreams of a powerful transcendent being are not so easy to manipulate.
“Since you know I’m just being naughty, why use violent means against me? Scumbag.” Jima rubbed her scalp, “That was really hard… By the way, who would have thought that the mighty hero George’s dream would be this?”
“Who doesn’t have parents?” George said, “Can you help me out?”
“Depends on my mood.”
“I’ve had this dream many times,” George said, “Let’s assume it’s not you causing it, but I need to ask you during the day.”
“Why are you blaming me again? This is unvarnished discrimination; I must protest.”
“…I have always been unable to chase the figure of my mother.” George said, “Can you let me see my mother’s face?”
“Have you ever seen your mom?” Jima asked, “If you yourself haven’t seen her, I can’t just conjure a mom for you out of thin air.”
“No, but I might have seen her.”
“What does ‘might’ mean?”
“Maybe, perhaps… when I was a child, while I was sleeping soundly, my inconveniently absent mother would quietly come to my bedroom at night and gently caress my sleeping face.”
“How long has this symptom persisted?”
“Aunt Susie told me.” George said, “I know it sounds like a story for children, but… maybe?”
“That’s so touching.” Jima stifled a laugh, “Just so happens I’m not in a good mood today…”
George’s eyelids drooped: “What a pity.”
“But if you offer something in exchange, I might be quite happy.” Jima extended her right hand, mimicking the motion of rubbing her thumb and index finger together, “Like this…”
“Are you asking for gold coins?” George said, “I don’t have many left; I only have a little over seven hundred gold coins. How much do you want?”
“You’re still a platinum; why are you so poor?” Jima said, “Forget it; I’ll generously help you this once because you look pitiful.”
“Thank you.”
As the blood-red sunlight of evening fell on Jima’s profile, she wore a wicked smile, raised both hands, and recited a bizarre spell: “Pineapple pineapple honey! Dream reappear!”
The figure of a woman, who had originally disappeared deep in the woods, reappeared at the end of the dirt road. She was a slender woman wearing plain brown clothes, with a hood tightly covering her head, making her hair color invisible from behind.
George could no longer hold back and stepped forward towards the woman’s silhouette.
But the woman’s figure began to fade and swiftly flew away into the distance.
“George, stop.” Jima said sternly, “Though I don’t know why, it seems I must use my big move.”
George halted, watching Jima with hope.
Jima, channeling her inner dramatist, squatted in a horse stance, took a deep breath, puffed out her chest, slowly pushed her palms forward, then abruptly pulled them back and shouted, “Stop!”
The woman suddenly halted.
Jima exerted force with her hands as if engaged in tug-of-war, shouting, “Turn back!”
The woman’s head gradually turned back but suddenly got stuck.
Jima’s temples bulged with veins as she strained to pull the invisible rope back.
“Can I help?” George asked.
Jima replied with difficulty, “No… you can’t.”
“Jima, I want to express my apologies.” George said, “I thought this was a simple matter for you. I owe you a favor.”
“Good you realize… whoa!”
The woman tilted her body and turned her head; George quickly focused his gaze.
Finally, the mysterious face in the dream was revealed—her face was almost identical to Jima’s, except for her bright black eyes.
Jima’s eyes widened in shock, saying:
“How can she look so much like me?… I understand! Could it be that she is also my mother, a succubus?! Everything makes sense now; George, you are half succubus. No wonder beautiful girls are always around you. Aunt Susie was right; your mother did come to see you while you were sleeping, and also…”
At this point, Jima raised her hand with a pained expression, trembling as she pointed at George: “We are siblings, and you actually laid hands on your own sister.”
George couldn’t help but give Jima’s head two knocks.
“Thud! Thud!”
“Ah!” Jima covered her head and shouted, “Scumbag, how could you do that to your own sister—”
“Thud!”
The third knock interrupted Jima’s words.
“I was wrong.” Jima’s eyes turned red as she raised her tearful eyes, “Damn it, you actually figured it out.”
George felt both angry and amused, saying, “Now is not the time to be naughty.”
“What went wrong this time?” Jima muttered under her breath, standing up straight and dropping the act as she beckoned to the woman in front, “Let’s do it again.”
The woman that Jima had placed her own face on turned her head and then turned back again. Her face was shrouded in mist, her features vague and indistinct, making it impossible to see clearly, not even her hair color.
“What is going on?”
“Because in your memory, you don’t have your mother’s face.” Jima said, “That’s the effect.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Jima said, “If you don’t believe me, you can come to me during the day for a lie detector test. If I’m lying, you can have me for the night.”
“Okay.”
“Indeed, you have fallen; you’ve become lecherous.”
“If you hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have asked.” George said, “Since you emphasized it, it probably indicates a lie.”
“So that’s how it is.” Jima said, “You really are hopeless; at this age, having gone a month without… and you still haven’t had any thoughts about beautiful girls. That thing is useless; you might as well cut it off— it could extend your lifespan.”
George raised his hand.
Without hesitation, Jima distorted the dream, a gust of air propelling her backwards quickly. Spreading her wings, she flapped them powerfully, her speed suddenly increasing, and she shot up to three to four meters high like a sky monkey.
“Goodbye.” she said proudly, turning in the air, but failed to notice George’s figure.
“Where is he?”
Suddenly, her calves felt heavy as a massive force dragged her down. It was George, who had embraced Jima, looking into her eyes. His pair of deep blue eyes were unmasked, burning with passion.
Jima struggled slightly, but George held her tightly, making her swallow hard and say, “Let’s skip today; I don’t want to mess up the bedding, I would get them wet.”
Jima’s golden eyes sparkled as she bit her cherry lips nervously, staring at George with a mix of fear and innocence.
George said nothing, lowered his head, and kissed Jima. She quickly turned her head, exposing her fair neck, but her horns were firmly grasped, her head twisted back into position, and her cherry lips were pressed against his tightly.
A strong tongue slipped in, hot breath hitting her face as Jima trembled, goosebumps covering her back.
The two intertwining tongues melded together, making wet sounds. Jima tiptoed, her toes tightening. Her smooth tail wrapped around his calf again and again.
Uncertain how much time passed, their lips parted.
Jima’s face was flushed, her eyes moist, and a few strands of black hair clung to her cheeks.
George released her dark horns, as Jima’s heart began to race rapidly, thankfully, George had let her go.
Jima’s legs felt a bit weak; she leaned against the tree, her tail loosening from George’s calf as she said:
“Phew, I almost thought I was going to be taken again.”
After speaking, she placed her hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating powerfully, trying to discern how much of the heartbeat was due to physiological reasons and how much was not.
George extended his hand, saying, “I really like you, Jima; you are very cute.”
Jima awkwardly turned her face away, pushing George’s hand away, saying, “Alright, you’ve already proven you’re a normal developing man; although that thing is a bit crooked… let’s talk about serious matters.”
Saying that, she took a few steps away from George to avoid being tempted by the scent of blossoms. She touched her face, realizing she was quite hot, emphasizing, “Very serious, very serious matters.”
George asked straightforwardly, “What serious matter?”
“I heard that because of me, your future is bleak. Is that true?”
“I don’t feel that way.” George said, “Who said that?”
“Eve Frostleaf.” Jima said, “Let me rephrase it: hasn’t the church started to neglect you?”
“We’re just following regulations; I don’t think so.”
“In recent times, has the church provided any support for your strength recovery?”
“Only a supply interruption for some time, and my situation is quite complex; it’s more about my personal—”
“George.” Jima said, “Just answer with yes or no. You explain so much, but do you feel it deep down?”
After a moment of silence, George said, “Yes.”
“Has the church ever warned you, in severe tones, not to get too close to succubi?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the main force in this mission to reclaim the Demon Lord’s supernatural materials?”
“No.”
“Who is in charge?”
“Bishop Gregory.”
“For this mission, did the church give you any supernatural items?”
“A battle flag and a Radiant Armor.”
“I know the Radiant Armor is your private property, so just a battle flag?”
“And a hundred soldiers.”
“Just mere mortal soldiers; I can handle them easily.” Jima said, “After casualties, does the church replenish your troops?”
“Too far from the church; I can only train some volunteers.”
“Did the church assign you any other tasks during this period?”
“No.”
“A few months ago, you and your army were just hunting beasts in the wilderness, chasing a few dark elves? Basically just wandering around, right?”
“No, we also reported important intelligence to the church.”
“But the main force is Gregory’s troops.” Jima shook her head, “Eve Frostleaf wasn’t wrong; the church has already given up on you.”
“Time will prove everything.”
“You’re too stubborn; not only are you protecting me, but you even directly said you wanted to marry me.” Jima shook her head, “Let’s not even mention whether I agree or not; what will the church think? Even if you want to marry a wife with a tail, you should at least keep it buried in your heart, don’t say it out loud. Now look, I guess the Holy Sword will say goodbye to you forever.”
“To believe is to say it out loud.” George said, “Holding your head high and being upright.”
“Now is not the time to mention church rules… I almost forgot, you’re still a believer in the God of Dawn, the real deal.” Jima sighed, “No wonder you agreed to me so readily back then; you didn’t have to worry about me encountering the Demon Lord’s supernatural materials because the main force is Gregory’s troops.”
